Claire Takes On The Galaxy

Claire - Chapter Nineteen

The battle may have been won, but the details kept Claire and Lou out in the valley for two more days. Merc prisoners had to be taken back to base under guard and there were now only three working marine transporters. The bodies of soldiers on both sides had to be recovered – in some cases the various pieces found – and packed up for eventual, reverential disposal. This included poor Taylor’s body, which would be returned to her family on Earth. The valley also had to swept for Merc stragglers and the smashed equipment of both sides retrieved. Gone were the days when such remnants could be left to rust. Then there were debriefing sessions, which included Claire and Lou going through all their experiences in the tunnels.

As this work continued, Clou team met again the medic they had startled on the first day of the battle. She had been caught up, partly by accident, in the last stand platoon and taken prisoner.

“You guys scared the s**t out of me,” she said, when she saw them taking ration cans from a supply beast. As the only woman captured and a medic who could treat the many wounded still on the battlefield she had been left out of the prisoner details.

“Did your patient survive?” asked Claire.

The medic, Cora, shook her head. “Died that night – couldn’t do much for him with the equipment we had.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Oh, don’t be, not on my account anyway. I’m sorry for his family but Drew was a total pig. Brave maybe, but a pig. Now I’m more worried about what’ll happen to me.”

“They’ll send you back to Earth, but you may be hanging around a while unless they send a troop transporter.”

“I’ve never been to Earth,” said Cora, interested. She had joined the Mercs as a way out of the dreary mining settlement she had been raised in. “I don’t suppose the marines have camps near New York, London or Paris maybe – Paris sounds good.”

“Dream on, girl,” said Lou. “More likely you’ll get a camp in Siberia or northern Canada.”

“I heard about those,” said Claire, “above the Arctic circle – very cold, very remote; work details among the mining slag heaps.”

“It gets above freezing,” said Lou, “for a couple of days in summer.”

“I think you’re teasing me,” said Cora, and after that they became friends. She was most interested to hear, as she had before she met Clou team again, that both marines had local boyfriends. “Seems like more fun on your side,” she told them.

Later they saw her chatting animatedly to two male marines from The Two-One. As far as any of the marines were concerned once the job was done they had nothing against Mercs individually, and they especially did not have anything against lively, attractive brunette Merc medics. Clou team agreed that Cora would easily cope with being a prisoner of war.

Then Captain Chan called for them and told them they had to try to recover the bodies of the Merc dead in the tunnel.

“You want us to what.. sir?” exclaimed Lou.

“I understand you’d be reluctant,” said Chan.

“Reluctant doesn’t begin to cover it, sir,” said Lou.

“As far as we know, sir,” said Claire, “the Shades take the bodies, even when the electronics have stopped working... Come to think of it, the sniper team was still there when we passed by.”

“Yes, that’s what your debrief said, and we have treaty obligations to check the sites for bodies. You two have the most experience. You were able to get to the site of that sniper team’s last stand, and the Mercs were able to get to it in the first place without meeting the Shades, so those creatures can’t be there all the time. Back you go. If you hear them – I understand you can hear them – then run.”

“How will we move the bodies, sir?” said Claire. “It’s a long way to carry bodies, especially if we’re being chased by Shades.”

“I spoke to your James. He’s got an equipment trolley you can use that’s large enough. You can wheel the bodies along. Take that Merc medic with you as a representative of their side, and to get her away from here. Maybe then I can get the men to finish the work.”

In the end, and despite the misgivings of the Clou team, with all electronics switched off, the tunnel was as still and quiet as the tomb Claire suspected it was. She took Lou, Cora, a Lieutenant from The One-Five and two of the male marines on the detail into one of the side rooms for a quick inspection by the light of a mining flare. They looked at the spidery writing etched into plaques in the front room and on each stone tablet in the back rooms, with none of it making any sense. Archaeologists would no doubt spend years trying to work it out.

They found three bodies at the site of the first battle. Claire thought that if the initial Shade attack killed the electronic systems, then the bodies were left alone. If not, they were taken. A blood trail from that site led down one of the side tunnels, but the marines could hear faint sighing and backed away. Those bodies would have to wait. Captain Chan agreed. That left the bodies of the Merc sniper team with Claire and Lou having to retrace their steps, Cora reluctantly in tow, to the major intersection. They had to hide once as a group of Shades passed by, Cora watching them round eyed. They found both bodies of the sniper team, along with their smashed weapons, where they had been killed. They wrapped them in ground sheets – a gruesome task – and trolleyed them out.

Finally, the urgent part of the clean up was over. The bodies they could find had been taken back to base, along with most of the remaining marines, leaving Clou team, Cora and Adria, who had also been on body detail in another part of the valley, Lieutenant Addington who was arranging the salvage of the smashed transporters and a few male marines. One of these handed out what Claire took to be standard issue light beer cans from the mess. As the alcoholic content of these was slight, they were allowed to drink them at the end of an exercise. She sat down and leant against the side of a large mining transporter James had borrowed to bring out into the valley. He had come and gone a couple of times during the clean-up, but had not been able to exchange more than a few words with Claire. Now he had been asked to salvage and rebuild, if he could, the shot down transporters. As it happened two of the transporters had crashed close to one another and he hoped to use the big mining craft’s engines to energise the lift crystals on the two craft to tow them back. Claire planned some discreet cuddling with James on the flight back. She needed comforting.

As she leant back against this craft and drank, the sniper thought how relieved she was not to be shot at, or to have to hide from Shades. The beer was good, better than the usual canteen issue. Before Claire knew it, she had finished the can and she threw it into the rubbish bin they were using – a direct hit at three body lengths while sitting down. She punched both arms into the air in a very un-Claire-like gesture. Yes! Sniper!

Cora, who was chatting to the male marines, looked at her puzzled. One of the men passed Claire another can with a grin. James, who was piloting them home, came into view. He had been rigging the smashed transporters for towing.

“Lieutenant, can I get two of your men each in these craft? I’ve rigged them so the lift crystals will work, but they’ll be towed by us. I need someone to keep them at the same height.”

“You want us to pilot?” asked one of the marines.

“Sure. Just to keep the altitude the same, while we tow. I’ll show you the controls to use.”

“But they’re both on their sides.”

“You’ve never done different positions before? Seriously, it’ll right itself once I charge up. You also gotta radio if there are problems.”

The male marines, James and Addington went off to the smashed craft.

“That’s your bad boy bank robber?” said Cora to Claire. “He seems really nice.”

“He’s a gentleman,” said Adria.

“I heard he stole fifty million in gold from the Federated Reserve?” said Cora.

“Twenty-seven million,” said Claire, “with his grandfather.”

“Grandfather?”

“Criminal tradition in his family.”

“I’ve never known anyone like that, not where I come from. How did you meet him?”

This involved explaining when and where they had met (Cora did not blink an eye over mention of the marine Dollhouse), of Maddie’s role in the affair and how James happened to be in Devil’s Pit in the first place. By the time they had finished explanations James had strolled back.

“If you ladies could jump in. As soon as Lieutenant Addington comes back we’ll go. It’ll take a couple of hour to get back, as we’ve got to tow those craft.” He looked at Claire, puzzled. “You alright?”

“Never better,” said Claire, who was well into the second can.

“Oh-kay,” said James, looking puzzled, “we’ll talk later, no doubt.”

“We sure will,” said Claire.

“James, this is Cora,” said Adria.

“Oh, I know who Cora is,” said James taking her hand, while the medic beamed. “A lot of the male marines have mentioned you in an admiring way. Captain Chan is worried you’ll convert his command to the Merc cause.”

Cora laughed. “Maybe they’ll convert me.”

“Always a high standard among the medics of both sides,” said James, “isn’t that so Adria.”

“Someone has to make battles look good,” said Adria.

“And a high standard among the snipers,” said James to Claire, again glancing curiously at the can.

“You betcha,” said Claire.

“See you all inside.” James entered the craft.

Claire heard Cora say to Adria “he’s charming”. Another woman admiring her boyfriend made Claire all the more determined to do some in-flight canoodling with James. Lou, who had been talking to Brew by phone on the other side of the craft, returned to the group, took one look at Claire and grabbed the can. “Girl, what are you doing with this?”

“We’re allowed the canteen beer coming off deployment,” said Claire.

“This ain’t canteen. Didn’t you notice the seal’s been changed?” Claire had, but thought that meant it was simply a different batch. “This is high-proof hooch.”

Adria gasped.

“They’ve emptied out the canteen issue, put in hooch and resealed,” said Lou. “This time they got the brewing right - it’s got real taste – but half a can is enough to earn punishment detail, and you’ve gone most of a can.”

“I think that’s her second can,” said Cora.

“What!”

“I feel really good,” said Claire. Indeed, the world felt mellow. The stress of the battle had been washed away. She wanted to go and find James.

“After two cans, it’s lucky you’re feeling anything at all,” said Lou. “Help me get her to a seat and strapped in before the Lieutenant sees her. The captain’s been threatening to charge anyone else found drunk on this stuff.”

The ladies hurriedly tidied up and dumped Claire in a seat.

“Don’t move,” ordered Lou, strapping her in. “Sleep it off.”

For a while, Claire thought that she would sleep it off. Addington arrived and was diverted by the others, as the transporter slowly lifted off. Claire had closed her eyes, so she was left out of the conversation. After ten minutes of flight Claire decided that she would sleep much better if she was cuddling James and slipped out of her seat while the ladies were laughing over a joke.

The layout of the mining transporter was quite different to the troop vehicles the marines were used to, in that the only seating was in a single compartment near the front where the seats faced one another. The craft also had a galley, equipment lockers, a hold which held assorted smashed equipment of both sides for return to base, and a roomy cockpit where Claire found James. She sat on his lap, leaning her head against his shoulder and unbuttoning his shirt.

“This is a new Claire.”

“This one likes to give in-flight service,” she said.

“I think you’re drunk, Claire Williams.”

“Maybe, but I’m a happy drunk.” She pushed up the pilot seat arm rests that were in the way, sat astride the criminal and kissed him. “I feel that you’re pleased with the in-flight service,” she said rubbing against his lap.

“I’m not complaining,” said James, “but I don’t want you put on charges. The Lieutenant is just back there.”

“For a criminal you worry a lot about rules.” Claire’s got off James, took off her combat boots, then pants and got back on, straddling the bank robber. He slid a hand under her shirt.

“You’re not wearing anything at all down below.”

“Funny that,” said Claire, unthreading James’ belt.

Lieutenant Addington assumed that Claire had gone to the head. Then the craft jerked violently.

“Why all the moving around?” she asked. “I thought we were in for a calm trip.” The plane jerked again. “Private Crean, ask James what the problem is, and see what’s happened to Private Williams.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Lou. She went to the cockpit, opened the hatch and, to her astonishment, saw Claire happily galloping up and down on James. The craft shuddered again. She hurriedly pulled the hatch shut, waiting a minute wondering what to do and then walked slowly back to the seats.

“What is the story, private,” said Addington.

“Turbulence, ma’am,” she said. “Private Williams is in the heads. She is feeling a little off.”

“With all this shaking I’m not surprised,” said Addington. She turned from Lou for a moment to pick up a magazine from earth she had found, and Lou gestured to the others. She nodded her head in the direction of the cockpit, formed a hole with the thumb and forefinger of her left hand and then threaded it with the forefinger of her right.

“What?” mouthed Adria, “then who’s flying the plane?”

Lou shrugged.

“A lot happens on your side,” said Cora.

“You bet it does, private,” said Addington, without realising what she was referring to. The plane shook again.

“A lot of turbulence, ma’am,” said Lou.

“There, does that meet your in-flight service requirements, Mr Truslove,” whispered Claire in James’s ear.

“You are now coming on all future flights,” said James, “but we haven’t quite finished. Raise up a little and let me get my hand down there.”

Claire did so and then gasped, digging her finger nails into James’s back.

“Private Williams has been gone quite a while,” said Lieutenant Addington. “Are you sure she’s alright?”

“She’ll be back soon, ma’am, I’m sure of it,” said Lou. The other ladies tried to look casual. Addington looked around at them all.

“I think I’ll go and see James for myself in the cockpit,” she said.

“I can go ma’am,” said Lou.

“No need private, I will go.” She swept past Lou.

In the cockpit Claire shuddered and then was still.

“Now you better go,” said James. “We’ll talk later.”

“We sure will,” said Claire.

“Grab you boots and clothes and get dressed in the locker back there.”

Claire kissed James then grabbed her stuff. James pulled his pants up. He found Claire’s underpants – marine issue female underpants were not referred to as panties – and handed them to her. She took them and vanished into the locker, just as Addington arrived.

“It’s been a shaky flight, James,” she said.

“A few issues, Lieutenant, all under control now. Nice and smooth, see.”

“Hmm! You seem to have a lot of marine camouflage paint on your face.”

Claire in her hiding place, stifled a giggle.

“Do I? Oh well, you know, the ladies can be friendly. Always giving me a little kiss on the cheek. All harmless.”

“Have you seen private Williams by any chance?”

“She was here for a while ma’am, but she left before you came in.”

“I see,” she came close to the flight seat and looked down. “James, the buckle on your pants belt is off to one side. I’ve never seen you like that.”

“Is it?” said James. “I’ll put it right. There you go.”

Addington looked around the cockpit but couldn’t see anything, then looked in the head. No Claire.

“Where could she have gone?” she asked Lou.

“She could have wandered down the back. She was tired. Maybe she was confused.”

“Tired and emotional no doubt,” said Addington.

“Ma’am?”

“An old joke, private.”

They looked among the gear in the hold and by the time they came back Claire was back in her seat, fully clothed.

“And where have you been private?” asked Addington. The other marines and Cora were trying not to laugh.

“Big transporter, I just got lost, ma’am,” said Claire.

Addington leant closer the looked at her eyes. “I think you’ve been at that hooch that’s been going around.”

“Me, ma’am? I don’t much like beer.”

The next day, having gone out like a light at the barracks, and suffering a monster hangover, Claire had to ask Lou for details of the day’s events.

“How many people know that I got stupid drunk on hooch and banged the transport pilot on the ride back,” she asked on the way to the mess hall. That day they went straight to breakfast without a parade. Then they walked in the mess hall and, at the sight of Claire, all the marines, and even the prisoners, stood up and cheered.

“Seems everyone knows,” said Lou.