A/N: DOUBLE POST!
I've got a bit of a surprise for you loyal readers, this time around. I mulled around the idea of adding a prologue to the very beginning of the story for several weeks, and I finally managed to sit down to complete it. So, if you will direct your attention wayyyy back to Chapter 1, you'll notice that there's almost a whole, entirely new chapter tacked onto its beginning. Seeing as how the action in the story has died down a bit lately at this point, I felt like this would be a nice change of pace to the current readers. I know you guys have been starving for some tasty space combat action, and I have served up a full plate of it in the prologue chapter. Be sure to check it out either before or after you read this chapter; it really doesn't matter either way.
As far as this chapter goes, the action does get turned up a few notches. I was honestly very satisfied with the way this whole part of the story worked out. It's tough to read your own work and look at it objectively, but I had to compliment myself on it, for a change. Even my test reader was pleasantly surprised with my resulting chapter. This one is part one of three. The original chapter was almost 28k words, and I've decided to break it up into three parts so I can update the story with more frequency in the near future.
If anyone is wondering, I've never personally been in a paintball match. It's something I'd love to try some day, but that may have to wait for some time. I ended up doing a lot of research into what exactly goes on in a paintball match by watching countless videos of woodsball matches. I also watched several videos on paintball accessories and models of different guns to get a feel as to how they operate. I then used my imagination to construct what it would be like in the future. Sure, they'd have access to some kind of virtual version of old-skool paintball, but what's paintball if you don't get a huge welt on your skin from getting hit? If you ask me, it would cease to be paintball at that point. Eff laser tag! Laser tag is for wimps! :D
School is going by well. I just got finished with calculus 2 in the first summer semester at school and got an A... Ohhhh, yeah! I'm still taking statics and I will be starting chemistry 2 this Monday. Once I'm done with those classes, it's off to UTA!
My current goal for this fic is to post every other weekend from here on out. I may miss a week here or there, but with the shorter chapters, I should be able to fill that schedule with greater ease than before. The prologue I wrote was about 5800 words and it took me about a day's worth of attention, whenever I wasn't obligated to take care of something else. In all honesty, I threw that together relatively quickly, when compared to the amount of pondering I do with each new chapter.
Anyway, let me know of your impressions. I always enjoy the feedback and it helps keep me motivated to produce more material for you guys. See you again in a couple of weeks! -(07/10/11)
Amidst the heavy brush and tall grass, Alto and his fledgling pilots foraged for their target. The repeating sound of distant paintball markers firing their rounds came from all directions. "Keep your eyes peeled for that flag, guys. It should be around here somewhere," he ordered his wingmates.
They were happy to oblige, but the two pilots who were new to his team were still somewhat in a state of awe at the fact that they were standing next to someone who had a close personal relationship with two certain celebrities. "Can I ask you a question, Lieutenant Saotome?"
Already a bit apprehensive to approve, Alto nodded with a grunt. He had a feeling that he knew what was going to be asked. However, he didn't want to appear unfriendly to his fledglings.
"What's it like to be dating both Sheryl and Ranka at the same time?"
Alto let out a forceful sigh. "It's not like that. Why does everyone think that we're some kind of menage a trois?"
"Well, I see how they're both always giving you that 'special' kind of attention. I just figured you were going out with them both. It's not hard to see, based on their behavior around you." One of the other pilots nodded in agreement.
"You have to understand that I'm getting really tired of being asked that question all of the time."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I was just curious and excited to ask, that's all."
"Well, it's not what it looks like," Alto concluded.
A silence fell over the quartet while they trudged through the brush. The sound of leaves and sticks crunching under their shoes, along with the nearby paintball gunfire was all that could be heard at that time.
The same pilot decided to continue the conversation, even though Alto thought it was already over. "Well, if you're not dating them, do you think you could introduce me to Sheryl?"
Alto looked at him, annoyed by his question. Before he could respond, one of his other pilots also asked a similar question, "Yeah, and I'd love to get to know Ranka on a more personal basis! Hook a brotha up!"
Gritting his teeth, Alto put an immediate end to the conversation. "Guys! This is hardly the time and place to be talking about that kind of thing. Keep quiet, or you're gonna give away our position! As pilots, you should know the importance of radio silence when covertly operating in hostile environments!"
To drive the point home, the sound of a nearby paintball marker firing was immediately followed by the appearance of a splotch of paint on one of the pilots' shoulders. "Agh! I'm hit!" he exclaimed, wiping his hand over his shirt and looking at it, as if it was his own blood.
The rest of the team dove to the ground to avoid the incoming fire as several other markers began to fire at them.
"I told you!" Alto exclaimed.
The marked pilot stood there in the middle of the firefight, in disbelief that he was already out of the match. He was again hit by some of the crossfire and cried out in pain, since he was getting hit where there was no protection from the sting of the paintball impacts. "Dammit, you already got me! That hurts!" he yelled at the group of opposing players several dozen yards away.
"Then move the hell out of the way!" one of them responded.
Alto and the remaining pilots in his team opened fire to hold back their opponents. "Look! One of them has the flag!" he declared to his teammates. He then put his hand to the side of his head to open his radio to the rest of the team, "We've sighted the flag. It's in grid B-3 and the it's in the enemy's possession. I'm down one man already!"
"Well, take it from them!" Ozma's voice chided over the radio, "Are you gonna let them push you guys around like that?"
Alto grunted in reaction and realized that he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.
"They're not going to help us?" one of his pilots asked.
"Of course not. We're in one of the best fighter squadrons in the NUNS. I think we can handle adversity pretty well and Commander Lee knows that." Alto got up to find a better form of cover to engage their opponents. "If you're not prepared to fight against the odds, then you're in the wrong outfit, pilot!" he said as he leaned up against a nearby tree and opened fire with his marker.
The one pilot in his team who had survived the battle a few weeks earlier nodded towards the new pilot with confidence. It didn't take long for the new pilot to realize that he was among an elite rank of pilots and that they should be capable of more than the average NUNS soldier. "Okay! Let's do this, then!"
"Confidence is both a pilot's strength and weakness," Alto continued while firing an occasional burst from his marker, "Being self-assured in what you are capable, while at the same time aware of your limits is the key to finding the perfect balance in battle." Alto felt it necessary to dispense some of the knowledge he's gained through combat experience to his fledgling pilots. They were successful in marking a few of their enemies on the other side of the small clearing in the forest, including the flag-carrier. "See? There's better things to do than to talk about women while in combat, right?"
"Right!" both pilots simultaneously answered, continuing to fire upon their opponents.
"Remember the squadron motto: 'Always outnumbered, never outgunned'!" Alto blared to his pilots.
…
"Nene told me what happened to you at her place last night," Will casually remarked to Cal. He was lying on top of some matted brush, with only his head showing above the pile of greenery. With the ghillie-like cloak covering his back, his rifle-style marker slowly panned from left to right as he looked for targets.
Cal was sitting down on the ground next to him, covering Will's six. He grunted with nonchalance at the statement.
"Are you holding up okay?" Will asked.
"I don't see anyone right now. You're good to go."
"That's not what I meant," Will replied with a laugh, "I meant between you and Klan."
"Hm? Oh, I'm sorry... I guess I wasn't really paying attention, there. I'm fine."
"'Fine', huh?" Will said with a hint of disbelief, "You two looked like you were having a bit of a spat back there in the pavilion. Then she decided to single you out as we were starting the game. I'm confused. It's like nothing has changed between you two."
"Women are confusing, aren't they? They say one thing, but mean another. You just can't get the straight truth out of them," Cal responded. Obviously, he was still somewhat upset about Klan's reasoning from the night before.
"I don't know, Cal. I don't really have that problem with Nene. She and I have gotten along swimmingly ever since we met. We are always able to second-guess each other; it's as if we think exactly alike- Hold on..." he interrupted himself. He fell silent after taking a short breath and holding it in.
Cal looked up at him just in time to see him fire his rifle, flinching in reaction to its loud "POP" sound.
"Dammit!" Will exclaimed as he quickly cocked the bolt to load another round into the firing chamber. He fell silent for another moment before pulling the trigger again. *POP!* A moment after the round fired, a distant scream could be heard. He started to laugh as he saw what had happened, "Ha ha... That guy is not going to be able to comfortably sit down for a few days. I got him right on his ass!"
Cal smiled at the report of success. He also snickered a bit at Will's off-color remark. "Anyway, I'm glad to hear that you two get along so well. It's completely opposite for Klan and I. We constantly argue with each other and I always feel like I'm walking on eggshells around her."
"I'll bet dollars to dimes that she feels the same way around you."
"What?" Cal asked for clarification.
"That she has to be careful of what she says around you, or you're gonna take it the wrong way."
"Oh." Cal didn't consider her point of view when it came to the interaction between the two of them. He always just assumed that she would say whatever she wanted, without any consideration as to how it would affect him. However, her recent apprehension around the matters of the heart fit in line with what Will had just told him. "Damn. Maybe you're right. I never thought of it that way."
"Sometimes, it's hard to see yourself from a third-person perspective... without a clear, unbiased opinion."
"So, what you're saying is that I should listen to you more often?" Cal said with a laugh.
"Yup! That's what you need a wingman for." Will adjusted his scope and caught sight of some of his teammates. "There they are..."
"Who?"
"Saotome and his brood. He's got the flag and he's moving up into enemy territory. We just need to make sure he doesn't get hit."
"Good!" Cal replied. He got up to get a look at their immediate surroundings. He panned across the small meadow nearby and narrowed his eyes as if he was trying to locate something. "Have you seen either of their snipers?"
"I haven't seen nor heard," was the reply. Will opened up his radio to the team, "Patterson, have you seen any sniper activity?"
"None," the radio replied, "I've only seen your activity. Nice butt-shot on that one guy, by the way!" A few laughs opened up on the radio in response, including Will's.
"Thanks. Now let's see if we can clear a path for Saotome and his team."
"Roger that!"
Will snapped the cover on his scope shut and secured his gear as he rolled over to look at Cal. "Okay, we need to move up. Patterson's probably doing the same thing on the east side of the course. We'll just cover from the west side."
Just as Cal nodded in acknowledgment, the muffled sound of a distant paintball rifle shot could be heard above the normal marker fire. They both rolled back onto their stomachs to find the source of the sniper fire. Will opened his radio back up, "Patterson, was that you?"
"Negative. Saotome is pinned down. One of his guys got hit by an enemy sniper."
"Dammit!" Will exclaimed in Cal's direction. "We need to find that asshole before he tears through them."
Another sniper round fired. This time, they were both alerted to the general vicinity of the sniper's position, due to the direction of the sound. "Over there!" Cal exclaimed, pointing to their left.
"I'm working on it." Will was already searching the area with his scope. Their radios were alive with chatter, due to the confusion being caused by the enemy sniper.
"Guys, calm down. Keep the chatter to a minimum," Ozma's voice sounded over the radio. The response was prompt; the voices quickly filtered down to almost nothing, opening up the lines of communication to important information.
The enemy sniper fired again. "Dammit! Saotome's down!" someone exclaimed over the radio.
"Boom! Headshot!" an unfamiliar voice rang over the radio. No doubt, it was the enemy sniper taunting them over the general frequency.
"Ha ha ha! Nice!" several other unfamiliar voices sounded out. It seemed that the other team was ripe with confidence... and a bit of cockiness.
"Garrett!" Ozma's voice barked from their headsets, "You and Wagner are near that sniper. Why is he still marking my pilots?"
"Sorry, Sir! We're working on it right now!" Cal replied.
"Not good enough! We're down a whole squad now and we don't control the flag anymore! Someone get down there and make sure they don't get their hands on that thing again!"
"Yes, Sir!" came a response from one of the other pilots.
Cal sighed in frustration, "Do you see him yet?"
"No... but I think he's on that hill over there," Will replied. He focused his sights on the top of a hill in the distance.
"Why do you think he's over there?" Cal asked as he tried to see with his own unaided eyes.
"Because that's where I'd be if I was in that direction." Will adjusted his scope again just in time to see movement in the tall grass on the hill. From his point of view, he could see the reeds waving back and forth, as if they were being disturbed by something stronger than just the slight breeze blowing across the forest at the time. "Bingo!" he said as he saw the muzzle of a paintball rifle appear from the reeds. It appeared to be pointing in their general direction.
"See him?" Cal asked with exuberance.
"Yeah, hang on... Oh shit, I think he sees us..." Will quickly prepared to fire, unwilling to retreat to cover and blow this opportunity. He may not get another chance to counter-snipe the enemy marksman. An eerie silence fell over Cal and Will as their anticipation grew exponentially with each passing moment. Even the local paintball marker fire seemed to stop for that moment.
Will took in a small breath and waited a few seconds before firing. *POP!* Time seemed to slow down as he watched the paintball round sail across the course towards its intended target. A small cloud of gas puffed away from the enemy sniper's gun just as Will's round entered the vicinity, indicating that he had also fired upon them. With uncanny precision, Will's paintball round found its mark right on the front of the enemy sniper's helmet, covering most of his face with paint.
"Hah! Got him!" Will replied. He put his hand on his ear to open up the general frequency. "Boom! Headshot! Right between the eyes!" he gloated to the enemy sniper and team. Just as Will was getting into the moment, a high-velocity paintball round impacted right on a large stone that was partially concealing Will's head from the enemy sniper's fire. Some of the paint splattered over his head, coloring a nearly-perfect semicircle mark on the tree behind him.
"Holy shit, dude!" Cal exclaimed. He crawled over to wipe the paint off the rock with his hand and showed it to Will. "Two inches higher and he'd have nailed you right on the head!" he said with a laugh.
Will didn't find it funny at first, but then he let out an exasperated sigh before laughing in response. "Wow... That guy had some skills for a mere crew member. I wonder why he isn't a 25-G pilot too?" he pondered. He quickly shrugged at his own question and opened his radio back to team frequency. "Enemy sniper is down. We're going to move to his position to take his spot. We should be able to cover about half of the course from there. He was in grid C-5."
"Roger that, Garrett. Patterson, I want you to move up alongside him on the east side and you both can provide fire cover to the middle area while we progress into their territory," Ozma ordered.
"Yes sir. I'll set up camp in C-1," Patterson replied.
Will packed up his gear and stood up. He put his hand out to help Cal get up from his prone position. "Let's get going. I can't wait to get to that spot and see who else I can nail," he said with a mischievous grin. They both started walking to their intended coordinate as Will put his hand up to his head to open team communications again. "Nene, where are you guys?"
"We're just ahead of you in C-3. Meet us here and we can help you get on top of that hill," she responded.
"You read my mind," Will responded with another grin on his face. He put his hand down and looked at Cal. "See what I mean?"
Cal grumbled at the situation and looked away for a moment. As he looked back towards Will, he became alarmed at what he saw. "Look out!" he exclaimed, using his right hand to push Will backwards and out of the way. He quickly turned, knelt, and aimed his marker at an enemy target, opening fire with a couple of short bursts. The rounds met their target, only this 'target' wasn't quite what Cal had initially thought. He stared at it for a moment as he slowly dropped his marker to his side. "What the hell...?" he whined.
Will approached Cal and looked in his direction to see a peculiar sight. Cal had marked one of the flora growing in the area. Its appearance was oddly familiar. It was a simple trunk standing just shy of five feet tall. The trunk split into two towards the top and a long, cobalt-colored plume drooped from the top of both ends. "Oh, haha... yeah. I've been meaning to ask you if you'd seen these plants before. They're native to this planet, and I guess they tend to grow in this area. I've seen a few already out here."
"Geez, I thought it was Klan!" Cal remarked. He slowly got up from his knelt position and felt a bit awkward at having opened fire on the poor plant. "It looks just like her!"
"Yeah, I thought the same thing when I first saw one."
"I'm just going to have to be careful if I see any more of them out there..."
"A little jittery, are we?" Will sarcastically asked. He began to increase his walk to a jogging pace. "Let's get going. We need to get into position quickly."
Cal took a couple of moments to mentally compare the likenesses of that plant and Klan. Even nature seemed to be reminding him of her. After a bit of hesitation, he left to follow Will towards their new spot.
…
Several shapes and arrows were drawn into the dirt in the amidst of several members of the Blue team. Holding a stick in her hand, Klan rallied her troops using some crudely-drawn plans. "The flag should be here, so we're going to need to set up at a good vantage point to defend it from the Skull pilots. We've got snipers here and here, so there shouldn't be any problems with getting flanked. All we have to do is sit on the flag and let them try to take it from where it lies. Any questions?"
Brera happened to be walking by with a casual stroll. There was something about him that seemed to exude confidence. He knew what he was going to be doing and nobody was going to tell him how to do it.
"Sterne!" Klan called out to him, "I've got a strategy lined up here and we'll need your help."
He scoffed before he replied, "I already heard every word you said. That strategy isn't aggressive enough. I'm just going to head straight on in to their base after grabbing the flag. I'll put an end to this match much quicker that way."
"Wha―" Klan replied with frustration, "Don't get cocky! They're not gonna just roll over that easily! You need to wear them down!"
"You can do what you want, I'll do what I want, okay?"
She stomped over to where Brera was standing to confront him. Apparently, she doesn't take any kind of insolence too well, no matter who it comes from. "Don't underestimate them. They have some crafty and cunning pilots. They work well together as a team. I can vouch for my former subordinates, that's for sure."
Brera smirked and scoffed once again. "Bah, I've never had any problems with any of them in the past while in combat..." He took a couple of steps away from her, but immediately stopped walking. "Then again, it says a lot about them if you are that confident in their abilities."
She raised her eyebrow and folded her arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Um, I'm saying that 'maybe I should be careful' if you think that they're going to be a threat. It's just that I haven't had too much of a problem with the Skull pilots in the past, with the exception of Lee, Saotome... and you. But since you're on my team and Saotome is already out, I think the odds are well on our side."
Klan quickly calmed down, not really knowing how to take his response. "Oh... sorry..." She let out a nervous laugh, realizing that she was actually being complimented.
"Why the hostility, anyway?" Brera was a little surprised at her reaction, "Is it because I shot you down twice last year?"
It was obvious that he had hit the nail right on the head because she immediately got defensive, "Don't even start with that! I'd whoop your ass if we had to dogfight again!"
"Well, to be honest, the only chance that you'd have of beating me is if you used something other than that aging Rhea. For what it's worth, I could tell that its performance was holding you back."
She took in some breath for a rebuttal, but stopped herself from saying anything because she had expected him to take cheap shots at her. Her demeanor immediately turned more amicable. "Now, on that I can agree with you." She re-folded her arms and closed her eyes to gloat a little bit, "Let's just say that I have some new tricks up my sleeve. I just can't talk about them..."
"That's nice..." Brera nonchalantly replied. He turned away to look off in the distance. "That still doesn't make me change my mind about my strategy here, though."
"Fine! You go do your thing. Don't come complaining at me if you get hit."
"Don't worry about it. I'll see you back at the pavilion after I've captured the flag." Brera didn't stick around for any more chatter. He had a mission to complete and he wasn't planning on stopping for anyone or anything.
Klan turned back to the other team members who were still waiting for some sort of direction. "Okay, I guess we'll modify that plan a bit. We'll follow him, but keep our distance. If he succeeds, we win. If he doesn't, we can just fall back to my original plan: just let him get shot and we'll camp the flag where he drops it. It's a win-win situation, right?" She waited for everyone to agree and got several nods in reply. "Oh, by the way... if any of you see Wagner, let me know. I'd like to put him out of his misery myself, if possible."
…
The constant firing of the paintball markers off in the woods could easily be heard from the pavilion. A steady stream of crew members mixed with the occasional pilot was flowing in from down the hill. They all looked slightly dejected, having been eliminated from the match, but they were otherwise laughing and chatting with each other. They did have some stories to tell of what they managed to accomplish out on the paintball course.
Captain Wilder, having elected to not participate, seemed to be enjoying the match from the spectator's point of view. He sat at one of the tables near a monitor within the pavilion, sipping from a lowball glass. He was probably drinking whiskey, since his drink had a bit of a crystal-clear, amber hue. The ice cubes in his drink would clink against each other and against the glass every time he lifted it up to his mouth.
"Hey, Cap," Commander Ortiz approached him from behind, "Damn, they already started?"
Wilder turned around to see Stephen placing some of his personal belongings on one of the open tables. "We were wondering if you were gonna make it in time. Did you get everything together?"
"Right here," he responded while patting a small box which he had placed onto the table.
"Well, bring it here!"
Commander Ortiz walked to Captain Wilder to deliver the package, but stalled mid-stride when he noticed Wilder's obscure clothing.
"What?" The Captain asked, knowing full well what Ortiz was thinking of saying. It was almost as if he was enjoying watching the reactions from his subordinates upon seeing him dressed like a beach hobo.
"Nothing. Just wondering if you ever found that lost shaker of salt," Commander Ortiz said with a wry grin.
While still watching the monitor in front of him, Captain Wilder smiled at Ortiz's slight jab. "No sissy margaritas around here," he said while lifting his lowball glass in the air a bit, "This here is a man's drink."
"Ooh... where can I get this 'man's drink'?" Ortiz asked, looking left and right for some kind of beverage bar. He heard the sound of a glass being placed on the table right next to him and turned around to see Commander Choi cheerfully filling his request.
"I saw you come in and thought you might want some," she said, sitting down next to him and smiling at his reaction. She held a glass of her own in her hand.
"Thanks, Sam!" He seemed to wiggle his fingers on his hand before grasping the glass. He took a sip and put the glass down. "So, are you ready for the announcements?" he asked after swallowing his drink.
"Mmhm..." She had turned some of her focus towards the monitor showing the action going on in the paintball match.
Commander Ortiz slowly panned his view over the rest of the pavilion. There were still quite a few crew members and family who were not participating in the match, opting to just enjoy the picnic with good food and good company. "Where's Jen?" he casually asked.
Captain Wilder responded without uttering a word by using his finger to point her out on the monitors, even though he was holding his drink in his hand.
…
Entrenched in the bushes near one of the larger trees in the area, Commander Thompson and his new pilots patiently waited for the inevitable firefight. The flag laid about 50 feet away from them, clearly visible to anyone within a reasonable viewing distance. It looks like they might have the same plan in mind as Klan does.
"Anything yet?" Commander Thompson asked of his sniper.
"Nope, not a creature is stirring, Sir," Patterson replied. A blanketing silence fell over the four pilots; anticipation was all they could sense at the time. Ensign Patterson had perched himself on one of the low-reaching branches and behind the main trunk of the tree, giving him a good vantage point from which to pick off any incoming members of the Blue team. The distant paintball marker fire would occasionally grip his attention, but he would quickly turn back to his current focus: making sure that flag didn't go anywhere fast, unless it was one of his teammates on the grab. Despite his need to stay focused, he decided to open up a friendly discussion. "So, Commander... tell us a little bit about yourself. Now that you're one of us, we'd like to know a little bit about our new team leader and squadron XO."
The other two pilots chuckled to each other, signaling their agreement.
Commander Thompson hadn't expected to be asked this question at this moment, but he wanted to appear as open and amicable as possible. After all, these pilots were going to be covering his back whenever they were in combat. "Uh... heh heh. I don't know where I should start." He nervously chuckled before picking a topic at random. "Well, I spent almost a year flying in Diamond Force before transferring here. Going from a 171 to a 25 is going to be quite an experience, I gather."
"Ah yes... very nice. I have heard a lot of good stories about Diamond Force. You're going to fit in real well here. The 25 is a beauty, isn't she?" one of the pilots responded.
"Yeah. I've only been through the simulators so far. My first real flight is scheduled for tomorrow, so I am really looking forward to handling one of those babies myself."
"You won't be disappointed, Sir."
A moment of silence passed, giving Patterson a chance to change the subject somewhat. "What about family? I see you have a wedding band on your finger."
Commander Thompson responded to the question by looking at his hand for a moment before placing it back onto the stock of the paintball marker. "Well..." he trailed off, "She left me awhile back. I still wear it, anyway."
"Are you separated, then?"
"No, we got a divorce."
"Why do you still wear that ring, then?"
He took several moments, but eventually answered, "I don't know. I still love her, but... you know..." He looked up with a bright look on his face, "We have a little boy together, though!"
"Ah! Do you get to see him often?"
"Yeah. Ever since we got back from deployment, he's come to visit me every weekend. I can't believe how quickly he's growing up." He stopped talking for a moment to let the other pilots chuckle a bit at his fatherly attitude over his son. "What about you guys? I take it you don't have any kids?"
"Kids? Heck, I don't think I'll be getting married anytime soon!" Patterson replied. The other two pilots laughed in agreement.
Thompson chuckled at the response. "I'm sure that will change when you guys get older. I felt the same way when I was your age..."
"Not me! You won't see me tied down to a woman. I know where to find 'em when I need company!" one of the pilots declared.
"I'll be sure and tell your girlfriend you said that, dude," Patterson replied, "She'll be thrilled to hear it; I guarantee it."
Commander Thompson laughed at the pilot's mortified look.
"You wouldn't dare! If you snitch to her, I swear to God, I'll-"
"We got incoming!" Patterson quickly interrupted.
The other three pilots immediately quieted themselves down and prepared for some action. Commander Thompson quietly spoke to Patterson, "Who is it?"
"Umm... I see Margot. He's not even wearing a helmet to cover that huge hairdo of his. Not smart..." Ensign Patterson continued to peer through his rifle's scope to report on their identity. "There's Wentz. Ooh, and Lam Hoa... Hey there, pretty thing, come to Papa," he said out loud, calmly beckoning to Lam from so far away.
"Are you still pining for her? She's too smart for you. She'd never fall for you," one of the pilots chided.
"For your information, I only fancy her. There's a big difference," Patterson replied with a confident tone, "Besides... I could get her attention if I really wanted to."
"I'll believe it when I see it."
"Guys, focus," Commander Thompson interjected.
"Yeah, sorry about that. It looks like we've got the entire bridge crew, plus I recognize some of the hangar mechanics headed this way."
"Alright. Let's let them get close in so Patterson can pin them down. We're seriously outnumbered, so what we need to do is just hold our ground and inflict as much attrition as possible, okay guys?"
"Sounds like a plan!"
…
"What's he doing?" Lam seemed impatient and fidgety and expected a quick answer from Jen, who was crouched next to her. Jen simply patted the air with her hand, telling Lam to calm down and keep her voice down.
Ahead of them, Bobby carefully searched the area to identify any potential dangers. The distant paintball marker fire had mysteriously diminished, almost making things a little too quiet for comfort. After peering over a small embankment for a moment, he crouched down and spoke to his teammates over the headset. "I see the flag!" he said with some excitement in his voice, "I don't see anyone around, but be careful! This could be a trap." He then motioned for everyone to move closer. "Stay low!"
Groups of 3 or 4 players each would rush forward to the embankment, staggering their approach in a cautious manner. Such tactics should be expected of soldiers, regardless of their primary duties. Most of the group had gathered along the embankment, ready to make their next move.
"Okay, we just need one person to go grab the flag and the rest of us will cover you. Any volunteers?" Bobby asked of the group around him.
"I'll do it!" one of the crew members exclaimed as he stood up and immediately dashed towards the flag.
"Wait! Not so fast!" Bobby yelled, reaching his hand out in a futile attempt to stop his teammate from rushing towards the flag.
The moment the crew member reached the flag and bent down to retrieve it, all hell broke loose. The nearby bushes came to life with paintball marker fire from the members of Rabbit Team, who had patiently waited for the perfect time to strike. The eager crew member was hit several times, falling to the ground out of reflex. He yelled out in pain, reacting to the stinging sensation on his skin where he had been hit. It was probably the smart thing to do to just lay there and take cover, lest he be hit again. There was nothing he could do anymore, except watch the firefight from his prone position.
"It's an ambush!" Jen yelled out to her teammates. She, along with everyone else stayed on the embankment, hoping that the incline would give them the cover they needed.
"Just stay put and return fire!" Bobby barked.
"Where are they?" one of the nearby crew members yelled, looking around. There was a fair bit of confusion among the ranks, deeming Rabbit Team's ambush as quite effective. The exchange of marker fire made it difficult to pinpoint the exact location of their assailants. Streams of paintballs sailed through the air in seemingly random directions.
"They're in the bushes!" Bobby yelled, "You guys over there need to flank them or we're not going to end this anytime soon!" He motioned for a large portion of the group to follow the embankment around to the backside of Rabbit Team's entrenched position.
They acknowledged, sliding down the embankment a few feet and hopping to their feet. With a steady pace, they rushed to their assignments. They didn't get very far, however.
One of the pilots in Rabbit Team had positioned himself alongside the embankment to mow down the approaching players. It seemed that they had gone through every possible scenario to defend their positions, having the foresight to cover that attack approach with one of their own.
Bobby noticed the detachment's demise and grunted in frustration. "Dammit! They really have this flag covered. We might have to wait for our snipers to get into position."
"Agreed!" Jen noted out loud. She turned to the rest of her team members, "Just stay here and wait for reinforcements. As long as we're here, they can't take the flag. We should be safe from their fire for now."
Most of the team members retreated a bit to shield themselves from the marker fire, with a couple of them continuing to return fire just to keep the Rabbit pilots on their toes.
Lam was growing impatient and used her headset to communicate with the rest of the team. "Where are our snipers! We've got the flag in sight, but we need help picking off these damn pilots!"
Before she could get an answer, the teammate next to her took a high-velocity paintball round on his back. Fortunately he was wearing a protective vest, so it didn't hurt. He did, however, feel the force of the paintball. "Aw, dammit!" he whined, reaching for his back with one of his arms.
Suddenly, everyone nearby realized that they were in sight of an enemy sniper. They looked around to find the source, only to see another one of their teammates take a hit on the side of their helmet. "Sniper!" several of them simultaneously yelled. Just when they thought that they were going to be safe for awhile, their solace turned into panic once more.
Jen caught sight of a puff of gas from the large tree in the distance. The sniper was perched several yards above the ground, giving him perfect line of sight on their position. "He's in the tree!" she yelled, opening fire on him with her marker. Several others did the same, staying put on the ground, despite being vulnerable to the incoming fire.
Ensign Patterson didn't even flinch at the paintballs impacting on the tree trunk just in front of his face. He knew that it would take an extremely lucky shot to get hit, which allowed him to do his job unabated. Each shot from his rifle was followed by a reload, cocking the bolt backwards then forwards to put a new round in the marker's chamber.
Watching as their teammates fell one by one, Bobby had to admit the inevitable. "We're sitting ducks here! Retreat back to the tree line!" he barked.
With some hesitation, each team member got up from their position and sprinted towards the safety of the nearby woods. The smarter ones ran in a serpentine motion, making them harder to hit.
A few moments later, the remaining team members loosely gathered behind the cover of the trees and bushes, gasping and panting after having sprinted at their top speeds to avoid being tagged out. Most of them had their backs against a tree for cover. Jen leaned forward and looked to her left and then to her right. "Where's Bobby?"
"He didn't make it," one of the crew members responded with a somber tone and pointing off in the distance behind Jen.
She looked back to their old position, taking care not to reveal herself to the enemy sniper. She could see Bobby casually walking around the area, helping their teammates up from their prone positions and leading them off of the course. He seemed to be talking to the pilots in Rabbit Team nearby, probably making some snide comments about their strategy. He didn't seem to take losing very well.
"How many of us are there left?" she asked, counting each team member in her mind. "Six? That's all?" Their losses were a bit hard to take, seeing as how they had started out with so many in their group. There was no telling where and how many team members were left on their team in other areas on the course, but the fact that the radio chatter was down to a minimum didn't bode well for their chances.
Suddenly, the sound of running footsteps could be heard from the other side of some bushes nearby. Everyone near Jen pointed their markers in the direction of the sound, waiting for the eventual emergence. Fortunately, their goggles helped to highlight the newcomer with their team's color, avoiding any possible issues with friendly fire.
Brera dashed through the bushes and stopped in the middle of Jen's group, momentarily wondering why they were all taking cover in such a manner.
"Get down!" Jen yelled at him. "They've got a sniper out there and there's three of them covering him."
Brera, who wasn't breathing heavily in the slightest, casually crouched and smiled at Jen. "The flag's up there, isn't it?"
"Yes, and they decimated us when we tried to take it. They're dug in there real deep and we can't crack them open. Are you alone?"
Brera didn't answer initially. He walked over to one of the trees, taking cover behind it. He then quickly peered around the trunk to assess the situation. "I see there's four of them. Yeah, they're positioned pretty well, too. It's no wonder you guys had so much trouble." He had only taken a split second to look around the corner, probably using some sort of thermographic imaging mode afforded to him by his cybernetic implants.
Not knowing anything about Brera's past, Jen sat on the ground and looked at him with disbelief. "How could you see them so easily?"
One of her teammates leaned over to her to explain. More than likely, this person knew of Brera from contact with him during the Vajra War. "He's a refugee from the Galaxy colony, so he has implants," he said while pointing at his own head with his finger.
"Mhmm..." Brera grunted, "Don't worry, I'll get that flag for you guys and cap it too. Just stay out of my way." He took a step forward and stopped for a moment. "Oh, and I'm not quite alone. A bunch of your teammates will be here in a moment." He scampered off to parts unknown, choosing to disappear in the woods instead of running at Rabbit Team head-on.
Right on queue, a small contingent of Blue Team members emerged from the interior of the woods, with Klan leading the way. She stopped nearby and took a seat next to a large bush. She seemed to be slightly out of breath, having chased Brera all this way across the course. "Which way did he go?" she tersely asked. A couple of Jen's teammates silently pointed off in the woods with their markers. "Ah, screw it," she said with a frustrated sigh, "If he wants to get shot, that's his prerogative."
"Hey, Commander!" Jen greeted with as much amicability as she could muster, considering the circumstances that she was in.
Klan briefly looked at Jen out of reflex, but quickly looked away to hide her seemingly festering contempt for the Lieutenant. "Hi," she managed to utter. Klan sighed heavily and crawled over closer to Jen to find out what was going on. "What's the situation?"
"There's four of them up there guarding the flag. They have a sniper with them, too."
The mentioning of a sniper caused Klan to perk up a bit. "A sniper? Did you see who it was?"
"I don't know, Commander," Jen replied. She then smiled as she turned back towards Klan. "Why? Are you looking for Cal?"
Klan preceded her reply with a heavy sigh, "Yes... I'm looking for Cal." She noticeably rolled her eyes at the question.
"I saw you call him out right before we started," Jen said, "What's this obsession you have with him, anyways?" Her voice seemed to have a bit of animosity in it.
"Obsession?" Klan seemed to be offended by the word. "I am merely here to make sure that he gets put in his place. You can't allow him to get overconfident in himself or he gets too cocky." She felt certain that her answer was sufficient to explain her actions.
"Why is it your business what he does? You're not his commanding officer anymore. All you do is pick on him and make him feel like he's not good enough. Every time I've seen you around him, you're busting his chops about something else."
"You don't seem to understand, Lieutenant," Klan forcefully replied. She was doing her best to stay calm, but her abrasive nature kept trying to surface. "He's the kind of person who gets complacent if he's not properly motivated. I refuse to let him settle for anything less than what he's ultimately capable of. As a matter of fact, he actually appreciates what I do for him."
"How do you know that?"
"Because he tells me so all of the time! You, on the other hand, tend to want to constantly coddle him. He's a grown man. He doesn't need you pampering him every time he's feeling a little bit... off."
For some strange reason, the sudden sound of a screeching housecat could be heard from somewhere nearby. Both women stopped talking and looked towards the source of the sound, wondering why there was a cat in this part of the woods. They both quickly set their sights on one of the nearby crew members, who was standing a few feet away with an amused look on his face. "No catfighting, ladies!" he said, wearing a wry grin.
Jen immediately griped at him, still riled up from her "discussion" with Klan, "This is none of your business. Didn't your mother ever teach you that you should never get between two women when they're arguing?"
He didn't get a clue. He clawed at the air with his fingers curled in his hand and feigned a feline hiss, "Sssss!" Before he could laugh, several "POP!" sounds coincided with a sharp pain in his legs. He jumped a couple of inches into the air in a reaction from feeling a stinging sensation in several places on his body. "Ow!" He looked down to see that he had been hit a few times and looked back up to the source of the paint.
Klan's marker was aimed directly at him and she wore an annoyed look on her face.
"Thank you!" Jen responded, looking in Klan's direction. It seems that she was thinking the same exact thing, only Klan had moved a little faster.
"Aw great, now I'm out!" he complained.
*POP!*
Without delay, he was hit by another paintball from Klan's marker. "You were warned! Now scram, soldier!" she barked.
He clicked his tongue and grunted in frustration, taking very little time to start walking in the direction of the pavilion.
Jen watched him for a moment, making a mental note of how he looked like a beaten dog, walking away with his tail between his legs. She then turned back to Klan and sighed to release some of the tension that had been building up within her. "Look, I don't really know what goes on between you two. To be honest, he's never really mentioned anything to me about you. I guess if you look at it that way, he hasn't complained to me about you, so maybe you're right."
Upon hearing the fact that Cal never talked to Jen about her, Klan felt a little surprised on the inside. She began to wonder if there was something really going on between he and Jen, and unsuccessfully tried to shake the thought out of her mind. Was he hiding the details of a relationship with Jen from her? There were questions that needed to be answered. "So, why are you so protective of him?"
Jen turned away to look back up the hill where Rabbit Team and the flag probably still remained at that moment. "He's always been there for me when I needed someone to talk to. He has a way of making me feel better when I'm worried about something. I just want to be able to return the favor when I can. Right now... he's not his normal self. Something's bugging him."
"Do you know what it is?" Klan already kinda knew, but maybe Jen would be able to shed a little light on what's going on with Cal.
"Yeah. I don't know who it was, but some bitch he'd been crushing on turned him down."
For obvious reasons, Klan felt rage building up over Jen's colorful description. Using every ounce of self-control, she kept the conversation moving on. "Is that what he told you?" A forceful tone was eking its way out with her voice.
"Well, not in those words, no. As a matter of fact, he didn't have anything negative to say about her. He just wouldn't go into any details about it with me. I just think that anyone who turns him down is a dumb broad and doesn't deserve him anyways..." Jen laughed at her own remarks, completely unaware of whom she was referring.
By now, Klan could only keep her teeth clenched. She spoke through her teeth, trying hard not to get upset at Jen, "Well, maybe she had good reasons, whoever it was..."
"I... would love to hear them, if I can ever get Cal to open up about it. I could always use a good laugh!" she replied with a chuckle. "Guys like him don't come around too often. If I ever got the chance again, I wouldn't pass him up, that's for sure."
In the distance, a short burst of paintball marker fire sounded off, causing Jen to look off in that direction. The team frequency opened up with Brera's voice, "Bingo! I got the sniper. You guys can move up now. Keep the rest of them distracted so I can take them out!"
As if the conversation meant almost nothing to her, Jen reacted to the news with vigor. "Alright! You heard him!" she yelled at her teammates sprawled out in the woods nearby. Before jetting up the hill, she gave Klan a quick and innocent glance to acknowledge the end of their conversation.
Klan simply stood there, watching everyone else scale the small hill. There was no doubt that something was causing her to hesitate. Once everyone had taken up prone positions at the top of the hill, she put on a determined look on her face and stomped through the tall grass towards the rest of her teammates.
Several members of the Blue team laid down just before the top of the hill, engaging the remaining members of Rabbit Team from a distance. Meanwhile, Brera continued to work his magic behind their defensive line, causing the pilots to frantically yell at each other. "Agh! I'm hit!" "Where the hell is he?"
Jen assumed the role of field commander, taking refuge behind the rest of her teammates a bit of a ways down the hill. She stayed crouched in the grass, keeping watch for any possible enemy flankers. "Just keep pouring it on, guys! Make sure you don't get hit!" Although she was watching to the sides for attackers, she neglected to watch her back, assuming that it was rather safe. Perhaps this wasn't the wisest of choices.
The muzzle of a paintball marker appeared not but a couple of feet behind her head. The marker's wielder aimed right at the back of Jen's head, but seemed to hesitate firing for some reason. Klan stood behind Jen, contemplating the possibilities of her impending decision. She squeezed her hand even tighter around the gun's grip, causing her finger to pull back on the trigger by just a hair. It was almost as if she was an assassin, determined to exact her vengeance on the guilty party. "If you think I'm just going to let you win the game, you've got another thing coming," she said in her mind towards Jen.
Right in front of Klan's eyes, a paintball round impacted on Jen's helmet. Its momentum caused Jen's head to rock in the same direction as her neck slowly absorbed the force. Klan pulled her marker back towards her own body, surprised at the appearance of the paint. She quickly wondered if she had, in fact, fired, looking at the muzzle end of her marker. She quickly dismissed the possibility.
Jen reached up and wiped the paint off of her helmet to verify that she'd been hit. After looking at her hand, she turned backwards and looked at Klan with horror. "Did- Did you just shoot me?" she demanded with a sense of shock in her voice.
"No!" Klan barked back, "I didn't even pull my trigger, I mean-"
Her sentence was cut off by the near-miss of another paintball round. This one sailed by right in front of her face, alerting her to the direction from which the inbound fire was coming. She then dashed back towards the tall grass and the cover of the nearby trees yelling "Sniper!" out loud to alert her teammates.
Jen stood there for a moment, unsure of what it was that Klan was doing directly behind her. She had no choice but to shrug it off and casually walk back to the pavilion. Unfortunately, the rest of her teammates didn't hear Klan's warning and remained in their current exposed positions, still engaging the remaining pilots of Rabbit Team in the brush nearby. Since she had been hit, Jen was not supposed to say anything to them and she ended up leaving the area without anyone knowing what had just happened.
Fearing for her well-being, Klan decided to dive into the tall grass to conceal her position from the sniper. She took a few precious moments to gather her thoughts so she could formulate a plan. "That was where our sniper was," she said to herself, "That means Will took our sniper out and took his spot. Three guesses as to who is with him..." A smile crept across her face as she prepared to make her move. Counting to three, she jumped back up on her feet and dashed towards the safety of the trees. Sure enough, another paintball round narrowly missed her again, impacting on the trunk of the first tree that she passed by from behind.
A/N: This is just a reminder for those of you who chose to wait until after you read this chapter to read the new prologue... :D
