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"Oh, killer, killer! You'll be in my dreams tonight," said Stinger, rubbing Sharpe's head and gently nudging him in the side as they walked into their quarters. The rest of the squad followed them, each giving credit where credit was due.
"Man, you have got to tell me what you did to make her sing like that. My woman needs some lovin', and you seem to be holding the magic potion," said Rodriguez, a loud and obnoxious laugh following soon after.
"Yes, all praise and glory to the Queen of the Night. Evil beware the might of the force she levels on all," exclaimed Johnny as he tried to give Sharpe a hug. Sharpe hopped a bunk and knocked into a foot locker, bringing him crashing to the ground. Hearty laughter ensued, and Sharpe couldn't help but let a smile creep across his face.
"Nuts to this," interrupted Cool Hand. "I'll be in the shower. Johnny, you coming, or what?" He headed to grab his stuff.
Commander Vox stepped into the room, and the all snapped to attention. "At ease, men." He began to pace slowly up the aisle, looking ach of his men in the eye as he passed. "That was some fine work out there. I think a few of us owe Sharpe a little more than just gratitude." He stopped and glanced up and down at Johnny and Cool Hand. "You two, in the showers now. You smell absolutely terrible."
"Sir, yes sir!" they echoed in unison, and went off to get clean.
"As for the rest of you," Vox continued, turning as he reached his door, "get some rest. You've earned it." He entered his personal quarters and shut the door.
Stinger and Rodriguez sat on their beds. Sharpe lay down, looking up and smiling.
***
Vox bust in with haste. "Suit up, men. We're going in." His men grabbed their gear and quickly readied themselves to leave. "Follow me, I'll brief you on the way."
Thy got to the docking bay and filed into the Sandstorm, locked down, and felt the gentle vibrations as it fired its primary thrusters and left the cruiser behind.
"Gentlemen, we received an emergency warning signal from the cargo transporter Camelopardalis a short while ago. Lucky for them we're only a short trip away. Lucky for us their security squad has been able to cordon the aliens into a small area of the ship. They are, however, unable to continue without our assistance.
"This is a pre-infestation assault we've got here on our hands. Don't think this means we can go easy. I want you all at the top of your game. I know this is your first real combat, and I know that you can show me what you're really made of. Just think of this as a live-fire training exercise where the targets fire back."
At this point, Vox pushed a button under his hand rest, and his men turned their attention to the holo-screen in the middle of the floor. Vox had brought up the schematics for the Camelopardalis. "We'll dock with the ship here," he began as the corresponding area of the ship became highlighted with a green aura. "We take this hallway and come up to where their force is holding up here." A new part of the design showed up in green. "Hopefully the aliens will be constrained to this cargo bay here."
The ship jostled slightly as it altered its trajectory. The autopilot began to decelerate the ship as it approached the Camelopardalis. They entered the docking bay and made a smooth, easy touchdown.
The squad quickly exited and mad their way to the cargo bay doors, where they found a handful of ill-equipped security personnel, who had erected small, makeshift debris shields, pointing pistols at the cargo bay doors. One of the men approached Vox.
"Boy, are we glad to see you. They're all in there. That room has one way in, and one way out, and it's through this door here. We didn't dare go in ourselves like this," he said, motioning to the pistols. "Sir, we've already lost two men. We don't want to have to bury any of yours either."
"Don't worry about a thing," Vox calmly asserted. "The situation is under control." He turned to his squad. "Men, lock and load."
The cargo bay doors slowly ground their way open. Cool Hand and Johnny took point on opposite sides of the hall, while Sharpe led a triangle formation, with Stinger and Rodriguez at his rear, up the middle. They cautiously stepped in, Cool Hand and Johnny spinning to cover their respective walls.
"Watch out!" yelled Sharpe, catching a glimpse at the most opportune moment. He spun to his right, and cool Hand jerked his head back to look. Sharpe raised his light machine gun and let a burst of bullets fly at their target. They hit with dead-on accuracy, entrails spattering Cool Hand's face, followed shortly by the alien that had originally been headed his way.
He managed to wipe some muck from his face and exhale a "thanks" before he was knocked down from behind by another crawler. Sharpe, still twitchy from his first kill, let a few more bullets fly towards, and connect with, another alien.
Cool Hand scuttled his way out, fearful he'd been sliced, and having had more than his fair share of close-calls. Johnny kept on his way and started to work through the maze of machinery and crates.
"Spinners!" he quickly shouted. "Help!"
Sharpe was the first to find him, being the least heavily equipped and, therefore, the most agile.
"Hurry, hurry," muttered Johnny, staring at the spinner above his head and unable to move. Sharpe raised his gun, and the alien raised its head, peering into Sharpe's eyes. Bullets flew, and the alien became entangled in its webwork. It slowly bled, dripping all over Johnny.
"Lovely. Absolutely lovely," Johnny sarcastically effused. "Now cut me out, would ya?"
Sharpe unsheathed his knife and began to whittle away at the webbing while Stinger and Rodriguez combed the rest of the area.
A crackle came over the radio, and then, "all clear, men. Great work in there." Johnny and Sharpe headed out, where they found Stinger and Rodriguez laughing it up, Cool Hand rubbing his back, and Vox conversing with the captain of the Camelopardalis.
"Alright men, let's move out."
***
Johnny and Cool Hand came back from the showers laughing loudly. Johnny glimpsed Cool Hand's back with a passing glare from a light and nearly burst.
"That is one hell of a large bruise," he spat out.
"Yeah? How big?" asked Cool Hand.
Rather than speak, Johnny towel whipped him square across the bruise. Cool Hand nearly let out a loud scream, but, rather than wake Vox, he instead sucker-punched Johnny in the gut.
"Good night" he spat out through his clenched teeth. They climbed into their beds and tried to settle in for a restful night's sleep.
***
It was the next day, and the five men were sitting around a small table playing poker. Normally, they'd be doing training exercises, or they'd be on the range, but, after their fine performance the previous day on their first combat mission, Vox gave them the day off.
"Ante up, fool," said Rodriguez, glaring over at Cool Hand. Juan Rodriguez was born in a mining colony near the Vega system. His parents had worked in the mines their entire lives, and Juan was put to work at the young age of six, all to be able to earn enough money to afford to stay alive. On his eighteenth birthday, his parents sent him away. They knew what a life in the mines meant, so they bought him a one way ticket to Vega Prime, the only class one planet they could afford to send him to, even after having saved whatever they could for the last nineteen years. Unable to find work, and unwilling to find schooling, his only viable option was to enlist.
"You say that every lousy hand. Seriously, why? We aren't playing for money or anything," spat out Cool Hand in an annoyed manner. Lucas Adams, or Luke, as he came here calling himself, hadn't been looking for an escape when he enlisted. On the contrary, his lineage had forced him into service. Every man in his family had, for the last five generations, gone into service with the Frontiersmen. His older brothers Chuck and Chewy were in active service. He didn't want the shame of breaking the chain, and his parents would never let it fall on one of their own. To say that Cool Hand wasn't having the time of his life would be a lie. To say that he didn't want to get out as soon as possible would also be a lie.
"Aw, baby, baby. This one is all mine now," proclaimed Stinger, practically jumping up and down in his seat. Allen Jackson came from a farming sector of Arcturus Eight. His family had had its fair share of hardships, but nothing they'd been unable to overcome. They had a sizeable tract of land, and he knew that it would all be his someday. He also knew that nothing would have made his parents prouder than him becoming a Frontiersman. He did it to make his family proud, to make himself proud, and to say to the universe that he had done something with his life.
"Yeah, we'll see about that. I'll take two cards," said Johnny as he tossed a pair over to Sharpe. Jonathan Rodgers had had a troubled past. When he was only eight, he, along with his twin brother, witnessed his parent's murder. They were pulled out of their vehicle and repeatedly stabbed by a gang of misfits while the two boys stared in horror from the backseat. The crime was never solved, and the boys were made to live with their aunt. As nice as she was, they wanted out and jumped on the enlistment wagon when it first came around. The two were separated almost immediately, but they still tried to keep in touch.
"Three pair!" shouted Stinger, ready to throw down his hand when he noticed everyone giving him a confused glance. "What?" he questioned, unsure of what was wrong.
"Methinks we have a cheater in our midst," mused Cool Hand as he spread his cards, obviously stressing the fact that there were only five of them.
"Yeah, three of a kind," corrected Stinger. "You know what I mean," he said as he lowered his cards, displaying the three aces.
"Either way, I'm out," quipped Rodriguez, tossing his cards to the center.
"Well, it sure beats me," followed Johnny.
"Yeah, yeah, you got me, too," continued Cool Hand.
Sharpe, a wry smile creeping across his face, slowly lowered his cards. David Sharpe had, his whole life, been terribly fascinated with the Frontiersmen and their efforts to secure and protect humans from the alien onslaught. He grew up with dreams of taking out a fat momma with his bare fists. It was his life's goal to become a commander, to have a squad under his control. If he hadn't been accepted for enlistment, he probably would have killed himself out of grief. Right about now, he was riding the high that most people never reach.
"Ha! Ha ha ha!" Cool Hand fell out of his chair laughing.
"I don't believe it. How? Is that even possible?" asked Stinger, rather incredulously.
Five hands of play, and five wins by Sharpe. Rodriguez picked up the cards, three kings and two jacks, to make sure they were legitimate.
"Who gave you all the luck in the world?" joked Johnny. "Seriously. First, you practically single-handedly ice a small infestation force, and now this." He got up and started for his bunk. He turned and addressed Sharpe. "I want you out of this squad. As long as you're here, I don't stand a chance to rack up any kills myself."
Stinger grabbed the pillow he was sitting on and threw it at Johnny.
Just then, Vox stepped into the room. "Well, gentlemen, I see you are certainly enjoying your time off. Don't let it get to your heads, though. You'll be back to work at oh-seven hundred tomorrow morning."
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