Subject: [FFML] [ff][SM]Firing Point 37
From: "W. Suika Roberts" <sfr@genom-research.com>
Date: 11/14/2004, 4:06 AM
To: FFML


The last bit I posted went something close to *plonk*, but here's another
one ^_^

This one might get a PG-13 rating, filmed.

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#include <stddisclaimer2.h>

		Suika Roberts
		   Presents

	       Firing Point 37

		 A Sixth Part
		      Of
	     Dark Kingdom Rising

	Private Kim Jin-Yung wiggles out from between the conveyor and the
ammo-racks, managing not to get his LBE caught on either this time, and he
doesn't bump his head, either.  He puts his BCGs on, then his kevlar, grabs
his weapon, and walks to the door.

	The Carrier, Ammo, Tracked, for once, isn't dripping water on him, but
that's because it isn't raining right now.  He stops in the hatchway, sits on
the ledge formed by the hull where it rises to go over the track, pulls his
wet-weather boots over his soaked black jungle boots, hooks the loops at his
ankles, and leaves the other two on each boot open.  He looks around at the
scraped white paint, liberally covered in red Korean mud, the ammo rack half
full of rounds and the other half full of trash, because it's been a couple
days since they'd cleaned it out.

	The openings next to him to the front, the upper one where the heater
was supposed to be, but isn't, because it is summer, sort of, and the heater
was broke again, so it isn't a priority for a couple more months, and the
lower, which is labeled for a kind of powder can he's never seen, are filled
with personal effects, trash from MREs, and NBC gear they're not likely to use
again this field problem.

The ammo rack behind him is almost empty -- they'd fired off all the powder
from it, and someone else took the cans -- except for PFC Jones, and his
sleeping bag.  Jones is just barely small enough for the space.  The racks
above are empty, with a few things in the net at the top.

	Kim turns around, grabs the handle over the hatch, and swings out,
quickly and with the duck and arch that keeps him from banging his head on the
top of the hatch, or his back on the bottom, and sinks into the mud almost to
the top of his boots.  He makes a face, turns with a little difficulty, and
grabs his rifle.

	He slings it over his back, and slogs through the mud to the back of
the firing point, and up onto the path through the weeds.  He turns to look
back at a high point, over the six M109 self-propelled howitzers, the five,
one was down with a bad transmission, and had been left on Camp Hovey, M992
Field Artillery Ammunition Support Vehicles, or CATs, the tool-truck, three
HMMVs, the fourth off with one of the platoon sergeants on some mission, and
the M88 recovery vehicle, all clustered in a mud field between a field of
wheat and one that's fallow, bordered on the front by a dirt road, a line of
weeds, and a concrete-lined irrigation ditch.  The back side is a little rise,
covered in weeds and a few paths leading to the cliff-edge.

	He turns, again, and walks the rest of the way through the weeds.  He
stops next to one of the few trees clinging to the edge, looks out through the
scant cover of vegitation, grabs the lower pull of his coveralls' front
zipper, and pulls it up, reaching into his fly to pull out his penis.  He
grabs the tree for a little added support, leans forward, pulls his foreskin
back, and watches the stream of urine vanish towards the vegitation at the
bottom of the cliff.  He's still too shy to masturbate over the edge in
daylight, but rather likes the feeling at night.

	`Jin-Yung?' a female voice asks.

	He shakes off, arranges himself, zips down, `Hai?' he asks the air
quietly.

	`Are you alone?' she asks in Japanese.

	`Yes, what's up?'

	`Something big has come up.'

	`Bigger than the Kiseinen flowers?'

	`Bigger than that,' she says, `We've an organized enemy, and a pair of
Sailors who are being rockheads.  We need Ami-chan back.'

	`It was fun, sorta, well,' Jin-Yung sighs, `mostly masochistic fun,
but I'll miss a couple of the guys.'

	`Do you want to sneek off, or do you want us to show up in full Sailor
splendor?'

	`Full splendor would really jerk the BC's chain.'

	`We'll be there in a few minutes, then, once Mako-chan gets back
here.'

	`OK, I'll be waiting for you to show up.'

	Nothing follows, so Kim turns and walks back towards the CAT, slogging
slowly through the mud.  He thinks, for a moment, about how much of his stuff
he actually needs, then decides he might as well take it all, and climbs up
the baskets on the back of the FAASV to the roof, being careful of his
slippery boots, and pulls his ruck loose, dropping it off the front onto the
grill, then goes back for his duffle, and drops it after, then climbs down,
first onto the grill, then down the sloped aluminum-plate front and jumps to
the mud.  He pushes his glasses up his nose, slogs around, climbs back in the
side hatch, catching his rifle for a moment, so he has to pause and untangle
the M16A2 before he can get in, and starts gathering the last of his gear, his
poncho, his shave kit, and his NBC bag, then climbs back out, taking his rifle
off so he doesn't catch it.  Everything is thrown up on the grill in a couple
trips, and he climbs up after it.  He stuffs everything loose into his duffle.

	A few moments later three Sailors arrive in a swirl of light and mud.

	`Ick!' Sailor Moon says, shaking one booted foot, already muddy to the
ankle.

	`Sir!' Kim yells, tossing his ruck at Sailor Jupiter.  She catches it
easily, and puts it on.  Sailor Mars staggers a little at the impact of his
duffle, but swings it on, too.

	The First Sergeant and Battery Commander are watching in surprise as
Kim addresses them, `I'm sorry, but I've got to go now.  I won't say it's been
fun, but it was educational, I guess.'

	He unslings his rifle, and holds it in his right hand, `First
Sergeant, catch!' and throws it.

	First Sergeant catches it, and doesn't notice as Kim lifts something
pastel blue towards the sky.

	`Mercury Planet Power,' everyone is out, and watching by this point,
`Make UP!'  Blue light surrounds him, not blinding, but blurring any details
as it fades, revealing a slighter, shorter form, in a short skirt and
low-heeled blue boots.

	`Good bye!' she calls, and drops off the front of the cat into the
mud, joining hands with the other Sailors.

	`Sailor,' they call in unison, the mud swirling, lifting into the air,
`TELEPORT!' and dropping back with little splats after they vanish in a swirl
of light.

	`Well,' PV2 Griego says, `That explains why Kim was so particular
about lesbian porn.'


				     Fin

---
Log:
2003/October/sometime:	Spent a little bit of time at Firing Point 37, and was
			impressed by the setting.  The thought of what Ami-chan
			might do in the Artillery came up, and sorta plotted.
2004/September/27:	Wrote this.  It's less involved than my plottings, but
			I don't remember most of those, so.
2004/November/5:	Title Block
2004/November/14:	Tiny edits

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ja ne,
	Suika

--
		sfr@genom-research.com
"Amazing what caffeine and no sense of self-preservation can do..."
	<a href="http://homepage.mac.com/ssfr">my page</a>

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