Solace & Taproots

3.10

The scrappy gang dispersed a short while later. Ronnie off to link up with Fairbanks, Seb in tow. Rebecca and Sam lingered a little, still shaking off their respective huffs.

Rebecca was the first to speak. "We should... go do just about anything else."

Sam nodded. "Indeed. Fuck the last hour. Uhh... want to see how our guests our doing? Rufus the morale mutt could pay them a visit."

That got a little laugh out of Rebecca. "Are we really just his entourage?"

Sam hugged her arm and chuckled back at her. "There are worse jobs."

Rebecca loosely threw on the recon armor rather than carrying it freehand. "What I'm hearing is you volunteering for poop duty."

Sam smirked as she slung the Tavor over her shoulder and passed Felicia to Rebecca. "Are you kidding? I just take him over to one of those little yards within sight of the west gate and let him do his thing in whatever corner he chooses. Nobody else should be skulking around in there, so he's just adding organic harassment defenses. Poop mines."

Rebecca rolled her eyes and their light banter continued as they retraced the route up to the parking lot, trying to leave the lingering traces of their unpleasant moods behind. They paused at the rear entrance to the encampment and took a moment to survey the scene in daylight. Brass and steel shell casings, some bigger than Rebecca's middle finger, had been loosely swept into tangled mounds where nobody would slip on them. There was very little glass underfoot — she felt a pang of contrition and resolved to keep a watchful eye on Rufus' path, not wanting him to lacerate one of his footpads. Sure, safety glass, but still.

They were surprised to see a semi truck with a low-sided trailer pulled up in front of the camp, in the street where the battle had raged the night before. It was painted in Black Tusk colors, so, you know, black, and extra black. Henry Ford would approve, but in the summer heat... yuck.

The trailer had a mix of roll-up doors and lowered ramp-like openings along the side, and looked to be a portable logistics hub with mostly empty weapon racks, shelves, lots of bins and crates, etc. It also contained at least a dozen jerry cans of fuel... or did, as those were rapidly being distributed to top off the surviving (and other commandeered) vehicles, with empties stacked in another pile.

Rebecca asked Rufus' first fan and visitor — one of the motor pool techs, wearing a name patch proclaiming his name was Epstein, about it. While wiggling Rufus' collar around and straightening and fluffing the flattened fur beneath, he explained they'd found it several blocks away. It seemed there had originally been two by the looks of the immediate area, but the retreating forces took any other vehicles when they skedaddled. (That's right, you run, assholes!)

They'd already checked it for any explosive surprises before moving it, and their comms people were going over it for any kind of listening bugs or tracking devices as it was inventoried. It didn't seem to be a Trojan horse so far, and maybe the Black Tusk group simply didn't have anyone left who knew how to drive a semi, but they were still treating it with a healthy sense of distrust. Apparently they'd even used test kits on the reserve fuel before distributing it.

Further on the subject of commandeered vehicles, Epstein proudly showed them how the Oshkosh armored truck from their "Valkyrie Ride" — his words, not theirs — already had intact lighting scavenged from the truck Sam torched the night before.

He was ecstatic she "so strategically dismantled" the rest of them that he had "at least three halves to work with". Then she left him the bonus of two intact Humvees, so even with the destruction of one of theirs and the city truck, they were coming out a little bit ahead vehicle-wise. He did lament that "the engine hoist had been cut down and repurposed" to mount the minigun and he couldn't use it to get to work right there at the encampment, but he did appreciate being around to complain about it.

For a little while, he was so ebullient about Sam's accomplishments that Rebecca started to wonder if she needed to start dropping territorial hints, or at least trying to save Sam from the fanboying, but he sobered quickly when Sam asked about casualties.

"We... lost two people, ma'am. One more was a close thing, but your RN really helped our corpsman out. I think there were three to five other serious but not life threatening injuries, and several more minor walking wounded." He nodded towards Rebecca's bandage with that last comment, while her face grew unhappy.

"I'm really sorry we didn't get here sooner. Maybe..."

Epstein interrupted her. "Ma'am, I don't really have enough rank to say this kind of thing much, so I guess it's really more of a polite suggestion. With respect, I think you should belay that line of thinking. The worst was absolutely in the first few minutes, and it would have been so very much more of a clusterfuck if you and your friends hadn't shown up and handed those tuskfuckers their asses so decisively. If you'll pardon my language, ma'am."

Sam arched an eyebrow at Rebecca in endorsement, but her girlfriend was distracted. "Tusk.. fuckers? Was that one word?"

"Yes ma'am. Again, please excuse my language. Fighting forces worldwide share a long standing proficiency in formulating derogatory euphemisms for their enemies."

Rebecca shook her head and genuinely laughed, as much at his explanation as the word itself. (Sam looked around, and made a note to tell Rebecca later that a number of the mostly male troops seemed to appreciate hearing a happy young woman in their midst, as she noticed more than one of them glance up, and then back to their work, looking slightly less stressed. There were a few straighter backs, and a marginal uptick in work pace around them. Regular USO act, they were.) "I hope I have your permission to plagiarize that, uh, Mister Epstein?"

"Lance Corporal, Ma'am. Lance Corporal Epstein. Or Douglas, when things are informal. And, absolutely."

"Thanks, Lance Corporal Douglas Epstein." She held out a hand to shake his. "Rebecca, and Sam. I think we've probably kept you long enough from your work, but please let us know if there's something we can chip in on. We're not military, but, we'll lend a hand if we can, you know?"

He returned the handshake and nodded at Sam with another "Ma'am." Then, replying to Rebecca, "Nice to make your acquaintances. Thank you, ma'am. Surely will, and we appreciate the offer. Though, it is this Lance Corporal's opinion that you and your friends have done much for us already. Semper Fi, ma'am."

"Semper Fi, Lance Corporal." Even though she wasn't a Marine herself, Rebecca had spent enough time with Ronnie to guess how she should reply to him if she wanted to convey respect and encouragement.

Sam elbowed Rebecca after Epstein made it out of earshot (probably). "You didn't threaten him with imminent bodily harm for calling you ma'am. Should I be worried?"

"Rosie, he was being nice! Plus, we're outnumbered, so it would be tactically unwise to start something."

Sam shrugged and shook her head slowly. "I dunno. Maybe I should talk to Ronnie, see if she can put the fear of god and her in him, get him to stay away from my girl."

Rebecca groaned. "Oh, stop. And please, he seemed quite taken with your explosive accomplishments."

Sam piled on the mock chagrin. "And now you're being jealous. It's an ugly emotion, Sparky."

"Ugh. If you want to see sparks... if this was some crappy immature comedy movie, I'd probably challenge you to see who could kiss more soldiers or some crap like that."

"Oh. Well. I'm game if you... no, no I'm not. That guy over there, that's just unfortunate. That mustache is just a hard no. I'm gonna have to stick with you and your distinct lack of extensive facial hair."

"Mmm, lucky me. But still, we should probably behave and not distract all the boys while they work."

They spent the next few hours staying out of the way, but hanging out in the encampment area. In between introductions and Rufus adorers, they talked of many things — stories of their parents, their childhoods, when Sam first had feelings for a girl, if she ever had for someone non-binary, what foods they missed most, whether they were more upset the Marvel or Star Wars movie arcs never finished. Rebecca was heartbroken she'd never get to see Black Panther 2 or Captain Marvel, Sam had crushed hard on Rey after she went all "I know kung fu on little emo Sith boy" (as she put it) at the end of Episode VII. They couldn't pick the ultimate Marvel 'ship, but concurred that Poe and Finn, oh yeah, hands down. Could they get in on that? Even just watch them adoringly for days? They talked of many things, none of them Peter Lassart.