A Web Serial by M.C.A. Hogarth
| 82. Leading From Behind. | 84. Internal Pressure. |
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83. A Little Kink in the Plan
Late evening. Spots and Claws are heading for Sickbay.
Spots. "Why is it that we can never seem to get a full night's sleep these days?"
Claws. "You know what they say. No rest for the wicked."
Spots, making a face. "Speak for yourself."
Claws. "Which part, the rest part or the wicked part?"
Spots eyes him. They enter Sickbay and head for Peaches's bedside. Gunny's there, and Avril.
Claws. "Ma'am. Corporal Walker and Private Guitart reportin' as ordered. You don't look so good."
Peaches studies him.
Claws. "Uh... ma'am?"
Peaches looks at Spots, who says nothing. Then: "Do either of you know why the Violinist just refused to come here without you escorting him?"
Claws. "Uh... literally escortin'? Like walkin' him down the hall?"
Peaches. "Yes, Corporal."
Claws. "No clue, ma'am. Not bein' an alien and all, I couldn't guess."
Peaches sighs. "Well, get over there and walk the damn alien here so we can discuss your present."
"Yes, ma'am."
"And make it quick, please. The new painkillers are going to kick in real soon now."
"Yes, ma'am."
Once again, Spots and Claws are outside Sickbay. Spots looks at Claws. He starts walking.
She smiles. "You don't have to tell me."
Claws, tense. "What?"
Spots. "You know why he did it. I can tell."
Claws. "Look, Spots—"
She holds up a hand. "You don't have to say anything. It's pretty obvious. He's worried, so he's putting layers of formality between himself and the lieutenant to remind her that he's not human."
Claws stares at her. "How the..."
"Not stupid, remember?"
Claws. "There's 'not stupid' and there's 'psychic.'"
Spots. "What I want to know is what's made him nervous now. That part I don't know. And you don't either, I bet, or you would have told the lieutenant."
Claws. "Crap! Stop doin' that 'starin' inside my head' thing. It's creepin' me out."
Spots chuckles, says nothing more.
Sickbay. The door opens for Spots, Claws, Samuel-Colt and two guards. Their entrance causes a complete cessation of activity. As they pass they gather stares, stares that don't stop once they reach Peaches. The alien stands several heads above anyone else; his slim figure looks out-of-place among the medical equipment and the men and women resting on the beds. Fiddler technology never made it into Sickbay and it shows somehow.
Peaches. "Samuel-Colt, if we did anything to offend..."
Samuel-Colt, rising note. "There was no offense, Lieutenant-Savannah-Bonnet. How may we help you?"
Peaches, uncertain but not sure how to discuss it further. "I wanted to thank you for your work... and to ask. What kind of crab should we bring down? Which one will be most useful to you?"
Samuel-Colt. "That is a good question, Lieutenant-Savannah-Bonnet. We would have the easiest time with a King."
Peaches. "We can do that."
Avril. "Or we could, if there were any Kings to be found."
Everyone looks at him. He lifts his tablet. "I've been reviewing cam footage while waiting. The patrols are reporting no incursions. Nothing. Not even a single bug. The Warren's empty."
| 82. Leading From Behind. | 84. Internal Pressure. |
|---|
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