He saw her a few days ago, quite the specimen of a woman…who was she? Even with the robotic legs she held quite the figure about her…What did she like? What was she all about?
The armored Invader ran on a treadmill running at full speed. He preferred working out in his armor, letting him remain used to the weight. He looked across the gym to the other occupants, Radec, Haxx, and Rha, the other member of the crew with his newfound legs and knees courtesy of the Vortians. The demolitions specialist spent his time in a wheelchair working out, and that didn't change one bit with his legs back.
"C'mon! More weight! This is too easy!" The man was already up to 280 pounds of plates on the bar. Squats? Running? Less of an issue with the new legs, even if they weren't entirely new legs. Almost like they were an upgrade. Plenty of time in the chair also gave him plenty of time to work on his arms and core, and it showed on the bench.
Radec, spotting the eager Sergeant, moved to meet his request. Another weighed plate to either side of the bar.
"Look out now, Captain Explosion's goin' for Haxx's record." He grinned, equally as pumped. "Stumpy's fixin' to join the 300 club today! Get it!"
While the pair psyched themselves up, the recently-recuperated and still-recovering Navigator turned the corner from the lift to the vessel's fitness center. Wearing PT attire, much of her surgical scarring and healed wounds visible, especially the presence of similar hardware to Rha from below the knees down. The raucous behavior of the men gave her pause as she stopped.
"Can you two be any louder? Can hear you all the way back to Engineering." She jabbed at their expense, towels around her shoulders. "...and I hear you right? Matching Haxx's max?"
The Invader, finishing his run, stopped the treadmill and slowed down before hopping off and making his way over to the others. "That's what the man seems to want to do. He's joining the three hundo club for sure."
"Someone's got to, it's lonely up here at the top." Radec chuckled, smacking Rha's shoulder. "C'mon, do it 'fore the big man shows up to show you up!"
Rem rolled her implanted eyes. To the outside observer, they appeared normal as could be. Much like her lower leg augmentation, more than met the eye with her…eyes. The same level of performance, if not greater than her grafted implants she originally had minus the body horror bulk.
"Well, you two have fun pickin' heavy things up. I'm goin' for a run. Need to get used to these things still. Don't drop the bar."
"Ain't gonna happen!" Rha grinned at Rem through the mirror on the wall in front of him. "Rem, gotta say, first time seein' you without those grafted implants on. You got real pretty eyes."
His compliment, however innocent, elicited two reactions from two different people. Rem smirked, shaking her head as she walked away toward the bank of treadmills. Radec saw it fit to slap Rha's cheek.
"Hey! Focus! Beast mode!"
Rha grinned despite the slap. "Beast ain't gone, bro!" As Rha got to his sets, Skrem followed after Rem. He better make his move now before Sergeant Explosion got any ideas.
The Invader's helmet visor and mask were retracted, allowing him to shoot her a smile. "So I saw you around a few days ago. Don't think I've gotten a chance to meet you since I came aboard from Hel."
In the process of starting up the treadmill, setting it for a comfortable, but brisk pace with warm up and cool down accordingly, Rem was in motion as Skrem approached her. She found his decision to wear his armor a little odd but left it lie. Everyone aboard was a little eccentric in their own ways these days.
"Yeah? Which one of the newbies would you be?" Rem casually asked amidst her warm-up pace.
"Invader Skrem. Might be new here but I was one of the best in SpecOps prior to the Invader course and…before units like yours even existed."
"Ooh, an Invader. I'm in awe of your presence." She jested at his expense. His smug aura was palpable. "Name's Rem. Resident Navigator and local miracle of modern medicine, or so I'm told. Sula and the other two some how stitched the pile of meat and broken bones I was back together. Explains why I look like a cutting board now."
"Makes you look more like a distinguished veteran if anything. Not that such a thing is a bad thing in my line of work." The Invader chuckled. "But pleased to see that such a lovely looking woman like you survived an apparently horrible ordeal and kept her good looks on the other side."
Rem stifled a snicker.
"Maybe I ain't the only one that needs a new pair of eyes." She commented, making an incline adjustment on the treadmill. "I look like I came out of a woodchipper."
"Well your face still looks gorgeous. The rest of you? I'm sure you look battle hardened despite it all, but I happen to like toughness. I find it a fine quality in someone."
She only shook her head with bemusement as she looked forward for a moment, focusing on her stride.
"...trying to decide if I should be flattered or disturbed. Either you're desperate or have some weird attraction thing to girls with horrible disfigurement. Don't even know me and laying it on thick…but, to be expected from the elite of the elite, the best of the best, the crowning jewel of accomplishment that is the illustrious Invader."
Fluent sarcasm, a common second language around the ship.
"Go hard or not at all, am I right?" Skrem grinned, something of a motto he lived by when in combat but easily translating into the world of dating. "Maybe we should get to know each other a bit more when you're not focused on your workout?"
"An excellent suggestion. You can start by going hard somewhere else other than here." Rem countered, her tone equal parts coy as it was serious. "I got a lot of catching up to do and you don't look like a ship requiring a navigator, so if you would go ahead and invade someone else's space, that'd be great."
It was probably best the boys at the weights were too focused on Rha pushing the envelope to overhear the massacre delivered to Skrem by one of their own. Absolute denial.
The Invader knew when to back up, he put up his hands to chest level in surrender and backed off. Rather than keep going with what he had planned he left. May as well reconfigure, try something else, a different approach. A head on approach was clearly not the one to take with Rem.
Rem spared him a parting glance, smirking still as the treadmill picked up its pace into a steady jog. Advanced as her cybernetic legs were, it still took a great deal of time and practice to get used to them. The loss of fine motor skill and sensation compared to what once was had to be relearned and accounted for. If she was to be fit for service, she had to be able to maintain standards.
"YOU SEE THAT?! THAT'S A SET OF THREE SIXTY RIGHT THERE!" Rha let out a thunderous laugh as he set the new record. "Fuck your record, Haxx!"
The Lieutenant simply rolled his eyes and gave Rha a slow clap of approval.
Radec, equally pumped at the accomplishment, congratulated him. The competitive spirit was alive and well throughout the unit on who could outperform who. Pushing the envelop further and further. Haxx would likely answer back in due time, Radec possibly sneaking to the top briefly, or Rha to extend his reign further. Weights, laps, distance, times - everyone held precedence to some degree in something.
No one was going to touch Aero's mile times though. Not with her long stride. Speaking of, Red Team's Lieutenant made an appearance into the gym as well. The ruckus around the weight rack was hard to miss.
"What's everyone so excited about?"
Radec threw his arm around Rha's shoulders, pointing to the man with a grin.
"This guy just broke the unit record for the bench press! 360! Animal!"
Aero blinked, looking past them to the stacked weights on either side of the resting bar with a whistle.
"Wow, that is a lot. That's more than Haxx! Haxx is huge!"
"He ain't the only one, look at this guy's arms!"
"They're all…bulgey."
Rha flexed his biceps. "I mean, what the fuck else was I supposed to do when I was confined to the chair before I got my legs back? Every day was either arm day or core day. Why I look so damn good now."
She gave a pursed expression at her teammate's response. Quite a familiar yarn these days between the men showing off to one another. Perhaps a little too much.
"Uh…huh…can I try?"
"Try what?" Radec queried, confused, gesturing to the bench. "You can have the bench when we're done with our set."
"No, no, what he lifted. I wanna try it."
"...there's no way you can lift that."
"Maybe not, but I wanna try."
"C'mon, let her try it." Rha gave Aero a light smack on the back as a gesture of encouragement. "Let's see what'cha got."
Radec looked between the both of them with a hint of concern before shrugging. "Alright…might wanna get on the other side, Rha. She's gonna drop it."
Rather than counter Radec's commentary, Aero slid up under the waiting bar. Her height made it appear comically small beneath her. The waiting weight, however, was not. Planting her feet and squaring up, her palms grasped the bar.
"Ready?" Radec asked, working with Rha in unison opposite him.
"Yep. Ready." Aero nodded, tightening her grip. "One, two, three, and….up!"
Pressing out fully, the bar sagged with its load to either side, free of its cradle. Radec's prediction of instantly dropping it did not come true. At all. She held it aloft momentarily before starting slow, steady, methodical reps. Exertion, certainly, but nowhere near the strain Rha gave to achieve the same. She cleared four reps, but the fifth resisted, limbs quivering. Not quite able to lock out and fully press.
"Takeit."
Both Rha and Radec quickly lifted the weight back into its cradle, stunned. Aero sat up, wide-eyed, catching her breath.
"Wow! That IS heavy!" She commented, climbing back to her feet with a grin, clasping Rha's shoulder. "Keep it up, you might grow up to be big and strong like me one day!"
Radec burst into laughter.
Rha, dumbfounded, soon found himself laughing as well. "Just don't kill Vard with that strength of yours when you hug him, eh?"
"Oh, I won't. I know my own strength." She smiled, toweling perspiration free of her visage.
Radec managed to recover from his laughter, catching his breath with a shake of his head.
"H-how?"
"What's that?"
"How? How did you do that?!"
"Do what?"
"Lift that, Aero! You're like seven feet of skin and bone." Radec asked, dumbfounded.
She turned her head, looking to the bench, then back to Radec before shrugged.
"Dunno. Guess I'm just built different. I do a lot of heavy lifting in Engineering and tools are also heavy."
"Sula said sometimes people are just a force of nature. Aero's apparently one of them." Rha threw an arm around Haxx's shoulder while giving the man a few pats on the chest. "Just like our resident thick skulled man here who makes something of a decent Lieutenant."
"Is this what Purple Team does all the time? Grunt and pick things up?" Aero asked, puzzled.
"We occasionally set things down too." Radec snickered.
"Set th- ooooh…funny. Weightlifting." Aero realized. "Well, you boys have fun. Let me know when there's another record I can break."
"Yeah, like anyone's going to be breaking your running records any time soon, Aero." Haxx rolled his eyes. "Nobody's touchin' those with a forty foot pole."
Rha broke off for a bit before getting a smack on the back from Haxx as he made over to Rem on the treadmill. "Really good to see you up and running again after what we've been through."
By now, the Navigator had worked up a sweat at her steady pace, casting him a brief glance with a smile.
"Yeah, well…got tired of callin' the infirmary home…gonna miss my personal butt-ler though."
Rha snickered. "Yeah? You shoulda heard her at the promotion party we had. She liked her pirate look of an eyepatch before that cloned eyeball she got, so she got told to go swab the deck. She said she's been swabbin' the deck, the poop deck of the SS Rem."
"Sula and Zutel never let her live it down…just glad I can get out of bed…and walk…and feed myself again. Word of advice…never crash land. Wouldn't recommend."
"I was in the back…I wouldn't want to be where you were." Enough of that awful night on Vort. "So what'd you think of Skrem? He's not a bad guy to be around, right?"
Rem laughed, deciding to slow her pace down for a breather and maintain a conversation.
"He's…somethin' else, that's for sure." She opened with, taking the opportunity to wipe her sweaty face. "I'm over here, minidng my own business…and he opens with how great he is before he gets my name…then starts complimenting me. I'm not dense. Had plenty of time to pick at Sula's brain and listen to books on stuff."
Rha laughed. "Boy's stricken at first sight, ain't that cute?" He shook his head, "I saw him eyeballin' you a few days ago. I think he was just tryin' to get your attention…and did it in the most Haxx way possible."
"Even Haxx would've used more tact than that." She looked to Rha knowingly before putting on a mocking tone. "Hey, I'm an Invader doing all this cool guy stuff, I'm the best."
"...I mean, to be fair, he does come off as exaggerating but some of his stories are legit. I'll be honest, I like the guy. Dude was being shock tortured by SIS before he was rescued and he fought his way out alongside his rescuers. Not as bad as he comes off. Give it time, you'll prolly come to like him."
"Yeah, and I'm the best damn helmsman in the Empire but I don't toot my own horn about it." She countered, deciding to pause the treadmill before leaning on the rail toward Rha with a devious smirk. "...and why are you so interested in what he does all of a sudden?"
"Maybe part of me wanted a piece of you." Rha shot a smirk back at her. "Dunno if I'd want anythin' permanent but ever since we got unhooked I just been feelin' stuff…stuff I kinda wanna try out, y'know?"
Rem blinked, taken back by his bluntness.
"...I can't decide which of you is worse at this now. He showered me in compliments after telling me how amazingly awesome he is…and you just…yeah…"
Rha laughed, "Ya don't gotta decide now, just think it over. But you know how I am. Just nice to have ya back all the same."
"I already thought it over." Rem wistfully smirked at him. Another one bites the dust.
Rha just looked at his right hand and sighed before laughing. "How are the legs working out for you though?"
She leaned back, looking down at them between her arms, lifting one for closer inspection as her foot pivoted and twisted accordingly.
"So far, so good. It's weird getting used to them. Balance and coordination are a bit off but Sula said enough physical therapy and PT and I'll be good as new. Essentially have to learn how to walk all over again but my feet are numb this time. It sucks."
Rha knocked on one of his artificial knees. "Yeah I kinda know how you feel. I mean, on one hand, it's nice that I don't have to worry about extended time kneeling or on my feet and my feet going numb, and things like squats have been easier. But…I had the sensation that I could still feel my legs there for a while after they were amputated. Now it's just these. Nice to have the artificial muscle and a high end prosthetic but…not the same."
"Hey, look on the bright side: no more stubbed toes." She snickered. "No sense in lettin' it get us down. What's done is done…could be worse though. You could look like that one Invader that's always on the propaganda posters…Nussa?"
"Nossa." Rha laughed. "She's from the same Invader class as Skrem, took first place from him by single digits of point differences. He knows her personally."
"Oh, really?" Rem grinned at the ammunition Rha just loaded for bear in her favor. "Perhaps I'll bring it up the next time he throws himself at me with reckless abandon."
Rha smirked, "Yeah, remind him that he holds the most prestigious position of First Loser. That'll teach him."
"Little humility goes a long way these days." The Navigator summarized, turning back to start the treadmill back up, slowly gaining momentum. "Can chat more later. Gotta focus."
Rha nodded, leaving her with a fistbump before heading back to Radec and Haxx to continue their workout.
Meanwhile, the rest of Green Team, save for Skrem, was present on the range. Orkos making sure everyone qualified on various weapon platforms. Standard static line shooting. Chavsa was finding herself increasingly frustrated at failing with her issued rifle.
Aren, acting as range officer while her squad sent bolts down the simulated range with realistic feedback, remained patient and relaxed. Deris and Lorlo were consistently making their hits at-range. A great deal of improvement over their trial-by-fire at Hel rescuing Skrem initially. Chavsa, on the other hand, was lacking.
Kneeling at the Private's right, she spotted for her. Engagement range of approximately 100 meters. Standard-fare and typical in their line of work. The Sergeant watched as the next bolt zipped high and right over the target's shoulder and a frustrated growl from Chavsa. Aren's hand rest on the girl's shoulder, squeezing.
"Relax. This is why we're here, to get better." She encouraged, flipping her safety on for her. "Set it down, let's put our heads together and figure it out."
Chavsa set her rifle down and backed off to sit with a frustrated huff. She shook her head. "I think this thing hates me or something." She paused, glancing to a nearby weapons rack and seeing a PDW, a plasma SMG not unlike what she trained with in the Armada that would've made up part of her survival kit if she bailed out in atmospheric operations. "...Can you humor me in trying something? I know I can't be this bad.
Aren looked over her shoulder in the same direction, seeing the armory of training weapons lining the wall, specifically designed for the unique range and properly simulate conditions in a limited space.
"I know you're not bad. You're unfamiliar with this weapon. We're familiarizing you." She explained gently, reaching into her pocket for a single minted coin of Irken currency. "Tell you what. I want you to try a couple of things for me first. Do them for me, score a single hit, and I'll let you grab whatever you want to practice with. Deal?"
Chavsa nodded, looking at her rifle and the optic mounted on it. She turned it off and flipped the backup sights up into position. "I guess it won't hurt to try…Something just may be up with this dot ever since I threw it on the floor before."
"One of many reasons why your weapon should never hit the deck. Hand it here and I'll make sure it's zeroed." Aren offered, taking up the weapon from her kneeling position.
Tucking the stock into her shoulder, elbow to her raised knee to brace, a deep breath in. Held. Trigger press. A center-mass hit on the target giving Chavsa so much trouble, disintegrating into whisps of colored visible light before another formed in its place.
"Seems to be on to me but we'll check your optic out later." She compromised, safetying the weapon before handing it back to the Private. "Now, take this coin and you see that flat spot near your muzzle? Lay it on there and prepare to fire again before I start correcting. Maybe you'll pick up on it."
Chavsa nodded, placing the coin where instructed before shouldering the rifle and seeing the coin slowly slide off to the left. "...Huh."
"Okay, first problem." Aren began, leaning over to pick the round of metal up. "You're tilting the rifle just enough to throw your point of aim off. Tuck your elbows in tighter, use the contact with the ground to your advantage for stability…yeah, just like that…now…" She paused, setting the coin back on her held weapon. "Engage your target when you're ready."
The pilot took a breath, pulling the trigger. Enough to jerk the rifle to the right but it still made a grazing hit enough for the system to count it. Doing so saw the coin fall off to the deck with a clatter. Aren had her questions answered.
"An improvement, but a close shave isn't a kill. We want these guys dropped and down for good if they're returning fire on us." The Sergeant opened, safetying Chavsa's rifle before continuing. "Before I explain what you need to do, what do you think you need to do?"
"Not jerk it. Yanked it too hard. Didn't have that problem with the PDW like on the wall there."
"No two weapon systems are the same. I'm familiar with your PDW, it's lighter, more compact, and easier to move with on top of having a shorter trigger pull. This rifle's the workhorse of the Empire and what qualification standards are set to. Got to walk before we can run." Aren offered, gesturing to the weapon. "Your thoughts are correct. You are slapping the dookie out of the trigger. Smashing it too hard, too quickly, and pulling your shot."
She held the rifle up for Chavsa to take once again, setting the coin in place.
"This time, I want you to intentionally go as slow as you possibly can. Breathe in, hold, and a steady, slow press. It should surprise you when it goes off. Monies to muffins you'll put one center mass. Show me how it's done, Private."
The rank showed some irritation reminding her she's been cheated but she's been learning to try and push past it. Slower breathing, the trigger seemed lighter and then it got heavier to her. Still…nice and slow…and then off it went. Dead center just like Aren said it would go. The coin remained in place this time.
Aren grinned. Finally, an improvement. Progress!
"Aaaaand there it is, one dead hostile." She beamed, clasping the Private's shoulder. "Good work. The more you do that, the more natural it will become. Muscle memory and all that. You'll know when it'll break and fire by feeling. Get good enough and you can take up all the travel right to that point and hold it until ready. How do you feel?"
"I still genuinely fucking hate this piece of shit." The pilot shook her head, apparently picking up some more language from Jur from doing maintenance work in the hangar. "But I guess I can actually hit the broadside of something."
"No guessing to it, you can." Aren corrected, attempting to motivate her. "You just did it and now you know how to do it every single time. You do it just like that, you'll pass qualification with zero issues. Be proud of your accomplishment. I know I am."
Chavsa set her rifle down after putting it on safe. "I know I'm not that bad with the PDW or with a sidearm. Had to qualify on both of them for my flight certification but the rifle's new."
"Is that your unsubtle way of reminding me to hold up my end of the deal?" Aren huffed in amusement, jerking her head towards the arsenal rack. "Clear your weapon and exchange it. You talk a big game about this PDW and your talent behind it. Show me."
Chavsa did just that, stowing the rifle after clearing it and grabbing a PDW off the rack and loading it once she got back to the firing line. A quick adjustment to stock length before she shouldered it. She fired, one bolt after another in a tight group as she fired on semi-automatic. Once she had a feel for the weapon system, she flipped the switch, firing in controlled bursts with fine control, making shots in center mass or on the head of a target before looking at Aren.
The Sergeant watched her subordinate smoothly transition from target-to-target, scoring clean hits. Precise single shots and tightly-controlled bursts alike, by the time the final target dissipated, she racked up a near-perfect score, her only deviation being shot placement on a handful of burst targets. Aren couldn't help but nod approvingly.
"Now that I know you can shoot, I definitely expect you to pass rifle qualification now." She grinned at her. "You give me a passing score, I'll let you switch to the PDW unless the mission calls for something else. Fair?"
Chavsa grinned. "You know what? I can live with that."
"You know what you have to do, make it happen Private." She leaned, patting Chavsa's upper arm before making to move past her. "Do the thing you hate the most and it becomes less hated. Use the rest of your range time accordingly."
Upon conclusion, she made her way down the line in observation of Lorlo and Deris. Both consistently hit their marks and were showing great improvement on tracking moving targets both near and far. Further down was Orkos.
Orkos watched what transpired from afar, looking over at the two women. "Aren, did I just see what I think I saw? Did you just find something our pilot was good at?"
Back to the rest of Green Team, they couldn't see the grinning elation on their Sergeant's face as she quickened her approach to Orkos, raising her fists in the smallest of victories.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves now," She made light of his statement, turning around once composed properly to watch the team continue with their shared range time. "...but it's progress. Now comes the consistency part. She clears that hurdle, we're golden."
"Things also look like they improved personally between the two of you." He cracked a smirk. "Haven't been wanting to smother her in your sleep recently, have you?"
"Not recently, no. Between knocking some sense into her and our sit-down with the Commander…both of us are trying to make it work." She paused, looking up to the Lieutenant with a smirk. "Weird that improvement happens almost immediately when they don't fight me every step of the way, isn't it?"
"Oh, yeah, absolutely marvelous that is." He chuckled at his sarcastic answer. "Be careful she doesn't come to like you too much. You may never get her to leave you alone, probably."
"Somehow I doubt that," Aren mused between them. "Running them until they puke is a reminder of just how mean I can be if they step out of line…though I am curious why you're concerned about that. Don't think I can handle myself?"
"Oh, no, nothing like that. If anything I'm thinking some stick jockey might try to muscle her way onto my second, if you get what I mean." Orkos shook his head. "Or maybe I'm just being jealous."
Aren's brow furrowed in equal parts confusion and disbelief as she looked to him fully.
"You…jealous of Chavsa? Why?"
Orkos shrugged. "I don't know why. Maybe she wants to…you know, do what we did, but between the two of you…and then you might find you like it more…and then I don't have you in that way." He laid out his strange way of thinking about the situation. "I know it sounds stupid and weird but that's what I guess I'm worried about."
"Do what we d-..." She struggled to comprehend his logic. "That's now how that works…I think. Look, doesn't matter. I don't know why you're worried about that anyway. I'm not goin' anywhere so long as I can help it."
"I guess I'm as dumb with romance as I am with leadership." The Lieutenant sighed and shook his head. "So long as you two aren't trying to kill each other it makes life a whole lot easier."
She left it lie for the time being, picking up on his latter statement.
"So far, so good. She continues to listen and improve, I won't get mad at her. Win-win. We may have the makings of a competent team here and not get wrecked in force-on-force by Red and Purple."
"Yeah, yeah no kidding. Skrem shouldn't have to carry us all to victory. We really need to carry our own weight. One man doesn't make a team…or one man and two Elites more like." Orkos paused and looked around the range. "...Speaking of where is he? I know he gets plenty more leeway being ex SpecOps from the higher ups and all but still."
"Your guess is as good as mine. He shows up when he's needed and leaves when he's had enough of our incompetence as he puts it. Suppose we're somewhere in between at the moment until his next sighting."
"I can see why he'd be frustrated with all of us. I'd want to go drink myself into a coma sometimes with all of the stupid things we've done." Orkos looked down at Chavsa as she acquired a sidearm from the rack of weapons and went about precision handgun shooting, causing the man to stop and stare for some time as he watched her make consistent one hundred yard center mass shots with a pistol and no optic. Without saying a word, he slowly grasped Aren's shoulders and turned her to face the pilot at work.
"Look at what you did. She's actually good for something now."
Aren smiled proudly at the fruits of her labors from afar. "I may make a soldier out of her yet."
"If you can make a halfway decent dirt eater out of a fly girl will find a way to give you a medal." He chuckled.
The door to the range opened, Red team's replacement for Kazak in the marksmanship department walking into the room. The sniper's attention went to the pilot's precision marksmanship with a sidearm. Gers raised up a targeting visor he had on and nodded in approval. Seeing the range occupied, he decided to leave and come back later. Let the new guys have their fun and not demoralize any of them.
His path took him by the medbay, doors open, the two medics talking inside.
"Sula, look at you. You look like you've been run through the wringer. How much sleep have you been getting lately?" Zutel asked, cutting right to the point.
"Enough." The resident lead medical officer responded shortly, paying careful attention to her ongoing analysis of bloodwork.
The dark circles under her normally bright, golden brown eyes told another tale.
"No, I'm serious. Have you looked in a mirror lately? I know we put a lot of hours in but if you keep this up you're going to wind up on one of these beds yourself."
"I'm fine." She answered, suppressing her annoyance as she meticulously worked. "Really. Increased our crew compartment, with it comes additional work."
"And that's why the General gave me to you guys, and Posa."
"I barely let Posa near a butterknife, let alone a scalpel…she's not where she needs to be to run things by herself. Not yet." Sula derisively commented, concluding one marked vial of work for Rem, moving onto Rha's.
"Yeah…yeah I'm trying to teach her." Zutel sighed. "Look, I can handle things here. You really need a break before you collapse on the floor."
Zutel's insistence touched once more on a very raw nerve as the Medical Officer's tools clattered atop the counter, palms planted, and facing her with a glare.
"...I am fine, Zutel. I will take a break after I am done here."
A lie that flowed like water for the upteenth time. She never stopped. Taking inventory, cleaning from top-to-bottom, organizing files…all the clerical and administrative things someone such as Posa should have been handling. She took it upon herself to do as much as possible for as long as possible. She was barely sighted outside of the infirmary unless it was mandatory. A rare sight during mess. From her bunk to med bay and back, day in day out.
The lie absolutely tore it. The part of Zutel that was a soldier in SpecOps came out as she stormed forward and grabbed Sula and practically threw her into the hallway out of the infirmary before slamming the door shut and locking it. Whatever was going on, she needed to get through it. Burying herself in her work wasn't going to bring anyone anything good.
The suddenness of it caught Sula off-guard. One moment, she was analyzing a blood sample. The next, tossed out of her own med bay by Zutel. Before she could rush back in and tell her precisely what she thought about her rude behavior, the door slammed shut and locked.
Gers stopped right in his tracks at the sight.
Struggling to maintain her composure at the boiling fury beneath her placid surface, the Medical Officer keyed the comms from outside.
"Zutel. Open the door. Now."
"You're on break until whatever you're going through is over with!" Zutel yelled through the door at the ousted medical officer.
"The only thing I'm going through is my patience with you, open this damn door!"
"...You all right, Lieutenant? You look like you just spent a month in a hide waiting to kill a Field Marshal." Gers reluctantly asked Sula.
Caught up in her own little world within the infirmary and the unfolding drama of being exiled from her domain, Sula wheeled around, startled by Gers' presence. It took every ounce of restraint to not lash out at him for Zutel's actions taken against her. A man guilty of being in the wrong place at the wrong time for all the wrong reasons. No, she was better than that, even on her worst days…usually.
"I'm…fine, Sergeant." She regurgitated, taking a deep breath and regain composure. "Zutel…is in a mood, apparently."
The marksman held out a hand to her, "You want a drink? I still have some of the stuff from Vort in my personal stash. I don't drink much myself. My treat."
She eyed his offered hand briefly before looking back to his face. The knee-jerk response already formulated at the forefront of her thoughts before it was out of her mouth.
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm on-duty. Last thing anyone needs is a medic too intoxicated to do their job."
"I also have sodas and energy drinks aside from alcohol in the stash if that helps." His hand remained up, seeming to want to talk to the medic. It seemed like she needed someone to vent to.
Having her excuse challenged and bluff subsequently called elicited a sigh of defeat from the Medical Officer. Tired shoulders slumped before gesturing for him to lead on. The idea of something refreshing was tantalizing enough having been…some time since she could last remember eating or drinking anything. Over a full day at the minimum.
Gers led Sula to his quarters, letting her have the seat at his desk, the Vortian plasma pistol of his on it that he was doing some maintenance on prior to his range attempt. The marksman opened his closet, a small refrigerator installed inside. He retrieved a beer for himself and an energy drink for Sula, holding out the can for her to take before sitting on his bed.
"I barely see you around the ship, and we're on the same team. Is it really that busy in there?"
Following after him, she took the offered seat across from his bunk. Only once she sat down and relaxed did the layers of stress and near-exhaustion hit her. She suddenly felt ten times heavier. The long, unnecessary hours of busy-work, missed meals, and lack of proper rest were taking their toll on her. The worst part of it all: It was self-inflicted.
"It has been, yes." She settled for in response, popping the pressurized top of the canned drink for a much-needed drink. "Not so much now that Rem and Haxx are not frequent fliers in the med bay."
"Yet I still rarely see you since those three came out. Even when the Commander wants to run simulations you're nowhere to be seen. I know what went down on Vort…even if Kaz and I arrived too late to help anything. We saw the aftermath, we heard what went down. You were there…how are you dealing with it?"
Sula's expression tightened incredulously as she lowered the can from her mouth.
"...is that a rhetorical question? About as well as everyone else is. What's done is done. Can't change what happened, only what will."
"It seems like there's something more…I've seen a couple snipers in my time get about to where you are after their first kills, even with the PAK programming. One of them didn't even come back from one op…just…collapsed right there in the field and keeled over. Overly fatigued, never talked to anyone." The man sighed. "Is there something more that happened on Vort? Something extremely personal?"
The Medical Officer downed the remaining contents of the can before crushing it with a squeeze, dropping it onto Gers' desk unceremoniously. "Aside from spending more time than I'd like under a non-stop hail of enemy fire from all sides while performing meticulous reconstructive surgery? Nothing else noteworthy, personally. You know the rest already."
"And that's it, nothing else happened on Vort aside from that? I can get being in that hellfire of a situation that you were in and why it'd drive you to this point but…take it from someone who has to deal with seeing the people he kills in the face, it seems to me there's something else going on."
"Plenty of things happened. Most of them terrible." Sula summarized with a shrug. "I don't make a habit of reliving the worst parts of my life if I can avoid it. Sure one of us will end up documenting things for preservation's sake one day. I'm not that person."
"Maybe it'll be Kaz, maybe it'll be me, Zurr, who knows. You'd probably make an all right sniper if you don't like opening up. None of us really like talking about things. We're all more likely to close in on ourselves even if it kills us."
She scoffed, turning her head with a twisting scowl.
"Right, a sniper. My job's to help people, not kill them. Complete opposite…beside, my head isn't far enough up my own c'hurta like some of you to make it work even if I wanted to. I actually care for my friends and want to see everyone here make it through…whatever is coming our way."
"...Did Zurr say something he shouldn't have? The Cap? First Sergeant?" Didn't even cross Gers' mind that Kaz would be the source of her complaint.
Sula didn't answer him immediately. Standing up, she helped herself to his fridge for another refreshment. This time, a beer the same as his. Returning to the chair, she made use of the desk's edge as a makeshift opener. Palm flat to the cap atop, she slammed straight down, popping it off. Something she apparently had a lot of practice at.
"None of the above. The almighty, glorious Lost One himself." She sarcastically spoke, describing the walking, talking lone wolf trope that was Kazak. "One thing to reject me with all this weird feeling nonsense going on with all of us acclimatizing to the changes physically and psychologically. Another to call me a liability to my face and treating everyone like debts to be paid or owed."
She sneered with contempt, taking a scornful drink.
"Should've socked him in the mouth when I had the chance before we shoved off feet-first into the fire."
Gers blinked. "I've always known he was tough and concerned with making sure we were all able to come back alive. Didn't figure he was an extreme loner." The marksman shook his head. "If it means anything, I don't think you're a liability. Anyone with your dedication would be worth her weight in gold, no matter her occupation."
"I would say to remind him I saved his life from drowning in a pit of alien shit but he made it clear we're "even" when he stopped me from bleeding out hours before. The absolute audacity of him. Acts like the rest of us are useless and gets in his way when the only thing he can do really well is hide and shoot people from far away. Good job, great, amazing, try maintaining that composure when someone is begging you to save their life and you can't."
Gers was going to say that it's about the only thing he's also good for but decided against it, pausing to think. A strategic sip of his beer to give him some time to formulate a response to the medic.
"Honestly, you medics have to have just as strong a resolve as we do. We have to look the people we kill in the face when we pull the trigger. They may very well die in your hands when you're trying to save them. You medics have it worse…in a way, makes you the stronger breed."
Sula gave a humorless huff before another drink.
"Nobody's stronger than anybody. We all have our specialties and strengths. The unit's a machine, we're the cogs inside of it that keep it running smoothly." She spoke, equal parts humble and dejected. "I'm just as capable of laying down fire as anyone else. I'm just better at stuffing meat back inside of it's casing and stopping the leaks. Even without the PAK programming overriding things, it's second-nature. We're all made of the same stuff. I know how to fix that stuff. Simple as…so when someone like Kazak tries to compare misery and hardship with me while making light of my own, I tend to get a little heated."
"Don't sell yourself too short. It's one thing to be able to take life. It's another to have hands that work to preserve it." Gers took a breath before drinking some more of his beer. Some silence followed and then he shook his head. "And I'm not so good at this sort of thing. I guess I'm not too talkative like the others. I just wouldn't make light of anyone else's ordeals."
"A common personality trait all of you seem to have," Sula commented before taking a hearty swig. Amidst swallowing, she suppressed a small laugh of amusement. "...unrelated, but thinking back to Lieutenant Headass's comments about debts to be paid and owed…I've technically got the most seniority here out of everyone so much more is owed to me."
"And you don't hold it over anyone's head. Says a lot about you. Love being helpful?"
"Something like that." She began, tipping her bottle up, draining the last of it. "I was on one of the last ships off of Praxxus 7 with a Lieutenant Vult of the Irken Elite. He slumped over and passed out on the ride back to Irk. I pulled a chunk of shrapnel out of his PAK and saved his life. The Tallest requested his audience, he returned, and immediately offered me a spot on this team he was building. The rest…is history."
"So…without you nobody else would be standing here." The marksman chuckled. "Mizak and Kaz pulled me into the Scout Snipers, then I get pulled into this by one of 'em. Yet, if not for you…well, I suppose none of this would have been put into motion as we know it now would it?"
"Maybe, maybe not. If not the Commander, someone else would have been selected. Far as the outcome and who made the team then, the possibilities are infinite." She mused with a forlorn sigh, studying the empty bottle in her grasp for a moment before speaking again.
"...we can't change what has come to pass…but Irk I wish I could. Zutel, Posa, and a lot of luck saw Rem pull through…but not even the best doctor in the universe could've saved Volx."
"I heard…PAK torn to shreds, mass drivers on these unarmored things…" He shook his head. "I can't imagine how it is to be in your situation, unable to help someone you desperately want to save."
The Medical Officer didn't respond quickly. Had he said the wrong thing? Her weary, honey gaze distant, deep in thought. A myriad of complex emotions struggled to find their way to the surface and be expressed.
"I'm used to death. It's part of what we do. A part of life. All living things will expire at one point or another. It is natural to die." She began, looking up to him finally. "...seeing what it does to the living who survive is what disturbs me more. How it can break a person entirely. The irrational, illogical things they'll do in response. Survivor's guilt. Just like what happened to Haxx. It changed him. You wouldn't even recognize who he was when we first met. You begin to wonder if your death will have that same impact on the people you care so deeply about…and afraid of what it'll do to them."
"How different is he? I was told he was a real meathead before, he kinda seems like that. Though I saw him try to kill Corr despite everything he went through, and the three of you dragging him into the infirmary against his will. Or is he wearing a mask?"
"...brash, arrogant, single-minded. Intentionally pushed as many buttons as he possibly could, pushing the limits of insubordination and trying everyone's patience. After the Lieutenant's…I haven't seen that part of him since. He can be stubborn and obstinate, but he…grew up. Matured. Was forced to without the one he cared about the most there. His teammates needed him and he rose to the occasion. Losing Volx rattled all of us but he was hit the hardest by it. Cared about her. Deeply."
"A bond I don't know the first thing about, but something I guess I can relate to. Had a good relationship with a spotter I had for a good chunk of Vort. Izi, great gal, sharp eye, favored open sights for taking shots instead of a scope when she did the shooting but she made her marks…really developed a taste for Vortian folk music too." Gers smirked and shook his head, trying not to think about if she was still around or not. "You cared about Volx too, clearly."
Gers' empathy cut through her like a plasma blade. The truth they all knew. The truth they all were forced to live with until the end of their days. The truth she did her damnedest to avoid through unreasonable hours of toil and only resting at the brink of collapse.
"We all did. I'll admit, I didn't fully understand the concept of family the Commander was trying to impart on us back then when this all started. Turning inward and relying on each other instead of the Empire out of necessity. You know how it is in Special Operations. No support, no logistics, no reinforcements, on your own and have to make due with what you have. He took it a step further and we were family before we even knew what that word meant. She was many things to all of us: A mentor…a leader…a sister…and to Haxx, a lover."
Sula paused, rubbing at her welling up eyes as the reality of the topic hit home.
"He was able to say goodbye when we couldn't. At least she wasn't alone." She concluded, her voice breaking with a shuddering exhale.
The sniper rose from his seat, setting his third full beer down on the desk before putting both hands on the medic's shoulders. There it was. The root of the pain. Loss…loss he knew from a lot of guys he knew dying on Vort because of Grimm. Not because of the enemy but their own fire…and even if he wasn't as close, the rage and bitterness came through despite the programming. He understood, at least partially, and wanted to help somehow.
"I know it doesn't mean much since I came on board at Vort, but…I can try to be here for you as well as I can."
Her only response was a nod, making use of her sleeve to wipe away tears yet to fall. The contact. The presence. The empathetic offer. Three simple elements combined into something comforting. A soothing reprieve from self-imposed exhaustion and distraction. Raising her head, she turned to look up at him with a weary, thin smile.
"Means more than you think."
"It does? I mean I know I'm not the best at this sort of thing but I'm glad. Really, I am."
"As you should be. Refreshing to know not everyone is like Kazak or Tuu that frames everyone up in a set of crosshairs." She morbidly mused, reaching up to pat one of Gers' hands to her shoulder.
"It's what I'm best at but it shouldn't be everything, right?"
"Agreed…something I've intentionally forgotten as of lately." Sula admitted guiltily. "I was so busy tending to Rem, Haxx, Rha…I was focused elsewhere and didn't have the time or luxury to think about everything. Everyone else went through their stages of grief, I couldn't. Not with others' lives at-risk. Now that they're back up-to-speed…it's a hard hit not so easily shrugged off."
The Medical Officer made to stand from the desk chair. Only once she moved upright did two things quickly make themselves apparent. How utterly worn down and tired she was as her knees threatened to buckle…and alcohol on an empty stomach didn't help the situation any as Gers' room rapidly tilted and swayed. Lightheaded, she stumbled into him, grasping a shoulder and the opposite arm for support to stop the room from spinning.
He rapidly rose from his seat to stop her fall, rapid reflexes, something he had even before he joined the snipers. A bit of shifting and he lifted Sula, carrying her over to his bed and setting her down on it. As good a place as any in the interim.
"You want to rest here for now and head back to your room later?"
Rather than resist being so easily handled as such, Sula succumbed to the comforting contact. The weight of his presence, the warmth of his hands, the sound of his voice. All of it welcoming. Greedily, she wished to bask in it.
"Here's fine…'less you'd rather I didn't."
"Nah, you're fine."
He set about removing Sula's boots and setting them aside as well as her lab coat to rest on the back of his chair. He reached into his closet to pull out a VDF issue blanket he kept for use in the field and draped it over her. Warm, insulating, a cozy way to sleep even if it wasn't her own bed.
"Need anything else? I need to get back to other things around the ship but I want to make sure you're fine first."
Before she could utter a word of protest at his insistence, she was made extremely comfortable in his bunk. The blanket, heavier and softer than their usual fare, enveloped her. Tired eyes felt all the heavier at the sudden warmth.
"Go'head…I'll…be…" She struggled to stay awake, physically at her limit before succumbing to her body's demands. Talk later, rest now.
The sniper turned out the lights in his quarters from the door before leaving the medic to her rest. She needed it, desperately. Maybe he'd bring her some of that Vortian bean water for her later when she woke up.