The group rushed into the clearing, arms waving frantically.
“Hold your fire!” yelled, Kev from the back. “We’ve got beer!”
Somewhere along the line, Kev had become a veteran. You could tell by the fact that he ran in a few steps behind so that if there was trouble, it could happen to somebody else first.
Mac raised the barrel of his pistol and slid the catch back to the safe position, the sour look on his face silently demanding an explanation as to why his privacy had been disturbed.
Kev looked back sheepishly.
“I saw you had been rostered on night patrol, so I figured I’d bring the guys out for a field craft exercise so we wouldn’t have to put up with another surprise kit inspection by the Colonel,’ he explained. “We brought steaks too,” he added.
Mac raised an eyebrow as he re-holstered his weapon while the others fanned out into the clearing, taking up spaces around the fire and making themselves comfortable. Gampy Bob, who had come to mech piloting far later in life than the rest of them. Mike, Stan and Peter, the relative newcomers who had shipped in after the recent clan merger. ‘Leg Humper’ Eric, the regiment’s sneak attack specialist, struggling with the supply crate they had brought with them.
Eric half dropped the crate on the ground and straightened, putting a fist into his back to crick the vertebrae back into place. “Yeah, I noticed that too,” he stated, oblivious to the fact that they had come within a hairs breadth of having their heads blown off. “How come the ‘surprise’ inspections only happen when you are out of the barracks?”
Mac shook his head, giving in and making the best of the situation with a small sigh, then answered as neutrally as he could.
“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement that suites all parties concerned,” he said. “The Colonel doesn’t need the grief and in return, I don’t need to pretend to give a monkeys.” He shrugged, then lowered himself back into his original seat.
The older Heroes glanced at each other and shrugged, accepting it as a perfectly reasonable explanation, however Mike looked troubled.
“Why don’t you guys seem to get along?” he asked. “Why do you stay together? I mean, I know folks drifted away in our last clan, but all the other Clans like the Smurfs or the Bunnies, they are all about how close they are as a family. Family this and Mom and Dad that… but all you guys seem to do is bicker. Why are you together at all?” He trailed off looking unhappy.
The older heroes had the decency to look uncomfortable, all except Gampy who sucked on his gums for a few seconds before replying. “Y’see son,” he began, “family is all about bickering. Always has been. The natural state for a close family to be in is a good old fashioned feud. That’s the way it is, an’ we just bicker better than most. It’s when we start acting friendly that you know somebodies in for a world of hurt… providing of course somebody hasn’t raised the DEFCON level by being… polite..” He nodded at his own wisdom for emphasis. “Cards anyone?” he added hopefully, pulling a well thumbed deck from his breast pocket.
Stan’s eyes brightened at the suggestion, until Eric laid a restraining hand on his forearm. “Word to the wise bud. Heroes rule number 47. Never get into a card game with a cheating old goat when he is wearing a long sleeved shirt.” He tapped the side of his nose in a knowing gesture, while Gampy shrugged resignedly and started to deal himself a hand of patience.
The supply crate was duly opened and Stan set about the task of skewering meat ready to roast over the coals while Kev passed the beers around.
Waiting for the hiss of his opening can to subside, Mike then carried on the conversation. “Look, can I ask something on the understanding it’s not going to get back to the big bosses?” His eyes darted around the group, looking for approval to continue.
“Sure, why not” replied Kev.
Mike relaxed visibly, glancing at the others who had come with him from their previous clan. “Look, we’ve all been wondering this. Just never felt comfortable asking. You know that we traveled light in our last clan… kept the mechs to a minimum, sold off old gear for new, that sort of thing. But you guys seem to hoard every piece of kit you come across. Not just multiples of useful stuff, but everything, even the junk. Why?”
“Because it might be useful one day” answered Eric, scratching an armpit and trying to shrug at the same time.
“We got caught out badly with the Specialist War and had to scramble to re-purchase stuff we’d sold off,” continued Kev. “Most people got caught out the same way. We just bit the bullet and did our best under the circumstances, and now we make it a policy to double check before we ditch stuff so we don’t get caught out again.”
“I can accept that,” Mike responded in a tone that meant he didn’t really, and was confirmed by the next sentence. “But I mean, I’ve seen your guy’s hangars. You’ve got mechs in there that make even Gampy Bob look young… no offense intended,’ he quickly added.
“None taken,” Bob replied mildly, pausing in the process of laying a black jack on a red queen.
Mac smirked as he relaxed back further against the log. “You’re talking about my Fides, the Urachnia, aren’t you?” he inquired knowingly, glancing across at Kev. “She’s a special case.”
Mike’s face was confused as he looked back and forth between the two pilots. It was Kev who responded, his voice a half chuckle. “Friend, you are in the presence of the only pilot who got off Vupa 6 with a niode mech and his skin intact, and without cash changing hands or a bullet being fired.”
All eyes swung expectantly towards Mac, who glanced around the group before sighing resignedly.
“Ok, It was like this,” he commenced, signalling for Kev to throw him another can. “I was pretty new to the clan, and still didn’t have my act together. I did a run to Vupa and got caught off guard by Mad Mulligan and a few of his boys. They jumped me, and dragged me back to their camp… Mulligan kept going on about how I was going to be his ‘new best friend’ and ‘what a fun time we were going to have’. That sort of thing.”
He paused to open the can and take a slurp. “They kept me overnight but I managed to get free. Only got as far as the hanger before it was discovered though, so I had to act quickly. I managed to hide away for a few minutes under one of their mechs that was getting some repairs done on the armor plating. The very Fides we are talking about in fact. Just before they got me, I managed to grab hold of one of the spray paint cans they were using on it, ripped off the label and wrote ‘Pinkalicious’ on the side of it.”
There was a slight pause in the narration while Mac waited for Peter to finish choking on his beer.
“So they hauled me out,” he continued, “and Mulligan was going to shoot me on the spot. But I pointed out that since we were best friends, he needed to let me have one last request. Since the guy is seriously not playing with a full deck of cards, he saw sense and agreed.”
“So I asked him to tell me why he had a pink mech… He looked confused and said, no, it’s grey. I said, no it’s pink, look. I even showed him the can. He was still really confused, so I sprayed the word ‘pink’ in big grey letters on the floor…”
“By that time he was looking reeeally confused, so I whispered in his ear and said, Look, my best buddy, none of the rest of the guys wanted to tell you that you had a pink mech, but as your best friend, I felt it was my job to.”
“And pink really isn’t your color, it makes your bum look big, and all the neighborhood cats are laughing at you…BUT,” he paused, raising a finger for emphasis, “since I’m you best friend, I’ll smuggle it off the planet and no-body will ever know, because that’s what best friends do.”
“And to think they have the cheek to call me a cheating old goat,” Gampy said to himself, shaking his head and laying the four of hearts on the five of clubs.
“So was that one of the high points to your year, was it?” asked Stan, earning himself a hard look from Mac. “Uh Yeah, sorry,’ he hastily explained, “we had heard at least a bit of your diary stuff. Sorry, couldn’t help it.”
Mac looked around the group grudgingly, then shook his head in acceptance. “Yes, that was a high point. There were some lows, but there were other high points as well…”
to be continued...
Submitted by David McCallum#701548