Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Warning: ForLanguage! Because? Santana. And a tiny, tiny bit of Faberry subtext. Sorry.
Note: Remember! Not clones! The aliens have rules about such things. But I suspect some tinkering with DNA happened to get the results they did.
Word Count: 3,046 (11 of 18)
"Yes, Esmay, what can I do for you?" Quinn asked, looking up at one of her sergeants.
"Hey Boss, some of the girls are wondering about leave," the skinny redhead said. "Now that they are out of the pods, they'd like to spend some time on the beach."
"Once we've secured the Zone, we can work that out," Quinn said. "We'll probably do some kind of lottery so everyone has a chance."
"Okay."
"Anything else?"
"The new hard suits are back from Fleet with the weapons upgrades," Esmay said. "They recoded them in boring tan camouflage, just like you predicted."
"And?" Quinn asked.
"Master Tech Jantel says she can have them back to the requested profiles in a couple hours."
"So, they didn't lock the profiles?"
"Not against Jantel," Esmay said, smirking.
"Okay," Quinn said. "Tell her I'd like her report as soon as she can get it done so I can take it upstairs."
"Yes, ma'am," Esmay said. Saluting, she pivoted and left Quinn's office.
"Does Santana know her techs are playing games?" Brittany said, phasing into view.
"Yes," Quinn said. "She's actually encouraging them, within certain limits."
"Do you want me to talk to her about this?" Brittany asked.
"No, it's just a little bit of fun," Quinn said.
"If you say so," Brittany said. "But if this interferes with preparations for the next stage, I'll talk with her."
"It shouldn't be necessary," Quinn said.
"So, how did dinner with Rachel go?" Brittany asked.
"It was dinner," Quinn said, giving her a puzzled look. "What else would it be?"
"Did you have fun?"
"I guess," Quinn said. "Why?"
"No reason," Brittany said. "She was feeling left out. We are all very busy getting ready for the invasion and she doesn't have a lot to do until we've secured the Zone."
"We discussed that," Quinn said. "Her input is important, she just didn't realize it."
"She is kinda adorable when she gets that scrunched up look on her face," Brittany said. "Don't tell Santana I said that," she added, giggling.
"No telling Santana that Rachel is adorable. Got it."
"Are you having dinner with her again?"
"Not sure," Quinn said. "When she's not being obnoxiously controlling she's not half bad."
"I think you should," Brittany said. "It'll do both of you good."
"Santana?" Rachel said, wandering into Santana's office.
"Yes, Berry?"
"Your fleet is very organized," Rachel said. "How did you do it, starting from scratch like you did?"
"Some of us just have the touch," Santana said, buffing her fingernails on her overalls.
"Doesn't Quinn have it also," Rachel said. "Her troopers seem to know what they are doing."
"Q? She and her bunch of over-enthusiastic armored cheerleaders have it easy. We drop them on their target, they throw around some explosives, and then come home. Easy peasey. It's nothing like building and organizing a Fleet from scratch."
"Is that really how you feel about them?" Rachel said, aghast.
"Of course not," Santana said, grimacing. "But Q works better when expectations are a bit skewed. If I told her how much this whole thing is going to hinge on the performance of her girls and that I think her training is just right, she wouldn't believe me."
"Oh. How long have you and Quinn been friends?"
"I'm not sure 'friends' is the correct word," Santana said. "We've always challenged each other and back at McKinley things could get pretty vicious."
"You seem to be getting along now," Rachel said.
"Because we both have what we want. I have Brit, and this small fleet of spaceships and their finely tuned crews. Quinn has a group of girls who look to her for guidance because she's just as good as they are. That matters."
"Huh. I've noticed her perfectionism but now that you mention it she really does seem to need a team to function," Rachel said.
"Enough bullshit," Santana said, slapping her desk. "What really brings you to my little corner of this rock?"
"How does your relationship with Brittany work?" Rachel asked, nervously. "Do you really agree on everything?"
"Of course not," Santana said. "We both like to get our own way but we've figured out how to do that without fighting. And Brit is very smart. She usually figures things out before we start to yell at each other."
"I'm not sure how to ask this," Rachel said nervously. "When I see the two of you together, there just seems to be a natural fit. How'd you do that?"
"You've seen how flexible Brit is, haven't you?" Santana said, smirking. "Quinn isn't quite so flexible, but if she doesn't do it for you, there are over a hundred women, that you aren't related to, and who aren't in your House, who would gladly get their freak on with you."
"What?"
"It takes a huge amount of squinting, but I can see you and the Q getting it on," Santana said. "That's what you wanted to know, right?"
"No," Rachel said, blushing.
"Why not?" Santana shook her head. "Quinnie might be an acquired taste, but so are you."
"I don't want to distract her from her job," Rachel said defensively.
"But bopping in here and distracting me is okay?" Santana said.
"You can handle it," Rachel said.
"Damn right!" Santana said. A knock distracted her. "Yes?"
A tall brunette stuck her head in Santana's office. "Dragon Flight is ready for inspection," she said.
"I'll be right there in a minute," Santana said to her.
"Yes, ma'am," the brunette said, winking at Rachel before disappearing.
"Exhibit A," Santana said, pointing at the door.
"Umm..." Rachel stammered, blushing.
"You have options," Santana said. "Just because we're all 'No dicks allowed' doesn't mean you can't sample what we do have."
"I couldn't do that," Rachel said.
"It's not like you are in anyone's chain of command," Santana said.
"I've got my own minions," Rachel said, frowning.
"And none of them have operational responsibilities," Santana said. "So what you do with any of them won't affect our goals."
"Have you?" Rachel asked. She blanched at the expression of Santana's face. "Sorry, I know you wouldn't do that to Brittany."
"And don't forget it," Santana said, glaring at her. "I know you and Quinn had that whole passing around of boyfriends thing back in high school, but Brit and I are solid."
"Sorry."
"Come along," Santana said, getting up from her desk and grabbing her uniform top.
"Where are we going?" Rachel asked, following her out of her office.
"Introducing you to a widening sphere of positive influences," Santana said.
"What?" Rachel said, following her into a lift.
"Dragon Flight has some of the hottest pilots in the Fleet," Santana said.
"I don't want a hot pilot," Rachel said. "I don't want anyone right now."
"Your loss," Santana said, stepping out of the lift.
Rachel followed her out into a large, cavernous room. A long row of of pilots stood in front of a row of fighters, that Rachel vaguely recognized from a presentation Santana had given several weeks ago. She hadn't understood much of the presentation, but she'd been impressed by how impressed Quinn and Brittany had been by them, so she assumed they were awesome machines.
As Santana entered, the pilots snapped to attention. Rachel stood to Santana's left, and the brunette from earlier stood to her right.
"Ladies, looks like you're in luck," Santana said. "Lady Berry, Clan Memory, has joined us."
Rachel blushed at the whispers, and whistles, that broke out.
"Attention," the tall brunette, shouted. "On your own time, Ladies."
Santana looked at Rachel and whispered, "See? Changed your mind?"
"No," Rachel said, her eyes skipping over the pilots. "Do they fly as well as they look?"
"At least," Santana said. "All of my people are good at what they do. The way they look is just a bonus."
"They did come from us," Rachel said. "Would you expect anything else?"
"Well, I was a bit stumped by all the short engineers on my ships," Santana said, smirking at her outraged expression. "But apparently, whatever makes you an excellent Memory, is just the thing for an outstanding engineer."
"Really?" Rachel said, smiling. "Can I meet some of them?"
"Let's finish this first," Santana said. "Okay?"
"Oh. Sorry. Carry on," Rachel said.
"Thanks," Santana said dryly.
"They're very impressive," Rachel said, watching Dragon Flight as they flew in formation.
"I won't say it's luck," Santana said, "because too many of them are better than the average Clan pilot. Whatever the AI's did with our genes, they grew into some awesome people."
"Do you think we'll be able to do it?" Rachel said. "Really bring the Lost Clan back? And be ready for the Enemy?"
"With people like these?" Santana said, waving at the screen as Dragon Flight engaged in acrobatics. "We have a good chance."
"Good," Rachel said.
"Ready to meet some engineers?" Santana asked, as the last fighter disappeared from the screen.
"Yes!" Rachel said, excitedly.
"Artie?"
"Yes, Lady Air?"
Santana grimaced. "Could you pass the word to Head Engineer Pell that Berry and I would like to meet with her and her crew? We'll use the meeting room near her office."
"Yes, Lady Air."
"Lady Air?" Rachel asked, eyebrow raised.
"It's a thing," Santana told her. "The Head of the Fleet is traditionally the 'Lord of the Air' but, as you can see, I'm better than a dude, so Artie compromised."
"Ah. It's very fitting," Rachel said. "Who's Pell?"
"Well, as great as I am, I can't do everything. So, I've got Pell to keep an eye on all of the ship engineers. Sort of like Quinn runs the ground troops, Pell is Head engineer. It's an important job."
"Makes sense," Rachel said. "A Clan is a very complex thing. It's not just the people but our ships and equipment, and tools."
"I know I'm not the sensitive sort," Santana said. "But how do you really feel about your role in this whole thing?"
"You mean, the 'Yucatan Job'?" Rachel said. Santana tilted her head in confusion. "That's what one of my assistants calls it. She's been watching old movies about heists. She sees this as a great adventure where we're pulling this fantastic con."
"That's an interesting interpretation," Santana said.
"Well, as the squeaky clean, and moral center of this operation, I'm reserving judgement," Rachel said, rolling her eyes. "Early clans were seen as something like gypsies by some elements in the Galactic governments so there is some precedent."
"Interesting," Santana said, "but you're avoiding my question."
"It's exciting, but I do wish I had a more active part. I'm not upset that a large part of my role is to make sense of this whole thing for future clan generations but I need some action sometimes to feel useful," Rachel said.
"We'll have plenty of it soon," Santana said. "But first, we've got a meeting to get to," she said, going to the door.
"Yes, I can't wait to meet some of your wonderful engineers," Rachel said.
The door opened to Brittany and Quinn standing there. "Where are you going?" Brittany said, looking at them.
"Rachel wants to meet some real spacers," Santana said. "Do you want them to come along?" she asked Rachel.
"They won't think they're being ambushed?" Rachel asked anxiously. "With all four of us showing up?"
"Nah, these are engineers. They make Quinn's troopers look like pussies," Santana said.
"You didn't just call my girls pussies," Quinn growled.
"Calm your tits, MacArthur. Are you coming with us or not?" Santana said.
"Yes," Brittany said, grabbing Quinn's arm. "Let's go. Where are we going?"
"Down to Engineering," Santana said.
"Hey Pell," Santana said, walking into the large conference room, Brittany, Rachel, and Quinn in tow.
"Hey Boss," Pell, a short blonde, said. "What's up?"
"Someone wanted to meet you and your gang," Santana said, waving at Rachel.
"Oh!" Pell said. She turned and gestured to a large group of women, some grimy, some looking hastily scrubbed, all approximately the same height, bringing them forward. "It's an honor," she said. "Right?" she said to her crew.
"Yup!" they all shouted. Surging forward, they all crowded around Rachel.
"Ever feel like no one knows you're there?" Quinn asked Santana as they learned against the wall, watching Rachel, Brittany by her side, as she chatted excitedly with the engineers.
"No," Santana said, nodding at Brittany, who turned and gave her a smile.
"What's the deal with all of the Rachel clonettes," Quinn asked quietly.
"Turns out, Berry's brand of OCD craziness makes for some of the best engineers the Clans have ever seen," Santana said.
"Huh. Didn't see that coming," Quinn said. "But why are they all short?"
"No idea. Maybe the craziness gene and the short gene go together?"
"I wonder if any of our genes are like that?" Quinn asked.
"You mean, dominating some job?" Santana asked. "Like Berry craziness equals tough wonder space engineer?"
"Yes," Quinn asked, glancing back at Rachel for a moment.
"No idea, but I bet Artie knows, and Brittany probably noticed long before Artie," Santana said. "Artie?"
"Yes, Lady Air?"
"Can you answer that?" Santana asked. "Did we end up with any other overachievers from our gene pool?"
"Lady Berry's descendants were an unexpected surprise," Artie said. "The others are more evenly distributed across the different Fleet occupation."
"So, no legacy for any of us, except for Rachel," Quinn said. "Our gene pools are ordinary."
"Yours might be, but mine isn't," Santana said.
"All of the resulting descendants are excellent in their chosen professions," Artie said. "There are no... duds... as you would say. But the three of you, Lady Air, Lady Quinn, and Lady Brittany, are well matched to your Clan roles as part of the Nine. Your descendants are equally well matched to the needs of the Clan Fleet. Some are better pilots, some combat specialists, and others command and control specialists, even several excellent cooks, but the distribution is widespread."
"We get it," Santana said. "There's something special in the Berry genes that makes for engineers. She does seem to be happy with this, doesn't she."
"Yes," Quinn said. "Look at them. They really seem to like her. It's definitely going to help her morale."
"Shall we see what they're up to?" Santana said. "Before Berry's ego explodes all over the place."
"I think I'll stay here," Quinn said, not moving. "You can go schmooze with the not-clones."
"Your loss," Santana said, pushing herself up straight. Straightening her uniform, she sauntered over to Brittany's side. "How's it going babe," she said.
"It's like a gaggle of Rachels," Brittany said. "They all talk like her, even if they don't look exactly like her."
"I think this makes Quinn nervous," Santana said, laughing. "She can almost handle one Rachel. Twenty of them? Not so much."
"But they're so cute. Admit it, you like them," Brittany said.
"They do have a certain charm," Santana admitted. "And they do a good job. Somehow we lucked into having our own female Scotty. Many of her."
"But much prettier than an old Scotsman," Brittany said, giggling.
"Go grab the midge," Santana said. "Let's take her to dinner. One of the Quinns has been experimenting with some Yucatan dishes to familiarize our people with the food the Lost Clan eats. She makes an awesome tamale. She's been working on cochinita pibil this week. It's almost as good as my aunt's."
"Okay," Brittany said. Turning, she waded back into the crowd to get Rachel. "Ladies, we need to get going." There was a mass sound of disappointment
"I'll be back," Rachel said, in response to their reaction.
"I'm sure you can visit some other time," Brittany added.
"Where are we going?" Rachel said, as Brittany guided her out of the conference room behind Santana.
"It's dinner time," Santana said. "Don't know about you but I'm hungry."
"A little something would be nice," Rachel said. "I missed lunch today."
"Are you still sticking with your vegan diet?" Quinn asked, hurrying up to keep pace with them.
"Yes," Rachel said. "Not much variety but there are better options here than back home."
"Rachel, we've got some great cooks. I'm sure one of them can work with you to make something you like," Quinn said.
"You're just saying that because they come from your genes," Santana said.
"San," Brittany said, "sharing is a good thing."
"Sharing?" Rachel asked, giving her a puzzled look.
"Her favorite cook is one of the Quinns," Brittany said. "She's just afraid someone will try to steal her."
"One of the Quinns?" Rachel asked, puzzled, glancing at Quinn.
"She looks like Quinn, but taller," Brittany said. "She makes some really delicious food. That's where we're going now."
"And, unlike Q here, she follows orders," Santana said.
"Does she have a name?" Rachel asked.
"Master Chef Romana," Santana said. "Though she prefers to be called Fred."
"Fred?" Rachel looked at Santana, almost tripping as she did so.
"I don't get it," Brittany said, "though San laughed for an hour when she found out."
"Giving them all access to Earth entertainment. Whose idea was that?" Quinn asked.
"Artie believed it would be a good idea for our people to have some understanding of Earth culture through some examples of our entertainment," Brittany said.
"It does lead to some amusing things happening," Santana said.
"I'm not sure she picked the right kinds of entertainment," Quinn said. "And what about language issues?"
"All of the shows were translated," Brittany said. "Though not perfectly."
"Some of it's hilarious," Santana said. "Though, Star Trek just doesn't translate right. And the girls don't really get Kirk."
"Yeah," Brittany said. "Men being in charge? They find that confusing."
"The Lost Clan weren't supposed to be all female," Rachel said. "None of the Clans were. How are we going to explain this matriarchy thing we have going to them?"
"I don't think they'll be too upset," Quinn said. "If they join with us, they'll have their own country again."
"Is there any doubt?" Rachel asked.
"I've been researching current Lost Clan, Yucatan Mayan, culture," Brittany said. "I'm still not sure how it's going to go. Might be rough at first."
"We'll find out soon enough," Santana said. "We're almost ready to go."
Next: Forward, march! Patton? No, Rachel!