Chapter 3: Down Time       Admiral Takagi sat behind his desk, feeling quite pleased with the way everything had turned out. Lt. Janson stood in front. The expression on her face showed far less enthusiasm.       "I've read the reports and debriefed some of the station crew. I know enough about this operation to officially declare it a success."       "So why did you ask me here, Admiral?"       He neatly folded his hands and sat back in his chair. "I want to know your assessment of the mission." Janson sort of shrugged saying, "We saved the crew and the station."       "I know that. Tell me your feelings on the mission." prodded the Admiral. "I didn't like it." stated Janson without a moment's hesitation. "Go on." Janson clasped her hands behind her back as she continued. "Sir, we were put together as a unit only minutes before our first mission. I had no idea what any of the members of my squad could do. We were thoroughly unprepared for this mission and I feel it showed in our performance." "The mission was a success, Lieutenant." pointed out the Admiral. "This time." countered Janson. "I would not wagger on the next mission." The admiral leaned forward as he said, "And how much time would you need to correct this situation?"       "I would prefer a month but I will settle for 3 standard weeks." replied Janson. "You have one." Janson opened her mouth to protest but the Admiral cut her off.       "That's all I can offer you. Dismissed." * * *       Janson let her guard down once the door to the Admiral's office slid shut. She breathed deeply, letting her lips vibrate towards the end of the exhale. "Your combustion engine impression?" Janson turned around to see to see the pleasant face of Captain Remes. "Uh, no sir. I just..." "The officer's lounge is three decks down from here. I recommend you make a stop there." offered the Captain. "Yes sir." replied Janson as she excused herself.       The walk over gave Janson a little time to think. She trusted the Admiral's judgment but at the same time she strongly felt that rushing along the development of the squad would bring nothing but disaster. Crossing her arms as the elevator doors opened, she slowly walked toward the door to the officer's lounge. Her mind considered a number of different possibilities. None of them seemed like a good solution. The doors to the lounge slid apart revealing the large room beyond. There were the usual comforts, a few couches, tables, chairs, refresher stations in the back. Then there was the bar. Though it was designed in such a way to appear like a good spot to drown sorrows in your preferred poison. It was nothing more than a glorified juice stand. While real drinks were obtainable, the bartender had to run your I.D. through the computer first. If you were posted for duty within 36 hours your request would be denied. If you didn't have to report for duty in the next 36 hours then chances were that you were on shore leave and wouldn't be on the ship to begin with. Janson took a seat at the end of the bar. When the server approached she requested some water. She sat thoughtfully by herself for several minutes - not speaking to any of the other occupants, of which there were many. Her water had a lemon slice in it, presumably to add a hint of flavor to it. A toothpick running through the lemon slice held it suspended over the mouth of the glass. Janson removed it and watched thoughtfully as the lemon slowly sank to the bottom of the glass.       Holding the toothpick in her left hand, she tapped it lightly on the tip of her bionic index finger. With little more than a thought, the fingertip extended into a fine edge. Janson widdled away at the toothpick, hoping it would take her mind of things for a short while. It did not.       "Neat toy."       Janson glanced up from what she was doing. Her finger reflexively returned to its default configuration. "Excuse me?" An older woman had taken a seat beside her. She had a glass of water much like Janson's. And like Janson's it was mostly full. "Your little wood working kit there. It looks kind of neat." she said. "I guess it can be. I discover new uses for it all the time." The woman placed her water neatly on the bar. "You're the new commander of Able Squad, aren't you?" Janson looked surprised. "How did you know?" "The tell-tale look of stress is always a dead give away." replied the woman. "How do you know so much about it?" asked Janson. "I have something of a history with the previous version. So what's got you down?" Janson just sort of shrugged. "Things." she mumbled. "What kind of things?" asked the woman. "The Admiral is just pushing me too much, that's all." "On the first day?" asked the woman. "Yeah, he just wants too much from us too soon." The woman cocked an eyebrow, "Are you sure its too much?" "No, and that's the problem. I don't know anything - not about the squad or its individual members. I just don't know what they are capable of and he expects that I do." The woman stood, took a big gulp from her water, and placed the glass gently back on the bar top. "If you don't know, maybe you should spend some time trying to find out." She added "But that's just my opinion." as she strode past Janson, heading for the door. Janson considered the words for a bit, finding a certain truth in them. Iris turned around to say something to her new friend but discovered she was already gone. * * *       "Just a little more." whispered Maya. She carefully manipulated the dial to her right, turning it to the left less than a single degree. Since returning from her first mission, Maya had downloaded the data from her sensor log to one of the Resolute's computer analysis labs. From there she began running an entire series of comprehensive tests. As impressive as the Jamming Bird was, it did not have all the optional extras of a well equipped computer lab.       "Still looks the same to me."       Maya jumped back from the controls, her head whipping around in the process. "Who?" Captain Remes stood behind her, calmly peering over her shoulder. "At ease Lieutenant. I'm just observing." "Oh." replied Maya. She slowly turned back to the controls. The image on the monitor in front of her was grainy, fuzzy, and flickered from time to time. She had been working on clarifying the problem for over an hour. Based on what Captain Remes saw, it appeared that Maya had made little headway. "Is this what you saw on your last mission, Lieutenant?" Maya continued to play with the controls in front of her. Flicking some switches and turning a few more knobs. "Yes sir." "You know, Lieutenant, a long time ago I was something of a sensor jockey. I learned something very important in that time that I think you need to hear." "Yes sir." replied Maya as she turned yet another knob. The Captain place a hand on her shoulder, prompting Maya to look up at him. "Sometimes you just have to let things go." Maya stared back at him for a moment, taking the time to choose her words carefully. "I don't think this is one of those times sir." The Captain smiled as he released her shoulder. "Ah, to be young again." he mused as he headed for the door. Maya stared after him for a short while then went back to work. * * *       "To our first successful mission." proposed Merck. "May there be many more." added Sharp. Merck, Sharp, and Lazine tapped there glasses together then began to down the their contents. Camden sat with them but something off in the far corner of the room captivated him. The Resolute had reached planet Chaos about three hours ago. The ship was scheduled to remain in port for another couple of days. This gave all non-essential crew a two day pass. Thrilled at the prospect of spending time on what was often referred to as the first pirate planet, Lazine hopped on the first shuttle he could find. Not one to let him go alone, Merck followed with Sharp in tow. Camden tagged along for reasons that probably only made sense to himself. Lazine had chosen the bar, so naturally it was the kind of atmosphere that most found questionable. Lazine, on the other hand, thrived in such an environment. He was welcomed with open arms the moment he entered. Though Merck had no way to prove it, she was certain it wasn't the first time Lazine had been there.       Lazine slammed his glass onto the circular table he and his squad mates were clustered about. "Another round!" he bellowed. A server approached swiftly with more of the native brew. As she placed the new glasses on the table and collected the used ones, Lazine set his eyes on Merck. "Something got your attention?" she asked. "I was just thinking that perhaps you should wait before drinking this round. What with your delicate fleet constitution and all." Merck cocked an eyebrow, whether the comment amused or angered her was anyone's guess. "Don't worry about me bandana head." She slapped Sharp's shoulder. "The farm girl here is another matter." Sharp just politely shook her head. "Hey, I never claimed I could keep up with anyone. I'm just here for a leisurely beverage or two." Lazine smirked after hearing her response. He turned his head to the right, eying Camden. "And what of you?" Camden, however, was in a world all his own. He lazily turned his attention to Lazine, perhaps a little irked that someone chose to intrude on his little slice of reality. "What?" Merck chuckled, finding a certain degree of humor in what had become Camden's standard response to a direct question. "Are you going to drink with us?" asked Lazine. "Oh, I don't drink." replied Camden. He got up from his seat and headed towards whatever it was he was looking at before. Sharp planted a hand on the table top and pushed herself upright. "I'll keep an eye on him." Lazine picked up Camden's untouched beverage. "I'll never understand that tech." "I don't think anyone ever will." stated Merck as she took the glass from him and chugged the liquid from it. She slammed the glass down next to another that was previously full. She stared expectantly across the table at Lazine. "This ain't no afternoon tea party, Lazine. Down that thing so we can get another round." Lazine smiled, raising his own glass at the same time. "Cheers."       Camden found himself at the end of the bar, staring intently at the machine in the corner. Sharp stood just behind him. "Something on your mind, Lieutenant?" To Sharp's surprise he seemed to hear her the first time. "Its an old-style audio machine. I''ve read about them but I've never seen one before." Sharp waved to the barkeep prompting him to come to her end of the bar. "What can I get for ya little miss?" Sharp pointed to the machine which held Camden's total attention. "Does this thing work?" The barkeep shook his head. "Nah, the jukebox hasn't worked in years. We keep it around for ambiance." "Would you mind if I had a look at it?" asked Camden. The barkeep looked Camden over before asking, "What will it cost me?" "Cost?" asked Camden, as if the concept of someone actually paying for his services were totally alien to him. Sharp took it upon herself to answer for him. "He doesn't want money, he just likes to fix things." The barkeep glanced from Sharp to Camden, who was drooling like a small child over the prospect of obtaining a new toy. "Knock yourself out." Camden darted to the machine, pulling a screw driver from a pocket on the inside lining of his vest. Sharp wondered what else he had hidden under there as he set to work at getting the front panel off. Sharp watched him closely for a bit, wondering how someone could take such joy in what was essentially a mundane and repetitive task. She shrugged, saying to herself "The boy loves his work." * * *       Iris Janson arrived in the hanger hoping to find some trace of her squad. After numerous failed attempts to locate them elsewhere, it was a refreshing change of pace to actually find someone. Truth be told, Janson had fully expected to find Alex Camden. So she was surprised that the only squad member there was Arsis. He was lounging on the wing of Janson's fighter, a datapad in one hand. She walked over to him. "Greetings Lieutenant." Janson looked up to him. Arsis sat upright with one leg dangling over the wing's edge. "Sergeant. Would you happen to know where the rest of the squad is?" "The planet surface. Is something amiss?" "No. Not at all, I just thought I should check up on them. Would you care to join me?" Arsis shook his head. "I do not think that would be appropriate." Janson tilted her head as she asked, "Why not?" "I would rather join them." stated Arsis. Janson's first instinct was to correct his obvious translation error. But then the thought occurred to her that perhaps Arsis was actually offering a subtle suggestion. His face was unreadable, or at least it seemed that way to Janson. Intentional or not, the message wasn't lost on her. "Let's do that then." * * *       The release was light, leading to a perfectly arced toss. The dart struck dead center, wedging itself tightly into the board. "Bullseye." announced Merck. It was her third in a row. Sharp had decided to stay out of the game all together. Her reason being that unless the target was directly below her, she couldn't hit it. Merck found the the comment quite humorous and totally befitting a bomber pilot like Sharp. Lazine didn't really care one way or another. He was just aching for an opportunity to make Merck look bad. However, since the game started one had not presented itself. Lazine had seen some examples of Merck's marksmanship before. She was good. He would never admit it - even if tortured - but it was true. Being an old hand at tossing sharp implements while intoxicated, he figured the current situation would provide him with the perfect opportunity to finally show her up. With her third consecutive bullseye Merck had essentially squashed that little pipe dream. The fact that she was handling her booze just as well as he was not helping matters either. "That just isn't natural." blurted Sharp. Merck shot her a glance followed by a smirk. "Believe it farm girl." Sharp just shook her head. "She's smaller than I am and I can't aim that well sober." Lazine paused while pulling the last dart of the board. "Good point." He pulled the last dart free and turned toward Merck. She stared at him expectantly. "You gonna hand 'em over or what?" "Something is not right here." stated Lazine. "Yeah, you have all the darts. Now hand 'em over!" demanded Merck. "No." said Lazine. "Sharp is right. No man can remain so accurate after that many drinks." Merck nodded. "You know, you're right. No MAN can." She thrust her hand out, once again demanding the darts. "You're cheating." stated Lazine. "I am not!" shouted Merck. Her face turning an unhappy red. "You have to be." "Why? Cause I'm winning? That's a load of scrap and you know it!"       "Quiet yourself fleet trash or you'll find yourself limping home." Merck spun on the voice, which came from the bar. "Who said that!?" A group of six rose from their stools. All of them were men, big men at that. Short haired and a tad scruffy looking, they looked a bit like Lazine might if he were out of uniform. Merck strode right up to the largest one, who bent down quite a bit so he could look her in the eye. "You got some nerve, brush head." The larger man ran his fingers through his short blond hair, as if to make sure Merck was talking about him. "You're a few seconds away from a trip to the hospital, little girl." Lazine was torn about what to do up until now. The six men in front of him had some pirate heritage, and he wanted to respect that. On the other hand, Merck - pain in the butt she might be - was his squadmate. And any unanswered insult given to her reflected badly on him. Left with really no other choice, he decided to get involved. He placed a firm hand on Merck's shoulder pushing her back and forcing himself between her and her would be assailant. "You threaten her, you threaten me." Unfazed by Lazine's counter-threat, the bruiser stared hard into Lazine's eyes - waiting for him to flinch. Merck, in the meantime, wasn't about to let anyone fight her battles for her. She stepped forward and rammed her foot upward, square into the crouch of Lazine's opponent. He screamed - hitting a much higher tenure than one would suspect he were capable of - before falling backward onto the floor. His five companions were in motion shortly afterward. "Now you've done it!" blurted out Lazine as he went into a defensive posture.       The first one came in fast with a hard right hook. Jaster Lazine easily ducked under it and countered with an uppercut. His opponent staggered back, allowing his friend the come barreling in. Lazine tried to dodge but was caught at the waist and dragged to the floor. Sharp dropped her drink and yelled to Camden, "Lieutenant, we've got a problem!" She rushed forward to help Merck as Camden muttered something close to "Huh?" from the rusty innards of the jukebox. Finding no response to his query, he returned to what he was doing. Merck in the meantime was caught in a bear hug. She slammed her right heal down on the foot of her assailant. His grip loosened slightly allowing Merck to elbow his rib cage. His grip then loosened enough for Merck to free herself. Unwilling to let her get away, the man once holding her threw a punch that Merck easily ducked under. Sharp - who was rushing to help - did not. The punch caught her right across the face, spinning her like a top. She hit the ground bleeding, her mouth on fire from the pain. Groggy and disoriented she crawled back to the bar to get herself up. Another assailant, prescribing to the philosophy 'kick them while their down', had other ideas. With Sharp in perfect position, he proceeded to drop kick her head. Sharp spun onto her back unconscious, her forehead bleeding from a cut just below the hairline. A barbaric scream filled the bar as a human body came flying at Sharp's assailant. With no time to react, the two collided and crashed into the table behind them. Neither of them got up. Lazine, satisfied that he had dispatched two with one impressive feat of strength, quickly scanned the battlefield. Sharp was out of the fight. There was nothing he could do about that. Camden was apparently useless as well, though for different reasons. That left Merck busy with a pair in the corner. "Come 'ere!" Lazine's head snapped to his left as the missing protagonist finally showed himself. Charging right at him, Lazine calmly squatted down with arms outstretched. The man lined up perfectly for the set up. Lazine reached for the man's shirt and, using his own momentum, easily flipped him over his shoulder and over the bar. He crashed headlong into the bottled alcohol which lined the mirrored back wall. Shattering everything, he crashed to the floor, probably unconscious.       Merck plucked six darts from the table behind her, holding three in each hand. "Come get some, boys." she taunted. Number one rushed forward throwing a punch. Merck side-stepped it. Knowing he missed, number one spun delivering a backhand. Merck ducked under it and - as the man's forearm smashed against the wall - her left hand flicked out the three darts it held. They found there mark, pinning the arm by the sleeve to the wall. Not wanting to rip his sleeve, number one set about removing them one at a time. Number two came in from behind Merck, wrapping his arms around her. Merck flicked her right hand outward, sinking a dart into the right foot of her assailant. In pain, he released her. She brought her elbow up and connecting flawlessly with his nose. Number two fell to the ground with a splattered nose and hurting foot. He did not get up. Number one freed himself and charged her. Using her last two darts, Merck sunk one in each of his legs just below the knee. Number one stopped in his tracks reflexively clutching both knees. Crouched and defenseless, Merck quickly brought her left foot upward - duplicating the maneuver that put Sharp out of the fight.       "Not bad." stated Lazine. He sat quietly at the bar, enjoying the rest of his drink. "You could have helped." stated Merck. "You did not need it." replied Lazine. He chugged the rest of his drink and got up. "Help me with her." he said as he bent down to pick up Sharp. She moaned quietly as he swung her arm over his shoulder and lifted her up. Lazine glanced at Merck as he held Sharp up. "Behind you." Merck noted that the man who had received the business end of her foot to his groin was back up. The man paused briefly as music filled the air. Camden popped up from the corner he had been working. "It works! What happened out here?" Merck couldn't help but laugh. Taking full advantage of her momentary distraction, the man charged her. "Look out!" shouted Camden. He ran from the corner pointing behind Merck. Merck reacted in one smooth motion. She turned toward the charging man, planted her hands on the front of his shirt and rolled backward. As her back hit the ground her foot planted itself in his stomach. A second later Merck released him and he was in the air flying freely...toward Camden. There were a number of things Camden could have done at this point. But in the end it was something that was so distinctly him. "This may hurt." he said as the man collided with him sending the two through the door and outside. Merck immediately got to her feet and charged after them. Standing in the doorway, she saw her assailant sprawled out below her. There was a short staircase leading to the entrance of the bar. He and Camden had apparently taken the fall down it together. Though based on the moaning the man was doing, it sounded as though Camden had landed on top. Camden himself had apparently rolled onto the dirty metallic plating that passed as the street on Chaos. He slowly got up, rubbing his head. "I'm okay." Merck breathed a sigh of relief. Camden began walking back to the bar. He was halfway there when a speeding hovercar rammed into him. Camden bounced off the hood and slammed into the windshield as the hovercar came to screeching halt. Merck covered her open mouth as she watched it happen. She screamed back into the bar, "Someone call an ambulance!!!" On to Chapter 4 ->