The troopers chuckled as Doug grumbled. Cain started marching down the corridor like a cruise director, even going so far as to announce points of interest along the way. Brent chuckled to himself as he heard the squad fade into the distance. As he sat at the edge of his bunk, he realized he wasn’t alone. Rhea was huddled in the corner of the room, a deeply sad expression on her face.
“I’m sure they have their reasons,” he said idly, trying to get comfortable.
“Don’t even start.”
“Suit yourself. Just thought you might like chatting with the only guy on the ship who has no opinion on the Union.”
“Are you trying to mock me? You just called them the . . . that name.”
“Well, forgive me for not wanting to say Individual Traders Union over and over. It’s a bit of a mouth full.”
“Independent,” Rhea said with a chuckle.
“What?”
“You called them the Individual Traders Union; it’s Independent.”
“I suppose it would be safer for me to just call them the ITU,” Brent said with a grin. “I can see why the abbreviation is so popular.”
Rhea paused a moment as she watched Brent smile warmly.
“Do you really mean you don’t hate the ITU for what they are doing?” she asked slowly.
“I can’t say I hate them or love them,” he said honestly. “I don’t know them personally, and I have no idea why they declared war in the first place. It would be narrow minded of me to just brand them evil and be done with it. You seem to like them, and you are a good person, so they can’t simply be evil.”
“You know, people are probably dying as we speak because of my father.” Rhea dug her head in her knees.
“I’m sure he feels his actions are the right ones; we just don’t know all the facts.”
“If you were anyone else I’d think you were just trying to make me feel better, but you mean it, don’t you.”
“Let’s just chalk it up to experience,” he said with a small smile. “Valerie only wanted her division to perform well; she didn’t want anyone to get hurt. Maybe the ITU is similar; their goal is a good one, but how they are trying to reach it is extreme.”
“I wish I could reach my father, find out why he’s doing this. . .”
“Rhea, I have a question for you,” Brent said hesitantly. “I understand it is a difficult one to answer, but I’d like you to try.”
“You want to know if I’m able to betray my father and friends to fight for the Commonwealth. That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Guess I’m not the only perceptive one around here.”
“That’s a dumb question to ask, Brent,” Humphrey mumbled.
Humphrey stretched and entered the room; he had been leaning against the wall of the corridor where neither could see him.
“Rhea is a royal pain in the rear, a whiner who likes to blame others for her own mistakes,” Humphrey mumbled. “She is the first to criticize and the last to lend a hand. However, she’s not the kind of person who’d betray her friends. She’ll fight with us no matter who is against us. I’d stake my life on it.”
Humphrey’s mumble made it difficult to understand his words, but it was obvious he meant every one of them. Rhea stared at him in shock; he was the last person she thought would come to her defense.
“Don’t get me wrong, it gets so bad sometimes that I can’t even sit.” Humphrey mockingly rubbed his rear. “But in the end she is our pain.”
“I didn’t doubt her for a minute, but I had to ask,” Brent said with a smile. “I’m pretty sure the medic has a lotion or a cream that might help.”
“With a pain that big?” Humphrey gestured to Rhea. “Unless they’ve got massive vats of it, I doubt they have enough.”
Brent and Humphrey started laughing. Brent got up as Humphrey rested against the wall next to Rhea. Without warning, she slugged his arm.
“You think you know pain?” she asked as she threw another punch. “I’ll show you real pain
Brent left, chuckling to himself. In his own way, Humphrey was helping out Rhea as best he could. Brent was just glad he could help without enduring a physical assault. Reluctantly, he made his way to the recreation room. He knew Cain would rope him into a rigged card game or something similar, but at least he’d be mildly entertained.
The recreation room was exactly as he had imaged it would be, a tiny room just big enough to meet the basic needs of the crew. Obviously, every ounce of space was saved for the cargo bay. Cain was in the middle of a card game, no doubt working to deprive the crewmembers of their hard earned wages. Doug was already passed out at the bar. Dante and Mahoney were playing a game resembling chess, only with explosions. The others were resting in another set of vertically stacked bunks, a 3P busy working. Brent leaned close to read the 3P’s title. Oddly enough, he recognized it. It was the same horrid 3P Cassandra had drug him through many times. He shuddered as he remembered the bug bites. Realizing that Cain hadn’t noticed him, he eyed the 3P. Bug bites or losing a month’s worth of credits. The bugs won as the lesser of two evils.
Chapter 5: Psych Projection Play
The 3P was exactly as he remembered it, a horridly humid jungle swarming with countless flying and crawling bugs that loved the taste of human flesh. Brent easily found the path of chopped trees and made his way to join the other troopers who had already started on their adventure. Having gone through the 3P so many times before, he was quickly able to figure out the location of the troopers. Deciding to have a little fun, he silently came up behind them. After they dispatched an ambush as part of the 3P’s narrative, Brent jumped out from behind the bushes, shouting bloody murder. The troopers were caught completely off guard and started firing wildly into the jungle around him. He laughed uncontrollably as they realized who he was.
“Real funny,” Cassandra said, clearly not amused. “You want to give away our location to the enemy?”
“Oh relax,” he said as he carefully stepped out of the muck of the jungle. “You know as well as I do that was the last patrol in the jungle. The rest of the guards are . . .”
Brent’s words trailed off as he turned to address her. The first time she dragged him through this 3P it had been the first time he’d seen Cassandra out of her armor, although while the bulbous white was gone it was replaced by baggy fatigues. It had been an improvement as she wasn’t an angry marshmallow anymore, but the fatigues weren’t much better and hid most details beyond her face. Honestly, it was hard for him to tell her gender in the baggy clothes at times.
He had no trouble making that distinction now. She was wearing a sleeveless halter-top with a pair of well-fitting pants. A light layer of perspiration made her exposed skin glisten in the afternoon sun. If it weren’t for the grenades stuffed in the pockets and the rifle hanging from its shoulder strap, Brent would have mistaken her for one of the heroines in those “romance” 3Ps Cain kept trying to sell him. As she glared angrily at him for his stunt, he tried not to let his eyes drift. Suddenly, he felt a strong slap against his back. The force sent him stumbling forward, only to land face first into the mud that caked the ground. Liz rushed over and helped him stand up.
“Wow,” Marie said, examining her hand. “Dante doesn’t even flinch when I pat him twice as hard!”
“I’ve told you that you need to be gentler,” Liz said as she helped him wipe off the mud.
“I bet he was just distracted,” Owen said with a grin.
“What do you mean by that?” Hiroko asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Seriously? I’d think it would be obvious. I mean if I can tell . . .”
“Now Owen.” Sanderson matched the grin. “Let’s not let the cat out of the bag.”
Brent was astonished that Sanderson’s uniform was still perfectly clean, with only a few minor wrinkles.
“What is it with you and secrets today?” Kindra asked, irritated.
“Never mind that.” Brent threw off a handful of mud. “How have you managed to k
eep so neat? You don’t even have sweat stains!”
Everyone turned to stare at Sanderson and were stunned when they realized just how clean he was. They had been trekking through swamps and battling guerrilla forces for what felt like hours, and yet he was as neat and tidy as always.
“I hadn’t noticed, but he’s right,” Marie said in amazement. “Sanderson, how do you do that?”
“I’ve heard of stuffed shirts, but this is ridiculous!” Erin shook her head. “You look like you are on parade.”
His eyes widened. Kindra burst into laughter.
“Now I remember!” she said in-between fits of hysterical laughter.
His head and shoulders dropped.
“What’s so funny?” Liz asked as she hid behind Marie.
“Stuffed shirt Sanderson,” the pair said in unison.
A couple troopers chuckled while the rest stared at the pair, not understanding.
“Sanderson was my subordinate back in our first division,” Kindra said.
“Shortly after I joined her squad, one of the other troopers gave me the nickname,” he said with a sigh. “She used to enjoy to no end calling me stuffed shirt.”
“I can’t believe I’d forgotten.” She was still laughing and had a hard time getting the words out clearly. “How long has it been since I last called you that?”
“A while.” Sanderson stiffened apprehensively. “Cassandra, I take it you two have done this before?”
“Yep, this is one of my favorite 3Ps.”
The squad looked at her incredulously.
“What?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you out of your mind?” Owen gestured to the bug bites along his arm. “How can this be your favorite 3P?”
“It’s not that bad, once you get used to it,” Cassandra said with a warm smile. “Now, we’ve wasted enough time as it is. Brent, since you know what is going to happen, you stick with me. I don’t want to spoil the ending for the others. Let’s move out!”
With only some minor grumbling and itching, the group moved on. Following behind Cassandra, Brent tried to act surprised when they were ambushed again as they entered the city, despite his acting, Cassandra shot an angry look at him after they dispatched the last soldier.
“What?” he asked defensively.
“Come with me. The rest of you continue on. We’ll catch up.”
The others shrugged as they marched onwards. He felt like a schoolboy who had been caught cheating on a test. While the others disappeared into the city, she pulled him off the path into the jungle. When she was sure they were alone, she locked her gaze on him.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked.
“Excuse me?”
“You were aiming at our contact before he betrayed us. You ruined the surprise completely!”
“It’s not my fault I have a good memory.”
“Fine, but can’t you at least pretend to be interested?”
“What do you mean?”
“Ever since you showed up, you’ve had this odd expression on your face. It’s like you are daydreaming or something.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Say whatever you want, but I know you are distracted. I know the idea that we are at war is distressing, but I didn’t think you would let something like that get to you.”
“I can say with all confidence the war is the last thing on my mind.”
“Then what is it? I know the bugs are annoying, but they didn’t seem to distract you that much last time. What is on your mind?
“Nothing! Maybe knowing we win in the end is the problem.”
“I wish you’d put on a better show for the others, this is their . . .”
Cassandra went silent. Brent realized that, despite his best efforts, he had glanced down at her outfit. It had only been a moment of weakness and the glance hadn’t lasted for more than a single instant, but the damage was done. Cassandra started blushing as she turned her back on him.
“Pervert! Is that why you’ve been so distracted? I can’t believe you!”
He was about to try and calm her down when he realized something. Walking around her, Brent stared into her face. She was blushing, but it wasn’t the deep red he was used to, it was a very light pink. Angrily, she swung down on him. He cringed as he caught her fist. Surprisingly there was no surge of pain. With a start, he remembered she was an average girl in a 3P.
The 3P sent and retrieved data directly from the mind. It just took her impulses to swing down on him and couldn’t actually replicate her muscles. He had completely forgotten after so long on Deriso. She had no super strength or burning red cheeks here. She quickly tried to wrestle her hand free as she thrashed against him with her free hand. She wasn’t easy to hold by any means, but it wasn’t impossible like it would be in reality.
“Let go of me! I know you’ve got something twisted on your mind, pervert.”
“Relax, you know me better than that.” Brent hesitantly released her.
“I’m not so sure that’s true. I never would have expected you to be an open pervert. Staring at me like that!”
“I’m sorry, I just never expected that’d you look like this.”
“Like what? Tough with overdeveloped muscles. Sorry I’m not some frail flower so you can feel like the big strong caveman.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“That’s funny, the pervert calling me stupid.”
“Would you knock off the pervert business?”
“As soon as you stop looking at me like that!”
“Don’t blame this on me! The first time I see you outside of your baggy fatigues you wear that.”
“I don’t care what you tell yourself, stop it! I thought you were different. I don’t want you looking at me like that. I know I’m not attractive, but I don’t need you of all people reminding me of that!”
“There you go, jumping to conclusions again.” Brent sighed as he took a seat on a log resting in the muck.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Do I look like someone who is appalled by what he sees?”
“Well,” Cassandra paused, as she looked him over, “not really. But I know that’s what you are thinking!”
“I see! So that’s where my Weaver abilities went. You took them. Tell me, what else am I feeling?” Brent cracked a smile as he asked.
“Dummy.” Cassandra turned away from him.
He got up from the log and approached her. When he put a hand down on her bare shoulder she quickly swiped at him, pushing him away. Stumbling over the log, he fell back into the muck.
“Brent! Are you okay?” Cassandra asked peering over the log, her annoyance instantly replaced by concern.
“Don’t worry, I think my pride took the brunt of the fall.”
“Ha, ha. Let me help you up, pervert.”
She gingerly stepped over the log. She had picked a terrible spot to chew him out. Unlike the main path, the jungle was disgusting muck that was almost impossible to stand in, clearly, the designer’s attempt to keep people on the intended path through the narrative of the 3P. Cassandra reached out a hand to help him as she leaned on the log. Grabbing the hand, he quickly pulled her off balance. Slipping in the muck, she fell right on top of him.
“I knew it!” Cassandra struggled in the slippery muck. “You are nothing but a giant pervert!”
“Calm down, and quit saying that.”
“Even if it’s true?”
“And what do you know about the truth? You are too busy jumping to conclusions to notice it staring you right in the face.”
“What truth is that? That the guy I thought I knew is nothing more than a . . .”
“No, that the guy in front of you thinks you are the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.”
Cassandra stopped struggling and blushed faintly.
“Smooth move. Cain is right, you are a Casanova.”
“Would you be quiet for a minute? Did I eve
r once say I preferred . . . what did you call them . . . frail flowers?”
Cassandra looked away without answering.
“No, I didn’t. Do you want to know the first thing that popped into my head when I saw you?”
“What was it?” she asked hesitantly.
“I wondered if I’d mistakenly entered one of those romance 3Ps Cain is always trying to sell me.”
“Pervert,” Cassandra said in a low voice, she obviously didn’t believe him.
He took her chin and wiped away the mud and grime from her face.
“When I look at you right now, I see a beautiful girl. I don’t want a frail flower, and I certainly don’t want to be a caveman.” Brent chuckled. “All I want is to stay right here by your side, exactly as you are right now.”
“No changes?”
“Well, a shower wouldn’t hurt either of us at this point.”
“Dummy.”
The pink blush lightly colored her face. Her hand wiped at his face before she leaned in and kissed him. For a moment, Brent forgot about the muck and mugginess and even the bugs. They were all irrelevant as the two embraced. She smiled sheepishly as she ended the kiss. He carefully positioned his hands so he wouldn’t touch her bare skin as he pulled her back for a second kiss. She held him tightly for a long while before she spoke.
“You sure this over muscled body is really appealing?”
“I’d answer, but you’d just call me a pervert again.”
“I certainly hope you don’t expect me to dress like this in real life. It’s too embarrassing.”
“I wouldn’t want you to.”
“What?” Cassandra looked at him in surprise.
“I wouldn’t want anyone else to fall in love with you like I have.”
“. . . Love?”
Suddenly, the trees overhead started growing fuzzy, and the ground below started to have the consistency of a cloud. The entire world faded away, replaced by the dull interior of the cramped recreation room.
“I don’t believe it!” Marie shouted.
“I have to admit I didn’t see that one coming,” Sanderson said with a chuckle.
The Ninth: Invasion Page 13