Chapter 10

Brandt, dying of boredom from the standard trip from Mars to Earth, made his way to his private bay. Walking down the corridor to his bay, various men would salute as he passed, stopping whatever they were doing. Brandt returned the salutes, continuing on his way. The airlock doors whooshed open after he swiped his clearance card on the control panel next to the door. He walked through, the doors closing behind him in the same manner. The bay lights activated, coming on row after row after row, until they illuminated the entire bay, and his suit. It seemed to glow against the dark background, the light reflecting off of the wings seemed almost holy in a sense.
"Well," commented Brandt, looking at the suit, "looks good as new, not a scratch on it."
He ran his fingers across the cold, smooth armor, and opened the cockpit. Brandt stepped in, looking for some kind of idea on who actually built this suit.

Rush finished his meal, leaning back in his seat, looking up at the evening sky.
"That was good," commented Rachel, finishing hers, taking care of the garbage.
"Why thank you," replied Rush, looking over at her, "glad somebody likes sushi."
She returned from the disposal bin by the tent and sat down, taking out a small metal box.
"You studied any martial arts?" she questioned, putting the box on the table, "you look like you do."
"Black belt in Karate, nothing major," he replied with a funny look, "You? And why are you asking?"
"I am a master in Tae Kwan Do, Jiujutsu, and Mai Tai," she informed, confidently, "I didn't have much of a life."
"Wow," he said, surprised, "but that still doesn't answer my question."
She pulled out 2 pairs of sparring gloves and feet guards.
"Because I need someone to spar with me," said Rachel, "I usually practice or spar with someone everyday, and you are the only one here."
"Not right now," Rush groaned, "I just got done eating."
"So did I," she said with assurance in her voice, "it isn't bothering me."
Rush thought it over, not wanting to get sick, but not wanting to appear a coward to her. He picked up his protective gear off of the table and begun putting it on.
"Ok," he agreed, "only a few, don't want to wear myself out, and besides, I still owe you one, remember?"
She looked up at him after strapping on the feet guards.
"You can try," she challenged, standing up and stretching.
Rush did the same, stretching to prevent pulling muscles.
"What style do you want me to use?" questioned Rachel, completing her stretching.
"I don't care," replied Rush, waiting for her to finish.
She began using the Mai Tai starting stance, an Asian form of kickboxing that is devastating if performed correctly.
"Mai Tai, I see," observed Rush, taking up his defensive stance.
"Ready whenever you are," Informed Rachel, as she began circling him.
He did the same, circling. After completing at least one circle, Rush was the first to attack. He lunged at her with a closed fist strike, directed to the chest. She countered by grabbing his fist, throwing him forward, and striking him in the upper back with a roundhouse kick. Rush staggered forward, dazed by the blow.
"Again," he commented, "not bad, for a girl."
"Don't underestimate me, Rush," she warned, waiting for him to get into position again.
He did so, bowing to show he was ready. He attacked again, with a softer strike, meant to distract. Rachel blocked it, countering with a light jab, only to be blocked by Rush's other hand. Rush saw his window of opportunity, and struck her in the abdomen with his first attack hand, sending Rachel to the ground.
"Not bad, not bad," she said, picking herself up, appearing unphased at all by the blow, "but if that is the best you can do, you are in trouble."
"We will see about that won't we?" he replied, allowing her to get up.
Rachel struck first, using a combination of jabs, keeping Rush at bay. She surprised him with a low sweeping kick that knocked him off balance, and she slammed him to the ground with a backhanded strike to the face. Rush hit the ground, dazed, tasting blood in his mouth. Rachel saw the blood, fearing that she severely hurt him.
"Maybe we should stop," said Rachel, looking at Rush.
"I'm good," he said, standing up, spitting blood out of his mouth, "that is twice you have made me bleed."
"You deserved it the first time," she replied waiting for him to start again.
"I know," said Rush, still spitting blood, "but was it necessary the second time?"
"Sorry," she said, "You still want to spar?"
He took up his beginning stance again.
"I will take that as a yes." she stated, taking up hers.

Admiral Bently came on screen, seeing the deck of the cruiser in disarray.
"Good lord," he commented, "What on Earth happened here?"
Fielding came onto the bridge, bandage still above his eye.
"Just a little skirmish, Sir," he said, saluting the Admiral.
"Not from what I am reading on these reports, Fielding," replied Bently
"We would be dead if the ships I requested hadn't shown up when they did," informed Fielding, taking a seat in his chair on the bridge.
"Glad to hear," replied Bently, "Anyways, onto business matters. Commander Brandt is supposed to be meeting with you by the end of the week.
"THE Commander Brandt?" questioned Fielding, remembering stories of Brandt's fighter days.
"The one and only," replied Bently, "he is pleased with your performance here at Side 3 and would like to meet you face to face."
"I would be honored," stated Fielding, fixing his cufflink on his uniform.
"After that," informed Bently, "your cruiser is to pull patrol duty on Solomon, along with your promotion to Commander Junior Grade."
Fielding was astonished, not many cruiser captains make it past that, captain, and Solomon patrol to boot. It would be a vacation compared to what he is doing now, with a raise in his salary to boot.
"Thank you, Sir" said Fielding, standing and saluting to Bently as the screen turned off. He turned to the various people aboard the bridge.
"You hear that, crewmen?" he questioned, "We are pulling Solomon duty."
His crew cheered, happy to baby-sit the ass end of nowhere for 6 months at least. No USC fleet has the firepower, nor the strategy to attack Solomon, so the airspace is clear, besides random areas of debris from past conflicts.
Priss walked over to Fielding, saluted, and handed him a report.
"List of all repairs needed to make this ship 100 combat effective, Sir."
Fielding flipped through, seeing various damages, some major, others minor.
"All critically damaged areas are to be repaired first in descending order of priority," commanded Fielding, putting his know-how to work, being a cruiser captain for a decade at least.
"Yes, Sir," obeyed Priss, walking to the command panel of the cruiser and sent the message to the engineers from the other cruiser that were helping in the effort.

After many attacks and blocks, Rush finally threw Rachel off balance, and delivered a powerful blow to the sternum, sending her end over end. She rolled to a stop, face up, stunned by the fearsome attack. He ran over to her, seeing if she was ok.
"Are you alright?" he questioned, seeing her holding the area he delivered the blow to.
"Yeah," she coughed, "could you help up?"
He lowered his hand, allowing her to grab a hold of it, and she flipped him over her, throwing him into the ground. Rachel stood up, looking at Rush.
"Never let your guard down," she said, playfully.
"I really thought you were hurt though," he said, standing up, wiping dirt off of his back and pants.
"So," she replied with a shrug, "in martial arts, never let your guard down."
"Whatever," said Rush, unstrapping the guards
"Don't get all pissy because I whopped your sorry ass," she scowled, "I don't know what your problem is, you did a lot better than anyone else I sparred with."
"It's not that," he replied, "I just have too much pride for my own good."
"Well," she said, "at least you are man enough to admit something like that."
She put up her box in the tent, sliding it underneath of her cot. Rush grabbed his shaving kit and towel and headed towards the stream. Rachel wasn't far behind him.
"Umm," questioned Rush, turning around and stopping, "what are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" she replied, passing him up.
"I have never met anyone quite like her," thought Rush, following her, as she continued strolling towards the stream, "she really knows how to get underneath of my skin, but still be this cheery, friendly person."
She dropped her shorts, Rush turned around.
"Not this again," she said, "I told you, I don't care, don't be shy."
"There is no divider this time though," he replied, his back to her.
"So," she said pulling her undershirt off, "it's not like you are a perv or something, so I don't care, I need to bathe, and so do you."
Rush finally agreed, setting his towel and kit down, undoing his belt buckle. Rachel had already stripped down and slid into the stream, which was just deep enough in this pool to sit in. The bottom was made of shale, so no worries about sand or things in the sand crossed her mind. Rush finally stripped and got in.
"Not that I am not enjoying myself or anything, but what is the next mission?" questioned Rush, scrubbing his head.
"The next mission?" replied Rachel, doing the same, "I have the report in my case under my cot, so you will find out when we get done. In the meantime, just enjoy your surroundings."
Rush did so, just looking around, sometimes glancing over in Rachel's direction when she wasn't looking.