Chapter 7: Turning Point       "I hate her. I really hate her." moaned Merck. Jaster Lazine made no visable response to the comment. Nicole Sharp remained silent as well, not wanting to encourage Merck any further. Their restricted duty had finally been lifted. And they were spending their free time in the mess hall, lingering after the dinner they had just consummed. "I mean she's so smug, so self assured, so pompous! I just want to..." Merck clenched her fists, emitting a deep sort of growl as she did so. Feeling a tiny bit better from the display's cathartic value, she relaxed her hands. "You're just upset she outsmarted you." stated Jaster matter-of -factly. Merck eyed him, "And you should be to. It's because of her we don't have Camden in the squad anymore." Sharp shook her head slightly. Clearly the conversation's latest tangent did not sit well with her. Jaster shared her sentiment. "Really? Are you so sure of that?"       "Yes!" was Merck's immediate response. "Who's side are you on anyway?"       "I'm not on any 'side'." replied Lazine. "She does her job. She does it well. That is enough for me."       Merck's left hand balled into a fist and she slammed it on top of the table. "I cannot believe you!" Her eyes fell on Sharp. "What about you?" Sharp stared back for a moment, contemplating exactly how much info she should share when she responded. "Just leave her alone." Merck's face contorted into a shape that clearly indicated rage. "Fine. I don't need any help from you two anyway." She stood up, turned, and stomped out of the mess hall. * * *       After a bit of thought Janson came to the conclusion that her meeting with the Admiral went rather well. While he would not pursue the mystery ship Maya had found, the incident would be reported. And that's really what she wanted all along. "You seemed pleased then?" questioned Arsis. Janson nodded. "Not just about what happened with the Admiral though." She gazed out the nearby viewport, feeling well about her new assignment for the first time since she got there. "Everything is finally starting to come together." Arsis gave his chin a thoughtful rub.       "Not everything, Lieutenant."       Janson turned her attention away from the stars and back to the lounge and Arsis. "You're talking about Merck, aren't you?" He nodded.       "While there may be some cause for concern there, I doubt it would be anything that would interfere on a mission."       "You're not worried she will start trouble then?" asked Arsis.       "Not really. Mostly because it usually takes two people to cause trouble and Sterling seems far too level headed to be drawn in by her."       Arsis crossed his hands. "Perhaps. But I do not feel you should underestimate Merck's resolve."       Janson pointed a mechanical finger at him. "Or perhaps, you shouldn't underestimate Sterling's. I've been keeping an eye on her. She wants to make this assignment work and she doesn't strike me as the type to give up easily."       "True." conceded Arsis. "I suppose time will tell us...one way or another."       "Is this seat taken?" Arsis and Janson looked up from their table. A woman stood there, one hand gently resting on an empty seat. Janson remembered her from her first day on board. She had not seen her since.       "No, please sit."       The woman sat down, resting one hand on the table as she did so. "So, how are things?"       The question was directed at Arsis, who - oddly enough - acted as though he knew her. "Fine. And you?"       Janson immediately interrupted. "You two know each other?"       "Yes." replied the woman. "Though I have not seen Arsis in quite a while. And the last time I did, I wasn't nearly this old."       "Time has treated you well." offered Arsis.       "Not as well as some." retorted the woman.       Arsis stood as he replied. "Sadly, we will have to talk another time, I have duties to attend to. Good day." He gave a slight bow as he excused himself. He walked away before Janson could speak, leaving her question for the only other person who could answer.       "Where do you know Arsis from?"       "Oh from years ago." she stated with a wave of the hand. "He's still as big as I remember him. Does he still carry that big rifle of his?"       Janson nodded. "Yes, he does."       The woman nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. "Those were the days."       "I wouldn't know." commented Janson.       A smile crept onto the face across from Janson before she replied. "No I suppose you wouldn't." She gave Janson a pat on the biological hand, "So how are things?"       Iris felt a tad like he was talking to her mother as she began to answer, "Going really well. I'll admit things were a bit shaky at first but now I feel things are really coming together."       "Really?" said the woman with a raise of her eyebrow. "I had heard you lost one of your troops."       Iris nodded. "Yeah, Alex Camden, our exo-tech. He got himself hurt on shore leave but he'll be fine. He just needs time to recover. In the meantime, we have replacement pilot."       "And how is she doing?"       Iris seemed a bit perplexed by the question. "Doing? She's an exceptional officer. And things are staying ship-shape, so I have no complaints."       "Savor it kiddo." Iris shot her a questioning glance. "It never seems to last - the complacency - so you should learn to savor it when it comes along." The woman rapped a knuckle on the table before standing. "Well, I should get going. Try to remember what I told you, okay?" Iris nodded as she walked away. Just as she left the lounge the thought occurred to her that she still had not managed to find out her name. Something to learn next time then. mused Janson taking one last look out the viewport. * * *       If one were to twist logic just a bit, then one could rationalize that Tasha had every right to hate Alex Camden. After all, she was compared to the man from the moment she set foot on board. However, Tasha was a very logical person. She realized that none of what had happened thus far was Camden's fault and therefore she should not hold anything against him. In truth, Alex Camden proved to be everything the squad said he was. A brilliant technologist, he could probably fix and/or improve any machine known to man...and a few that weren't. However, she did find one part of his profile not very fitting. Maya had told her Camden seemed distracted most of the time, even shy. She also mentioned that holding a conversation with him was often difficult because his mind wandered so readily. The Alex Camden she had just spent the last hour with was intensely focused and downright chatty. Which is not to say that she found him bothersome, on the contrary, his enthusiasm was engaging and almost impossible to shun - let alone ignore.       Tasha was never one to make friends with ease, so she was somewhat unfamiliar with the concept. But she was fairly certain she had just made her first. And it felt good, really good, to the point that she was now walking the hallways with a noticeable smile on her face. For anyone who truly knew her, such an occurrence was usually regarded as a sign of the apocalypse. Maya had been Tasha's closest friend for the past four years and could count the number of times she had seen her smile on one hand. And that was saying more than most, considering Maya only had three digits on each hand. Needless to say she was shocked to discover that she would now have to use the digits of both hands to keep track.       "Dear god, you killed her didn't you? You killed Merck?" spurted out Maya. Tasha passed her undaunted.       "No." she replied.       Maya did a quick 180 to follow. "Then what's with...that!" she said pointing to Tasha's mouth.       "It's a smile."       "I know that, but what are you doing with it?"       Tasha shrugged as she walked. "Can't I just smile for no reason?"       "No!" stated Maya with a very emphatic shake of the head.       "According to who?" asked Tasha.       "I don't know, someone though."       "Well not me." replied Tasha as she glanced back at her. Maya seemed satisfied with that response as she halted a moment before heading off in her own direction. There's hope for that girl yet.       Tasha continued on towards the Able Squad hanger, her conversation with Camden gave her a whole host of new ideas and she wanted to see if she could implement any of them. To her surprise, the hanger was not empty. There appeared to be five or six people in it. None of them were e-frame pilots. Tasha neither slowed her pace or changed her disposition. She wasn't sure who they were or why they were there, and quite frankly, she did not want to care about it. Her visitors, on the other hand, wanted to her to care about it. They stood clustered by her e-frame, as if in wait for her. As she approached, one stepped toward her - clearly to have words. "Hi, can I help you?" asked Tasha, coming to a halt. Her voice was surprisingly perky, even to Tasha herself. The man in front of her seemed taken back a bit by it. It wasn't what he expected. It only lasted a moment though. "Name's Paterson. Assigned to Gamma Platoon, infantry." Tasha gave him a once over. Paterson sounded a bit gruff and he had the looks to match. He was 6 foot, putting him at exactly Tasha's height. He was also a rather big fellow, the sort that could intimidate on sight. "You're a long way from the dropship hanger, Paterson." Paterson shrugged. "Got lost I guess." He scratched his temple. Apparently that was a signal to his friends because they began to fan out and surround Tasha. She brought her hands behind her back, holding her right hand in her left. Standing loosely, she put most of her weight on her back leg. It gave her the appearance of being very much at ease. "I'd be happy to help you find it." Paterson let lose an annoyed sort of smile, at the same time stifling something that might have been a light chuckle. "I'm sure you would. But I think we need to have chat first." He placed a hand on her left shoulder giving it a very heavy squeeze. Several thoughts passed through Tasha's head at that moment, most of them violent. But then suddenly she had epiphany and decided to go with a course of action that was completely contrary to her instincts. She brought her right hand out from behind her back and up to her left shoulder. Grabbing Paterson's right hand, she gently lifted it from her left shoulder and placed it on her right. At the same time she slide her arm around his waist and drew herself to his side. "Okay, let's go down to the lounge though. I'll buy." There were a number of things Paterson expected at this point. This wasn't one of them. And it clearly showed on his face. "Uh-I..."       "You're friends can come too. That way we can all have a nice chat." She started toward the door, leading Paterson with her. The others sat still for a half a second, not sure what to do. "She did say she was buying, right?" asked one. "Yup." said another. They waited half a second longer, then followed their own instincts.       "Wait up!" * * *       "You did what?" demanded Sharp. "Nothing that she didn't deserve." stated Merck flatly. Sharp had picked up on the fact something was very wrong right from the moment Merck knocked at her door. She was looking for company to go to the lounge. That in itself was not so wrong. But Merck had an unusual smile on her face when she did it. It was the kind of smile that suggested if she were feline, than she just had a big avian meal. Given how their last conversation had ended it was not hard to imagine why she might have such a smile on her face. Under normal circumstances this was usually something she tried to stay out of. However, since she knew who Merck was messing with - and Merck obviously did not - she felt obligated to find out what was going on and if possible, stop it. Sharp exchanged glances with Lazine who was situated right behind Merck. "You realize you may have destroyed your military career?" Merck waved the comment off, seeming barely concerned as she replied, "The boys will never finger me, even if they do get caught. And that's a very big 'if'."       "I think your making a very big mistake." noted Sharp.       Merck rolled her eyes, "You've been careful not to express any opinions, Kiddo, don't be starting now, K?"       "What did you do?" demanded Sharp as she stepped forward and into Merck's face.       "Are you trying to intimidate me?" blurted out Merck. Sharp didn't respond, she simply stared. Merck burst out laughing. "Stick to the country mouse routine, Kiddo. Cause you sure can't do the rough soldier bit!" She gave her a clap on the shoulder before trotting down the hall.       "Come with us." stated Lazine.       "Why?" asked Sharp, not wanting any part of Merck at the moment.       "Merck is brash. This is true. But she is also arrogant and likes to talk. Given time, I am sure I can find out what she is up to. When I do, we can put a stop to it." He extended his hand. "Assuming your bruised ego can handle being around her for a bit longer."       Sharp stared blankly. "According to her," she stated as she took his hand in her own, "I don't have an ego. So what will it hurt?"       Lazine smiled, "Then let us go." * * *       The shape of a hulking jumptrooper - uncomfortable with each step he made - slowly but surely made its way into view. Leaning heavily on the wall for support, he edged his way past Merck and the others saying little more than a short, indecipherable phrase of some sort. Merck clearly recognized him and was disturbed by the state she saw him in. Sharp was also concerned - concerned that Merck had finally pushed Sterling to her breaking point. Merck hurried her pace. That trooper came from the lounge, which meant that was where Merck needed to be.       The door slide open, revealing the other jumptroopers Merck had asked to 'talk' with Tasha. They greeted her warmly. Shouting "Angie!" as they recognized her. Sharp relaxed at that point. All of them were obviously inebriated - instead of punch drunk as she had previously assumed. More surprising was the fact Tasha was with them. Her arm draped around the biggest of the lot, she gladly cheered Merck's entrance by hoisting her drink with the rest and downing its contents. They promptly dropped their empty glasses on the bar, deciding it was time to call it a night. Several of them patted Merck on the soldier as they left, saying "Later, Angie" or words to that effect. The large jumptrooper, Paterson, lingered behind for a while. "Got to go." he said, giving Tasha a big hug before heading out. "Next shore leave though, you're coming out with us." He said as he waved a finger. Glancing at Merck and the others, he added, "Bring the rest of the Squad too." "Sure thing." replied Tasha. He gave Merck a clap on the shoulder before leaving. The thought occurred to Merck that she should follow Paterson, if only to ask what had happened. But she was too stunned to do so. Tasha wandered over to her giving her a playful tap on the shoulder. "Great bunch of guys they are. Thanks for sending them by." Merck's jaw hung open. Clenching her fists, she engaged in a quick tactical retreat from the lounge and back to her quarters. Tasha watched her go in the company of Sharp and Lazine.       "There's an odd one for ya."       "Are you...okay?" asked Sharp.       Tasha wrapped an arm around Lazine, glancing at him in the process. "This isn't a come on, it's just that I can't stand on my own any more."       "How many times have you done this?" asked Lazine.       "Counting this time? Once."       He laughed out loud, apparently impressed with her fortitude. He wrapped an arm around her waist and steadied her. "Well done."       "Thanks." muttered Tasha. "Would you mind getting me back to my quarters?" she asked.       "Certainly, Lieutenant." On to Chapter 8 ->