Servalan's request part 2
Chapter 2 is a little bit longer than chapter one but I hope it is alright.
Travis strode down the corridor back towards the troop carrier, his fierce long strided gait carrying him quickly. He wanted to be out of here as quickly as possible. Out of Servalan's grasp and back on duty. He spotted the small uniformed figure of Par standing guard on the docking bay, his blaster's hilt angled slightly wrong against his shoulder. He always did that, when he'd been waiting still for any
length of time.
"Trooper!" He ordered sharply and Par adjusted it quickly, eyes straight ahead.
"Sorry sir. Didn't mean to slip sir." The man's jaunty attitude was a constant, a perky hint of a smile on the cheeky soldier's face. At least it kept the squad' spirits up. That was something Travis could never have managed.
"Stand at ease trooper." he barked out and the perky veteran soldier complied with disciplined practice, dropping his weapon to his side.
"Sir."
"Trooper Par. Report." Travis tone was curt, his one-eyed stare harsh and steely blue. Haunted but not quite broken, the trooper thought with surprising insight, if you looked deep enough. The cheeky tone to his reply belayed his concern for his dour superior.
"We've been stationed on the north west side of the complex sir. Corridor B17. Good place too. I'll be glad of a good kip in a proper bed for once." Par could always see the positive side of something.
"I don't need a rundown of the accommodations Trooper." Travis snapped.
"Of course, sir." Was the Troopers disciplined reply, before he added "What do you need then?"
"A job to do." Travis answered sullenly, suddenly looking worn. Par knew how much he hated this place. After the retraining therapy, the man barely slept. He didn't know what they'd done to him exactly, but you knew it couldn't have been pretty.
"We'll be out of here soon sir, I'm sure of it." The black clad Space Commander's hand clenched instinctively, but he pushed his emotions back down savagely, viciously, just as ashamed of showing vulnerability in his apprehension, as he was hating being back here beside Servelan.
"I'll begin first watch, but your after me trooper, then Olsen. Got it?"
"Here sir?" For a moment Par looked confused by the nonregulation order. Most troops would be allowed some free time at the bar and such while barracked back at space command. He knew it wasn't really a fair draw for the squad, but he was never going to tell Travis that. Par could see he really thought it was necessary, and
they looked out for their own, even if that meant missing out on
what was theirs.
"Yes. Do you have any objections, Trooper?" Travis asked coolly.
"Of course not Sir. I just thought..." Par began but Travis cut him off.
"Well, you thought wrong. I'd rather lose a guard down on Zircaster than up here." the battle-scarred Space Commander spat out caustically, before adding in a more hauntedly bitter voice "Some things are worse than dying."
"Yes Sir." Par replied with badly hidden sympathy "Sir?"
"Par?" Travis' response was short and harsh as a blaster shot.
"Do you want me to take first watch Sir? You could get a bit of shut eye in first, you look a little pale sir if I might say so. Just tryin' ta' help Sir."
"No you may not, Trooper." He snapped harshly, before adding quietly "I 'll be alright."
"Yes Sir. Of course, Sir. I didn't mean..." Par blurted hurriedly, not wanting to have offended his grim disabled commanding officer.
"I know... I can manage. What rations have we been issued?" He demanded. It was an obvious evasion from the conversation they'd been having but food always seemed a good way to distract Par.
"Oh, just protein packs but it'll tide us over for a good long while I should think. They didn't stint on us this time, at least not while were close to command Sir. Pr'aps the only good thing about bein' 'ere sir."
"Perhaps." Travis seemed less than convinced "Let's get battened down Trooper. The sooner this place is done with the better. Along with bloody Servalan." And Travis stalked inside the Jackal with all the grace of a lithe tiger stalking its prey, Par following smartly behind, and ordered the squad to move itself.
That evening went quickly and efficiently, but the jagged edges of panic however harshly discarded to the edge of Travis' mind remained in the black clad man's steely blue eye like a brand, his posture even more emotionally guarded than usual. Most of the squad left him alone knowing all too well that given his present anxiety level and state of mind, any attempt to engage the grizzled commander in conversation would only result in getting their head bitten off, at best. Par however, as he so often was, was the exception. Par apparently sometimes didn't have any sense, because that is exactly what happened, but the short mischief making
Trooper at least felt better for trying. The night wore on, the squad eventually all billeted down, unsettled but not too badly by their commander's unyielding short temper, at least more so than usual at any rate.
Travis remained dourly on centry duty, his arms, bionic, and flesh and blood crossed over his chest like a yin and yang sigil as he stared out in cold distrust along the dark empty corridors, until precisely 4:30. He woke Par for his own stint on guard duty with a light shake to his shoulder and a gruff but hushed order, before trying to get some sleep himself. Par watched his scarred commanding officer unclasp the coat to his ridged black uniform, shrugging it off and pulling it away from his prosthetic limb. He turned to the side so Par wouldn't see him disatatch his arm, (Par knew he was ashamed of his injury but he didn't see why. He'd got it in the line of duty, and he knew the service was all Travis had), putting the beige prosthetic object safely under the cot on which he slept. He took out a bottle of white tablets, dream suppressants, flicking the lid open one handed and took two before stowing them away again safely and curling up under the rough army issue blanket on his cot and tried to get some
sleep, his face facing the wall.
Travis wouldn't get you killed unnecessarily, par thought, he wasn't like some o' the officers he'd served under, would get troops shot in a battle charge just cause it was what the red tape demanded, or it was easier for them to get a promotion if it happened to work out. Perhaps Travis' rough personality and paranoia were worth putting up with for that. That and the fact that Par respected him. He tried to pretend he wasn't worried about the man. He found he wasn't doing
a very good job of that ither.
It wasn't that long before the black clad soldier's mind drifted to battles long since fought, shattering laser cannons and blaster fire and the smell of burning flesh. A man's dead eyes as he stared out at them, unable to be moved as he was in the line of fire, white bone showing through the side of his war-ravaged face. Dev his name had been. The heat from his overused blaster burning his flesh hand but being the only thing keeping him from the crippling cold. The scene changed to Servalan, all in white, like an angel of destruction, clicks and flashes. Glimpses from his retraining sessions, the feeling of something being taken from him, his mind blanked too much and he was so alone. Servalan's voice, then there was pain in his mind and Servalan's image seemed to merge with that of Blake until he couldn't see anymore where one ended and the other began.
He woke up in a cold sweat screaming his lungs out with Par knelt over him shaking him worriedly by the shoulders, his scarred face like
bleached chalk.
"Sir! Don't lose it sir. It's Par. You're alright. You were dreaming sir." Travis curled in on himself involuntarily, but recognising Par's distinctive tone he tried to collect himself quickly.
"Clearly." He said quietly, bitterly, ghosts still flickering unnervingly in his dilated blue eye. Before harshly demanding, his voice cracking as he did so, sounding harsh and strangled, sweat beading down his pallid features ln rivulets. "Who saw me."
"All of us Sir." the conformation was exactly what he didn't want to hear, and he felt a crippling shame tear at him. Travis tensed sharply but said nothing. He was clearly mortified that they had seen him in such a vulnerable state. He hated letting his guard down, he didn't trust anyone, and he had to set a good example to the men.
"Don't worry sir. We all understand. None of us think less of you for it." "It was Servalan wasn't it?"
"Yes." his single word conformation wasn't exactly a surprise to either of them, and Par gave his commander a nod in understanding.
Par had Delta bring him over a blanket and some hot tea, but they didn't talk of anything but the new barracks and the dark.
Thank you for reading.