Gee. Only over a month behind for this one:
FOX Squadron
by G.L. Sandborn
Episode 4 - Legends and Scoundrels
Samantha Fox
The pilot. Not the singer.
paused out front of Grant Barracks and
stretched.
Jiggling slightly for the benefit of those present.
Stifling a yawn, she turned her face towards the rising sun,
savoring its warmth. She liked mornings, liked getting up early
enough to see the sun rise.
I hope she dies in pain. (Why no, I'm not a morning person. Why do you ask?)
It called to something deep inside,
urging her to spread her arms and welcome the sun as her
ancestors had done for centuries.
But the horrible truth of the matter was they celebrated it by sleeping in.
It was just another example of how reality got completely distorted by myth.
Perhaps this was why the
Lakota always built their homes so they faced east.
Her early motion devotions to the rising sun was
were
interrupted
by the arrival of her sister in their beat-up old car. Idling
roughly, it was such an eyesore with its rust spots, dented
bumpers and spots of primer to cover attempted repairs,
Ah, so she's a redneck. :)
she
glanced around to see if anyone was looking. The morning might
be beautiful but this vehicle was an eyesore.
You just used 'eyesore' earlier in the sentence. I'd recommend changing one
or the other.
Settling into the bucket seat covered in artificial sheep's
wool to hide the deteriorating upholstery, she yanked shut the
door. It caught on the first try. That was a good omen for the
day ahead.
Heh
"You know how I feel about Nancy." Samantha pouted and
flicked the card's edge with a perfectly manicured fingernail.
"She's all there is.
Another woman. *Gasp* What a surprise. :)
I've called, begged, and tried
everything but trickery. No one is interested. They're all
convinced the Southern Cross will be taking over soon and don't
want to stick their necks out when they'll be home in a few
months, safe and sound.
Nice attitude. No wonder Leonard takes over.
Katherine nodded, her eyes fixed on some point far away. "I
talked to one of the survivors last night. He kept insisting
what happened wasn't Colonel Stuart's fault. He confirmed
everything we've heard; that Stuart could have disobeyed orders
and pulled out to save the squadron but that would have let the
rebels have a straight shot at all the villages near the border.
A lot of women and children would have died."
What? No men in the villages, or are men worthless when it comes to being
helpless cannon fodder?
Katherine ran a
hand through her hair before hugging her self
herself
"I wonder why he didn't."
He's a good man.
"You remember something Grandpa Black Bear told us about how
we got our family name?"
"Something about an ancestor of ours getting caught screwing a bear, as I
recall," Samantha said.
Her sister's story brought back memories of cool summer
nights when they would all gather around a campfire and listen as
Grandpa Black Bear told his grandchildren stories.
Already used 'story' earlier in the sentence. I'd change the first one to
'tale'
She could
still hear his aging voice rising and falling as he told his
tales;
especially since you use tale here
painting vivid pictures of life long ago.
Grandpa Black Bear: There was this squaw, a real hot piece of tail that got
me hard just thinking about her. Now those were the days when women were
women, let me tell you.
His eyes,
normally dull and barely visible, would light up with excitement
when he told of great battles and fearless tribal warriors.
His favorite story was how the family got its name. The
battle with the Crow raiding party was always the high point of
the evening. He could tell the story so that you would swear you
witnessed the battle first hand. When he got to the part about
how the Kit Foxes refused to run, he would pause so that you
wanted to scream for him to finish; to tell you for the hundredth
time how the Kit Foxes refused to run, even when there seemed no
hope for survival. Many times the girls cried, holding each
other as the heros
heroes (I think)
fell.
He always ended the story with the same song.
"Ice, Ice Baby." He was usually beaten quite thoroughly for doing it, too.
She'd heard
it so many times it was permanently imprinted on her heart.
Softly, like speaking words at a funeral, she recited the song.
"I am a Fox. I am supposed to die. If there is anything
difficult, if there is anything dangerous, that is mine to do."
It was a heavy heritage their name carried; one that meant
they never turned from the difficult, never retreated from an
enemy, and usually paid the ultimate price for doing so.
Which is why there aren't many Foxes left. :)
While finding Lt Wallace and Capt Parino waiting for him
wasn't all that strange, he couldn't help noticing their
'cat-that-ate-the-canary' smiles they added to their salutes.
Although Cindy's smile was commonplace, the female Zentraedi's
was something not soon forgotten. While its uniqueness made it
special, the fact it made her look unusually attractive didn't go
unnoticed.
Probably something bad has happened then. :)
"You two painted this?" he asked, sweeping his arm towards
the two signs. "How did you get the materials?"
"We borrowed them," Cindy simply answered as if to bring the
whole inquiry to a halt.
"I wasn't aware the Paint Shop loaned their materials."
"It's known as 'independent requisitioning', sir' Cindy informed him.
Jeff caught out of the corner of his eye Cindy's grimace.
It was one thing to be clever about a scam but a whole 'nother to
blow the deal by confessing to your commanding officer. He
fought a smile. These two were quite a pair.
"We understand its
it's
improper to secure materials in this
manner but its
it's
so unfair that all the other squadrons have
reserved parking for their officers while you and Captain Fox
have to part
park
"I tried to go through channels, sir, but they kept putting
me off," she said defensively. "They couldn't get here until
after we were to be shipped out."
Just like every other bureaucracy. So what's her problem? :)
Jeff sighed. "Miss Wallace, I'm becoming increasingly
concerned about the effect you're having on the members of this
squadron."
"Things are getting done efficiently instead of in the military way. That's
not good at all," he sighed.
Cindy and Ona followed but only as far as Cindy's desk.
They'd pulled off their little 'project' without getting in
trouble. That was in itself a kind of reward. No sense in
pushing their luck. Besides, they knew, deep down, Colonel
Stuart appreciated the gesture. It demonstrated how they were
coming together as a unit.
"Lt Wallace?
Lt.
" Jeff said.
"Yes, sir?" she replied with a hopeful expression.
"Good job." He added wink before turning away. He couldn't
help but catch her little-girl grin at the compliment.
One of the few luxuries they *did* have was an automatic
coffee maker.
Otherwise known as a 'secretary.' :)
He used to find refuge in his command office but with all
the problems this squadron presented, it had become more of a
torture chamber.
Although he had to admit putting the Iron Maiden in a corner added to that
feeling.
Dropping into his aging swivel chair that squealed in
protest, he rocked back and cradled the warm cup in his hands.
So far, he had three pilots, maybe four, a spooky but resourceful
Admin officer, three run-down buildings and no Veritechs.
Raising his cup in a lazy salute towards the RDF Headquarters
Building
don't think 'Building' needs to be capitalized. Not sure
"What is it?" He rolled his head to see her holding the
door open. She looked perky this morning. Of course, she looked
perky *every* morning. He hated perky in the morning.
Same here. Best to kill her now in the hopes they can get a replacement
later.
uniform. Too bad. They had no need for a chopper pilot.
Heh. That's what he thinks.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" he asked,
trying to appear 'commanding'.
Rule of thumb: If you have to 'try to look commanding', you are not
commanding. :)
"I'm Lieutenant Daisy Mills, sir," the first one said.
'Daisy Chain' might have been better for a few good laughs. :)
"No, sir. I guess I'll just have to learn on the job," she
said in a manner that reminded him of the way fighter pilots have
talked since the first ones went up in biplanes.
They talk big, even after they've been shot down. Both in the combat zone by
enemy pilots and in bars by women they try to pick up. :)
Jeff sighed and shook his head. "It would be nice if
Captain Fox shared her beliefs with me first."
But she's a Buddist. And it would take too long to explain those beliefs.
"If she can learn, so can I," Gloria finished with a huff.
That was enough for Jeff. "She's already a pilot."
"I've scored over 800,000 points in one series alone," the
girl offered in a defensive manner. "Find someone who's done
*that*."
Hmm. A savant, then?
Jeff rolled his eyes and nodded. He didn't have time for
wife's relations right now.
for his wife's
"She says it has to do with a certain 'package' you sent
her."
Package? What pack...? Cindy barely had time to release
the phone before Jeff snatched it from her hand. That 'package'
could only be Lt Missy Robins.
Still think you need to add a period to the ranks.
Confident that Margie had Missy well hidden, Jeff tossed the
phone to Cindy and headed for the door. "ONA!" he yelled. Going
to the mission alone wasn't a good idea. He needed some muscle
and he couldn't think of anyone better than the cool Zentraedi.
True. She ought to enjoy that.
Gunning the engine and teasing the big land rover into a
lower gear, he barely slowed down passing through the back gate.
The two guards had just enough time to verify who it was and duck
out of the way as his rover breezed past.
heh.
About a quarter mile down the road, Daisy figured it was
time for some answers. She wanted to know where they were going
and why.
Jeff sighed before answering. He told them about Missy
Robins and how she was hold-up
holed up
in a mission building run by his
wife's Aunt Margie.
"Oh, you mean *crazy* Aunt Margie," Daisy said with a snort,
folding her arms and slumping back into the seat.
Heh.
He'd been to the mission a couple of times with his wife,
usually around Christmas, to bring little gifts for the children
and necessities for the adults. He didn't recall either a
basement or an attic. Most of the closets had their doors
removed. Beds were little more than well-used mattresses tossed
on the floor in whatever room that had floor space. If Missy
*was* still hiding in the mission, it wouldn't take long for RDF
Security to roust her out.
Feh. He isn't aquainted with true smugglers. They could hide a person in a
mousehole if the need is pressing.
"And just why would you want to do something so despicable,
*Captain*,"
*Captain*?"
"Who's?" Jeff was becoming irritated at this whole like of
conversation. He had a particular dislike for the ASC and their
black-suited GMP goons. That only intensified his repulsion at
RDF men doing their dirty work.
Yeah. It would be too.
" Margie muttered,
her eyes raised skyward.
Jeff cleared his throat with a glance Margie's way. "Sorry,
Sister." Turning back to the Captain. "I can't believe you
intend to ransack this religious sanctuary in a misguided attempt
to find someone that this pious woman has already asserted is not
inside. Have we come to that, Captain?"
Captain doesn't deserve his rank if he backs down from that.
The Captain hesitated. "Of course, sir. We're not GMP."
"Believe me, we're grateful for *that*, Jeff
that*,"
Discreetly glancing around, Jeff wondered just what Margie
did with Lieutenant Robins. There was obviously nowhere for
anyone to hide in such a small place.
Oh so little he knows. :)
His pondering was cut short by the reappearance of the
Captain. The man didn't look happy.
"You got an attic?" the Captain demanded.
"No," Margie flatly answered.
"Basement?"
"Did you find a door leading to a basement?"
"That's not an answer."
Oops. She did error there in answering directly with the first and
roundabout with the second. Most people don't change the nature of their
answers from one question to the next.
"What would I be doing with a basement and no door leading
down to it?"
"It could be hidden," the Captain suggested, his voice
sounding less certain than his expression indicated.
Tsk, tsk. He should realize she evaded the question a second time. But
unless he's used to conducting interviews it's a common mistake.
"What?" The Captain spun around like he'd been ambushed.
"What do you know about this woman?"
Before the old man could answer, Margie chuckled. "I'm
afraid Brother Dan George sees things when he's been drinking.
Last week he was convinced we had a back yard full of buffalo and
started to make himself a bow to go hunting."
"Many buffalo," the old man insisted, holding up a bony
finger and shaking it Margie's direction.
"See what I mean?"
Heh. Nice save.
Whatever the case, Jeff had to think of something fast
before old Dan George got more specific. Looking over his
shoulder, he noticed one of the windows next to the fireplace
looked out onto the road. "He must mean on the road out front.
If that's where he saw her, she must have been heading east, away
from the base."
Nice save again.
lamented how young women no longer waited in the tepee for young
braves to properly court them. Daisy made a disgusted little
noise.
Did you mention Daisy tagging along? It's the first time you mentioned her
in a while.
"I know that, you fool," the Captain snapped. "She's headed
east." He turned back to the old man. "How long ago, old man?"
"Huh? What?" Old Dan George looked confused at the
question. "Awwww, you made me forget what came next. Now I have
to start all over again."
Heheheheehe.
The Captain's face turned red. "How-Long-Ago-Did-You-See-
This-Woman?"
Dan George's answer was lost in a commotion at the front
door. Ona Parino's voice could be heard protesting the intrusion
but she took no apparent act to stop the new arrivals. One look
at them told Jeff why.
Wearing their distinctive black and gray, along with a sense
of arrogance that filled the room like a cheap cologne, three GMP
men pushed their way into the living room.
Oops. The professionals.
Their leader, a
Major, slid the faceplate of his crested helmet open with a loud
'click' and scanned the room, his beady eyes regarding each
person as a potential traitor. Even the young were not immune to
his treatment. The young woman's baby began crying at all the
commotion and Dan George paused only a moment to blink at the new
guests. This just caused him to start his story over.
"I'm Major Marcus McKinney,
McKinney? Interesting choice of name. Wouldn't have someone Robotech related
in mind, eh? :)
Army of the Southern Cross
Global Military Police - Special Investigations Unit
aka: Secret Police.
"Uh, sir, I think one of them is a Colonel," the subordinate
apprehensively replied.
The Major squinted at Jeff's rank insignia and grimaced.
"Damn RDF rank. Can't tell a Colonel from a Corporal."
Obviously meant to be insulting, but comes off sounding as though he's
stupid.
Jeff's answer was interrupted by the excited Captain.
"That's IT! He saw the deserter on the road, heading east,
yesterday."
"And if you hurry, you might be able to catch her before she
gets to Lakota lands," Jeff said, stepping forward and turning
the Major towards the front door.
Two steps later, the Major jerked to a halt. "How do you
know she's headed for Lakota lands?"
"Where else would an Lakota be headed?"
a Lakota
"Oh. Wait a minute. How do you know she's a Lakota?"
"Why would a pale-face be headed for Lakota lands?"
"I see."
*Sigh* Morons all.
With a roar of engines and a number of anxious shouts, there
road, banging into one another, in what resembled the racing
start at old Le Mans. The final insult came when the Major's
Land Rover cut across a wide ditch, bounced off the road's
shoulder and clipped the mission's mail box, sending it
skittering across the pavement.
Heh. Cute scene.
"Lodge complaints with both the ASC and the RDF," Jeff
suggested, watching Daisy count her winnings. "I'm sure one of
them will eventually issue some sort of an apology. In the mean
time..."
meantime
He snatched the credits out of Daisy's hands and handed
them to Margie. "I'm certain these young ladies won't mind
making a small donation to the mission for your trouble.
Especially since gambling is forbidden in the RDF."
So is hiding deserters. Which offence is worse? :P
Daisy opened her mouth to protest but quickly decided such
would be futile; instead folded her arms and grumped. Ona's grin
of vindication didn't help.
"Well, now that our guests are gone, why don't we go gather
our missing young lady,"
lady?" (since it is a suggestion)
Yanking open the tiny door, the three peered down into the
darkness to see Lieutenant Robins crouched against the spider-
infested dirt wall of the root cellar, a wild look in her eye.
The glint of a wicked-looking knife clutched in her hand flashed
in the dim light.
Great. She's almost feral by now.
"Fish her out," Jeff said to Daisy while stepping back.
Daisy frowned down at the trembling Veritech Pilot before
looking at Jeff. "She's got a knife." She glanced again. "And
she's got spiders on her."
"You scared of a knife?" Jeff taunted.
"No but spiders give me the willies."
Heh
Walking stiff-legged, Missy allowed herself to be herded
towards the kitchen and the back door. Jeff slammed shut the
trap door
trapdoor
and replaced the rug.
"Handy hiding place, don't you think?" he asked Daisy.
The big Lakota just shrugged. "Its
It's
Dan George grinned broadly, the fingers on one hand idly
circling an ear. "Good stuff?" he asked.
"The best."
"Jeffrey Stuart, don't you dare," Aunt Margie warned. She
had returned to fetch her broom when she overheard Jeffrey's
offer.
Heh
"But you have a plan," Missy insisted, a hopeful look on her
face.
Jeff sighed. "I was trying to think of something a little
more subtle but since my hand has been forced..." He pulled out
a wireless phone and started dialing.
"This is Colonel Stuart," he said when a female voice
answered. "I need to talk to General Emerson."
"I'm sorry, sir, but the General is in conference with
Colonel Walters of Intelligence."
Very 'not good' if it concerns Missy.
"Tell Hot Rocks it's important."
"One moment, sir." A long pause followed before he heard
the phone picked up and the voice of General Emerson answered.
"This better be important, Jeffrey. We're busy here."
"What's the matter? Poker game going badly?"
"I'm down a hundred credits."
Oh. Heh
"What happened?" Jeff demanded as he scooped up the torn
skirt.
Ona swallowed hard and blinked back the perspiration that
had made its way into her burning eyes. "You were right, sir.
They left one behind to spy on us."
"How much did he hear?"
Ona shook her head, coughed and blinked again. "I don't
know. He had his communicator out."
Very not good. Going to have to take Missy to Emerson now. Sloppy on
Stuart's part for not going over the area first before retreiving Missy. Of
course, makes for more tension this way.
"She's Zentraedi," Jeff corrected.
"Lord 'amightly."
"No, just Zentraedi."
Heh
Jeff stopped and tried to reconstruct the fight in his mind.
He was especially trying to fit in when Ona shed her skirt.
He shook his head and started for the mission again. "I'm
never going to get used to this."
Probably not. No man ever truly does.
+++++
Katherine turned off the main road onto the gravel parking
lot of the Yellowstone Base Weapons Range. Slowly passing a
large truck who's
whose
Katherine ignored her sister as she brought her aging
vehicle to a halt as near the figure as the gravel lot would
allow.
The crack of a rifle being fired welcomed their exit from
the vehicle.
So, we can expect a gun-nut for the next Fox.
"That's me," Nancy answered lightly without looking up.
"I'm Captain Katherine Fox and
Fox, and
"Okay, then why don't you just take a little break so we can
chat."
chat?"
have to wait a whole week before I'm allowed here again. That
makes me turn into a very grumpy person. You wouldn't like me
grumpy."
"I'm not sure I like you now," Samantha mumbled.
So I guess it really isn't going to make a difference. :)
"No, it's *your* dilemma," Nancy snarled. "If you make me
miss the rest of my hour because of your girlish chit-chat, I'm
liable to put a few holes in that pile of junk you call a car
just to make me feel better."
Katherine: Given the car in quesiton, do you honestly believe I'll notice a
few more holes in it?
"Come on, lets
let's
"After you sucker-punched me, I whipped your butt all over
school yard."
Yeah, but Nancy's the one that brought up the broken nose in the first
place. Shows who's really affected by the incident.
"Well, that's too late for that," Katherine sighed. "We're
already there. What we need now is pilots. You're a pilot."
What Katherine got in return was Nancy's incredulous look.
"You're crazy. You don't know anything about this squadron you
want me to join and you know even less about me."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I was busted, grounded two months ago," Nancy said,
cramming lethal-looking rounds into an oversized clip.
magazine. Or just 'mag.' Either that or it really is one damn big clip.
Nancy snapped a look her direction. "Colonel JEFFREY
Stuart?"
Well, that seemed to have gotten her attention.
Nancy caught her younger rival's expression. "I got that
for the defense of Timberlake. Took out a dozen battle pods on
my own, ripping the p-beam cannons off the last one with my
Veritech's bare hands." She held the weapon up so the feather
dangled in front of Samantha. "Maybe someday, when you've grown
up, I'll let you touch it," she taunted, knowing that Samantha
was forbidden to do more than look at such an honor until she too
earned the right to carry one.
Well that's going to add some spice.
Nice work. Eventually I'll probably even catch up to the rest of the
chapters you have done.
D.B. Sommer