INTERMEZZO – SOPHIE
Sophie stared at the desert sunset. Wearing a black tank top, she had slipped her flight suit off and tied the upper part of the suit onto her hips (using the sleeves), leaving the ‘pants’ part on. She sat on top of the compilation of HESCO boxes at the base’s perimeter, a cigarette on her mouth and black shades over her eyes. Her hair was let loose, falling somewhere below her shoulders. She let the calm desert wind touch her cheeks and inhaled the smoke deeply.
She sighed the smoke out. She thought about her friends. All of them were either dead or dying, except Ryck who was God knows where. There was supposed to be a short briefing that they were supposed to take part in, but Sophie was allowed ‘sick’ leave by the commander and, since she hated briefings anyway, decided to spend her time smoking and relaxing at the edge of the base.
She thought about her life before the Navy. Before the AFUs. Before the Terrentius. Before she met Ryck Norican, and before this fucking war.
She had been on the Terrentius for less than four months and the boys from 187 Defender Squadron were the only real friends she had ever had. She was never actually good with people and had terrible parents. A father that left her when she was in secondary school and a mother who whored about, she always felt lonely and lost and thanks to that had a (hidden) history of drug, alcohol, and tobacco abuse from a young age, enjoying most of her time at a club and was very, very lucky even to be accepted at university. Among other things that she didn’t have was an actual family, which she found in the Navy, in 187. Her brother was the only ‘friend’ she ever had since she was a child, and now he was off somewhere she didn’t know, since his letters were mostly censored out. When he joined the navy after graduating from school, her only communications with her was in the form of letters, which she held dearly to herself. The letters had stopped for about several weeks, but she longed to hear from him.
The original 187 Squadron was made out of six pilots, all of them naval aviators. Naturally there would be the commander, two officers (of the sub-lieutenant or the ensign rank), and the rest being enlisted pilots. One of the pilots was heavily wounded in action and had to be ferried back to Stahlven, and just days after the incident, they found Ryck. Ryck was a unique addition to the squadron, as they picked his unit up straying in space while conducting recovery operations near the asteroid belt of the Stahlven system. He was the only surviving pilot from a destroyed Royal Marines raiding outpost and so, due to the lack of pilots, they folded him in. The rest, including several AFU technicians and security force Marines, had luckily escaped from the outpost and became semi-permanent residents of the Terrentius.
She first started this ‘intimate’ relationship when Ryck was stuck in the medical bay and, to her curiosity, Sophie decided to look after him, greeting him and bringing him coffee whenever he woke up. Since Sophie was no unattractive women herself, she noticed Ryck had a certain fondness for her and that’s when they started sneaking away from the rest, making out in the sparsely-populated parts of the ship. Rumors began to speculate but they didn’t care; they were having a good time, and that was what mattered.
Ryck was an avid reader, and was an educated man despite his enlisted status. He told her he was a geek in school and liked staying away from the others because of their ‘hedonistic’ approach to a ‘universe where they mattered little’, something she agreed upon very much. She liked listening to his weird contemplations on life, on society, and the rest liked to tease him on it.
She did not know whether her feelings for him were true or not, but she did enjoy, very much, being with him. She never actually fell in love with someone all her life and Ryck wasn’t a big exception. She cared for him, and he cared for her. He got his back and she had his, and that was all that mattered.
The cigarette ran out. She threw it in the sand and picked another one from the pack, which she put next to her. As she looked onto the horizon with the new cigarette burning in front of her face, she heard footsteps from behind her.
“Afternoon, ma’am. Beautiful sunset, innit?”
She turned around. Her training had given her arms muscle-memory to grab the pistol holstered over her shoulder. She saw a Marine behind her, dressed in khaki utility trousers and dressed in a black t-shirt. He had his green beret over his head. His shirt wasn’t tucked in. He looked like a slacker, with messy short blond hair with a rather alluring, devilishly handsome, look. He had some kind of countryside accent she rarely heard of amongst the Terrentius crew. He had his SA45A2 slung about his back, and a cup in his hand. He walked over to her.
“Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere, Marine?”
“Oh, of course I am, ma’am. But I couldn’t leave such a lovely lady alone here, yeah?”
She smiled. “Yeah.”
“Mind if I hop on, sit next to ya?”
“No problem. Needed the company anyway. What’s your name?”
The Marine vaulted over the HESCO box and went next to her. He put his rifle down. “Marine Trevor Smith. Me mates call me Smitty, but you can call me whatever you want, ma’am.”
“Drop the ma’am, please, I fucking hate it. It’s Phee, by the way.” She took off her shades, now that the sun had gone low and nearly out of sight. The sky turned a mild dark blue, slipping from day to night.
“Good to know you, Phee. Whatchu doing out here all alone?”
“Just thinking, you know, about all this bullshit we’re going through. War and all that.”
“I saw you when you arrived. Was in the formation. Lads had a liking about you. Got a bit let down when that warrant officer came grabbing you.”
Sophie laughed. “Grabbing me? He’s a friend. Warrant Officer 2nd Class, just got promoted yesterday, and for very good reason.”
“People say he’s a bit famous. Twenty-something-kills, yeah? Norris or Norrisson or something?”
“Norican. Mister Norican, I believe, is the best way to address him now. We just call him Ryck. He’s been in the Marines six years, I think. He’s a pilot so got fast-tracked up the board. Heard from some blokes that he’s getting a commission sometime later, what a man, eh?”
“Not bad, yeah. Want some coffee? I’ll get you some from the mess.”
“No thanks, I’ll get it myself.” Sophie said.
“So… what are you, actually?”
“You want to know that bad, Smitty?” Sophie asked.
“Guess so.”
“Well, I’m the Terrentius’ secret little whore. I suck the captain’s, the lieutenants’, and the chief ratings’ cocks so I could get free cigarettes. Best job in the world.”
Smitty laughed at the jest. Tricking him with the radiance of her icy blue eyes, she took up his cup and sipped on it. “Actually I fly one of the Defenders. A Dagger, actually. You must’ve seen it earlier. I’m mostly new to all this, actually. Been in the field for just four months.”
“You ever got any of them? Any of the doms? They any good?” Smitty asked. He sipped on his drink.
“They’re good. Got hit quite hard some time ago. The whole squadron got fucked. I’m just regretting how I miss the rest of the boys. Ryck and I were the only ones who made it out in one piece. You’ve seen any action yourself?”
Smitty paused for a while. “Some.” There was a bad look in his eyes, and Sophie knew he had gone through worse than what she ever had to. It reminded her of Ryck. Without asking, she knew that he’d lost some good friends to the enemy as well.
“It’s alright. I’d hate talking about it, too. Sometimes, you just want some time alone. Looking into the emptiness. I like to imagine how it was before this and wish it never happened. But if it never happened, I would just be stuck drinking myself to death in a pub and fucking guys I didn’t even cared about. I wouldn’t ever meet the people I know now. But it just… it just…”
“It fucking sucks. Yeah, I get it. I get it.” He paused and took a sip of his coffee. He took a cigarette and lit it. “There’s going to be an op in some time. Finally something to do. Can’t wait to waste some lead onto those fuck-cunts on the other side. They’ve had too many of ours.”
“I guess I’ll be looking at you from above.”
“Hope so. It’d be nice having a pretty girl guarding my arse.”
Sophie chuckled. “Haha. Yeah.”
From behind her, she heard a couple boots shuffling on the sand. Then somebody shouted. “Oy, Smitty! Wanna go over to the Navy quarters? Thought you were lookin’ for some decent pussy!”
“You fucking idiot, Jonesy. That’s a girl over there! Seems like he’s getting one already!” another Marine said.
“Ah, shit, guess that’s my train. Nice knowing you, Phee. Hope we get to see each other again. Hopefully in better circumstances, yeah? Be seeing you around.”
“Yeah, mate, no problem.” She said, lighting the third cigarette since she sat down. Smitty took his rifle and vaulted over the HESCO box, running towards the rest of his friends, who seemed to be all dressed up and dandy in their khakis. What a nice lad. She thought.
As Smitty rushed over to his comrades, he almost ran into a slightly taller, brown-skinned man in utilities. Flight wings were on his chest, his back straight, and his face bearded. He quickly went to attention when he saw the black shoulder insignia with the crown and the Warrant Officer initials, and quickly saluted. He wore a green beret like the rest of the Marines. “Sorry, sir! Didn’t mean to rush past you like that!”
It was none other than WO2 Ryck Norican. “At ease, Marine. And don’t fucking salute me, ain’t no damned officer.”
“Aye, sir. Sorry, sir.”
“Move along, then.”
“Sir.” Smitty said, and continued running. He rejoined his mates. He was the scrappiest looking among them, but he laughed it off. They continued towards the part where the navy girls were camped, a pack of trailers near the hangars.
“I’ve got something good for you, Phee.” Ryck said. “We’re moving out tomorrow night. Night op, in support of 126 RMC. It’s a classic. Take a position, hold it off for some time, then get relieved. We’ll be paired with 62 Squadron, and tasked with defending both them and the Marines from enemy AFUs.”
“62 Squadron? Aren’t they packed with Destroyers?”
“Yep. And they’re all good sports, asked us out for a drink. Care to join in? We’ll be sleeping over in their place for tonight. Good thing to know your mates before anything happens.”
“Yeah. Alright. Sounds good. Let’s go.”
With the base becoming more quite as the time passed by, a successful infiltration was conducted by 3 Section of 4 Troop into the women’s naval quarters. It was evident as their beds were empty that night; most of them were over in the trailers, enjoying themselves before the inevitable. Corporal Kyrgiakos himself was not present in his bed. However, the eleven men of 4 Troop crept back to their respective spots not too long before the morning reveille. They took another short nap before morning chow, and as they conducted their regular morning drills, they felt like Men Born Anew.
***
ns 15.158.61.48da2
