Ruckus in Munich Pt 2
Posted: Fri Jun 18, 2004 12:52 am
XXXXXXXXX
Kurz was still getting accustomed to his change in arsenals and he only had 10 seconds.
‘Damn that Melissa, first switching guns, then trying to unnerve me with that kiss. She must really want to talk to the Illustrious Kurz Weber.’
“Kurz, gimme your magazines and I’ll throw over mine.” Kurz grumbled about her throwing this contest, and tossed over his clips along with two Maxim magazines, and two GQ magazines. These articles luckily enough, did not land on Melissa’s head.
“Wiseass, can’t you get past the age of 15 sometimes?” Melissa snapped.
“Leave that to Sousuke!” Kurz crowed back.
“BEGIN!”
This particular shooting range was an oddity for the fact that it was designed for a submarine. Using the standard indoor trap system for shooters, the Tuatha De Daanan utilized an innovative way to capture bullets. All bullets were shot on the range were jacketed in Alnico (an alloy made by combining aluminum, nickel, and cobalt). Although not as durable as copper jacketed bullets it was necessary for the magnetic trap system. Bullets that were shot at paper targets, burst through the paper, compacted against the low intensity magnetic field, the rear range of the wall generated. When collection was necessary, the magnetic field was turned off, and the bullets collected in trays at the bottom of the wall. Scoring was determined by the color of the bullets, not unlike paintball, the bullets were coated with different colored powers that would rub off when the shooter scored a hit.
This was a popup target match, targets were moved to positions through a conveyor system, beneath the floor, and rose when they emitted a small magnetic pulse to attract the target to the wall, and then dropped it as compressed air caused it to quickly vanish from view. The overall visual impression was that of a rough ocean, with man shaped silhouettes rising and falling, like whitecaps.
He felt all action and no talk for this occasion. Most who had never seen the lecherous German in combat, assumed he was weak and incompetent. Watching him shoot changed that impression, from a harmless playboy, to a crack shot.
Kurz had the chorus of “Cum on Feel the Noize” roaring through his head as he began to enter the peaceful state of one who is completely at peace. He paid no attention to the red sirens that began to strobe on and off signaling the beginning of the contest. Nor did he bother to marvel at the polished steel of the cubicle he was shooting bullets out of. The rubber lined floors cushioned the flow of his magazines that clattered on the ground. Kurz had entered a state of divine concentration, one that was necessary to become a sniper. Mithril had etched its seal on the walls of his stall, this, while interesting did not phase him in the least. He only thought of three things, the targets, his ammunition, and his music, Melissa was distant 4th as the chorus echoed in the alleys of his mind.
So cum on feel the noize
Girls rock your boys
We get wild, wild, wild,
wild, wild, wild,
Cum on feel the noize
Girls rock your boys
We get wild, wild, wild
He felt the “noize” all right. The sharp crack as the mag-field generator on the targets was engaged, and the whuff of compressed air collapsed targets he had just hit. Two appeared right in the corners of his vision, a bedpost spilt. He shifted to a one-handed stance, and popped off three rounds at the leftmost one, missing by a wide margin.
“Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?” He muttered to himself, He had the gun pointed directly at the target for chrissake, his shots has gone wide left.
‘She wouldn’t have. Could Melissa set the sights wrong on purpose? She wasn’t that cheap was she?’
As larger weapon swung into line with the stark white targets it spat bullets. They reminded him strongly of foam you blew off a good ale. Except Kurz wasn’t going to drink that ale. Melissa must have familiarized herself with his old SIG P210. She was mowing down targets with it. It was a relatively old weapon, but he liked it, similar to the Colt 1911A model in staying power for the markets.
After his spray across the cropping of targets, he realized that the ballistics of the gun created a slight left slice, which in turn caused the bullets to go astray. He’d have to shoot just to left of everything now. Although Melissa hadn’t counted on one thing, she knew the OA-98 could handle 30 round magazines, but she hadn’t remembered Kurz’s speed-loading. With the .223 ammunition it carried, it knocked down targets as fast as they came up. There was little to none delay time in his reloads, because it loaded just like an SMG, just unlock, swipe, position, and relock. He was into his groove now, targets popped up! He nailed ‘em! He was out of ammo! He switched in a new magazine, and so the process continued. With a symphony of ‘perchaks’ ‘ratatats’, ‘chk-chks’, and ‘pings’ as he shot.
Unfortunately for Kurz, Melissa had found her shot early. She had a lead on him that he was unlikely to beat in the 3 minutes remaining in his challenge. So he concentrated on just whittling it down while running disruption tactics. When targets appeared in the rightmost corner of his vision, he concentrated all his fire there, thus taking Mao’s points, because technically they were her targets to shoot at. These tactics earned him a round of cursing from the next booth over. Kurz was taking her points and adding to his own! Then abruptly the target disruption stopped. Kurz had decided to focus on his targets and leave Melissa’s alone, for the time being, to get her comfortable with her shooting, and then make a few pinpoint shots to throw her off.
A song from Twisted Sister, wormed its way into his head. He had considered acting upon this song many a time, because of the humiliation he had received from Sergeant Major Mao, but he had refrained from doing so. Now the lyrics especially rang true.
Oh you’re so condescending,
Your gall is never ending,
We don’t want nothing- not a thing from you
Your life is trite and jaded- boring and confiscated.
If that’s your best- your best won't do
We're not gonna take it- no we ain’t gonna take it!
We're not gonna take it anymore.
He absolutely refused to take it, unless he deserved it. Problem is; he often deserved it. It made for an interesting conundrum, he hated the crap he got from Melissa and any other females that his amorous advances failed to work upon, but he was not smoothest operator around. It was probably because of his father’s job in Kobe. But he would have to explain that later.
“1 MINUTE LEFT!” the loudspeaker crackled.
Kurz just concentrated on his targets, and tried to even the score as best he could. At least he could lose by a narrow margin to his superior. He would not lose this by a wide margin that was for sure.
“MATCH OVER!”
All targets that were used in this particular match were raised for visual inspection before the computer tally. There were a fair amount of yellow and green coatings, from the two other shooters participating, but the blues and reds outnumbered them by at least 3 to 1. He looked at number of hits he had scored, yes; the blues were everywhere, even in targets that were solely for red. Melissa had practically coated a few targets red; so many hits had been made.
The results showed up on a flat-screen TV above each shooter. He and Melissa were only separated by 19 hits on the targets; however he had outscored Melissa by 50 because of “skill shots” bonuses for especially difficult targets. Melissa’s targets specifically.
“Congratulations Kurz” Melissa said, trying to set up a trap so that he’d be still stuck in his agreement.
“Thanks Melissa, the OA-98 seemed a bit off center—“
“A little eh? It hasn’t been used for awhile, and I really didn’t have to time to set it” Melissa’s glare warned of repercussions of challenging this statement. Kurz had no desire to argue, her intentions had been propelling him towards what he wanted.
“Oh and Kurz, We never set terms for what was considered ‘winning’” Melissa had a sweet smile on her face, sweet to a viper that is.
“About that—“
“So I decided that we should base it on shot count. Making me the winner, and you the loser, however, since you won actual points-wise, I’ll buy the beer, and any outstanding debts you owe me, are canceled. Damn good shooting Kurz, you proved once again you’re invaluable, to Mithril, my squad, and—“
“The world Melissa, I know, I know, keeping the peace and all that jazz.” Kurz remarked offhandedly.
“me…” She finished in a whisper.
“What’s that Melissa?” Kurz was not suspicious, merely curious.
“The world, you serve as an excellent model of the devoted boyfriend.” He stood a little straighter, “because no woman would willingly make you unfaithful! She remarked acidly, trying to make Kurz forget her omission, for there was more than a grain of truth to the former. She had skimmed the rest of his records file while he was unconscious and saw he was sending a great deal of his pay to the hospital fees of a woman not of his family. Obviously his girlfriend, it made sense now. This shattered the image of playboy in her eyes, because it firmly convinced her, that Kurz was not in least bit shallow, rather, had odd personality quirks.
Kurz had become an integral part of her squad, and daresay her life. His levity made dealing with events much easier than she let on. He also was very effective pressure cooker for stress, It was strange, he might he be perverted for that reason?
‘Whoa Melissa…Check your boot size there. You’re getting a big head’
The rather odd pair exited the range, and made their way through the corridors of TDD-1 till they had reached the aft of the ship, where the bar was located. Near personnel quarters because of convenience and it was easier to drag drunken crew members 200 feet, rather than 900.
“Ten shun!” Kurz bellowed, and then came to attention, Melissa followed but in a much smoother fashion than Kurz’s jerky snap.
Lieutenant Commander Kalinin walked down the corridor, looking rather haggard, even for the former Spetsnaz soldier.
“At ease Sergeant, Sergeant Major.” The tall Russian remarked wearily.
“Let me guess, Lieutenant Commander, either you just got off the link from talking to Sousuke or—“Kurz was interrupted.
“You were talking to the Finance Division, about Sousuke.” Melissa finished.
“Hmm…You two sure acting odd, normally the Sergeant would be in trouble for some offence or another, and the Sergeant Major would be administering street justice. This is not the case eh? You all must have gotten drunk. Such quick reflexes for those who are intoxicated hm?” He had a slight smirk on his face.
“Not Yet, Lieutenant Commander, Not yet…” Kurz remarked with glee, this earned him a kick in the shins, from Melissa.
“The sergeant and I were just going to do some friendly drinking. We would not perform unprofessionally whilst on this ship” Melissa was doing some brownnosing to get Kalinin away from his earlier observations.
“Depends on the profession Melissa, I know—OOOHF!” Kurz had binder slammed into his stomach, by Kalinin, as to prevent yet another incident.
“Leave information is in that binder. I trust you will look before you decide to go on leave, Sergeant.”
“Anyway I must be leaving, I must talk to Sousuke. He’s been having medical problems, lately, and is unsure about what to do. I promised I’d talk to him about it, in more private circumstances.”
“What are they Lieutenant Commander, we are his squad-mates and we would like to know.” Kurz asked, with a slight snigger.
“Very Well…Sousuke has been having circulation problems, especially in the face, and is experiencing swelling other areas. He has noted a decrease in situational awareness, as he becomes focused only on one thing. Involuntary Spasms, usually with his arms, exceptional emotional perception, which he knows is unlike him. He has also noticed that he is ‘zoning off’ and losing his edge whenever his thoughts drift about a certain someone. Sweating in the palms and face when dealing with certain persons. He said that this is remarkably like the symptoms of Malaria or Dengue Fever. However he has noticed that all of these behaviors occur around, or in regards to Kaname Chidori.”
Kurz and Melissa gave each other a knowing look. They knew if they informed Kalinin, he would not kick it up to the higher Mithril brass, because he respected Sousuke and his feelings more than that.
“Lieutenant Commander, If I may diagnose the situation given my extensive experience in this area” Melissa snorted at that remark. Kurz harrumphed, and continued.
“As a qualified professional, I can tell you only one thing that is ailing him. Sergeant Sagara is head over heels in love with Kaname Chidori. The blockhead just doesn’t know it, or how to express it.”
“I had assumed as much. If had been any other officer, you would have been foolish to tell me this. But, I put Sousuke on the job because he needed the experience, and he was the most qualified to do so. He’s our insurance, and his protectiveness will only increase once he realizes his feelings and their depth. It will be nice to have Sergeant Sagara become more of a normal human being for once. To know something other than death and soldiering, I am glad for the boy. He will have his hands full in the future. This way, he won’t let his pay pile up, and will spend it on a certain someone. No longer will there be a person on duty, all of the time. He’s got somewhere to go, at long last.” Kalinin thought of his family, and how their deaths had made him a complete soldier.
‘Except that Sousuke is going in reverse, he has not experienced the beauty of family, or romantic love. He certainly will now, and will be better for it’.
Kurz would say his piece about the fight in China later. Not when high-pockets was here. There are some things that just cannot be said in front of superior officers. Sousuke being insubordinate because of his feelings was one of those.
“Dismissed.” Kalinin gave a curt salute, and marched off.
“On to the bar! May the taps be flowing, the glasses full, and the kegs stocked because Weber and Mao are hitting the bar today!” Kurz exclaimed.
“Agreed? Drinking Contest? Winner gets one favor, no matter the circumstances, or reason. Deal?”
“Jas! I mean uh…yeah.” Kurz was getting ahead of himself. Visions of Melissa doing-
“Hello? Earth to Sergeant Deviant? Kurz! Snap out your adolescent fantasies!” The final barb did the trick.
“Right, we should go to the bar!” Kurz said a little too enthusiastically. Melissa let him slide on his previous comments. She did owe him drinks after all.
Kurz offered the crook of his arm, smiling mischievously.
“The least I can do is be a gentleman to such a gracious lady? Would you oblige my excuse for hospitality?” Kurz was in lady-killer mode.
For once, Melissa relented. She slipped her left arm through his. “Granted, my dashing companion, Provided the first round of drinks is on you.” She touched her finger to his lips to forestall a reply, and to seal her victory.
Kurz went beet red in the face, and they sauntered off towards the bar, looking very odd. Each was alone with their thoughts, and ready for the incoming alcohol.
At last the most frequented part of the TDD-1, the bar, not part of original design, since Tessa did not drink alcohol, she had designed it as an officers lounge. That had changed quickly, when Kalinin and even Mardukas petitioned to make it a bar, for the crew. Morale and all that was the given reason, however a bar had its drawbacks, notably the need for Military Police on the TDD-1. The De Daanan military police became infamous, and it was often hard to find cooperative soldiers that would help in any manner.
“Melissa? Could I have my SIG P210 back now?” Kurz asked.
A little embarrassed that she had been holding onto the piece for so long, they swapped weapons and they were put into their respective holsters.
Today was off day for the bar. There were no missions, so it was not jam-packed but was fairly full. Melissa untangled her arm before she and Kurz strode in.
Cigarette smoke and the smell of beer permeated the air. Several tables had poker games, or craps going on. The triumphant whooping of those who have won, the slamming down of chips, the shuffling of cards, and the music blaring, created an atmosphere that both the German and American felt comfortable in.
They both grabbed a seat, literally. Although the stool legs were bolted on to the floor, the surface was not. The indignant occupants stumbled to the floor, and arose to a SIG P210 and OA-98 pushed into their windpipes. They quickly vacated the area, without any fuss.
“Well that was an interesting way of getting seats Sis…” Kurz was uneasy, with methods like this she might actually care and cross-reference what he said, to check the validity.
‘This isn’t a friendly conversation, this is an interrogation. I think I’ll be leaving now’
“Kurz, First round is on you, remember?” Melissa reminded him.
“Oh…Right. Hey barkeep!” A rather large man moseyed over.
“Ah Kurz, Melissa! My two best customers! What can I do you for?” The barkeep had a rather soft spot for the pair.
“Hm…I’ll have a Gouden Carolus for myself, and a Karmeliet for the beautiful lady. I got the first round; the rest of it is on her.” Kurz was grimacing when he had mentioned ‘beautiful lady’ for some kind of punch. Instead he received a hearty slap on the back.
“Those sound good Kurz, But Oktoberfest will be better!”
They began to drink; both beers came in 12 ounce longnecks. They were both chugging their beers. Kurz was aware that Melissa could drink him under the table, which is why he had given himself a slight edge. His beer had 7.5% and hers 8%. It would stack up in the alcohol content.
“One!” They both slammed their longnecks down.
“Another round Wurther!” Kurz was enjoying this. They began the same process again, only slower.
“Two!”
“Another Round!”
“Three!”
When Kurtz was chugging his 4th beer and Melissa was nursing hers, a rather large man came and sat down.
“Chimay Blue, I’m not soft like those ‘hard drinkers’ beside me.”
“Who the fudgie are you calling soft Damek?” Melissa’s voice had an almost shrill tone to it.
“You pukes, Mao. You’ve got the sorriest squad in all of the A.S corps. Pretty boy here, who can’t fight up close to save his life, and is a dumbass pervert. ‘I’m scarred for life’ Sagara, who overestimates his skills, and has absolutely no humanity, and yourself. You can’t completely balance ‘em out Melissa. Why don’t you join my squad? It has other benefits that might suit such a lovely lady. It doesn’t really help that you’re in cahoots with our dumbass captain, who acts like a teenage girl, rather than a capable leader.”
“Look Mr.” Kurz looked at his tag “Hagos, first you come and insult us when we’re having a little drinking contest, and then you insult the men under her command, and imply that she is worse than you at AS combat, I’d say you’re asking for it.” Kurz began to clench and unclench his fists.
“You and Red-eye Mao are having a Drinking Contest? I know for a fact that a shrimp like you couldn’t hold his booze.” Hagos laughed mockingly.
“So Babe, Whaddya say?” Melissa was actually watching to see how Kurz would react, and if he didn’t start a fight soon, she would.
“No.”
“What?” Damek was incredulous. Nobody had ever refused him. He shook his head, and his braids swung back and forth.
“You’re trying not to hurt poor shrimp’s feelings, Understandable. He must have paid you to accompany him around, seeing as he has no other option.”
Melissa had her OA-98 on the underside of the table. That was too far. He had insulted her, Kurz, Sousuke, and Tessa. Kurz had better make a move, or she would castrate the punk.
Kurz did, He launched himself from his stool, and swung a hard uppercut to Damek’s jaw. The big man was not expecting this, and was knocked off his stool. Kurz grabbed Damek’s bottle of Chimay Blue, and brought it down over Damek’s head. Melissa broke her bottle, ready to back up Kurz if need be.
Damek didn’t say Kurz was bad at close combat for nothing. He rolled out from Kurz’s straddle, and kicked the German in the jaw. As Kurz stumbled back, the Czech grabbed a bottle and chucked it at Kurz’s head. Kurz had tripped over Mao’s legs, and the bottle flew across the room and hit a rather large Irish PFC.
“Ye be wanting a donnybrook eh Hagos? I never thought this day would come.” His bottle of Guinness draft was sailing across the room, and it smacked the Indian communications officer, who was drinking his Kingfisher, and it subsequently splattered all over his face.
“You bloody bastards! Kingfisher beer is expensive!”
He grabbed a Sam Adams from an American, and chucked it, and was knocked to the ground by the irate yankee. All semblance of order was destroyed in that moment. Hell broke loose, and everyone was fighting. The barkeeper simply sighed and cleaned bottles. The MPs would be here soon enough.
Kurz dodged a lunge made by a drunken Texan, and tripped him. Kurz conked him with an empty bottle for new measure. Mao was simply drinking and enjoying the spectacle. Whenever someone would want to fight, she’d show them her gun. They’d find easier targets in here than her.
Damek knocked over a poker game table, and found a chair he could use against Kurz. He charged Kurz, and swung the chair in a downward arc. It broke apart on the unfortunate Sergeant’s head, and Kurz blacked out momentarily.
Damek was about to beat Kurz to a pulp, when a snap kick from Melissa knocked him out cold. The scene was a Sturm und Drang. Drunken Soldiers scattered everywhere, broken glass, busted baccarat wheels, poker chips in the most bizarre places.
“Five O! Everybody scramble! Five O!” The American who had the Sam Adams had been keeping watch.
The Military Police grimly strode in to the bar, and were promptly knocked down by the stampede of enlisted men and women.
The remaining few blocked off corridors and exits from the central area where the crew quarters led to the bar.
Melissa was dragging Kurz away when an MP stopped her.
“Ma’am I’m afraid you and the Sergeant are going to have spend the night in the Brig” He had a scared look on his face.
“BRIG! BRIG! I was the one who dragged him outta this fight, and I’ll discipline him. I’m his NCO Damnit! I’ll handle it. You folks are around for occasions when superior officers are unaware of these happenings. Now lemme into my quarters!”
The MP complied, and Melissa and Kurz collapsed onto the floor.
“Hey Kurz?” Melissa had a smirk on her face.
“Uwha?” Kurz looked groggy and his eyes were glassy.
“Good Job. You stood up for me, Sousuke, Tessa, and most importantly, yourself. But I ain’t letting you off easy. We never finished our drinking contest…”
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If perchance any person had stumbled into Melissa’s quarters in the morning after the bar-fight that had obliterated the bar, or rather everything but the bar, everything would have seemed ordinary at first glance. Large numbers of cigarette butts in the ashtray, a colossal pile of empties thrown haphazardly into a wire cage; more suited storing poker chips than aluminum longnecks. The bedding disheveled and vomit collecting in a trash can, directly outside the head, and usual similarities ended there.
Sheets covered two roughly humanoid outlines, meshed closely together and sprawled out on the floor.
At a predetermined time each day (usually 600 hours), the lights were automatically switched on in all of the quarters of the TDD-1 which were not part of the night shift duty roster.
Melissa awoke to stabbing pain in her head, and twin beams of agony near her forehead. She struggled to open her eyes, reluctantly the muscles complied with the order, but the entire process was like opening a rusty gate: painfully slow. In this case pain was used in literal sense. Arising like some zombie from the grave, knees bent and back hunched, she groggily stomped over to the panel that controlled illumination in her room, and slid both sliders down. She then stumbled back over to her sleeping area, and hit the ground. It was strangely padded in some areas and moving up and down.
The engineers must have done some upgrades to the flooring, she thought to herself. This flooring was warm, padded, and cuddly. She snuggled closer to it, throwing her arms around its raised surface. Lulled by its rhythmic rising and falling, Melissa fell asleep quickly.
The “raised flooring” was in fact Sergeant Weber. He was having the best dream he could in the situation.
He was on the beach, just drinking a beer, and sunning himself. All was peaceful, and he was content, but not happy. As he was falling asleep, a figure was walking along the beach. He groused to himself, this was supposed to be deserted, where he could simply relax. As the figure came closer he recognized it. Only one person could wear a lime-green bikini like that, and do it justice: Melissa. He rubbed his eyes to make completely sure of the reality of this bewitching mirage. She was coming closer, hips swaying and a foxy smile on her face. Had he not kept his composure of being a gibbering mush, his eyes would have rolled into the back of his head from the sheer glee of this encounter. She wrapped her arms around him, and brought her face to his ear.
“Remember this Kurz; The longest journey you will ever take is the 18 inches from your head to your heart.” His dream-Melissa had said. This had turned out to be disappointing; as he reached for the strings that held her Bikini in place…he awoke.
Melissa did have her arms around his neck, and was using his shoulder as a pillow, with a content look on her face. He had hit the big time! He looked to see her nak-DAMNIT, she had clothes on, and so did he for that matter. At the very same time, he realized he was not in his own quarters.
‘If I can think straight, I will treasure this moment. At least until something better comes along.’ He fervently hoped something better came along.
One last proverb came into his mind before his head split.
‘There are better things in life than alcohol, but alcohol makes up for not having them.’
Kurz was then engulfed by twin spires of pain. One was rising from his head, pulsing with a throbbing pain in every region of his skull. The other came from his back; apparently sleeping on the floor had done wonders. Wonders for the pain carrying neurons that is, it was not everywhere, and was at the boundary where his shirt met his pants. About right where he kept his waist holster, his right arm inched closer to removing the offending object. With one fluid motion, similar to a bear snagging a salmon, he loosed his SIG P210 from its holster and flipped it onto the couch.
Exhausted from such a simple motion, he tried not to focus on his hangover and tried to remember what happened.
‘I was having a drinking contest with Melissa? Yeah, that’s it and we had been marking whenever we had started a new bottle. I can’t remember who won though.’
His memory only was worth so much in the alcohol induced fog his mind was lost in.
The pain was getting to him and so he tried to focus on the rather pleasant sensation of personal contact between Melissa and him. Before she woke up, he’d try to remember every contour, every part, and memorize the features on her face, because chances were he’d never see this combination again. She was warm, and Kurz brushed a lock of hair that fallen in front of her face.
‘Why so tender Kurz? Trying to forget about Lorelei? Your real girlfriend? Are you that cruel to both of these women?’
‘What part of the hellhole I call my mind did you crawl out of? Nobody invited you to my little slice of paradise, and to interrupt and harangue my thoughts. Just where did you come from?’
‘The little used part of your brain you call a conscience’
‘That much is apparent, and I still didn’t invite you to this peaceful moment. Something you haven’t been able to let me have.’
‘Ah but Kurz you can’t not invite yourself. Why are you even trying to have a relationship here, on this ship with your CO? Lorelei is waiting for you when you can finally get yourself and her out of debt.’
‘That relationship is basically over! She dumped me in the fudgie hospital last time I visited! She said she didn’t want to be unfair to me and her, and she wanted someone closer. Besides she’s doing fine with that doctor she decided to get involved with, after she got discharged from the Hospital.’
‘She said she was sorry about that, and she broke up with the guy 6 months after her discharge, she would have said if she was involved with someone else. You do remember that too, don’t you? Can’t you for once not be self serving, and observe the actions of others?’
‘Lorelei can just go find another guy to go crawling to. At least this way I’ll actually see my girlfriend. Instead of seeing her twice a fudgie year! Besides, I do have feelings for Melissa! I’ve said that to her already, only in terms that make me look like an oaf’
‘The fact that you were responsible for Lorelei’s injuries doesn’t even make you feel guilty? Because of you, that tetrodotoxin got into her system, and she suffered a reaction while you two were skiing, and collapsed. That tree she plowed into broke her back! You did the just thing in paying for research and implementation of that nerve knit, but the least you can do is comfort her. She wanted comfort, and she was alone, did you expect her to just wait for you?’
‘Damnit, she wouldn’t have been able to fudgie that doctor, much less kiss him without the hell I’ve gone through for her! I wasn’t hungry, and the guy was a certified chef!’
‘But it was only a sample, and you actually liked puffer-fish, so why did you let her try it? You know the dangers of puffer-fish, and she didn’t.’
‘It was an honest god-rotting mistake and no matter what my guilt tells me that’s the truth!’
‘But don’t you feel responsible, and aren’t you cheating on her? You’re probably hurting Melissa more, seeing as you’re using her as a temporary crutch and heat sink. You selfish bastard, you don’t want to be alone, and you didn’t when you went back home to Weisbaden alone. So you charmed your way into the heart of a girl, and now you’re going to leave her, after all you’ve been through!’
“Get the HELL out of MY MIND!” Kurz’s cry had a desperate tone to it.
Melissa awoke for the 2nd time that day, this time to a harsh scream. One that was very familiar…
She sat bolt upright, and realized that she had been sleeping near Kurz; she gave a quick survey of her room, and then checked herself. Kurz had done nothing, which was unlike him. She had half expected him to try and sneak something, but he had done nothing.
‘It’s not like I had any reason to suspect that he wouldn’t. But he didn’t and I’m glad he didn’t. It would have ruined any hope I had for the guy.’
“Sure you aren’t gay Kurz? You scream pretty loud for someone who realizes they have a beautiful woman on top of them.”
“Errr…No Melissa, but who won the contest?” Kurz managed to slip out.
“From the looks of it,” she looked at the dashes and diagonal lines that marked completed beers, “You won by five beers before you conked out. Not bad, although you better choose your favor carefully. 23 to 28, say Kurz you got more backbone that even I thought. Ole Sousuke would prolly agree, but seeing as he’s been turned to mush by Kaname I can’t trust his judgment.” Melissa smoothly concluded.
“It’s the first drop that destroys you, there’s no harm at all in the last. The Irish know as much about drinking as we Germans do brewing.” Kurz remarked.
Melissa abruptly got up, flicked on the lights and pulled something from her personal fridge.
She had two glasses, and handed one to Kurz. It plopped and fizzed, and smelled vaguely like Seltzer Water.
“Here Kurzie, Take this for your hangover. I’ve got plenty left, so drink it all. Bottoms Up”
“How about a toast Melissa?” He had a hopeful look, which momentarily flickered over his pain ridden face.
“Why the hell not? I’ve never seen an idiot be so formal about a hangover. ” Melissa was only joking about the idiot part. She usually was, but sometimes Kurz deserved that designation.
“Alright, to idiots and their COs, past, present, and future. May each be better than the one that came before it.” Kurz had no idea why he said that, but it had seemed fitting.
“To idiots and their COs.” They clinked glasses and both downed their drink, coughing on the way down, the taste was revolting, but the relief was anything but. The toast was rather poignant for Melissa, and she shed a few tears.
“Melissa, What did I do now? We never did get to talk, you wanna go first?” Kurz was becoming more perceptive as days went on, plus he didn’t want to invite his conscience back into the fray.
“You did nothing Kurz. I guess I should begin where you will. I was born in Brooklyn as you might know.”
“Certainly explains your way of doing things, and Gung-Ho attitude.” Kurz cracked. Melissa calmly drew her pistol, and pointed at the German’s head.
“Wanna hear me pour my heart or not? I’m not gonna take wisecracks on my childhood from my friends, and tolerate it.” Melissa was all business, and Kurz got the idea, rather quickly.
The moment that passed between them was strongly akin to that of when the Germans and the Russians endured hellish conditions during the siege of Leningrad. You had to acknowledge when you were beat, or both parties would suffer. Kurz did the right thing.
“It was inconsiderate of me, I’m sorry.” Motivation was aplenty, seeing as a gun was pointed at his head.
Melissa continued, resolute to tell this story to a friend.
‘It needs to be told anyway, someone else needs to hear it, Kurz is just the guy. He’s also the only one besides Sousuke and Tessa I’d tell it to.’
“Being born in Chinatown, my family was associated with the Jung Ha Triad. My father was a Jung Ha enforcer, and my brothers had no smallest brother to pass knowledge unto, so I became somewhat of a tomboy. An extremely good looking tomboy, which later caused me some grief. My friends and I were lucky to survive 2 months together. They were usually deported or vanished, because the Triad viewed them as failures. Most of the Chinese that came over were illegals. My parents were lucky, and were nationalized citizens.” Melissa paused and waited for any comments from the usually garrulous Kurz. There were none, he had a rather intense look on his face, and motioned for her to continue.
“Eventually I turned 18 and was pursued quite aggressively by suitors, and Triad officials. I shucked them all off, I had no interest in hustlers or shallow assholes at this point. The last straw was one of them demanded I be a ‘working girl’ of his. You can imagine the consequences. I shot him, and castrated the bastard. This didn’t endear me to his associates, who tried to murder my parents as revenge. My brothers and I lead a NYPD taskforce to the Headquarters of the Jung Ha. Anyone who had a grudge against us was in that building, and we wiped ‘em all out. My brothers became employed in the NYPD as consultants, and instructors. It fit them, they had been teaching combat ever since I could walk. My parents moved to White Plains, and enjoyed the solitude that was there. I lacking a community or place to go joined the Marines. I hoped that they would serve as my new family. My parents disapproved of my methods, and were disappointed I was not the proper Chinese daughter, and my brothers eventually got involved in their work. We sort of drifted apart.” She paused again, to gather her thoughts and to the next and most painful part of her story.
“Believe Melissa, I can sympathize with having no family, or not being close enough.” Kurz remarked. ‘More than you’ll ever know, Kurz Weber has been a loner.’
“The hard part was mail call for the recruits. Everyone else got something from home in my barracks. I was one of the few who didn’t. It was a real heartbreaker hearing people talk about their families, and then asking me. I mostly ignored them, or gave them some BS answer. I was too prideful to tell the truth. After the joke they called basic training, I was actually transferred to a men’s combat unit. I was inundated. When you’ve got hormonally driven men around, hitting on you, you sort of develop a keep away nature. Any kind of flirtatious attempt is met with a fist or some cold words. It sorta carried over into Mithril, and I’d like to apologize for some of the more unprovoked smacks I’ve given you.”
“Not a problem.” was all Kurz said in reply.
“One of the many things I did well in Basic Training was get into trouble. I was hotheaded, cocksure, and skilled. My instructors quickly gave me challenging stuff and leadership opportunities. It helped my maturity level greatly being in command. I felt a huge sense of responsibility, and it helped more than I admit sometimes. Although they were not happy about me hot-wiring an APC from the motor pool, to use in a supposedly infantry exercise. I didn’t feel like crossing barbed wired that day, so I did for the next 3. The guys respected me after that, left me alone too: didn’t wanna associate with someone who pissed the brass off. ”
“Anyway, I had vehicle skills unparalleled in boots, so they decided to include me in the power armor test program. Sorta the little brother to the Arm Slave, no black technology, it was more like an Exo-suit than anything. Pretty effective too, States has been pretty vigilant in guarding its tech though, only sharing it with Israel and other NATO nations. Haven’t been in one of those things since systems testing, so when the next upgrade to the M-6 came out, I signed up to be a test pilot. Got some valuable experience there, and requested a transfer to a Commando/M-6 squadron. I was accepted, and I met Joseph Drake, The stupid bastard.”
Melissa stopped to wipe some tears away, but Kurz proffered a handkerchief instead. She took it gratefully. Since when was Kurz so openly sympathetic and understanding?
“Melissa, I may be a bit of a flirt, but I know when to shut-up and respect someone. This drake guy still around? I need to track him down compare notes, and then beat him up.” Kurz was being the friendly lecher, again. He winced, that probably was not the right thing to say.
“You wouldn’t need to compare notes much Kurz. He had an approach that was pretty similar. Instead of being insulting, he was a complete gentleman. He never went to fast for me to handle, and was very understanding. I fell in love with him. I was the cool and composed one, and he was full of passion and zest. He was dogged in his pursuit of me. I must have turned him down 20 times, before I finally relented. He made me loosen up a little, come out of shell y’know? It was one of the reasons I cared so much about the guy. I might have been content without him, but I wasn’t happy. We experienced so much together, just normal relationship things, that I had never done. I thought it was a match made in heaven; until Iran.”
Kurz remained deep in thought. Melissa was a little restrained, but she could let go and have fun.
“He snapped in Iran. It was a search and destroy mission, in exchange for intelligence from the Israelis, we’d run S&D on those targets. One of these was a radical Iranian cleric who stirring up trouble in Turkey, and a city about 50 miles east of Tehran was his home-base. We had to eliminate him, his supporters, and his successors. Joseph and I were paired together for this mission, and when he saw children with AKs and RPGs he started babbling about his family in Poland. He instinctively wiped that group of young suicide soldiers out, and never came out of the hole the alcohol dragged him into.” Melissa looked pensive.
“He had barely escaped genocide at the hands of Anti-Jewish fanatics. He got lucky; He was at a Rammstein concert. The soviets were looking for enemies of state, and had every Jew in his city executed. He was one of the few survivors. His entire family was killed, like Sousuke’s.” Melissa paused. “Only he handled it better than Sousuke. Sousuke just let his humanity fall into disrepair, and it’s now finally coming out. Joseph kept his emotions and feelings intact. Only he was an alcoholic when he needed to forget what happened. This ended up ruining the both of us.” Melissa looked like she was ready to break down for an instant. She quickly shoved the pain away, and saw Kurz had a worried look on his face.
“Look Sis, You can stop anytime you want. Besides I don’t want my overactive imagination to start to dream of cliché possibilities although pleasant, would be inappropriate.” Kurz was telling the truth. ‘In the movies after this sort of talk, the characters would comfort each other and have hot sex! Yah!’
“We were in Tibet, running a commando mission to capture the infrastructure of a Chi-Comm base. We needed to hit the communications tower, ammo depot, and the motor pool. Then we could help a border town effectively declare independence. With the supplies from the base, it could have held out long enough for international aid. The Chinese would have folded, and Tibet might have taken a step closer to becoming a free nation.” She paused and began to shudder. Kurz became very concerned. Melissa was the veritable rock, and was even more imperturbable than Sousuke.
“Joseph had nightmares before the mission. A pal had unwittingly put Feuer Frei on over the loudspeakers. Combined with memories of the Rammstein concert, and the lyrics message, Joseph was severely shaken up.” Kurz had heard this song, he thought of the song as Melissa continued.
Whoever knows pain is dangerous
from the fire that burns the soul
bang bang
the burned child is dangerous
with fire that separates from the life
a hot cry
bang bang
Open fire!
Your happiness
is not my happiness
it is my misery
“I had to comfort him that night before the Mission. I loved the man, and couldn’t stand to see him like that, and Joseph was integral to that mission, he and I each had command of a platoon, and he was demolitions. The mission was proceeding as planned until our CO got hit by a sniper’s bullet. We were all wearing NVGs and Joseph in his drunken haze, ran out to confront the man. He was noticed and mortar fire ripped our squad. I was lucky, as I was leading the platoon away because Joseph blew away our position. I was the only survivor of that platoon. I managed to save Joseph and drag him outta there. Then it came time for the debriefing and court martial. I couldn’t let Joseph take the fall for what happened. It would make him a husk of what he once was. I…I…loved him too much for that. So I said I assumed command and ordered Joseph out to get rid of the sniper. That lie earned me a dishonorable discharge. And then…Joseph scorned me…the goddamn fool believed my testimony, and was too goddamn drunk to know the difference. So I chucked out that period of my life, and made a vow, never to lose any men due to command negligence again. That’s why I was desperate to rescue you and Sousuke in Khanka. I couldn’t let you two die Damnit!” Melissa started shaking uncontrollably and sobbing. This was a tumultuous period in her life, obviously one which had influenced her future actions and behaviors.
Kurz grasped that Melissa needed comfort, and the only thing that mattered was to alleviate her sorrow. He hugged her to himself and let her tears flow, all the while whispering comforting words into her ear. Kurz had his arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders, and had let her cry unto his shoulder. He moved gently as if one might rock a child. She continued to clutch at him as if he was the only thing there. He moved his right arm up, and ran his fingers through her hair unconsciously. All of this was unconscious for Kurz, none of this was planned, and he found himself reacting in manners he thought he never could. He also found he cared for Melissa a lot more than even he had thought.
‘Guess I should give myself more credit. The great Kurz Weber can be more than a lecher eh?’
As he thought that, his hand started to creep towards Melissa’s absolutely sublime rear. He was on the verge of pinching it, when he found himself thrown across the room and landed on his head with a thud. With a rather surprised expression on his face, he managed to squeak out. “Sorry Sis”
Melissa wiped her face, and snuffed. She her eyes were still puffy and red from her crying but she had a grateful smile on her face.
“I should thank you Weber. Not only did you comfort me in my time of weakness, but you shocked me back into reality. For that I won’t beat you to a pulp.” Melissa glared at the dumbfounded sergeant.
‘Melissa looks so different when she’s upside down. I can see more of her cleavage!’ Thought Kurz, and remembered he needed to close his jaw, before Melissa did it for him.
He did, and righted himself, with his knees crossed. He wondered if Melissa was going to ask him to tell his side of the story.
He began haltingly “It all started with a bureaucratic mix-up when my father moved to Edogawa…”
XXXXXXX
Kurz was still getting accustomed to his change in arsenals and he only had 10 seconds.
‘Damn that Melissa, first switching guns, then trying to unnerve me with that kiss. She must really want to talk to the Illustrious Kurz Weber.’
“Kurz, gimme your magazines and I’ll throw over mine.” Kurz grumbled about her throwing this contest, and tossed over his clips along with two Maxim magazines, and two GQ magazines. These articles luckily enough, did not land on Melissa’s head.
“Wiseass, can’t you get past the age of 15 sometimes?” Melissa snapped.
“Leave that to Sousuke!” Kurz crowed back.
“BEGIN!”
This particular shooting range was an oddity for the fact that it was designed for a submarine. Using the standard indoor trap system for shooters, the Tuatha De Daanan utilized an innovative way to capture bullets. All bullets were shot on the range were jacketed in Alnico (an alloy made by combining aluminum, nickel, and cobalt). Although not as durable as copper jacketed bullets it was necessary for the magnetic trap system. Bullets that were shot at paper targets, burst through the paper, compacted against the low intensity magnetic field, the rear range of the wall generated. When collection was necessary, the magnetic field was turned off, and the bullets collected in trays at the bottom of the wall. Scoring was determined by the color of the bullets, not unlike paintball, the bullets were coated with different colored powers that would rub off when the shooter scored a hit.
This was a popup target match, targets were moved to positions through a conveyor system, beneath the floor, and rose when they emitted a small magnetic pulse to attract the target to the wall, and then dropped it as compressed air caused it to quickly vanish from view. The overall visual impression was that of a rough ocean, with man shaped silhouettes rising and falling, like whitecaps.
He felt all action and no talk for this occasion. Most who had never seen the lecherous German in combat, assumed he was weak and incompetent. Watching him shoot changed that impression, from a harmless playboy, to a crack shot.
Kurz had the chorus of “Cum on Feel the Noize” roaring through his head as he began to enter the peaceful state of one who is completely at peace. He paid no attention to the red sirens that began to strobe on and off signaling the beginning of the contest. Nor did he bother to marvel at the polished steel of the cubicle he was shooting bullets out of. The rubber lined floors cushioned the flow of his magazines that clattered on the ground. Kurz had entered a state of divine concentration, one that was necessary to become a sniper. Mithril had etched its seal on the walls of his stall, this, while interesting did not phase him in the least. He only thought of three things, the targets, his ammunition, and his music, Melissa was distant 4th as the chorus echoed in the alleys of his mind.
So cum on feel the noize
Girls rock your boys
We get wild, wild, wild,
wild, wild, wild,
Cum on feel the noize
Girls rock your boys
We get wild, wild, wild
He felt the “noize” all right. The sharp crack as the mag-field generator on the targets was engaged, and the whuff of compressed air collapsed targets he had just hit. Two appeared right in the corners of his vision, a bedpost spilt. He shifted to a one-handed stance, and popped off three rounds at the leftmost one, missing by a wide margin.
“Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?” He muttered to himself, He had the gun pointed directly at the target for chrissake, his shots has gone wide left.
‘She wouldn’t have. Could Melissa set the sights wrong on purpose? She wasn’t that cheap was she?’
As larger weapon swung into line with the stark white targets it spat bullets. They reminded him strongly of foam you blew off a good ale. Except Kurz wasn’t going to drink that ale. Melissa must have familiarized herself with his old SIG P210. She was mowing down targets with it. It was a relatively old weapon, but he liked it, similar to the Colt 1911A model in staying power for the markets.
After his spray across the cropping of targets, he realized that the ballistics of the gun created a slight left slice, which in turn caused the bullets to go astray. He’d have to shoot just to left of everything now. Although Melissa hadn’t counted on one thing, she knew the OA-98 could handle 30 round magazines, but she hadn’t remembered Kurz’s speed-loading. With the .223 ammunition it carried, it knocked down targets as fast as they came up. There was little to none delay time in his reloads, because it loaded just like an SMG, just unlock, swipe, position, and relock. He was into his groove now, targets popped up! He nailed ‘em! He was out of ammo! He switched in a new magazine, and so the process continued. With a symphony of ‘perchaks’ ‘ratatats’, ‘chk-chks’, and ‘pings’ as he shot.
Unfortunately for Kurz, Melissa had found her shot early. She had a lead on him that he was unlikely to beat in the 3 minutes remaining in his challenge. So he concentrated on just whittling it down while running disruption tactics. When targets appeared in the rightmost corner of his vision, he concentrated all his fire there, thus taking Mao’s points, because technically they were her targets to shoot at. These tactics earned him a round of cursing from the next booth over. Kurz was taking her points and adding to his own! Then abruptly the target disruption stopped. Kurz had decided to focus on his targets and leave Melissa’s alone, for the time being, to get her comfortable with her shooting, and then make a few pinpoint shots to throw her off.
A song from Twisted Sister, wormed its way into his head. He had considered acting upon this song many a time, because of the humiliation he had received from Sergeant Major Mao, but he had refrained from doing so. Now the lyrics especially rang true.
Oh you’re so condescending,
Your gall is never ending,
We don’t want nothing- not a thing from you
Your life is trite and jaded- boring and confiscated.
If that’s your best- your best won't do
We're not gonna take it- no we ain’t gonna take it!
We're not gonna take it anymore.
He absolutely refused to take it, unless he deserved it. Problem is; he often deserved it. It made for an interesting conundrum, he hated the crap he got from Melissa and any other females that his amorous advances failed to work upon, but he was not smoothest operator around. It was probably because of his father’s job in Kobe. But he would have to explain that later.
“1 MINUTE LEFT!” the loudspeaker crackled.
Kurz just concentrated on his targets, and tried to even the score as best he could. At least he could lose by a narrow margin to his superior. He would not lose this by a wide margin that was for sure.
“MATCH OVER!”
All targets that were used in this particular match were raised for visual inspection before the computer tally. There were a fair amount of yellow and green coatings, from the two other shooters participating, but the blues and reds outnumbered them by at least 3 to 1. He looked at number of hits he had scored, yes; the blues were everywhere, even in targets that were solely for red. Melissa had practically coated a few targets red; so many hits had been made.
The results showed up on a flat-screen TV above each shooter. He and Melissa were only separated by 19 hits on the targets; however he had outscored Melissa by 50 because of “skill shots” bonuses for especially difficult targets. Melissa’s targets specifically.
“Congratulations Kurz” Melissa said, trying to set up a trap so that he’d be still stuck in his agreement.
“Thanks Melissa, the OA-98 seemed a bit off center—“
“A little eh? It hasn’t been used for awhile, and I really didn’t have to time to set it” Melissa’s glare warned of repercussions of challenging this statement. Kurz had no desire to argue, her intentions had been propelling him towards what he wanted.
“Oh and Kurz, We never set terms for what was considered ‘winning’” Melissa had a sweet smile on her face, sweet to a viper that is.
“About that—“
“So I decided that we should base it on shot count. Making me the winner, and you the loser, however, since you won actual points-wise, I’ll buy the beer, and any outstanding debts you owe me, are canceled. Damn good shooting Kurz, you proved once again you’re invaluable, to Mithril, my squad, and—“
“The world Melissa, I know, I know, keeping the peace and all that jazz.” Kurz remarked offhandedly.
“me…” She finished in a whisper.
“What’s that Melissa?” Kurz was not suspicious, merely curious.
“The world, you serve as an excellent model of the devoted boyfriend.” He stood a little straighter, “because no woman would willingly make you unfaithful! She remarked acidly, trying to make Kurz forget her omission, for there was more than a grain of truth to the former. She had skimmed the rest of his records file while he was unconscious and saw he was sending a great deal of his pay to the hospital fees of a woman not of his family. Obviously his girlfriend, it made sense now. This shattered the image of playboy in her eyes, because it firmly convinced her, that Kurz was not in least bit shallow, rather, had odd personality quirks.
Kurz had become an integral part of her squad, and daresay her life. His levity made dealing with events much easier than she let on. He also was very effective pressure cooker for stress, It was strange, he might he be perverted for that reason?
‘Whoa Melissa…Check your boot size there. You’re getting a big head’
The rather odd pair exited the range, and made their way through the corridors of TDD-1 till they had reached the aft of the ship, where the bar was located. Near personnel quarters because of convenience and it was easier to drag drunken crew members 200 feet, rather than 900.
“Ten shun!” Kurz bellowed, and then came to attention, Melissa followed but in a much smoother fashion than Kurz’s jerky snap.
Lieutenant Commander Kalinin walked down the corridor, looking rather haggard, even for the former Spetsnaz soldier.
“At ease Sergeant, Sergeant Major.” The tall Russian remarked wearily.
“Let me guess, Lieutenant Commander, either you just got off the link from talking to Sousuke or—“Kurz was interrupted.
“You were talking to the Finance Division, about Sousuke.” Melissa finished.
“Hmm…You two sure acting odd, normally the Sergeant would be in trouble for some offence or another, and the Sergeant Major would be administering street justice. This is not the case eh? You all must have gotten drunk. Such quick reflexes for those who are intoxicated hm?” He had a slight smirk on his face.
“Not Yet, Lieutenant Commander, Not yet…” Kurz remarked with glee, this earned him a kick in the shins, from Melissa.
“The sergeant and I were just going to do some friendly drinking. We would not perform unprofessionally whilst on this ship” Melissa was doing some brownnosing to get Kalinin away from his earlier observations.
“Depends on the profession Melissa, I know—OOOHF!” Kurz had binder slammed into his stomach, by Kalinin, as to prevent yet another incident.
“Leave information is in that binder. I trust you will look before you decide to go on leave, Sergeant.”
“Anyway I must be leaving, I must talk to Sousuke. He’s been having medical problems, lately, and is unsure about what to do. I promised I’d talk to him about it, in more private circumstances.”
“What are they Lieutenant Commander, we are his squad-mates and we would like to know.” Kurz asked, with a slight snigger.
“Very Well…Sousuke has been having circulation problems, especially in the face, and is experiencing swelling other areas. He has noted a decrease in situational awareness, as he becomes focused only on one thing. Involuntary Spasms, usually with his arms, exceptional emotional perception, which he knows is unlike him. He has also noticed that he is ‘zoning off’ and losing his edge whenever his thoughts drift about a certain someone. Sweating in the palms and face when dealing with certain persons. He said that this is remarkably like the symptoms of Malaria or Dengue Fever. However he has noticed that all of these behaviors occur around, or in regards to Kaname Chidori.”
Kurz and Melissa gave each other a knowing look. They knew if they informed Kalinin, he would not kick it up to the higher Mithril brass, because he respected Sousuke and his feelings more than that.
“Lieutenant Commander, If I may diagnose the situation given my extensive experience in this area” Melissa snorted at that remark. Kurz harrumphed, and continued.
“As a qualified professional, I can tell you only one thing that is ailing him. Sergeant Sagara is head over heels in love with Kaname Chidori. The blockhead just doesn’t know it, or how to express it.”
“I had assumed as much. If had been any other officer, you would have been foolish to tell me this. But, I put Sousuke on the job because he needed the experience, and he was the most qualified to do so. He’s our insurance, and his protectiveness will only increase once he realizes his feelings and their depth. It will be nice to have Sergeant Sagara become more of a normal human being for once. To know something other than death and soldiering, I am glad for the boy. He will have his hands full in the future. This way, he won’t let his pay pile up, and will spend it on a certain someone. No longer will there be a person on duty, all of the time. He’s got somewhere to go, at long last.” Kalinin thought of his family, and how their deaths had made him a complete soldier.
‘Except that Sousuke is going in reverse, he has not experienced the beauty of family, or romantic love. He certainly will now, and will be better for it’.
Kurz would say his piece about the fight in China later. Not when high-pockets was here. There are some things that just cannot be said in front of superior officers. Sousuke being insubordinate because of his feelings was one of those.
“Dismissed.” Kalinin gave a curt salute, and marched off.
“On to the bar! May the taps be flowing, the glasses full, and the kegs stocked because Weber and Mao are hitting the bar today!” Kurz exclaimed.
“Agreed? Drinking Contest? Winner gets one favor, no matter the circumstances, or reason. Deal?”
“Jas! I mean uh…yeah.” Kurz was getting ahead of himself. Visions of Melissa doing-
“Hello? Earth to Sergeant Deviant? Kurz! Snap out your adolescent fantasies!” The final barb did the trick.
“Right, we should go to the bar!” Kurz said a little too enthusiastically. Melissa let him slide on his previous comments. She did owe him drinks after all.
Kurz offered the crook of his arm, smiling mischievously.
“The least I can do is be a gentleman to such a gracious lady? Would you oblige my excuse for hospitality?” Kurz was in lady-killer mode.
For once, Melissa relented. She slipped her left arm through his. “Granted, my dashing companion, Provided the first round of drinks is on you.” She touched her finger to his lips to forestall a reply, and to seal her victory.
Kurz went beet red in the face, and they sauntered off towards the bar, looking very odd. Each was alone with their thoughts, and ready for the incoming alcohol.
At last the most frequented part of the TDD-1, the bar, not part of original design, since Tessa did not drink alcohol, she had designed it as an officers lounge. That had changed quickly, when Kalinin and even Mardukas petitioned to make it a bar, for the crew. Morale and all that was the given reason, however a bar had its drawbacks, notably the need for Military Police on the TDD-1. The De Daanan military police became infamous, and it was often hard to find cooperative soldiers that would help in any manner.
“Melissa? Could I have my SIG P210 back now?” Kurz asked.
A little embarrassed that she had been holding onto the piece for so long, they swapped weapons and they were put into their respective holsters.
Today was off day for the bar. There were no missions, so it was not jam-packed but was fairly full. Melissa untangled her arm before she and Kurz strode in.
Cigarette smoke and the smell of beer permeated the air. Several tables had poker games, or craps going on. The triumphant whooping of those who have won, the slamming down of chips, the shuffling of cards, and the music blaring, created an atmosphere that both the German and American felt comfortable in.
They both grabbed a seat, literally. Although the stool legs were bolted on to the floor, the surface was not. The indignant occupants stumbled to the floor, and arose to a SIG P210 and OA-98 pushed into their windpipes. They quickly vacated the area, without any fuss.
“Well that was an interesting way of getting seats Sis…” Kurz was uneasy, with methods like this she might actually care and cross-reference what he said, to check the validity.
‘This isn’t a friendly conversation, this is an interrogation. I think I’ll be leaving now’
“Kurz, First round is on you, remember?” Melissa reminded him.
“Oh…Right. Hey barkeep!” A rather large man moseyed over.
“Ah Kurz, Melissa! My two best customers! What can I do you for?” The barkeep had a rather soft spot for the pair.
“Hm…I’ll have a Gouden Carolus for myself, and a Karmeliet for the beautiful lady. I got the first round; the rest of it is on her.” Kurz was grimacing when he had mentioned ‘beautiful lady’ for some kind of punch. Instead he received a hearty slap on the back.
“Those sound good Kurz, But Oktoberfest will be better!”
They began to drink; both beers came in 12 ounce longnecks. They were both chugging their beers. Kurz was aware that Melissa could drink him under the table, which is why he had given himself a slight edge. His beer had 7.5% and hers 8%. It would stack up in the alcohol content.
“One!” They both slammed their longnecks down.
“Another round Wurther!” Kurz was enjoying this. They began the same process again, only slower.
“Two!”
“Another Round!”
“Three!”
When Kurtz was chugging his 4th beer and Melissa was nursing hers, a rather large man came and sat down.
“Chimay Blue, I’m not soft like those ‘hard drinkers’ beside me.”
“Who the fudgie are you calling soft Damek?” Melissa’s voice had an almost shrill tone to it.
“You pukes, Mao. You’ve got the sorriest squad in all of the A.S corps. Pretty boy here, who can’t fight up close to save his life, and is a dumbass pervert. ‘I’m scarred for life’ Sagara, who overestimates his skills, and has absolutely no humanity, and yourself. You can’t completely balance ‘em out Melissa. Why don’t you join my squad? It has other benefits that might suit such a lovely lady. It doesn’t really help that you’re in cahoots with our dumbass captain, who acts like a teenage girl, rather than a capable leader.”
“Look Mr.” Kurz looked at his tag “Hagos, first you come and insult us when we’re having a little drinking contest, and then you insult the men under her command, and imply that she is worse than you at AS combat, I’d say you’re asking for it.” Kurz began to clench and unclench his fists.
“You and Red-eye Mao are having a Drinking Contest? I know for a fact that a shrimp like you couldn’t hold his booze.” Hagos laughed mockingly.
“So Babe, Whaddya say?” Melissa was actually watching to see how Kurz would react, and if he didn’t start a fight soon, she would.
“No.”
“What?” Damek was incredulous. Nobody had ever refused him. He shook his head, and his braids swung back and forth.
“You’re trying not to hurt poor shrimp’s feelings, Understandable. He must have paid you to accompany him around, seeing as he has no other option.”
Melissa had her OA-98 on the underside of the table. That was too far. He had insulted her, Kurz, Sousuke, and Tessa. Kurz had better make a move, or she would castrate the punk.
Kurz did, He launched himself from his stool, and swung a hard uppercut to Damek’s jaw. The big man was not expecting this, and was knocked off his stool. Kurz grabbed Damek’s bottle of Chimay Blue, and brought it down over Damek’s head. Melissa broke her bottle, ready to back up Kurz if need be.
Damek didn’t say Kurz was bad at close combat for nothing. He rolled out from Kurz’s straddle, and kicked the German in the jaw. As Kurz stumbled back, the Czech grabbed a bottle and chucked it at Kurz’s head. Kurz had tripped over Mao’s legs, and the bottle flew across the room and hit a rather large Irish PFC.
“Ye be wanting a donnybrook eh Hagos? I never thought this day would come.” His bottle of Guinness draft was sailing across the room, and it smacked the Indian communications officer, who was drinking his Kingfisher, and it subsequently splattered all over his face.
“You bloody bastards! Kingfisher beer is expensive!”
He grabbed a Sam Adams from an American, and chucked it, and was knocked to the ground by the irate yankee. All semblance of order was destroyed in that moment. Hell broke loose, and everyone was fighting. The barkeeper simply sighed and cleaned bottles. The MPs would be here soon enough.
Kurz dodged a lunge made by a drunken Texan, and tripped him. Kurz conked him with an empty bottle for new measure. Mao was simply drinking and enjoying the spectacle. Whenever someone would want to fight, she’d show them her gun. They’d find easier targets in here than her.
Damek knocked over a poker game table, and found a chair he could use against Kurz. He charged Kurz, and swung the chair in a downward arc. It broke apart on the unfortunate Sergeant’s head, and Kurz blacked out momentarily.
Damek was about to beat Kurz to a pulp, when a snap kick from Melissa knocked him out cold. The scene was a Sturm und Drang. Drunken Soldiers scattered everywhere, broken glass, busted baccarat wheels, poker chips in the most bizarre places.
“Five O! Everybody scramble! Five O!” The American who had the Sam Adams had been keeping watch.
The Military Police grimly strode in to the bar, and were promptly knocked down by the stampede of enlisted men and women.
The remaining few blocked off corridors and exits from the central area where the crew quarters led to the bar.
Melissa was dragging Kurz away when an MP stopped her.
“Ma’am I’m afraid you and the Sergeant are going to have spend the night in the Brig” He had a scared look on his face.
“BRIG! BRIG! I was the one who dragged him outta this fight, and I’ll discipline him. I’m his NCO Damnit! I’ll handle it. You folks are around for occasions when superior officers are unaware of these happenings. Now lemme into my quarters!”
The MP complied, and Melissa and Kurz collapsed onto the floor.
“Hey Kurz?” Melissa had a smirk on her face.
“Uwha?” Kurz looked groggy and his eyes were glassy.
“Good Job. You stood up for me, Sousuke, Tessa, and most importantly, yourself. But I ain’t letting you off easy. We never finished our drinking contest…”
XXXXXXXXXXX
If perchance any person had stumbled into Melissa’s quarters in the morning after the bar-fight that had obliterated the bar, or rather everything but the bar, everything would have seemed ordinary at first glance. Large numbers of cigarette butts in the ashtray, a colossal pile of empties thrown haphazardly into a wire cage; more suited storing poker chips than aluminum longnecks. The bedding disheveled and vomit collecting in a trash can, directly outside the head, and usual similarities ended there.
Sheets covered two roughly humanoid outlines, meshed closely together and sprawled out on the floor.
At a predetermined time each day (usually 600 hours), the lights were automatically switched on in all of the quarters of the TDD-1 which were not part of the night shift duty roster.
Melissa awoke to stabbing pain in her head, and twin beams of agony near her forehead. She struggled to open her eyes, reluctantly the muscles complied with the order, but the entire process was like opening a rusty gate: painfully slow. In this case pain was used in literal sense. Arising like some zombie from the grave, knees bent and back hunched, she groggily stomped over to the panel that controlled illumination in her room, and slid both sliders down. She then stumbled back over to her sleeping area, and hit the ground. It was strangely padded in some areas and moving up and down.
The engineers must have done some upgrades to the flooring, she thought to herself. This flooring was warm, padded, and cuddly. She snuggled closer to it, throwing her arms around its raised surface. Lulled by its rhythmic rising and falling, Melissa fell asleep quickly.
The “raised flooring” was in fact Sergeant Weber. He was having the best dream he could in the situation.
He was on the beach, just drinking a beer, and sunning himself. All was peaceful, and he was content, but not happy. As he was falling asleep, a figure was walking along the beach. He groused to himself, this was supposed to be deserted, where he could simply relax. As the figure came closer he recognized it. Only one person could wear a lime-green bikini like that, and do it justice: Melissa. He rubbed his eyes to make completely sure of the reality of this bewitching mirage. She was coming closer, hips swaying and a foxy smile on her face. Had he not kept his composure of being a gibbering mush, his eyes would have rolled into the back of his head from the sheer glee of this encounter. She wrapped her arms around him, and brought her face to his ear.
“Remember this Kurz; The longest journey you will ever take is the 18 inches from your head to your heart.” His dream-Melissa had said. This had turned out to be disappointing; as he reached for the strings that held her Bikini in place…he awoke.
Melissa did have her arms around his neck, and was using his shoulder as a pillow, with a content look on her face. He had hit the big time! He looked to see her nak-DAMNIT, she had clothes on, and so did he for that matter. At the very same time, he realized he was not in his own quarters.
‘If I can think straight, I will treasure this moment. At least until something better comes along.’ He fervently hoped something better came along.
One last proverb came into his mind before his head split.
‘There are better things in life than alcohol, but alcohol makes up for not having them.’
Kurz was then engulfed by twin spires of pain. One was rising from his head, pulsing with a throbbing pain in every region of his skull. The other came from his back; apparently sleeping on the floor had done wonders. Wonders for the pain carrying neurons that is, it was not everywhere, and was at the boundary where his shirt met his pants. About right where he kept his waist holster, his right arm inched closer to removing the offending object. With one fluid motion, similar to a bear snagging a salmon, he loosed his SIG P210 from its holster and flipped it onto the couch.
Exhausted from such a simple motion, he tried not to focus on his hangover and tried to remember what happened.
‘I was having a drinking contest with Melissa? Yeah, that’s it and we had been marking whenever we had started a new bottle. I can’t remember who won though.’
His memory only was worth so much in the alcohol induced fog his mind was lost in.
The pain was getting to him and so he tried to focus on the rather pleasant sensation of personal contact between Melissa and him. Before she woke up, he’d try to remember every contour, every part, and memorize the features on her face, because chances were he’d never see this combination again. She was warm, and Kurz brushed a lock of hair that fallen in front of her face.
‘Why so tender Kurz? Trying to forget about Lorelei? Your real girlfriend? Are you that cruel to both of these women?’
‘What part of the hellhole I call my mind did you crawl out of? Nobody invited you to my little slice of paradise, and to interrupt and harangue my thoughts. Just where did you come from?’
‘The little used part of your brain you call a conscience’
‘That much is apparent, and I still didn’t invite you to this peaceful moment. Something you haven’t been able to let me have.’
‘Ah but Kurz you can’t not invite yourself. Why are you even trying to have a relationship here, on this ship with your CO? Lorelei is waiting for you when you can finally get yourself and her out of debt.’
‘That relationship is basically over! She dumped me in the fudgie hospital last time I visited! She said she didn’t want to be unfair to me and her, and she wanted someone closer. Besides she’s doing fine with that doctor she decided to get involved with, after she got discharged from the Hospital.’
‘She said she was sorry about that, and she broke up with the guy 6 months after her discharge, she would have said if she was involved with someone else. You do remember that too, don’t you? Can’t you for once not be self serving, and observe the actions of others?’
‘Lorelei can just go find another guy to go crawling to. At least this way I’ll actually see my girlfriend. Instead of seeing her twice a fudgie year! Besides, I do have feelings for Melissa! I’ve said that to her already, only in terms that make me look like an oaf’
‘The fact that you were responsible for Lorelei’s injuries doesn’t even make you feel guilty? Because of you, that tetrodotoxin got into her system, and she suffered a reaction while you two were skiing, and collapsed. That tree she plowed into broke her back! You did the just thing in paying for research and implementation of that nerve knit, but the least you can do is comfort her. She wanted comfort, and she was alone, did you expect her to just wait for you?’
‘Damnit, she wouldn’t have been able to fudgie that doctor, much less kiss him without the hell I’ve gone through for her! I wasn’t hungry, and the guy was a certified chef!’
‘But it was only a sample, and you actually liked puffer-fish, so why did you let her try it? You know the dangers of puffer-fish, and she didn’t.’
‘It was an honest god-rotting mistake and no matter what my guilt tells me that’s the truth!’
‘But don’t you feel responsible, and aren’t you cheating on her? You’re probably hurting Melissa more, seeing as you’re using her as a temporary crutch and heat sink. You selfish bastard, you don’t want to be alone, and you didn’t when you went back home to Weisbaden alone. So you charmed your way into the heart of a girl, and now you’re going to leave her, after all you’ve been through!’
“Get the HELL out of MY MIND!” Kurz’s cry had a desperate tone to it.
Melissa awoke for the 2nd time that day, this time to a harsh scream. One that was very familiar…
She sat bolt upright, and realized that she had been sleeping near Kurz; she gave a quick survey of her room, and then checked herself. Kurz had done nothing, which was unlike him. She had half expected him to try and sneak something, but he had done nothing.
‘It’s not like I had any reason to suspect that he wouldn’t. But he didn’t and I’m glad he didn’t. It would have ruined any hope I had for the guy.’
“Sure you aren’t gay Kurz? You scream pretty loud for someone who realizes they have a beautiful woman on top of them.”
“Errr…No Melissa, but who won the contest?” Kurz managed to slip out.
“From the looks of it,” she looked at the dashes and diagonal lines that marked completed beers, “You won by five beers before you conked out. Not bad, although you better choose your favor carefully. 23 to 28, say Kurz you got more backbone that even I thought. Ole Sousuke would prolly agree, but seeing as he’s been turned to mush by Kaname I can’t trust his judgment.” Melissa smoothly concluded.
“It’s the first drop that destroys you, there’s no harm at all in the last. The Irish know as much about drinking as we Germans do brewing.” Kurz remarked.
Melissa abruptly got up, flicked on the lights and pulled something from her personal fridge.
She had two glasses, and handed one to Kurz. It plopped and fizzed, and smelled vaguely like Seltzer Water.
“Here Kurzie, Take this for your hangover. I’ve got plenty left, so drink it all. Bottoms Up”
“How about a toast Melissa?” He had a hopeful look, which momentarily flickered over his pain ridden face.
“Why the hell not? I’ve never seen an idiot be so formal about a hangover. ” Melissa was only joking about the idiot part. She usually was, but sometimes Kurz deserved that designation.
“Alright, to idiots and their COs, past, present, and future. May each be better than the one that came before it.” Kurz had no idea why he said that, but it had seemed fitting.
“To idiots and their COs.” They clinked glasses and both downed their drink, coughing on the way down, the taste was revolting, but the relief was anything but. The toast was rather poignant for Melissa, and she shed a few tears.
“Melissa, What did I do now? We never did get to talk, you wanna go first?” Kurz was becoming more perceptive as days went on, plus he didn’t want to invite his conscience back into the fray.
“You did nothing Kurz. I guess I should begin where you will. I was born in Brooklyn as you might know.”
“Certainly explains your way of doing things, and Gung-Ho attitude.” Kurz cracked. Melissa calmly drew her pistol, and pointed at the German’s head.
“Wanna hear me pour my heart or not? I’m not gonna take wisecracks on my childhood from my friends, and tolerate it.” Melissa was all business, and Kurz got the idea, rather quickly.
The moment that passed between them was strongly akin to that of when the Germans and the Russians endured hellish conditions during the siege of Leningrad. You had to acknowledge when you were beat, or both parties would suffer. Kurz did the right thing.
“It was inconsiderate of me, I’m sorry.” Motivation was aplenty, seeing as a gun was pointed at his head.
Melissa continued, resolute to tell this story to a friend.
‘It needs to be told anyway, someone else needs to hear it, Kurz is just the guy. He’s also the only one besides Sousuke and Tessa I’d tell it to.’
“Being born in Chinatown, my family was associated with the Jung Ha Triad. My father was a Jung Ha enforcer, and my brothers had no smallest brother to pass knowledge unto, so I became somewhat of a tomboy. An extremely good looking tomboy, which later caused me some grief. My friends and I were lucky to survive 2 months together. They were usually deported or vanished, because the Triad viewed them as failures. Most of the Chinese that came over were illegals. My parents were lucky, and were nationalized citizens.” Melissa paused and waited for any comments from the usually garrulous Kurz. There were none, he had a rather intense look on his face, and motioned for her to continue.
“Eventually I turned 18 and was pursued quite aggressively by suitors, and Triad officials. I shucked them all off, I had no interest in hustlers or shallow assholes at this point. The last straw was one of them demanded I be a ‘working girl’ of his. You can imagine the consequences. I shot him, and castrated the bastard. This didn’t endear me to his associates, who tried to murder my parents as revenge. My brothers and I lead a NYPD taskforce to the Headquarters of the Jung Ha. Anyone who had a grudge against us was in that building, and we wiped ‘em all out. My brothers became employed in the NYPD as consultants, and instructors. It fit them, they had been teaching combat ever since I could walk. My parents moved to White Plains, and enjoyed the solitude that was there. I lacking a community or place to go joined the Marines. I hoped that they would serve as my new family. My parents disapproved of my methods, and were disappointed I was not the proper Chinese daughter, and my brothers eventually got involved in their work. We sort of drifted apart.” She paused again, to gather her thoughts and to the next and most painful part of her story.
“Believe Melissa, I can sympathize with having no family, or not being close enough.” Kurz remarked. ‘More than you’ll ever know, Kurz Weber has been a loner.’
“The hard part was mail call for the recruits. Everyone else got something from home in my barracks. I was one of the few who didn’t. It was a real heartbreaker hearing people talk about their families, and then asking me. I mostly ignored them, or gave them some BS answer. I was too prideful to tell the truth. After the joke they called basic training, I was actually transferred to a men’s combat unit. I was inundated. When you’ve got hormonally driven men around, hitting on you, you sort of develop a keep away nature. Any kind of flirtatious attempt is met with a fist or some cold words. It sorta carried over into Mithril, and I’d like to apologize for some of the more unprovoked smacks I’ve given you.”
“Not a problem.” was all Kurz said in reply.
“One of the many things I did well in Basic Training was get into trouble. I was hotheaded, cocksure, and skilled. My instructors quickly gave me challenging stuff and leadership opportunities. It helped my maturity level greatly being in command. I felt a huge sense of responsibility, and it helped more than I admit sometimes. Although they were not happy about me hot-wiring an APC from the motor pool, to use in a supposedly infantry exercise. I didn’t feel like crossing barbed wired that day, so I did for the next 3. The guys respected me after that, left me alone too: didn’t wanna associate with someone who pissed the brass off. ”
“Anyway, I had vehicle skills unparalleled in boots, so they decided to include me in the power armor test program. Sorta the little brother to the Arm Slave, no black technology, it was more like an Exo-suit than anything. Pretty effective too, States has been pretty vigilant in guarding its tech though, only sharing it with Israel and other NATO nations. Haven’t been in one of those things since systems testing, so when the next upgrade to the M-6 came out, I signed up to be a test pilot. Got some valuable experience there, and requested a transfer to a Commando/M-6 squadron. I was accepted, and I met Joseph Drake, The stupid bastard.”
Melissa stopped to wipe some tears away, but Kurz proffered a handkerchief instead. She took it gratefully. Since when was Kurz so openly sympathetic and understanding?
“Melissa, I may be a bit of a flirt, but I know when to shut-up and respect someone. This drake guy still around? I need to track him down compare notes, and then beat him up.” Kurz was being the friendly lecher, again. He winced, that probably was not the right thing to say.
“You wouldn’t need to compare notes much Kurz. He had an approach that was pretty similar. Instead of being insulting, he was a complete gentleman. He never went to fast for me to handle, and was very understanding. I fell in love with him. I was the cool and composed one, and he was full of passion and zest. He was dogged in his pursuit of me. I must have turned him down 20 times, before I finally relented. He made me loosen up a little, come out of shell y’know? It was one of the reasons I cared so much about the guy. I might have been content without him, but I wasn’t happy. We experienced so much together, just normal relationship things, that I had never done. I thought it was a match made in heaven; until Iran.”
Kurz remained deep in thought. Melissa was a little restrained, but she could let go and have fun.
“He snapped in Iran. It was a search and destroy mission, in exchange for intelligence from the Israelis, we’d run S&D on those targets. One of these was a radical Iranian cleric who stirring up trouble in Turkey, and a city about 50 miles east of Tehran was his home-base. We had to eliminate him, his supporters, and his successors. Joseph and I were paired together for this mission, and when he saw children with AKs and RPGs he started babbling about his family in Poland. He instinctively wiped that group of young suicide soldiers out, and never came out of the hole the alcohol dragged him into.” Melissa looked pensive.
“He had barely escaped genocide at the hands of Anti-Jewish fanatics. He got lucky; He was at a Rammstein concert. The soviets were looking for enemies of state, and had every Jew in his city executed. He was one of the few survivors. His entire family was killed, like Sousuke’s.” Melissa paused. “Only he handled it better than Sousuke. Sousuke just let his humanity fall into disrepair, and it’s now finally coming out. Joseph kept his emotions and feelings intact. Only he was an alcoholic when he needed to forget what happened. This ended up ruining the both of us.” Melissa looked like she was ready to break down for an instant. She quickly shoved the pain away, and saw Kurz had a worried look on his face.
“Look Sis, You can stop anytime you want. Besides I don’t want my overactive imagination to start to dream of cliché possibilities although pleasant, would be inappropriate.” Kurz was telling the truth. ‘In the movies after this sort of talk, the characters would comfort each other and have hot sex! Yah!’
“We were in Tibet, running a commando mission to capture the infrastructure of a Chi-Comm base. We needed to hit the communications tower, ammo depot, and the motor pool. Then we could help a border town effectively declare independence. With the supplies from the base, it could have held out long enough for international aid. The Chinese would have folded, and Tibet might have taken a step closer to becoming a free nation.” She paused and began to shudder. Kurz became very concerned. Melissa was the veritable rock, and was even more imperturbable than Sousuke.
“Joseph had nightmares before the mission. A pal had unwittingly put Feuer Frei on over the loudspeakers. Combined with memories of the Rammstein concert, and the lyrics message, Joseph was severely shaken up.” Kurz had heard this song, he thought of the song as Melissa continued.
Whoever knows pain is dangerous
from the fire that burns the soul
bang bang
the burned child is dangerous
with fire that separates from the life
a hot cry
bang bang
Open fire!
Your happiness
is not my happiness
it is my misery
“I had to comfort him that night before the Mission. I loved the man, and couldn’t stand to see him like that, and Joseph was integral to that mission, he and I each had command of a platoon, and he was demolitions. The mission was proceeding as planned until our CO got hit by a sniper’s bullet. We were all wearing NVGs and Joseph in his drunken haze, ran out to confront the man. He was noticed and mortar fire ripped our squad. I was lucky, as I was leading the platoon away because Joseph blew away our position. I was the only survivor of that platoon. I managed to save Joseph and drag him outta there. Then it came time for the debriefing and court martial. I couldn’t let Joseph take the fall for what happened. It would make him a husk of what he once was. I…I…loved him too much for that. So I said I assumed command and ordered Joseph out to get rid of the sniper. That lie earned me a dishonorable discharge. And then…Joseph scorned me…the goddamn fool believed my testimony, and was too goddamn drunk to know the difference. So I chucked out that period of my life, and made a vow, never to lose any men due to command negligence again. That’s why I was desperate to rescue you and Sousuke in Khanka. I couldn’t let you two die Damnit!” Melissa started shaking uncontrollably and sobbing. This was a tumultuous period in her life, obviously one which had influenced her future actions and behaviors.
Kurz grasped that Melissa needed comfort, and the only thing that mattered was to alleviate her sorrow. He hugged her to himself and let her tears flow, all the while whispering comforting words into her ear. Kurz had his arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders, and had let her cry unto his shoulder. He moved gently as if one might rock a child. She continued to clutch at him as if he was the only thing there. He moved his right arm up, and ran his fingers through her hair unconsciously. All of this was unconscious for Kurz, none of this was planned, and he found himself reacting in manners he thought he never could. He also found he cared for Melissa a lot more than even he had thought.
‘Guess I should give myself more credit. The great Kurz Weber can be more than a lecher eh?’
As he thought that, his hand started to creep towards Melissa’s absolutely sublime rear. He was on the verge of pinching it, when he found himself thrown across the room and landed on his head with a thud. With a rather surprised expression on his face, he managed to squeak out. “Sorry Sis”
Melissa wiped her face, and snuffed. She her eyes were still puffy and red from her crying but she had a grateful smile on her face.
“I should thank you Weber. Not only did you comfort me in my time of weakness, but you shocked me back into reality. For that I won’t beat you to a pulp.” Melissa glared at the dumbfounded sergeant.
‘Melissa looks so different when she’s upside down. I can see more of her cleavage!’ Thought Kurz, and remembered he needed to close his jaw, before Melissa did it for him.
He did, and righted himself, with his knees crossed. He wondered if Melissa was going to ask him to tell his side of the story.
He began haltingly “It all started with a bureaucratic mix-up when my father moved to Edogawa…”
XXXXXXX
