“Fuck you. It's a sign of virility.”
“Yeah, that's exactly what it is,” Luke snorted, smirking at Derick before returning his attention back to the screen.
Hiding a snort (and not successfully), Derick grinned to himself. What happened to the little kid he'd taken trick-or-treating? Or the baby he'd drawn a moustache on with his marker set? Mom had gone ballistic, so much so that now, two decades later, he still remembered. Had she realized then the trouble that he and Luke would be together? Luke's brains combined with his own general lack of fear for consequences had driven their mother nuts and was probably the cause of their father's grizzled grey hair.
In those first days of the Exodus, when he thought he was alone, Derick hadn't wanted to sleep. Closing his eyes only brought memories of his lost family. When news came about Luke, Derick had needed privacy. It took bribing a maintenance tech and a twenty-foot crawl down a bulkhead access to find it but when he did, he'd broken down and cried in relief.
As they grew up, Luke never ceased to amaze him and now, at the new dawn of humanity, his brother's genius intellect, his delight when something he made worked, and his ability to find humour still floored Derick. He reached out and gripped Luke's shoulder softly in pride as he handed off the controls to Shiny.
Nodding her thanks, Shiny's brow creased as she went to work, her fingertip tracing the smooth surface of the slate control. The hovering craft immediately zipped forward, making a soundless beeline towards the Firefly where it started scanning the area in ever expanding circles. Tom and Derick stood behind Luke, watching his fingers fly over the smooth keyboard to enhance the bird's eye view of the camp being transmitted by the drone.
The image of the Firefly was displayed as a solid object on the screen, which was to be expected. Dented and damaged as the hull was, metal was a difficult substance to see through and the scanner had better luck when it headed out over the dense brush around the walls. Luke's fingers were a flurry of movement as the blurry images sharpened and provided them all with a reasonably clear view of the terrain from its vantage point above.
“Looks good,” Tom complimented over his shoulder. “Can you operate the controls without Shiny? I'm going to need her in the sweep.”
“Now that I got it all set up, no problem,” Luke was happy to help. This was something he could do and, while not directly involved in what Derick was about to embark on, he was grateful at being able to help.
“Oi!” Shiny jabbed Luke's shoulder with a finger. “You didn't do it all yourself.”
“Yeah.” Just to be a dick, Derick jabbed Luke's other shoulder.
“Okay, okay,” Luke gave an exaggerated sigh, “maybe she helped a little.”
Tom gave Shiny an approving nod, just to show he was aware she had done a little more than just 'helped a little'.
“Right then, I want an initial scan of the area, especially a TRS survey of the structure so I know what we're walking into.”
“No problem.”
“Derick, get the squad ready to move out in fifteen minutes. We'll set up operational command here. Once we get the drone's intel, you'll go in and conduct a full sweep of the place. Sure, as shit the squints will be itching to get in there once they're up and about.”
“Squints are already up,” Shiny spoke up, glancing back at them from where she was watching the drone. “They fixed the hopper's coffee maker. Captain, can we keep them?” Hardly any of them was the coffee addict she was. Withdrawals those first few days after the Exodus began had been a bitch.
“No,” Derick answered instead, motioning forward. “You heard the man. Equipment check in ten,” he said, moving towards the camp. “SHARKS!!!” he bellowed, not caring that Shiny winced beside him. “On the line in ten mikes!! Starting now!!”
The camp had been stirring sleepily, like some entity coming out of a deep slumber. At the Gunny's order, it was as if a switch was flipped and the camp came alive with the sound of Sharks getting their hustle on.
* * *
Jules jerked awake at the Gunny's bellow. For a second, she stared at the metal plating over her in confusion until awareness hit. Falling back against the chair, Jules glanced beside her, a little disappointed but unsurprised to find Tom gone. Of course, he would be awake, and he better not say shit to her because if she wanted to get up at the ass crack of dawn, she would have joined the Marines.
Rubbing her eyes, she sighed back into the chair. Seriously, whoever designed it should be given something. Chocolate for life. Someone, Tom she guessed, activated the window's refractive shield so that she wasn't awakened by brightness stabbing her in the face. She inhaled and let it out, thinking back to their long conversation last night. They'd talked for hours, nothing deep and meaningful at first, just surface stuff to fill in the time.
Eventually, as it did for any refugee, darkness invaded. Jules read his file before the mission and was aware of the act of heroism that was the cause of it. She also suspected the action had come hand in hand with a mild case of PTSD kept at bay with alcohol.
The shadow in his eyes at the mention of the incident told Jules to avoid the subject for now. Still, if she felt confident enough to speak she would have told him the choice he was forced to make was an impossible one and while he had a right to his anguish, his guilt was undeserved. No one should ever feel guilty for being merciful. Just like he would probably tell her that choosing to dock her shuttle and save the people on board over helping her best friend dying on the deck beside her wasn't something to feel guilty over either.
Morning chatter reached her ears, along with the sounds of industry. And was that… coffee she smelled?? Even if it was the instamatic freeze-dried crap they'd been forced to subsist on since the destruction of Earth, she'd take it.
She was up a minute later, combing her fingers through her tangled hair so she could put it up.
* * *
“No.”
“But Gunny…!”
“I said NO!”
Derick's reply was quiet but terse. After her years serving with him, Ren recognized when he was about to lose his temper but dammit, she didn't want to be left behind. Ren kept pace with him as he strode across the campsite proving irrevocably her injury of the day before was no longer an issue. Well, not much of one anyway. All she felt when she walked was a prickling across the skin where the wound had been. Her head was clear and with what Maya shot her up with, she felt fine if not a little euphoric.
“I'm fine!” she insisted, walking past Sharks who knew better than to get in between Ren and Gunny when they had one of their arguments. As much as the two worked like a well-oiled machine at times, Ren was infamous for her ability to challenge the Gunny the way no subordinate ought to be doing. Of course, when push came to shove, she was the first to have his back and he knew it. “Mayday cleared me for duty, you can ask her!”
Derick paused in his size thirteen combat boots and swung around, closing the distance between them with a menacing step. Not that he'd ever hurt her or any of his people, but he could be intimidating without realizing it. “I did talk to Mayday and she said you should be taking it easy but since you're determined to be a pain in my ass, she's cleared you for light duties. LIGHT!” He waggled a finger at her reproachfully.
“We're not going into a firefight! We're doing a sweep! I'll stick with Mayday and Jag. The minute I feel faint or get the vapours, I'll stand down! I swear!”
“Vapours…?” Derick stared in exasperation, uncertain whether to strangle her or dropkick her to the other side of the planet. In the end, it only cemented his admiration for her ballsy, no shit attitude, which was peachy if you wanted to date the woman but a complete pain in the ass when you wanted her to obey an order for her own damn good.
A gunny's word was law and her comrades would think her arguing with Derick like this to border on insubordination, but she didn't want to sit this one out. Not after spending months on the Ruthie, trapped in a sardine can, forced to maintain order against he
lpless civilians. Being out here, even after getting hurt, made her feel like she was a soldier again, not some jackbooted stormtrooper out of a dystopian novel.
“Please. I need to be out there.”
This time, there was no guile or snark on her face, just simple entreaty and holy hell, how the fuck could he say no NOW? Especially when he understood where she was coming from without needing to hear the words. Still, responsibility as her senior NCO had to override his affection for her. Sentiment should never bleed into any decisions in that area and yet, he wasn't un-sympathetic.
It should have been a straightforward no. No, ifs ands or buts… but Derick dragged a hand over his face, rubbing the stubble he hadn't wasted water to shave. Despite the messy, decidedly non-regulation feelings he had for Ren, or maybe because of them, he understood her need to be with her team at a time like this.
Exploring a new world, making an ancient ruined city safe for civilians — that was a mission worth the risk. After what they'd been through the last six months, it would be cathartic. He knew, because if the tables were turned, he would be the one demanding to accompany his squad. Ren and he were more alike than either of them knew what to do with.
Glaring at her, Derick cursed inwardly and rolled his eyes. “Mayday!” he bellowed, turning sharply on a heel to continue.
Maya, in the process of checking her gear again, was half-aware of the argument as it progressed through the camp. She didn't have to be there to know why her best friend was dogging Gunny Rickman's heels like a bloodhound. Tightening the fastenings of her body armour, she stood up just in time to hear the man's exasperated call.
“Yes, Gunny!” Maya jogged over to them, falling in step and bracing herself to be the tiebreaker for whatever impasse the two had reached.
The medic's close friendship with Ren might be considered a conflict of interests but one of the things Derick learned about the Brit since she came to his command was her honesty. Personal feelings wouldn't get in the way of the mission and she was impartial when it came to the health of any Shark. Maya had joined the squad from the British Infantry and though they only served together on the Ruthie, her record proved that in a crunch, she could be as dedicated as any doctor who feared for their patient.
“Wonder Woman here insists she's well enough to join the recon. What do you think?”
Ren held her tongue, aware her request was going against the grain of his natural inclinations. Gunnery Sergeant Derick Rickman had the loyalty of his squad for good reason. He fought for them like a son of a bitch, but he wouldn't take their crap either. No matter what the situation, even when the brass was running around like beheaded chickens, Gunny held his shit together and got them out alive. Even if she didn't care for him the way she did, Ren would have still taken a bullet for the man.
“I'll keep an eye on her Gunny. If I think she even looks the least bit off-colour, I'll dose her and send her off the field. Which you will do, yeah?” Maya gave Ren a pointed stare to show she meant it.
Ren crossed her heart. “Scout's honour.”
“You were never a scout,” Derick grumbled, shaking his head and exhaling his lingering reservations into the ether. “Alright, go put on your party dress! We leave in ten!”
* * *
Ten minutes and a trip to the still functioning head (THANK GOD!) later, Jules had a cup of coffee in hand as she sought out Tom. The rising sun was painting the cloud-dappled green sky a kaleidoscope of colours, making Jules pause at the foot of the ramp. Should she? Screw it. Digging her slate out, she raised it up to take a few pictures. Call her a geek but Jules didn't care. This planet was going to be their new home and someday, she liked to look back at what it had been before colonisation.
Slipping the device back into the pocket of her flight suit, Jules spotted Tom hovering behind Luke, who sat perched on an equipment crate. He was hunched over the controls of what she recognised as the guidance hub of their Mercator drone. As she headed over, Jules scanned the sky to see if she could spot it. Ah. There it was, making concentric circles as it conducted a scan of the abandoned structure. She couldn't help feeling the thrill of excitement rushing through her and it showed when she greeted the men enthusiastically.
“Good morning, gentlemen.”
Tom raised his eyes to her and though he didn't smile, she saw the twinkle of pleasure at her arrival. Luke's gaze was transfixed on the screen, focused on the telemetry provided by the drone. He glanced up briefly and offered a distracted greeting. 'Uh…good morning, Captain. You want a look at the telemetry we're getting from the Merc?”
“You bet.” Jules quickly joined them, standing next to Tom as she leaned forward, staring at the flurry of images on the screen.
“We've just started,” Tom added. “The first signals have just started coming in.”
“I had to tweak the frequency to compensate for atmospheric ionisation earlier but other than that, the TRS is transmitting some great data,” Luke leaned back further so the two of them could get an unobstructed view of the screen.
Jules's eyes widened in surprise at the radiographic representation of the forgotten city. As the UAV flew through the empty streets between the buildings, she could see plazas and courtyards as well as streets winding through the buildings. What looked like a road, led to the city's edge along a half-collapsed stone wall. At the entrance, an elongated piece of rock, that could have been a gatepost, lay sprawled against the ground like a lazy guard.
The valley was already reclaiming this abandoned civilisation, with tall grass fighting through cracks in the cobbled street like triumphant invaders, accompanied by their entourage of creepers. Bushes and shrubs flanked them, staking their own territory across the disused pathways where people might have once walked. Banners of vines and moss celebrated their victory, hanging down walls of the buildings as lichens bloomed across the rock, like bursts of artillery.
The buildings and towers were luminous images against a black backdrop, appearing ghostly as spectral outlines revealed rooms within rooms. There were chambers and stairwells ranging from wide and sweeping to corkscrew narrowness. Wide halls with high ceilings were surrounded by winding corridors, sometimes leading to small cellars below ground level. The floor plans resembled segments of completed puzzles, their mysteries laid bare for all to see.
A pulsing red dot at the corner of the screen caught her eye momentarily, telling Jules that the Merc was also recording its exploration. The TRS, capable of distinguishing the types of materials being scanned, exposed not only the internal framework of the terraced pyramid but also the objects contained within it. Furniture, trinkets and other objects made from stone and bone, were depicted in the same translucent shapes, with different colours denoting each new material. Detritus of civilisation, she thought.
“It's like they just up and left one day and never came back,” Jules said.
Were they like the Romans and Greeks? Cultured, with philosophers and physicians and artisans? Or would they find the beginnings of civilization, with artefacts of culture and invention, signs of intelligence and promise? Even though humanity had charted most of Sol, the one thing they never found was intelligent life. They were alone, but it never hurt as much until Earth was going to be destroyed and they realised there was no one to call for help.
Had something catastrophic happened here and, like Earth, they had no one to call for aide?
“Tom,” Jules said sombrely. “We've got to get in there. We need to know what happened to these people.”
XVII
Reconnaissance
After a full equipment check, including helmet cams, bio-trackers and ammunition, the Sharks were on a careful approach to the entrance of the city. Monolithic stones fit together like the pyramids were covered in wrist-thick creeper vines and vegetation. Giant plants sprouted at the base, some of which had stalks as big as Derick's biceps. The Sharks ignored those unless absolutely needed and took machetes and serrated shovels to the rest to clear the path.
Kneeling, he felt the pads on his fatigues hit something too hard to be dirt and looked down. Clearing away the greenery, Derick saw flat stones fit together as tightly as the walls.
“Looks like it was paved,” he announced, getting to his feet and dusting off his hands. “All right, Lorio, Anderson, clear this crawl space out and you're first through.” He ignored the glances the two greenhorns shot each other. “Richards, you've got our six.”
When his noobs didn't move forward, Derick nailed them both with a look. “You waiting' on a fuckin' escort, Shark?” he said, in a low voice that his people learned early on meant business.
“No, Gunny!!” they chimed as one and hurried past him as Derick shook his head. After a few minutes of grunting and cursing, both young men disappeared to the other side. Two seconds later, a strong and true 'Clear!!' was heard from the other side.
“All right, you heard 'em,” he told the rest. “In you go!”
As the Sharks started to crawl through, Ren turned her back on the group, eyes peeled on the surrounding terrain. While the valley wasn't the nearly impenetrable jungle the Major trekked through, the river was bound to attract all kinds of wildlife. After being attacked by a giant plant monster, everything was suspect, and she was searching for anything that twitched.
Shiny had taken position near the redhead as she did a quick links check. Glancing into the sun, she shielded her eyes and turned to face the heavy walls. “Rickman,” she hailed Luke, “You still read five by five?” she asked.
Savage World Page 18
