Authors Note: You. People. Rock. Thank you so –ing much for taking the time to review! It really makes me want to write; quickly and skillfully. I appreciate it enormously I'll say this...The 3 chapters were an experiment in subtlety, I tried out different writing styles (just barely different), and then I decided to write in my style. The style in which the 3rd and parts of the others are written in. Thanks for putting up with my experimentation. Also finished 'Battle Cry' yesterday, gave me some insight on how to effectively write battle scenes
Kurz was still getting accustomed to his change in arsenals and he only had 10 seconds. 'Damn that Melissa, first switching guns, then trying to unnerve me with that kiss. She must really want to talk to the Illustrious Kurz Weber.'
"Kurz, gimme your magazines and I'll throw over mine." Kurz grumbled about her throwing this contest, and tossed over his clips along with two Maxim magazines, and two GQ magazines. These articles luckily enough, did not land on Melissa's head.
"Wiseass, can't you get past the age of 15 sometimes?" Melissa snapped.
"Leave that to Sousuke!" Kurz crowed back.
"BEGIN!"
This particular shooting range was an oddity for the fact that it was designed for a submarine. Using the standard indoor trap system for shooters, the Tuatha De Daanan utilized an innovative way to capture bullets. All bullets were shot on the range were jacketed in Alnico (an alloy made by combining aluminum, nickel, and cobalt). Although not as durable as copper jacketed bullets it was necessary for the magnetic trap system. Bullets that were shot at paper targets, burst through the paper, compacted against the low intensity magnetic field, the rear range of the wall generated. When collection was necessary, the magnetic field was turned off, and the bullets collected in trays at the bottom of the wall. Scoring was determined by the color of the bullets, not unlike paintball, the bullets were coated with different colored powers that would rub off when the shooter scored a hit.
This was a popup target match, targets were moved to positions through a conveyor system, beneath the floor, and rose when they emitted a small magnetic pulse to attract the target to the wall, and then dropped it as compressed air caused it to quickly vanish from view. The overall visual impression was that of a rough ocean, with man shaped silhouettes rising and falling, like whitecaps.
He felt all action and no talk for this occasion. Most who had never seen the lecherous German in combat, assumed he was weak and incompetent. Watching him shoot changed that impression, from a harmless playboy, to a crack shot.
Kurz had the chorus of "Cum on Feel the Noize" roaring through his head as he began to enter the peaceful state of one who is completely at peace. He paid no attention to the red sirens that began to strobe on and off signaling the beginning of the contest. Nor did he bother to marvel at the polished steel of the cubicle he was shooting bullets out of. The rubber lined floors cushioned the flow of his magazines that clattered on the ground. Kurz had entered a state of divine concentration, one that was necessary to become a sniper. Mithril had etched its seal on the walls of his stall, this, while interesting did not phase him in the least. He only thought of three things, the targets, his ammunition, and his music, Melissa was distant 4th as the chorus echoed in the alleys of his mind.
So cum on feel the noize
Girls rock your boys
We get wild, wild, wild,
wild, wild, wild,
Cum on feel the noize
Girls rock your boys
We get wild, wild, wild
He felt the "noize" all right. The sharp crack as the mag-field generator on the targets was engaged, and the whuff of compressed air collapsed targets he had just hit. Two appeared right in the corners of his vision, a bedpost spilt. He shifted to a one-handed stance, and popped off three rounds at the leftmost one, missing by a wide margin.
"Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?" He muttered to himself, He had the gun pointed directly at the target for chrissake, his shots has gone wide left.
'She wouldn't have. Could Melissa set the sights wrong on purpose? She wasn't that cheap was she?'
As larger weapon swung into line with the stark white targets it spat bullets. They reminded him strongly of foam you blew off a good ale. Except Kurz wasn't going to drink that ale. Melissa must have familiarized herself with his old SIG P210. She was mowing down targets with it. It was a relatively old weapon, but he liked it, similar to the Colt 1911A model in staying power for the markets.
After his spray across the cropping of targets, he realized that the ballistics of the gun created a slight left slice, which in turn caused the bullets to go astray. He'd have to shoot just to left of everything now. Although Melissa hadn't counted on one thing, she knew the OA-98 could handle 30 round magazines, but she hadn't remembered Kurz's speed-loading. With the .223 ammunition it carried, it knocked down targets as fast as they came up. There was little to none delay time in his reloads, because it loaded just like an SMG, just unlock, swipe, position, and relock. He was into his groove now, targets popped up! He nailed 'em! He was out of ammo! He switched in a new magazine, and so the process continued. With a symphony of 'perchaks' 'ratatats', 'chk-chks', and 'pings' as he shot.
Unfortunately for Kurz, Melissa had found her shot early. She had a lead on him that he was unlikely to beat in the 3 minutes remaining in his challenge. So he concentrated on just whittling it down while running disruption tactics. When targets appeared in the rightmost corner of his vision, he concentrated all his fire there, thus taking Mao's points, because technically they were her targets to shoot at. These tactics earned him a round of cursing from the next booth over. Kurz was taking her points and adding to his own! Then abruptly the target disruption stopped. Kurz had decided to focus on his targets and leave Melissa's alone, for the time being, to get her comfortable with her shooting, and then make a few pinpoint shots to throw her off.
A song from Twisted Sister, wormed its way into his head. He had considered acting upon this song many a time, because of the humiliation he had received from Sergeant Major Mao, but he had refrained from doing so. Now the lyrics especially rang true.
Oh you're so condescending,
Your gall is never ending,
We don't want nothing- not a thing from you
Your life is trite and jaded- boring and confiscated.
If that's your best- your best won't do
We're not gonna take it- no we ain't gonna take it!
We're not gonna take it anymore.
He absolutely refused to take it, unless he deserved it. Problem is; he often deserved it. It made for an interesting conundrum, he hated the crap he got from Melissa and any other females that his amorous advances failed to work upon, but he was not smoothest operator around. It was probably because of his father's job in Kobe. But he would have to explain that later.
"1 MINUTE LEFT!" the loudspeaker crackled.
Kurz just concentrated on his targets, and tried to even the score as best he could. At least he could lose by a narrow margin to his superior. He would not lose this by a wide margin that was for sure.
"MATCH OVER!"
All targets that were used in this particular match were raised for visual inspection before the computer tally. There were a fair amount of yellow and green coatings, from the two other shooters participating, but the blues and reds outnumbered them by at least 3 to 1. He looked at number of hits he had scored, yes; the blues were everywhere, even in targets that were solely for red. Melissa had practically coated a few targets red; so many hits had been made.
The results showed up on a flat-screen TV above each shooter. He and Melissa were only separated by 19 hits on the targets; however he had outscored Melissa by 50 because of "skill shots" bonuses for especially difficult targets. Melissa's targets specifically.
"Congratulations Kurz" Melissa said, trying to set up a trap so that he'd be still stuck in his agreement.
"Thanks Melissa, the OA-98 seemed a bit off center—"
"A little eh? It hasn't been used for awhile, and I really didn't have to time to set it" Melissa's glare warned of repercussions of challenging this statement. Kurz had no desire to argue, her intentions had been propelling him towards what he wanted.
"Oh and Kurz, We never set terms for what was considered 'winning'" Melissa had a sweet smile on her face, sweet to a viper that is.
"About that—"
"So I decided that we should base it on shot count. Making me the winner, and you the loser, however, since you won actual points-wise, I'll buy the beer, and any outstanding debts you owe me, are canceled. Damn good shooting Kurz, you proved once again you're invaluable, to Mithril, my squad, and—"
"The world Melissa, I know, I know, keeping the peace and all that jazz." Kurz remarked offhandedly.
"me..." She finished in a whisper.
"What's that Melissa?" Kurz was not suspicious, merely curious.
"The world, you serve as an excellent model of the devoted boyfriend." He stood a little straighter, "because no woman would willingly make you unfaithful! She remarked acidly, trying to make Kurz forget her omission, for there was more than a grain of truth to the former. She had skimmed the rest of his records file while he was unconscious and saw he was sending a great deal of his pay to the hospital fees of a woman not of his family. Obviously his girlfriend, it made sense now. This shattered the image of playboy in her eyes, because it firmly convinced her, that Kurz was not in least bit shallow, rather, had odd personality quirks.
Kurz had become an integral part of her squad, and daresay her life. His levity made dealing with events much easier than she let on. He also was very effective pressure cooker for stress, It was strange, he might he be perverted for that reason?
'Whoa Melissa...Check your boot size there. You're getting a big head'
The rather odd pair exited the range, and made their way through the corridors of TDD-1 till they had reached the aft of the ship, where the bar was located. Near personnel quarters because of convenience and it was easier to drag drunken crew members 200 feet, rather than 2000.
"Ten shun!" Kurz bellowed, and then came to attention, Melissa followed but in a much smoother fashion than Kurz's jerky snap.
Lieutenant Commander Kalinin walked down the corridor, looking rather haggard, even for the former Spetsnaz soldier.
"At ease Sergeant, Sergeant Major." The tall Russian remarked wearily.
"Let me guess, Lieutenant Commander, either you just got off the link from talking to Sousuke or—"Kurz was interrupted.
"You were talking to the Finance Division, about Sousuke." Melissa finished.
"Hmm...You two sure acting odd, normally the Sergeant would be in trouble for some offence or another, and the Sergeant Major would be administering street justice. This is not the case eh? You all must have gotten drunk. Such quick reflexes for those who are intoxicated hm?" He had a slight smirk on his face.
"Not Yet, Lieutenant Commander, Not yet..." Kurz remarked with glee, this earned him a kick in the shins, from Melissa.
"The sergeant and I were just going to do some friendly drinking. We would not perform unprofessionally whilst on this ship" Melissa was doing some brownnosing to get Kalinin away from his earlier observations.
"Depends on the profession Melissa, I know—OOOHF!" Kurz had binder slammed into his stomach, by Kalinin, as to prevent yet another incident.
"Leave information is in that binder. I trust you will look before you decide to go on leave, Sergeant."
"Anyway I must be leaving, I must talk to Sousuke. He's been having medical problems, lately, and is unsure about what to do. I promised I'd talk to him about it, in more private circumstances."
"What are they Lieutenant Commander, we are his squad-mates and we would like to know." Kurz asked, with a slight snigger.
"Very Well...Sousuke has been having circulation problems, especially in the face, and is experiencing swelling other areas. He has noted a decrease in situational awareness, as he becomes focused only on one thing. Involuntary Spasms, usually with his arms, exceptional emotional perception, which he knows is unlike him. He has also noticed that he is 'zoning off' and losing his edge whenever his thoughts drift about a certain someone. Sweating in the palms and face when dealing with certain persons. He said that this is remarkably like the symptoms of Malaria or Dengue Fever. However he has noticed that all of these behaviors occur around, or in regards to Kaname Chidori."
Kurz and Melissa gave each other a knowing look. They knew if they informed Kalinin, he would not kick it up to the higher Mithril brass, because he respected Sousuke and his feelings more than that.
"Lieutenant Commander, If I may diagnose the situation given my extensive experience in this area" Melissa snorted at that remark. Kurz harrumphed, and continued. "As a qualified professional, I can tell you only one thing that is ailing him. Sergeant Sagara is head over heels in love with Kaname Chidori. The blockhead just doesn't know it, or how to express it."
"I had assumed as much. If had been any other officer, you would have been foolish to tell me this. But, I put Sousuke on the job because he needed the experience, and he was the most qualified to do so. He's our insurance, and his protectiveness will only increase once he realizes his feelings and their depth. It will be nice to have Sergeant Sagara become more of a normal human being for once. To know something other than death and soldiering, I am glad for the boy. He will have his hands full in the future. This way, he won't let his pay pile up, and will spend it on a certain someone. No longer will there be a person on duty, all of the time. He's got somewhere to go, at long last." Kalinin thought of his family, and how their deaths had made him a complete soldier. 'Except that Sousuke is going in reverse, he has not experienced the beauty of family, or romantic love. He certainly will now, and will be better for it'.
Kurz would say his piece about the fight in China later. Not when high- pockets was here. There are some things that just cannot be said in front of superior officers. Sousuke being insubordinate because of his feelings was one of those.
"Dismissed." Kalinin gave a curt salute, and marched off.
"On to the bar! May the taps be flowing, the glasses full, and the kegs stocked because Weber and Mao are hitting the bar today!" Kurz exclaimed.
"Agreed? Drinking Contest? Winner gets one favor, no matter the circumstances, or reason. Deal?"
"Jas! I mean uh...yeah." Kurz was getting ahead of himself. Visions of Melissa doing-
"Hello? Earth to Sergeant Deviant? Kurz! Snap out your adolescent fantasies!" The final barb did the trick.
"Right, we should go to the bar!" Kurz said a little too enthusiastically. Melissa let him slide on his previous comments. She did owe him drinks after all.
Kurz offered the crook of his arm, smiling mischievously.
"The least I can do is be a gentleman to such a gracious lady? Would you oblige my excuse for hospitality?" Kurz was in lady-killer mode.
For once, Melissa relented. She slipped her left arm through his. "Granted, my dashing companion, Provided the first round of drinks is on you." She touched her finger to his lips to forestall a reply, and to seal her victory.
Kurz went beet red in the face, and they sauntered off towards the bar, looking very odd. Each was alone with their thoughts, and ready for the incoming alcohol.
At last the most frequented part of the TDD-1, the bar, not part of original design, since Tessa did not drink alcohol, she had designed it as an officers lounge. That had changed quickly, when Kalinin and even Mardukas petitioned to make it a bar, for the crew. Morale and all that was the given reason, however a bar had its drawbacks, notably the need for Military Police on the TDD-1. The De Daanan military police became infamous, and it was often hard to find cooperative soldiers that would help in any manner.
"Melissa? Could I have my SIG P210 back now?" Kurz asked.
A little embarrassed that she had been holding onto the piece for so long, they swapped weapons and they were put into their respective holsters.
Today was off day for the bar. There were no missions, so it was not jam- packed but was fairly full. Melissa untangled her arm before she and Kurz strode in.
Cigarette smoke and the smell of beer permeated the air. Several tables had poker games, or craps going on. The triumphant whooping of those who have won, the slamming down of chips, the shuffling of cards, and the music blaring, created an atmosphere that both the German and American felt comfortable in.
They both grabbed a seat, literally. Although the stool legs were bolted on to the floor, the surface was not. The indignant occupants stumbled to the floor, and arose to a SIG P210 and OA-98 pushed into their windpipes. They quickly vacated the area, without any fuss.
"Well that was an interesting way of getting seats Sis..." Kurz was uneasy, with methods like this she might actually care and cross-reference what he said, to check the validity. 'This isn't a friendly conversation, this is an interrogation. I think I'll be leaving now'
"Kurz, First round is on you, remember?" Melissa reminded him.
"Oh...Right. Hey barkeep!" A rather large man moseyed over.
"Ah Kurz, Melissa! My two best customers! What can I do you for?" The barkeep had a rather soft spot for the pair.
"Hm...I'll have a Gouden Carolus for myself, and a Karmeliet for the beautiful lady. I got the first round; the rest of it is on her." Kurz was grimacing when he had mentioned 'beautiful lady' for some kind of punch. Instead he received a hearty slap on the back.
"Those sound good Kurz, But Oktoberfest will be better!"
They began to drink; both beers came in 12 ounce longnecks. They were both chugging their beers. Kurz was aware that Melissa could drink him under the table, which is why he had given himself a slight edge. His beer had 7.5% and hers 8%. It would stack up in the alcohol content.
"One!" They both slammed their longnecks down.
"Another round Wurther!" Kurz was enjoying this. They began the same process again, only slower.
"Two!"
"Another Round!"
"Three!"
When Kurtz was chugging his 4th beer and Melissa was nursing hers, a rather large man came and sat down.
"Chimay Blue, I'm not soft like those 'hard drinkers' beside me."
"Who the fuck are you calling soft Damek?" Melissa's voice had an almost shrill tone to it.
"You pukes, Mao. You've got the sorriest squad in all of the A.S corps. Pretty boy here, who can't fight up close to save his life, and is a dumbass pervert. 'I'm scared for life' Sagara, who overestimates his skills, and has absolutely no humanity, and yourself. You can't completely balance 'em out Melissa. Why don't you join my squad? It has other benefits that might suit such a lovely lady. It doesn't really help that you're in cahoots with our dumbass captain, who acts like a teenage girl, rather than a capable leader."
"Look Mr." Kurz looked at his tag "Hagos, first you come and insult us when we're having a little drinking contest, and then you insult the men under her command, and imply that she is worse than you at AS combat, I'd say you're asking for it." Kurz began to clench and unclench his fists.
"You and Red-eye Mao are having a Drinking Contest? I know for a fact that a shrimp like you couldn't hold his booze." Hagos laughed mockingly.
"So Babe, Whaddya say?" Melissa was actually watching to see how Kurz would react, and if he didn't a fight soon, she would. "No."
"What?" Damek was incredulous. Nobody had ever refused him. He shook his head, and his braids swung back and forth.
"You're not trying to hurt poor shrimp's feelings, Understandable. He must have paid you to accompany him around, seeing as he has no other option."
Melissa had her OA-98 on the underside of the table. That was too far. He had insulted her, Kurz, Sousuke, and Tessa. Kurz had better make a move, or she would castrate the punk.
Kurz did, He launched himself from his stool, and swung a hard uppercut to Damek's jaw. The big man was not expecting this, and was knocked off his stool. Kurz grabbed Damek's bottle of Chimay Blue, and brought it down over Damek's head. Melissa broke her bottle, ready to back up Kurz if need be.
Damek didn't say Kurz was bad at close combat for nothing. He rolled out from Kurz's straddle, and kicked the German in the jaw. As Kurz stumbled back, the Czech grabbed a bottle and chucked it at Kurz's head. Kurz had tripped over Mao's legs, and the bottle flew across the room and hit a rather large Irish PFC.
"Ye be wanting a donnybrook eh Hagos? I never thought this day would come." His bottle of Guinness draft was sailing across the room, and it smacked the Indian communications officer, who was drinking his Kingfisher, and it subsequently splattered all over his face.
"You bloody bastards! Kingfisher beer is expensive!"
He grabbed a Sam Adams from an American, and chucked it, and was knocked to the ground by the irate yankee. All semblance of order was destroyed in that moment. Hell broke loose, and everyone was fighting. The barkeeper simply sighed and cleaned bottles. The MPs would be here soon enough.
Kurz dodged a lunge made by a drunken Texan, and tripped him. Kurz conked him with an empty bottle for new measure. Mao was simply drinking and enjoying the spectacle. Whenever someone would want to fight, she'd show them her gun. They'd find easier targets in here than her.
Damek knocked over a poker game table, and found a chair he could use against Kurz. He charged Kurz, and swung the chair in a downward arc. It broke apart on the unfortunate Sergeant's head, and Kurz blacked out momentarily.
Damek was about to beat Kurz to a pulp, when a snap kick from Melissa knocked him out cold.
"Five O! Everybody scramble Five O!" The American who had the Sam Adams had been keeping watch.
The Military Police grimly strode in to the bar, and were promptly knocked down by the stampede of enlisted men and women.
The remaining few blocked off corridors and exits from the central area where the crew quarters led to the bar.
Melissa was dragging Kurz away when an MP stopped her.
"Ma'am I'm afraid you and the Sergeant are going to have spend the night in the Brig" He had a scared look on his face.
"BRIG? BRIG? I was the one who dragged him outta this fight, and I'll discipline him. I'm his NCO Damnit! I'll handle it. You folks are around for occasions when superior officers are unaware of these happenings. Now lemme into my quarters!"
The MP complied, and Melissa and Kurz collapsed onto the floor.
"Hey Kurz?" Melissa had a smirk on her face.
"Uwha?" Kurz looked groggy and his eyes were glassy.
"Good Job. You stood up for me, Sousuke, Tessa, and most importantly, yourself. But I ain't letting you off easy. We never finished our drinking contest..."