Creed stood next to a trooper, still at the firing range. "Ivan, I still don't see a lasmark on that dummy; we went over this before, do you know what that means?"
"Latrine duty?" The poor trooper guessed glumly.
"No!" Creed shouted, "It means that you are now DEAD! If that were a real enemy he would have gutted you alive with a return volley by now. When both sides have the potential of killing in one shot, it is imperative that we get the first volley. However, if that first volley doesn't hit…"Creed raised his voice, "Then it is of NO FRAKING USE TO US, just like you are of no use to us now! Keep firing until you hit him" Creed finished, disgusted.
He shook his head and looked over to Seymor who had already returned from dinner. The trooper was standing in the middle of the shooting range practicing his aim. Creed watched intensely. In a blur of second, Seymor charged and fired his lasgun, the ubiquitous beam of red light vanished from Creed's eyes to show him the combat dummy…without a helmet…or a head.
Creed was astonished. So those last shots this morning really weren't just luck. This boy actually has some real talent!
"Come with me" Creed said. Seymor, eager to please his superior, followed him through the maze of crates and boxes to another practice area. It was here that the specialists of the platoon were learning. Mostly that meant just 1st squad veterans teaching everyone everything.
Voor saluted to Creed as he passed, probably because he was doing something shady, not out of respect. Lechor and Hessert were lugging heavy weapons out of a crate with Virgil overseeing the process, data-slate in hand. The other guardsmen were milling around until they could practice with the heavy weapons.
Creed took Seymor around a particularly tall set of crates. Arranged in a line was the armory that they had compiled. Seymor stared in awe at the sheer number and variety of weapons. They transverse the aisles until Creed found what he was looking for. He grabbed the gun off its holster and checked to make sure they had enough ammo for it. They did. Creed told Virgil to mark off the weapon as they left.
"Excuse me sir, what sort of weapon is that?" Seymor asked Creed, as Creed moved a target much further back.
"It's a long-las, mainly used by marksmen. It has much more of a kick but fires an entire charge in a handful of shots meaning that it can pierce even the toughest infantry armor. You've shown promise and I want to see what you can do. If fires the same way as a regular lasgun, but you'll want too kneel at first because of the recoil…right, like that. See if you can hit that target I put up. "
Seymor stared at the target, which seemed miles away. He shrugged and balanced the lasgun. The long –las fired with a subdued crack because the silencer was not on. The shot went wide and scored the metal crated they were using as a backboard. Seymor looked disappointed.
"try again" Urged Creed, "balance it more and hold it up to your shoulder, good"
Again the las barked its shot. Seymor scowled even though he was sure he'd hit it the second time.
"Wait, put it down for a second, I think that you might have nicked it that time." The two walked over to see the damage. The target dummy still stood; Seymor started to scowl even more. Creed stared at the dummy; something was off about it. Then he realized, it was missing an arm.
"Congratulations! I think I might need to move you from your current squad "Creed said eyebrows raised. "That's all I need to see. Consider the long-las yours; learn to work it and talk to virgil when you need more ammo. You are dismissed trooper. "
Creed allowed himself a smile. If that boy doesn't get himself killed, he'll make specialist in no time.
Saide saw creed dismissing a trooper at the firing range and signaled to him. Creed came over with something Saide hadn't seen in a long time; a smile. Emperor knows if we had more of those, we'd be in a better situation. Hell, on Creed no less; someone must have saluted him without being asked…
"Why are you so happy" Saide asked as he drew near.
"Come look at this!" he gestured at what was left of the firing dummy.
"Impressive, looks like a long-las mark."
"Yes, from all the way over there" he pointed to the firing line.
"That is impressive; I always knew you were a good shot, but it looks like you're specialist material!"
"Hah! That shot wasn't fired by me Saide. Seymor fired that"
"Seymor?" Saide asked. Apparently I don't know all the troopers who made it. That's what comes of having such separate platoons; no one knows each other.
"Yeah, a boy about this tall, brown hair."
"You mean the medic?"
"No, that's Menon. They look the same; might actually be related. They were both part of that handful of survivors from 4th platoon. Him and Menon decided not to stay. "
"Good thing too. If he wasn't so young, I bet he would have been promoted by now. " Creed continued.
"Well, don't jump the gun; keep an eye on him and see how he does. If you want to, I've got some guys up in 1st squad who could train him. Keep them out of my hair for a while also.
"That sounds good. Are you going to get some food?" Creed asked.
"Yeah, Caff said he'd meet me. Plus we haven't gotten all the officers together in a while." Saide pointed out.
"Hrm, speaking of procedure; when I got the long-las out for Seymor, I could not help but to notice our armory. I found sheer number of items rather impressive." Creed commented, looking at Saide for a reaction.
"Indeed. Virgil's having to recruit the chefs into helping him unload the stuff. Apparently both 2nd and 3rd platoon chefs both made it and came with us"
"Ah, interesting" Creed frowned, "but as I was saying…how well armed are we exactly? Can we afford to be using so many shots training?"
"Creed" Saide slapped an arm around the sergeant. Creed jolted. "We have enough weapons to arm two companies!"
"Where did it all come from?" Creed asked.
"Well, I've speculated…I'll tell you later. Greynor and his guys are a little too interested in the stuff and where its whereabouts if you ask me. I'll tell you more at dinner."
"Of course" Creed replied and followed the captain down the hallway.
The two were now in the hallways that lead to the cockpit. A line snaked its way down the corridor, presumably for food. Fortunately it moved fast, and the two found themselves in the large room, that, only a couple of days before, they had used as a conference room.
Because the ship was never designed to accommodate eighty plus people, there was not where near enough room for all the men inside the room. Voor and the rest of 1st squad were fighting off the rest of the squads for possession of the few tables and chairs.
They looked up sheepishly when Saide and Creed entered. "I assume you want these tables, sirs. I apologize for the inconvenience." Voor bowed graciously before slipping out of the room. He's up to something again…Does the man ever stop?
Creed and Saide sat down and found that the rest of the command had joined them, excepting Kane and Elban, both of whom were absent again.
But they were not the only people who were missing from the assembly.
"I assume Stevan and Arnon are still in the engine room?" Saide asked.
"Affirmative; I think they've been working since we got here. You've got to give it to them; they know how to work." Virgil commented.
"Looks like Don's not here either. I haven't even seen him since the escape." Virgil noticed.
"Forget the escape, I've never met the man!" Voor said.
"Thone! Where did you come from? Didn't you just leave?" Saide asked, confused.
"Sure, but then I remembered how great the chow was that the 2nd squad chef made. I mean, how could you resist this stuff?"
"Wait a second, Voor, what the frak do you think you're doing?"
"Eating?" Voor responded without changing expression.
"NO! Just because you somehow convinced Elban to give up his room doesn't make you an officer." Saide said.
"Hey, I've got more experience than ninety percent of these soldiers, Elban included. Heck, Vrigil isn't an infantry officer, he shouldn't even be here! No offense Virgil."
Virgil glared at Voor. Creed intervened.
"Voor, this is why we have not given you command despite your experience. Plus, Virgil outranks you now. He is our quartermaster. "
"Wait, that was an official promotion?" Voor sputtered.
"Yes, now clear out soldier!"Creed growled. Voor grabbed his plate and stalked out.
"Now that that's taken care of, how goes the training?" caff asked. Some reported positively, however Creed complained about his men.
"If it wasn't for Seymor, I would have despaired. They are all classic PD, not a single one actually ready for battle."
"I would say the same" echoed Zell "Except for Menon. He received some real medical training at some point. Kid knows almost as much as I do."
"Not likely" Caff scoffed.
"At medical things. No one knows more than me when it comes to good general knowledge."
"Like fencing and ship procedure?" Saide pointed out.
"Exactly" Responded Zell, "Can't get far in life without knowing how to disarm your opponent's sword in at least thirty seven different ways"
"ha ha, but back to business. As you know, Greynor and I got the trading job we were talking about. The only problem is that to distribute goods we need a license. I'd try to forgo one, but apparently, according to Zell here, most of our routes will takes us to space platforms, and those are fiercely guarded by the imperium and by other merchants. Only legal thieves are allowed" Saide explained.
They spent the next hour conversing about the details of their plans while their food got cold. After they had finalized everything Saide gave them one last warning.
"Remember, the reason we're keeping battle ready is that ships like ours get boarded all the time, especially where we are going. Get everyone ready by the time we have our engines back. Dismissed." They dispersed.