Author's Note: Darth Real Life managed to run me over last week and made me miss my usual update time. A big thank you to all my readers for their patience and to make up for the one I missed, here are two chapters for the price of one.

Boredom

"The Seps should be here by now."

Sprawled atop a stack of ammo crates, Fister rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

Fince threw the fire support trooper a quizzical look. "I'm a private, Fister. You know that."

Was there no end to this agony?

Rolling to his side, Fister glared first at the oblivious Fince, then at Notch, sitting next to his brother and quietly cleaning his blaster. Again! All they'd been doing for the past four days was cleaning their kit and waiting for the Seps to hit dirtside. And it was getting on Fister's nerves.

"Notch, can't you shut him up? Or at least requisition a brain for him?"

Leaning against an opposite crate, Ezec looked up from the ration bar he'd been contemplating with his usual dour expression. "Leave Fince alone, Fister. He's not saying anything that isn't true."

"Is that an order, Sarge?" he asked sarcastically.

Sitting at the foot of the crates, Carry and Saw exchanged a knowing look. Here he goes again, that look said and, wisely, Saw turned his attention back to his medpack. Like the rest of them, he'd been checking and rechecking his gear ever since base camp and the FAS - the First Aid Station - had been setup. Elix, Flash and the Attack Dogs had been proud at first of the speed with which they'd prepped the outpost. That pride, though, had quickly soured once the troopers had realized that though they were ready for the Seps, the Seps weren't ready for them.

They were coming; Fleet HQ had promised them that. But Blazer had beaten the Seppies to the goal by some stretch, leaving the troopers with little to do but wait and calibrate their Deeces - literally, rather than euphemistically - while boredom grew rampant throughout the companies.

Carry couldn't quite leave well enough alone. "Uhhh." Craning his neck, he winked at Ezec, who, true to form, totally ignored the gesture. "Big words from the tiny private. You gonna let him get away with that, Sarge?"

Fister tried to kick at the heavy gunner. "You stay the fek out of this, di'kut."

"Don't let Captain Kase hear you talking like that." Satisfied that his kit was still in order - as it had been an hour ago - Saw buckled the flaps of his medpack down tight.

"Ahhh, let him talk, Saw," Carry said, jovially elbowing the medic. "Who knows, maybe he likes KP duty."

It was Mekk's turn to chime in. Sitting to Ezec's feet with a tray balanced on his knees, the trooper regarded them all with typical perpetual perplexity. "Does anyone actually like KP duty?"

Fister couldn't let the challenge pass. Sitting upright on the crate, he jutted his chin out at Carry. "You think I'm scared of the captain? I talk however I want to and he can just bend over and kiss..."

Having been silent thus far, Notch suddenly looked up from his blaster and squared his shoulders. "Captain Kase."

Fister whirled around, almost falling off of his improvised bed of crates, one hand coming up to frantically salute...empty air.

The rest of the group exploded into laughter. Even dour Ezec managed to crack a smile, though on him, it very much looked like a rock-face splitting in two.

Trying to recover his poise, Fister turned on his fellow troopers, cheeks as red as the streaks running through his black hair. If it had been possible, he would have thrown himself on the mercy of the nearest clanker, rather than face the ridicule, but he wasn't about to let a joke at his expense go unchallenged.

"Very. Funny," he hissed.

Carry, never one to be impressed by anything, even the wrath of a trooper with access to the really big guns, only responded with an ever-widening grin. "Hey, I was entertained."

More chuckles from the others.

Fister was growing flustered now, trying to hold on to his dignity and not throttle Carry.

No doubt reading the intent on his face, Ezec leaned over and rapped a knuckle against Fister's shoulder bell. "You think cursing is going to get you into trouble? Just wait until the captain or the commander catch you fighting."

"Isn't that how we settle things these days?" Fister shot back. He pushed Ezec's hand back, though silently, he was grateful to the sergeant for changing the topic. "The commander certainly beat the haran out of Whynge with Commander O'sic's and General Arhen's blessing."

"And you have neither," Saw pointed out. "Ezec's right, Fister, so just drop it." He smacked a still grinning Carry upside the head. "That goes for you, too."

"Can I help it that I have all this energy to spare?" Carry was all wide-eyed innocence.

Growling, Fister flopped back atop the crates. "I wish the clankers would just get here already."

"Maybe then you'll stop your bitching," Notch muttered, so low that only Fince heard, who shot his brother a startled look at the profanity.

"Why don't you go calibrate your Deece?" Carry suggested, adding a wink that fooled no one. "That should take some of the pressure off and occupy idle...Ow."

Saw, in his capacity as medic, had administered another head-slap.

Fister wasn't listening, though. Idly running his tongue over his teeth, watching the clouds pass, he suddenly began to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Mekk immediately wanted to know. He'd finished the brown substance on his tray - either meat or some sort of protein pudding, no one could quite tell - and was running a piece of ration bar Ezec had handed him over the greasy remains.

"Speaking of the local brass," Fister's lips worked furiously as he tried to keep a straight face, "think the general has any experience in calibrating Deeces?"

Ezec shook his head sadly and turned away, while Carry guffawed and the others groaned.

Only Fince looked confused by the comment. "The general's a Jedi," he pointed out. "He carries a lightsaber, not a blaster."

At this, even Notch shot his brother a slightly pitying look.

Overwhelmed by the intolerable nature of his existence, Fister thunked his head against the crate, hoping to induce unconsciousness until the tinnies could save him from this purgatory. "Captain Obvious strikes again. Just tell him to shut up, Notch."

"He is right, though," Ezec felt obliged to point out.

Saw sighed and began sorting through his medical equipment once more. Here we go again. Again.