Fic: Jenna's War I: Screw Up (2/6)
Title: Jenna's War I: Screw Up
Fandom: Star Wars
Rating: T, to be on the safe side
Genres: Gen, Action/Adventure
Summary: A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... there were also people who were neither Jedi nor smugglers nor bounty hunters nor anything else as glamorous as that. Private Jenna Melara, infantry soldier for the Alliance, was one of them. Here's her story.
A/N: Second chapter... and it seems like this just isn't Jenna's day... or week... or month. I do hope at least some people are reading it, though...
Anyway, here we go:
( Screw Up 1/6 )
Two
When I was finally let out of the hospital tent, things had changed. Which is why I’m now sitting at the back of my platoon tent and just basically trying to be invisible. At first, I didn’t really notice what was going on, but then I accidentally overheard some people from Supply talking. And I absolutely didn’t like it. Basically, word about my reaction towards Danna had gotten round pretty fast, and like every good rumor it got blown up a little wider with every new time it was told.
By the time I got out of the hospital tent, they had already labeled me as the ‘crazy fury with the fire hair’ or something like that. In the end all the avoiding glances, and the people scurrying out of my way - together with the all the stuff whispered behind my back - made me go on a nearly frantic search for a quiet place.
And now I’m sitting here and staring at the practically endless wasteland before me, always listening for someone to accidentally stumbling over me with one ear. I just should have known, something like the thing which happened between Danna and me wouldn’t stay secret for long.
I lean back on the tent and close my eyes. Dawn just began, and Tatooine’s two suns are starting their crawl over the dunes. It’s actually a very beautiful sight. Well, as long as you don’t know that behind the next dune, your death could already be sitting and waiting for you.
I take another breath and open my eyes again, taking in more of the stunning spectacle that dawn always is on Tatooine. Back on Chandrila, I used to stay up whole nights, talking to my best friend or just reading and then watching the sun rise.
I have to close my eyes again, because a wave of home-sickness just dropped down on me. Taking a steadying breath, I briefly wish I could just wait till breakfast and see if Danna had a little time just for talking. Usually, Danna’s great with listening, but ever since me shouting at her, I haven’t seen anything of her. Not even a cold glance or something. It’s just as if she made herself disappear from my radar. Which makes it impossible for me to apologize to her…
“Tarkker. Farrayn. Melara. Attittalon. Winters. Tre’gar,” Sarge suddenly bellows out across half the camp at us and receives a “Yes, sir!” from the three humans and the Bothan, and a roar from the Wookiee. Trying to shake of the last drops of home-sickness, I jump up and make a run for the tent’s entrance, lining up beside the guys who are already standing at attention.
Well, patrol again, I bet. What wouldn’t I give for another night in the field hospital. Or kitchen duty. Or even one of Sarge’s famous “Mon Calamarian runs” - he calls them like that because “we’ll be running until you fucking rookies are in deep water!” Just not another DBP. Every time I’ve got to walk through that damn ghost city, I’m on the edge the whole time. And when I get back, I’m always drenched in sweat, and not from the heat. ‘Sides I still get light cases of vertigo every time I’ve got to ride in a box.
“Alright, rookies, gear up and be at the landing pat in ten. Time starts… now.” Gah! Did he have to yell that directly into my face? Now I’ve got to run around with those drops on it for the whole DBP, because I’ll never be able to wash my face before taking off.
The others gear up in a kind of professional hurry, but I’m clumsy as ever. Frantically getting my gear and hoping to the Force and all the gods from the ancient Chandrilan pantheon that I don’t forget anything, I pack my things.
I’m just about to storm out of the tent, when I feel a light tap on my shoulder. A little too fast I whirl around, throwing a “What?” at the one who dared to disturb me.
“Thought you might want to take your canteen with you,” a rather quiet Xan says and holds my canteen in his hand.
Ever since my outburst against Danna in the hospital tent made the round, people were trying to stay clear of me. Most of the teasing subsided but so did the general social interaction. Some of them even threw me wary or even hostile looks. After two days I actually would have been happy about a little teasing. But up to Xanas now speaking to me, I had to put up with cautious to hostile silence.
I take a deep breath, even managing a smile, when I take my canteen and say, “Yeah. Uh… thank you.”
And, what a surprise, Xanas manages a smile himself as well. Seems at least one isn't afraid of me anymore.
When I arrive at the landing pat, I’m a little flustered. What’s the LT doing here, all geared-up? As we run to the box that’s already ready to lift up, I throw a casual glance at Xan, mouthing a “What the fuck?”, but he just gives a short shrug and then lines up next to the other ones. The LT clears his throat. Oooh, speech time!
“People! I know you were expecting to go on another patrol, but I have to disappoint you.” If you only knew, mister… “Instead you will be accompanying me on a trip to our second wasteland force, a four hour ride from here.” Wait, does that mean I have to sit four hours in that box behind me? Four hours with my feet dangling out of the damn thing and with various bouts of vertigo? What did I do to deserve that? Patrol doesn’t sound so bad all of a sudden.
“You have the great honor of being my escort.” I risk a glance at my squad mates, and I‘m pretty sure that all of them could just suppress a groan. Lieutenant Dernel is one of those young officers who think they are Gods, and that enlistees should worship the ground they walk on. My mother would have hated him.
Dernel gives the order to mount, and the squad climbs into the box. Before I can get in, he looks at me and says, “I just hope you live up to your famous name just for once, Melara,” looking down at me disdainfully. Why does everyone think that being taller than me gives them the right to make me feel even shorter? And why does everyone think I need to be reminded of who my mother was? Permission to shoot you, sir?
Not dignifying his insult with a comment, I climb into the box, trying to wedge in between Xanas and Tarkker to get away as far as possible from the open sides. Both guys give me a look that clearly says “What the fuck are you doing?” and there’s no time to argue. Trying not to let anything show, I take place beside Xanas and can just withstand the temptation to close my eyes against the height, because another sign of weakness would be just the right thing for the guys to have a little fun. And Dernel’s stupid comment was enough aggravation for today.
Sand, sand, sand and even… more sand. That’s everything I see from my place at the side. Not that I’m not used to it by now, but it’s still a very depressing sight, most when you’re already not your usual cheerful self. And I’m definitely not.
Half an hour after the take-off the guys became bored. So bored they finally forgot that they were all scared of me and started teasing me again. Dernel preferred to go and harass the pilots in the cockpit, which left me and the guys. The first one to break the relative silence was Private Winters, a boy only a little taller than me, scrawny and still looking like a teenager. And with a nasty streak. “Say, Melara… I was really happy I’d go on a mission with you. Because you know… I was hoping you could teach me some new tricks with the rifle.”
I tried to stare through him, pretending I hadn’t heard his stupid question, but then the Bothan joined him. “Yeah… or do you have any fancy nicknames for all of us? We could also think of one for you… like…maybe…” It was the Wookiee’s turn then to roar. All the guys - apart from Xanas, which did surprise me - laughed a little viciously, and Tarkker then said, “That’s a good one, At. She really behaves like one.” At this point I became suspicious, additionally to feeling just plainly sick of them making fun of me. And I wasn’t mistaken.
“Now, I think we’ll call you our queen. A Queen for One Year. Because, you know… you behave like one. You really behave like you’ve got every guy wrapped around your finger, but it’s only because you have tits, and that’s something really rare here. And it’ll only last a year.” They guffawed. It was then I thought I was in hell. They hadn't only thought up a cheesy and stupid nickname, they had also thought up a totally unimaginative nickname.
Just as I was about to answer when suddenly Xanas spoke up. “Will you all just shut up? We’re supposed to be on the same side, so treat her like an equal.” That was just great. Really, exactly what I absolutely didn’t need in that moment. It only made me look weaker, even if it wasn’t what Xanas had intended with it.
In a bout of quick-wittedness I just gave them a look of disdain, and then said to Xanas, “You know… they can keep on treating me like I wasn’t their equal. I mean, who wanted to be equal with them?” I swear, that for one small moment, I saw a vicious grin lighting up in his face, but instead of answering he chose to just nod and that was it. Since then they tried to coax me or him into another conversation or whatever they called that guffawing and bad jokes, and I had been sitting on the edge watching the endless sand dunes flying by.
And still… more sand. That is, until the box suddenly rocks to the side, making Tarkker and Winters almost fall off. All of the men are swearing loudly, threatening the pilots with all forms of a violent and small death for that move, but before either them or Dernel can react, the box rocks again, then sputters.
And then everything happens at once. Something in the back explodes, burning Winters, Tre’gar and Attittatlon. The ground is coming nearer at an alarmingly fast rate. And then I feel someone pushing me out of the box, and when I hit the ground, I fade into oblivion.
~*~
TBC in Chapter Three
Fandom: Star Wars
Rating: T, to be on the safe side
Genres: Gen, Action/Adventure
Summary: A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... there were also people who were neither Jedi nor smugglers nor bounty hunters nor anything else as glamorous as that. Private Jenna Melara, infantry soldier for the Alliance, was one of them. Here's her story.
A/N: Second chapter... and it seems like this just isn't Jenna's day... or week... or month. I do hope at least some people are reading it, though...
Anyway, here we go:
( Screw Up 1/6 )
Two
When I was finally let out of the hospital tent, things had changed. Which is why I’m now sitting at the back of my platoon tent and just basically trying to be invisible. At first, I didn’t really notice what was going on, but then I accidentally overheard some people from Supply talking. And I absolutely didn’t like it. Basically, word about my reaction towards Danna had gotten round pretty fast, and like every good rumor it got blown up a little wider with every new time it was told.
By the time I got out of the hospital tent, they had already labeled me as the ‘crazy fury with the fire hair’ or something like that. In the end all the avoiding glances, and the people scurrying out of my way - together with the all the stuff whispered behind my back - made me go on a nearly frantic search for a quiet place.
And now I’m sitting here and staring at the practically endless wasteland before me, always listening for someone to accidentally stumbling over me with one ear. I just should have known, something like the thing which happened between Danna and me wouldn’t stay secret for long.
I lean back on the tent and close my eyes. Dawn just began, and Tatooine’s two suns are starting their crawl over the dunes. It’s actually a very beautiful sight. Well, as long as you don’t know that behind the next dune, your death could already be sitting and waiting for you.
I take another breath and open my eyes again, taking in more of the stunning spectacle that dawn always is on Tatooine. Back on Chandrila, I used to stay up whole nights, talking to my best friend or just reading and then watching the sun rise.
I have to close my eyes again, because a wave of home-sickness just dropped down on me. Taking a steadying breath, I briefly wish I could just wait till breakfast and see if Danna had a little time just for talking. Usually, Danna’s great with listening, but ever since me shouting at her, I haven’t seen anything of her. Not even a cold glance or something. It’s just as if she made herself disappear from my radar. Which makes it impossible for me to apologize to her…
“Tarkker. Farrayn. Melara. Attittalon. Winters. Tre’gar,” Sarge suddenly bellows out across half the camp at us and receives a “Yes, sir!” from the three humans and the Bothan, and a roar from the Wookiee. Trying to shake of the last drops of home-sickness, I jump up and make a run for the tent’s entrance, lining up beside the guys who are already standing at attention.
Well, patrol again, I bet. What wouldn’t I give for another night in the field hospital. Or kitchen duty. Or even one of Sarge’s famous “Mon Calamarian runs” - he calls them like that because “we’ll be running until you fucking rookies are in deep water!” Just not another DBP. Every time I’ve got to walk through that damn ghost city, I’m on the edge the whole time. And when I get back, I’m always drenched in sweat, and not from the heat. ‘Sides I still get light cases of vertigo every time I’ve got to ride in a box.
“Alright, rookies, gear up and be at the landing pat in ten. Time starts… now.” Gah! Did he have to yell that directly into my face? Now I’ve got to run around with those drops on it for the whole DBP, because I’ll never be able to wash my face before taking off.
The others gear up in a kind of professional hurry, but I’m clumsy as ever. Frantically getting my gear and hoping to the Force and all the gods from the ancient Chandrilan pantheon that I don’t forget anything, I pack my things.
I’m just about to storm out of the tent, when I feel a light tap on my shoulder. A little too fast I whirl around, throwing a “What?” at the one who dared to disturb me.
“Thought you might want to take your canteen with you,” a rather quiet Xan says and holds my canteen in his hand.
Ever since my outburst against Danna in the hospital tent made the round, people were trying to stay clear of me. Most of the teasing subsided but so did the general social interaction. Some of them even threw me wary or even hostile looks. After two days I actually would have been happy about a little teasing. But up to Xanas now speaking to me, I had to put up with cautious to hostile silence.
I take a deep breath, even managing a smile, when I take my canteen and say, “Yeah. Uh… thank you.”
And, what a surprise, Xanas manages a smile himself as well. Seems at least one isn't afraid of me anymore.
When I arrive at the landing pat, I’m a little flustered. What’s the LT doing here, all geared-up? As we run to the box that’s already ready to lift up, I throw a casual glance at Xan, mouthing a “What the fuck?”, but he just gives a short shrug and then lines up next to the other ones. The LT clears his throat. Oooh, speech time!
“People! I know you were expecting to go on another patrol, but I have to disappoint you.” If you only knew, mister… “Instead you will be accompanying me on a trip to our second wasteland force, a four hour ride from here.” Wait, does that mean I have to sit four hours in that box behind me? Four hours with my feet dangling out of the damn thing and with various bouts of vertigo? What did I do to deserve that? Patrol doesn’t sound so bad all of a sudden.
“You have the great honor of being my escort.” I risk a glance at my squad mates, and I‘m pretty sure that all of them could just suppress a groan. Lieutenant Dernel is one of those young officers who think they are Gods, and that enlistees should worship the ground they walk on. My mother would have hated him.
Dernel gives the order to mount, and the squad climbs into the box. Before I can get in, he looks at me and says, “I just hope you live up to your famous name just for once, Melara,” looking down at me disdainfully. Why does everyone think that being taller than me gives them the right to make me feel even shorter? And why does everyone think I need to be reminded of who my mother was? Permission to shoot you, sir?
Not dignifying his insult with a comment, I climb into the box, trying to wedge in between Xanas and Tarkker to get away as far as possible from the open sides. Both guys give me a look that clearly says “What the fuck are you doing?” and there’s no time to argue. Trying not to let anything show, I take place beside Xanas and can just withstand the temptation to close my eyes against the height, because another sign of weakness would be just the right thing for the guys to have a little fun. And Dernel’s stupid comment was enough aggravation for today.
Sand, sand, sand and even… more sand. That’s everything I see from my place at the side. Not that I’m not used to it by now, but it’s still a very depressing sight, most when you’re already not your usual cheerful self. And I’m definitely not.
Half an hour after the take-off the guys became bored. So bored they finally forgot that they were all scared of me and started teasing me again. Dernel preferred to go and harass the pilots in the cockpit, which left me and the guys. The first one to break the relative silence was Private Winters, a boy only a little taller than me, scrawny and still looking like a teenager. And with a nasty streak. “Say, Melara… I was really happy I’d go on a mission with you. Because you know… I was hoping you could teach me some new tricks with the rifle.”
I tried to stare through him, pretending I hadn’t heard his stupid question, but then the Bothan joined him. “Yeah… or do you have any fancy nicknames for all of us? We could also think of one for you… like…maybe…” It was the Wookiee’s turn then to roar. All the guys - apart from Xanas, which did surprise me - laughed a little viciously, and Tarkker then said, “That’s a good one, At. She really behaves like one.” At this point I became suspicious, additionally to feeling just plainly sick of them making fun of me. And I wasn’t mistaken.
“Now, I think we’ll call you our queen. A Queen for One Year. Because, you know… you behave like one. You really behave like you’ve got every guy wrapped around your finger, but it’s only because you have tits, and that’s something really rare here. And it’ll only last a year.” They guffawed. It was then I thought I was in hell. They hadn't only thought up a cheesy and stupid nickname, they had also thought up a totally unimaginative nickname.
Just as I was about to answer when suddenly Xanas spoke up. “Will you all just shut up? We’re supposed to be on the same side, so treat her like an equal.” That was just great. Really, exactly what I absolutely didn’t need in that moment. It only made me look weaker, even if it wasn’t what Xanas had intended with it.
In a bout of quick-wittedness I just gave them a look of disdain, and then said to Xanas, “You know… they can keep on treating me like I wasn’t their equal. I mean, who wanted to be equal with them?” I swear, that for one small moment, I saw a vicious grin lighting up in his face, but instead of answering he chose to just nod and that was it. Since then they tried to coax me or him into another conversation or whatever they called that guffawing and bad jokes, and I had been sitting on the edge watching the endless sand dunes flying by.
And still… more sand. That is, until the box suddenly rocks to the side, making Tarkker and Winters almost fall off. All of the men are swearing loudly, threatening the pilots with all forms of a violent and small death for that move, but before either them or Dernel can react, the box rocks again, then sputters.
And then everything happens at once. Something in the back explodes, burning Winters, Tre’gar and Attittatlon. The ground is coming nearer at an alarmingly fast rate. And then I feel someone pushing me out of the box, and when I hit the ground, I fade into oblivion.
~*~
TBC in Chapter Three