Chapter 18
By the time Tyr contacted Kevin over the suit comms in regards to coming back to the Neema for a short shove-off with the admiral, the human found that he had yet to watch a single vid. He literally spent a few hours browsing the media selection already available in the Kellius' database and getting a feel for how it worked. He was so zoned out in such a task that he didn't even notice to lack of bangs and clangs on the hull. Normally he would consider sitting in front of a vid screen that didn't give him target details a gross waste of time, but since all the major areas of the ship were being worked on with tools he'd never even seen before, there was little else to do but exactly that – waste time. He had to enjoy sitting on that long couch sooner or later, lest it be a waste of space in his eyes. He didn't exactly plan on inviting guests up into his quarters, contrary to what Linus Werner probably intended when he was around.
Relieved that there was something to do again, Kevin stretched and shut the media system down. He promptly stood and headed out to the airlock where he expected to meet his new squadmates. Other than the usual pair of marines guarding the exit to the airlock, however, there was no one to be seen. This short lived mystery was soon solved when he spotted them through a window on the Neema outside the airlock hallway out the bridge viewports. They were clustered together, and there were a few others in the windowed hall as well. Kevin huffed at being the last one to the party again and made his way out to the Neema's maintenance bay six entry.
Upon catching up with the rest of the motley crew, he saw why they were all clustered together. Admiral Han'Gerrel was already here talking with them. That guy certainly got around. Said admiral quickly took notice of Kevin and waved him over to join the others.
"Sorry I'm late," Kevin half-heartedly said.
"No worries, kid," stated the admiral. "This is just an informal goodbye meeting, I guess you could say. No big crowds or long-winded announcements."
"Thank God," Kevin said. Everyone laughed.
Han'Gerrel then continued. "Aside from wishing you all well and saying goodbye, I wanted to present something to you all. I contacted what few remaining decedents of the old Xelvas'taersh squads were here on the Neema for some information and I had something made for each of you."
The admiral signaled to a quarian down the hall and he obediently grabbed a case from behind a crate. The young quarian boy, who's suit looked as plain as Kevin's but smaller, carefully kept the wide, flat, metal case horizontal as if he were transporting extremely fragile materials. When he arrived, he popped a clip on the end closest to the marines and it opened with a quick jump, nearly loosing itself from the boy's hands. After a quick balance correction, the young man held it still enough for everyone to get a look.
Inside the case was a set of nine identical medallions. The shape of the well polished chrome on black symbol was unfamiliar to Kevin, but interesting nonetheless. It resembled a T who's center column drastically flared out towards the bottom until it cut off. The left and right 'overhangs' of the T protruded outwards enough to match the flared base at it's widest point, but sharply angled down. About halfway down the symbol, the dropping overhangs angled inward again, coming to a sharp point at a lower forty-five degree angle, as if pointing out at the flaring center column. On the top of the thick shape, dead center between the left and right outcroppings was a long four-sided diamond on it's side. It protruded ever so slightly from the otherwise flat design.
The metal symbol wasn't very large. It was small enough to fit in someone's hand, but big enough to keep the holder from completely closing a fist around it. Attached to each medallion was a long, sturdy-looking strap. It was deep crimson detailed with black swirls and other abstract designs. It was embroidered in such a way that even though there were many individual black designs along the length of it, it was all connected and seemed to flow from one end to the other.
"What are these?" Kar innocently asked.
"These are-" Han'Gerrel started.
"These are the icons the members of Xelvas'taersh wore," Bela pointed out excitedly. "Well, remade, obviously."
"Yes," Han said after a brief chuckle at Bela's enthusiasm. "As far as we know, each Xelvas'taersh member wore one of these on their person while on a mission. Since quarians were the only ones at large who knew their purpose, it served as a easily identifiable yet subtle means to let other quarians know that that individual is probably doing something more important and should be assisted discreetly."
"I imagine that's exaggerated to some extent, but I see where you were going with this, admiral," captain Kortel noted. "Above all, it denoted a level of ever-ready service to the quarian people. They were probably worn like military rank badges or accomplishment medals."
"Close, Siri, but not quite" the admiral replied. "Some old data suggests that the way they were worn was unique to each individual. They weren't 'officially' military, so finding ways to dissuade people who saw the symbols from thinking that became common practice. Being inconsistent with how or where they wore it was the easiest way. Or so the information says."
"Doubt we'll have to worry about that," Riik spat. "Everyone already has their own stigmas about quarians these days."
"True enough," Kevin said. "The only ones who might recognize it would be a rare few older asari. Don't know about you guys, but the only matriarch I've ever seen more than once was the one at one of the Illium bars. Can't think of her name for the life of me. . ."
When Kevin stepped forward with the others to grab his, he realized that the strap was much longer than he thought. Held in a single dangling loop, it was long enough to be held above the head and still touch the floor.
"Wow, that's long," Ralik commented.
"That's so each of you can determine your own unique way to display it," Han'Gerrel explained. "The threads will cauterize together with minimal visual disruption if seared with a cutting laser, so you can make it whatever length you see fit."
"Convenient," Tosh said, already distracted with how he might don his own.
"One last detail. Tyr, the armor pieces you requisitioned were loaded into the bay just a few minutes before I got here. There are also extra pieces if you find yours in disrepair."
Tyr nodded and made a note on his omni-tool to check the bay and inventory it to make sure it ended up where he had designated.
"Well, it seems that time has come," Siri said, half relieved and half heavyhearted.
"Seems that way, doesn't it?" agreed Han. "You kids be safe out there. You'll have better luck getting deeper into geth space with a smaller ship, but I still can't shake off the worry of you getting taken down again."
"Maybe an overly-helpful turian will drop by and pick us up if we do," Kevin joked.
Han'Gerrel laughed, but his somber tone went undisturbed. "I want a full report from all of you upon your return. Understood?"
"Yes sir," everyone replied at once, each signing the unwritten contract to return in one piece.
"And be sure to destroy plenty of synthetics on your way out there," he added.
"Don't worry, admiral," Siri assured, cracking her knuckles. "They have it coming."
Each of the quarians saluted the admiral while Kevin and Ralik used their own race's military salute. It seemed the best way to say goodbye to the wonderfully normal high ranking quarian military man. Goodbye didn't feel right, as if they were admitting that they had no intention of coming back. Han'Gerrel saluted back and started back down the hall with his young companion.
"Well?" Siri said to the squad. "You know what comes next. Back on the ship!"
It was an order, but it was in no way a harsh tone. In fact, Kevin could swear that captain Kortel was beaming with pride and delight right now. A rare moment, to be sure.
"Yes ma'am!" the squad responded as they all simultaneously turned one hundred and eighty degrees to head towards the airlock.
Back on the newly outfitted and restocked Kellius, everyone assembled in the briefing room. The table was still busted up on one side, scarred and charred from the grenade that went off in the Cerberus agent's hand. Kevin figured it would be repaired sooner or later, but he actually liked it this way. It gave the room some character. It made it look a little less like a rich man's conference room and a bit more like a front lines command center. Sure that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it still felt more comfortable. More than enough of the table remained for it to still be usable, so it wasn't exactly a deformed obstacle either.
Siri, Kevin, Ralik and Arla all moved into the bridge at once, nearly crowding the small, glowing room. The Kellius was still held in place in the maintenance bay, but all of the workers and equipment had since vacated the bay. Kevin, Ralik and Siri each looked amongst each other to silently decide who would be the lucky person to bring the ship out of the bay and onto the first Xelvas'taersh mission since the geth rebellions. After a moment of silence, Kevin called out to someone hiding back in the briefing room without turning his head.
"Kar'Welkas! C'mere a minute."
The young marine jogged into the edge of the bridge, not wanting to push passed his superior ranked comrades. "Yes, I'm here. What do you need, Kevin?"
Arla and Ralik, who were between Kevin and Kar, stepped aside to let Kevin walk back to his addressee. Kevin slapped his right hand down on Kar's left shoulder then let it rest there as he guided Kar up front.
"So we've come to an executive decision regarding where your station is going to be. I just want to make sure you're up for it. After all, sitting down in a chair all day staring at helmsman's consoles can be taxing work."
Kevin used his free hand to motion towards the currently empty forward pilot's chair. He couldn't see it, but he was sure that a broad smile crossed Kar's face just then.
"Up for it?" Kar said, not really a question. "You have no idea."
"Then to your station, helmsman Kar'Welkas," ordered the captain. "We have a lot to do, and we can't do it sitting in the maintenance bay."
"Yes ma'am!" Kar said, full of exuberance. He sat down in the pilot's chair, adjusted the seat posture, cracked his six knuckles and went right to work.
Firstly, he sent off the signal to the Neema to disengage the magnetic locks. The ship jostled, then was let free to float on its own. Kar activated the drive core and engines, waited for a quick system check and then began to back out of the bay and into the crowded open space amongst the other flotilla ships. Once a safe minimum distance from the Neema had been achieved, Kar threw on the main thrusters and the Kellius accelerated away from the hulking quarian ship. After a short session of weaving through the mildly dense collection of vessels varying greatly in size, the full freedom of open space was revealed to them. All of this was done with a fluidity that surprised Kevin, and probably Ralik as well.
"Dholen system in the Far Rim, right?" Kar asked.
"That's the one," Kevin replied. He gave Kar another light slap on the shoulder and he turned away from the content new pilot to head into the briefing room.
"Course plotted. First relay is fifteen minutes out."
"Since we used the same data as them to get there, the post-Dholen FTL trajectories and stops are probably in the same place," Siri mentioned to Kar.
"Actually," Ralik haughtily piped in, "I made some adjustments to the course to take into account our current ship configuration. Less stops and shaves some time off of the overall trip."
"I'll keep an eye on it," Kar confirmed, madly going through the consoles.
"Try not to have too much fun up here, Welkas," Siri chuckled.
"Yes ma'am," Kar replied absentmindedly.
All but the new pilot filed out of the bridge following shortly after Kevin. Back in the briefing room, everyone was just sort of meandering about, waiting for the word from their captain that they were dismissed.
"So what do we do for now?" asked Bela.
"Tighten up ship functions, clean up engine performance, that sort of thing. That's my guess, anyhow," Tosh said.
"With all due respect captain," Tyr said, lifting a hand wearily. "I'd like to get some shut-eye. It's been a while since I've had some rack time."
Several others nodded in agreement. Bela, however, did not.
"Sleep? Sleep is for dead people."
"Is that so?" the captain wondered aloud. "Alright then, Merni, you just inherited Tyr's job of getting Folner into his new plates."
"Pssh. Done."
"I'm not going to have to carry you back to the crew quarters, am I?" Kevin asked, amused.
"Are we going to have another intense dance-off?" She snapped back.
"Alright, alright," Kevin said with a chuckle under his breath.
"The armor's in crate four in cluster twelve," Tyr informed as he tapped on his omni-tool. "You should have the layout transferred to your omni-tool now. You too, Kevin."
Bela and Kevin nodded.
"Alright team, time for some sleep. We've got a big mission ahead of us." The captain waved everyone on ahead and the squad left the room.
"I'll be in engineering," stated Ralik. "Lab's just about bug-free, now. I should be able to start playing with it soon."
"And I'm going to go unpack this crap," Bela said as she started after Ralik and the others.
Kevin noticed that Siri wasn't right behind them. "I'll meet you down there in a few minutes, Bela."
Bela turned her head towards Kevin as she passed through the open doors to the hall and nodded.
When the door shut behind her, Kevin looked over to his captain. His captain. He was back under someone's command. It wasn't the aspect of being under someone else's authority that caused him to leave the military in the past, it was all the bad decisions and orders they were forced to follow and the political crap that came with them that bugged him. At least with this squad he wasn't likely to deal with that. This team was about getting things done, not about worrying whether or not some political faction was going give so and so a bad rap because of something they did on the job.
"Feeling smug, Folner?" Siri suddenly asked.
"What makes you think I feel smug about anything?"
"Captain's intuition, remember?"
"That or you're just really good at guessing."
Kevin paused a moment to examine what he was really feeling. Oddly enough, he had plenty of things to be smug about, even if 'feeling smug' wasn't his cup of tea. Between successfully bringing back a small group of quarians from the brink of destruction who just happened to be out doing the same thing he was, his casual chats with a quarian admiral and being assigned to a quarian version of the Alliance's Corsairs – yeah, he was feeling a tad smug. Leave it to Siri to pick out such small details, even when she couldn't see his face anymore.
"Yeah, I suppose so. Either that or I'm just still trying to absorb all the events from the past few days."
"It certainly has been quite a ride," she said as she leaned back against the briefing table. "I'm guessing that you feel-"
"Feel like this is only the very start?" Kevin finished. "Oh definitely. For starters, we haven't even had to deal with that geth fleet lingering around the relay, much less find out what's on the far side."
"Yes, the geth. . ." Siri seemed to zone out for a moment, as if she suddenly went deep into thought.
Kevin raised a brow at this. He had never seen Siri so distracted before. He went out on a limb to guess the reason behind it.
"Siri, does the fate of the Forverna still trouble you?"
The captain looked up from her trance and turned her head to meet Kevin's gaze. It seemed for once that Kevin had given her an unsettling taste of her own intuitive medicine.
"Honestly? Yes. It does. Quarians are very social creatures, Kevin. It still feels like I bear a void where all that interaction used to be."
"You still have a team."
"I do, and I'm grateful for that. But. . . How do I put it so that you'll understand?"
"That may not be as hard as you think."
"Imagine you lived somewhere, and you had a community. . ."
"A large tight knit community where you knew everyone by name? Talked to on a regular basis? Got to know on a personal level? I've never experienced it first hand, but I understand what you mean. It's like having a huge house full of family, and suddenly most of the family is missing."
Siri gave Kevin a most curious stare, and Kevin knew why. It was unusual for someone to so quickly grasp the concept of quarian social life, so how did this human do it? If he never experienced it himself, how was he able to mentally relate?
". . . Yes. Something like that. I'd rather not beat a dead pyjack. It's in the past and I should let it rest."
"Then why can't you?" Kevin asked.
"Because I see us heading down the exact same path that led to those events. I know most of the parameters have changed, but you can't blame me for being a bit cautious."
"Sure I can, because I know you're held together better than that," Kevin said, his voice becoming more stern. "You're not some cheap dime a dozen captain held together by tape and sticks. If you were, then the entire crew of the Forverna would be lost right now and I'd have had nothing to bring back to the Migrant Fleet but some scraps of metal and broken suit visors."
"And you might be dead."
"And I might be dead."
Siri looked down and off to the side as she pondered Kevin's words. "I'd be lying if I said that no one spoke to me like that before."
"And did it work then?"
". . . No."
"How about now?"
Siri let loose an unexpected chuckle. "I'd also be lying if I said 'no' again." There was a pause. "It's not something so simple as to just put down and walk away from, but I thank you for your encouraging words. They've helped, trust me."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Kevin asked, tone quieter.
"I'm not looking for pity or sympathy. Just resolution."
"So that's what you meant when you said that the geth have it coming. Hell hath no fury. . . "
"What?" Siri asked in response to Kevin's last few words.
"Oh nothing. Just reminding myself of something is all."
The room fell silent as the two chatterboxes finally ran out of things to say. Kevin felt eyes on him, and since Siri was still looking off to the side, it wasn't hers. He looked towards the bridge and he noticed Kar staring at them from over the back of the pilot's chair. It was the perfect batter for an instant awkward moment.
Kevin shifted in place and quickly found a way out. "Look, you're tired as heck, and you've been overworking yourself for hours. Get some sleep and call me in the morning."
"Call you in the morning?" she asked with wary curiosity.
"Sorry, human expression. It refers to when a physician prescribes a cure for something, asks the patient to take it sleep through the night and then have them report to the doctor how they feel the next morning."
"Right. Sleep."
"Get outta here."
It was likely the admission of how tired she was that tipped her body off to actually feeling as tired as she should have. She wobbled her way out of the briefing room, stopping briefly in the doorway with her hand against the frame to support her unstable weight. She didn't turn her head or body, but simply stood there for a moment.
"Thanks."
"You can thank me by getting some rest," Kevin said, edging her along without as much restraint.
She nodded at the empty hallway and finally continued on through to the stairs to the second deck. The door shut behind her and Kevin looked back to Kar in the bridge. Kar was still looking at him, but quickly turned around to face the consoles again when he realized the only other person in the room was looking back at him.
"Welkas, you too. Get some rest once you've laid down the course to the first stop after Dholen, alright? I don't need any more zombies walking around the Kellius."
"Understood," was his simple reply from the bridge.
Something clicked in Kevin's head right then, and he suddenly bolted for the stairs. He had completely forgotten about Bela, who was probably tapping her foot impatiently as she sat there waiting for him to arrive. When he reached the cargo deck, he quickly slowed his movement to that of a casual stroll so that he didn't arouse suspicion of his forgetfulness. When he found Bela, she wasn't waiting impatiently. On the contrary, she was still working to unpack the armor pieces slated for Kevin's suit. She only had half of it unpacked because the crate she was unloading it from was stacked on top of another, and the opening was just barely out of standing arm's reach. She had climbed up, perched herself between the open crate and a nearby stack and was tossing the pieces down to the floor. Each time a metal clang echoed throughout the cargo bay, Kevin felt himself cringe. His new shiny armor was going to have battle scars before he even put it on.
"Scuffing up my new armor. Nice," commented Kevin.
"Eh, it'll buff out," Bela replied as she tossed another piece down. Kevin caught this one after a small sprint.
"But, but. . . Shiny!" Kevin replied, staring at his quarian look-alike in the reflection of the polished pauldron. Another armor piece came down at him and he used his second hand to grab it.
"Stupid Tyr putting the stupid armor high up on top of other stupid crates. He knows I'm the shortest one. I swear he planned this all along." She went back to rummaging through the open container.
This was the first time since they met that Kevin had ever seen Bela in any sort of bad mood. Strangely, he couldn't help but think that Bela's venting frustration was nothing short of adorable. He felt a smile of amusement crawl across his face
"If he makes one more crack about my height. . . I'll. . . Augh! I'll stuff him into my rocket launcher, find the nearest geth node and launch him into it! I just have to wonder which will explode first!"
"Deep breaths there, killer. Don't let that short temper win you over." Kevin said in a halfhearted attempt to calm her down.
"Stooooop making jokes about my height!" she yelled.
Kevin paused a moment, replayed his own words in his head and figured out what she meant. Hah. Short temper.
"Wow, I didn't even think of that. That's even funnier now that I see it." Kevin was on the verge of letting chuckles and nose-born laughs out.
Bela wasn't quite as amused, though. She stopped and turned most of her body to give Kevin a 'death stare'. It probably wasn't as effective as she likely hoped. Kevin didn't know if that was because her anger was too lovable or if she was just really bad at giving stares of doom. After a brief moment of silent stares between them, Bela threw the armor piece she had just retrieved at Kevin. It wasn't a full force throw, but more along the lines of a woman who punches her male companion in the arm when he says something stupid. Kevin, hands full, held up the two armor pieces he had in his hand at the last second and the incoming projectile ricocheted loudly off of them before coming to two bounce and slide stop behind him. Kevin's smile never left his face.
"Hey, whoa! Getting a litt- Getting a bit violent, aren't we?" Kevin asked as he watched Bela hop down and approach him.
She got right up in his face, trying again to give him the death stare. She probably figured it would prove more effective this way, but the fact that she had to look up at him while making such stares completely nullified the threatening effect.
Kevin, trying his best now to not make things worse with laughter, pointed at the crate with false timidness. "Erm, what about the rest of the pieces of armor?"
"That was the last one," she said, perhaps a bit too quickly.
"Right, so. . ."
"Just go stand over by the pile. Augh." Bela could no longer keep up her angry face, and she marched off to pick up the piece that she had thrown before she made it too obvious.
With a smirk at himself, Kevin moseyed on over to the loose pile of ablative armor pieces where he waited for Bela to get started. He separated them neatly by shape as she was on her way back to him.
"Stand straight, arms out," Bela ordered as she picked up a second armor piece identical to the one she had to retrieve.
"Yes ma'am," Kevin said with a sloppy salute.
There were twelve pieces of armor altogether – two for each shoulder, two for the forearms, two for the upper arms, two large multi-piece halves for the torso, two for the thighs and two for the legs below the knees. That meant he could only use ten of them, since the two for the lower legs wouldn't fit on top of the hardsuit armor he already had at the knees and down. The torso halves weren't solid – they had multiple pieces to allow a fairly large range of flexibility without leaving too much exposed – and they had heavy duty clips that came together under the opposite piece. There were covered release buttons in the event that he needed to remove the armor.
Bela started with the forearm pieces. She took Kevin's arm in one hand and carefully laid the armor piece on it. She moved it around ever so slightly, trying to find a sort of sweet spot. When she found it, the armor clicked once, slid a tad towards his hand and locked firmly into place. Bela didn't show any form of victory or self-accomplishment – apparently this was a frequent and mundane task. Without a pause, she picked up the second forearm piece and performed the same brief process a second time.
When she finished with the second arm, Kevin gave the armor pieces a tug in several directions to test how well it stayed in place. It wouldn't even budge. At least he wouldn't have to worry about any of it falling off while he was under fire. He also noticed that the armor was precisely designed not to obstruct the several pockets lining what was now considered the underside of his forearm.
"Hold still!" Bela said, voice raised. She didn't seem to be as broken up as she was a moment ago. Perhaps she wasn't one to naturally stay angry.
"Sorry, sorry. Old habit. I always have to fiddle with my new duds."
"Fiddle with it afterwards. I at least want to get them all on before we start testing for loose ones."
Kevin resumed his stiff stance while Bela picked up an upper arm piece and stuck it on. After the upper arms came the pauldrons.
"So are you always self-conscious about your height?" Kevin asked, breaking the relative silence.
"It's the only flaw of my otherwise perrrrfect body," she replied in an overly-confident tone.
"How do you know?"
"Shh shh shh. I'm working."
Each piece so far had a similar attachment method. It was the torso pieces that were the first to differ from this quick yet menial sequence. She first attached them together at the chest by loose joints. Now a single piece that almost appeared to be falling apart, she placed the torso armor on Kevin's chest. She moved them around until they slid in place, but they didn't lock like the others. She pressed down and pushed the two halves across his chest until they met flush down the center with a click. Around to his back now, Bela pushed the halves together in the back until they also came together with a click – skipping the locking in place part.
With the torso armor in place, Kevin leaned left and right, forward and backward to get a feel for it while Bela grabbed the thigh pieces. He found that the armor fit very snug against his suit and still allowed some freedom of movement. They weren't heavy, either. A plus in his eyes. He liked the solid feel of his old hardsuit compared to these sparsely placed pieces, but he liked the greater movement better.
He froze back up when Bela knelt down to attach the next pieces, not wanting to be reprimanded again. The thigh pieces curved around the outside of his thighs, leaving the inside unarmored. This was good, as having a separate armor piece cover the inside of one's thigh tended to cause chafing, regardless of how many layers of underarmor one wore. They fit in place via a similar method as the arm pieces, but there was one extra step. Two somewhat thick straps wrapped around on the inside of his thigh and came together in a combination of belt-buckles and clips.
Kevin would have figured this to be awkwardly intimate, what with Bela fondling the insides of his thighs as she worked the straps, but it lacked the intimate part. He couldn't really feel her hands fumbling around due to the suit, and Bela didn't seem to really care one way or the other. Kevin decided to crack a joke to ease his own tension as she strapped up the second thigh pieces.
"Getting awfully comfortable down there."
"You love it," she replied.
Kevin tilted his head in surprise. That sort of joke was almost guaranteed to make any other female he knew who might be in such a position to flush up and back off. Not Bela, though. He had no follow-up to that.
"Don't you ever get embarrassed?" he asked.
"When I was thirteen, yeah. Keelah, Kevin, I'm just strapping armor on. There. Should be snug. Hope you paid attention, I'm only doing that once."
"Even if I asked nicely?"
"Don't you dare try to hit on me! That's role reversal in my case, and I don't stand for it! Plus, I out-flirt everyone."
"So I've been told. What are the straps for on those pieces for, anyways?"
"There's a button that causes the top of the thigh armor to mechanically flare out. There are big pockets under it on the suit, but it's too big an area to leave exposed. The straps help keep the armor in place, since the one of the two locks have to disengage when it's open. . . Wait, who told you?"
"Thanks for the help, Bela! I enjoyed our 'armor handling session!'" Kevin said as he started for the stairs.
"Don't forget to check your armor for loose fittings!" she yelled back. "I'd have tested them myself, but I think you like the feel of my hands a bit too much!"
"Sure, Bela! Whatever you say!" Kevin chuckled as he exited the cargo hold, leaving Bela to close up the crate.
He thought it funny that he got more of a rise out of her this way than trying to make jokes about it. It seemed his ability to crack jokes was dwindling again. He waited briefly just inside the stairwell entrance listening for another retort, but this time none came. He figured she'd be after him in a few moments to have the final word, but for now he could enjoy his short-lived victory as he marched up to the higher decks.