Team Building with Jack Landors (SPD, A Squad, #18, K+)
characters: SPD’s A Squad (Charlie, Cruger)
prompt #18: joker (wild card)
word count: 700
rating: K+
summary: Charlie contemplates the future.
Team Building with Jack Landors (joker)
by *Andrea
She was on the mess hall balcony when she heard footsteps approaching. She was supposed to be meeting Rose before they went on patrol with A Squad that afternoon, so she didn’t turn. It wasn’t the first year she’d seen a tree in the mess hall to mark the holiday season, but the banner behind it was new--and a source of endless entertainment.
Apparently, everyone on the base was expected to sign the thing. She hadn’t gotten that memo, but it was clear from the ladders and constant activity around the tree and across the banner that what had started as an individual tribute was turning into an inter-squad competition. Who could write “thank you” the largest and the loudest?
“Cadet,” Cruger’s voice rumbled from behind her. “You are out of uniform.”
She straightened, pulling off a crisp turn and a salute that even a year in the jungle couldn’t dull. “Sir!”
Cruger lowered his head, acknowledging the gesture without returning it. “As you were.”
She hesitated, but they two hadn’t always stood on ceremony. She relaxed a little, though she didn’t turn back to the railing, and offered, “I don’t think that’s possible, sir.”
The base commander seemed to consider this, indicating that he had taken it just as she meant it. “No one is asking you to be the team that left this planet a year ago,” he said after a moment. “But you should know that Jack Landors’ A Squad is a temporary measure. It exists only until you and yours are ready to hold morphers again.”
Now she did turn away. “Half my team doesn’t even want morphers anymore,” she muttered. “Let Jack keep them. At least he’s got people doing good with them.”
“Cadet.” His tone was oddly gentle, despite the obvious reprimand. He was clearly waiting for her to acknowledge him before he continued.
“Sir.” She didn’t pause for his reply. “I’m sorry, but we’ve been through too much. We’re not cadets anymore. We can’t go back to being students. No amount of counseling is going to erase what happened to us, and just being able to walk around the base without snapping doesn’t make us functioning members of the organization.”
She felt better for having said it, but his answer took her by surprise. “In case you hadn’t noticed,” the base commander told her, “being able to walk around the base without snapping actually puts you ahead of several members of this organization.”
Bracing her hands on the balcony railing, she didn’t say anything, and he let the silence lengthen. Finally she said, “Sophie is a good team leader.”
Cruger came to stand beside her, ostensibly surveying the mess hall. “So are you, Charlie.”
She shot him a sharp look that wasn’t returned. She didn’t think he’d ever called her by her nickname before. “I was,” she said after a moment. “Sir. But our squad is gone. There’s no point in trying to rebuild something that doesn’t exist.”
“Perhaps not,” he said. His voice revealed nothing. “Perhaps it’s time to look to the future.”
Her fingers clenched, white on the railing that separated her from the rest of the room. With Miguel gone, Des and Don under pressure from their families to resign, and Rose making noise about taking time off--wanting a vacation, of all things--the future looked bleaker than she could have imagined just a few short weeks ago. What was there for her, now?
“Would you accept a promotion to officer?” Cruger asked abruptly.
She stared at the top of the tree, bright star glinting just above the middle of the banner. “Hypothetically speaking?”
“No,” he told her. “Unofficial, yes. Hypothetical? No.”
“You want to promote me,” she said flatly.
“I want to give you a medal,” he said. “Just haven’t found the right one yet.”
She had to smile. “I suppose they don’t make greeting cards for torture survivors,” she muttered. He either got it or recognized it as irrelevant, because he waited for her to add, “I don’t know, sir. That’s the most honest answer I can give you.”
“Consider the offer made to your entire team,” Cruger rumbled. “I know what you’ve been through. I know it’s not over. But I made you A Squad Red for a reason, and I’d hate to lose you now.”
She could think it all she wanted and it still hurt to hear it aloud. SPD wasn’t anything to her anymore without the people who made it home. And she was starting to realize that there might not be anywhere else that would be, either.
“I’d hate to lose us too,” she said quietly.
prompt #18: joker (wild card)
word count: 700
rating: K+
summary: Charlie contemplates the future.
Team Building with Jack Landors (joker)
by *Andrea
She was on the mess hall balcony when she heard footsteps approaching. She was supposed to be meeting Rose before they went on patrol with A Squad that afternoon, so she didn’t turn. It wasn’t the first year she’d seen a tree in the mess hall to mark the holiday season, but the banner behind it was new--and a source of endless entertainment.
Apparently, everyone on the base was expected to sign the thing. She hadn’t gotten that memo, but it was clear from the ladders and constant activity around the tree and across the banner that what had started as an individual tribute was turning into an inter-squad competition. Who could write “thank you” the largest and the loudest?
“Cadet,” Cruger’s voice rumbled from behind her. “You are out of uniform.”
She straightened, pulling off a crisp turn and a salute that even a year in the jungle couldn’t dull. “Sir!”
Cruger lowered his head, acknowledging the gesture without returning it. “As you were.”
She hesitated, but they two hadn’t always stood on ceremony. She relaxed a little, though she didn’t turn back to the railing, and offered, “I don’t think that’s possible, sir.”
The base commander seemed to consider this, indicating that he had taken it just as she meant it. “No one is asking you to be the team that left this planet a year ago,” he said after a moment. “But you should know that Jack Landors’ A Squad is a temporary measure. It exists only until you and yours are ready to hold morphers again.”
Now she did turn away. “Half my team doesn’t even want morphers anymore,” she muttered. “Let Jack keep them. At least he’s got people doing good with them.”
“Cadet.” His tone was oddly gentle, despite the obvious reprimand. He was clearly waiting for her to acknowledge him before he continued.
“Sir.” She didn’t pause for his reply. “I’m sorry, but we’ve been through too much. We’re not cadets anymore. We can’t go back to being students. No amount of counseling is going to erase what happened to us, and just being able to walk around the base without snapping doesn’t make us functioning members of the organization.”
She felt better for having said it, but his answer took her by surprise. “In case you hadn’t noticed,” the base commander told her, “being able to walk around the base without snapping actually puts you ahead of several members of this organization.”
Bracing her hands on the balcony railing, she didn’t say anything, and he let the silence lengthen. Finally she said, “Sophie is a good team leader.”
Cruger came to stand beside her, ostensibly surveying the mess hall. “So are you, Charlie.”
She shot him a sharp look that wasn’t returned. She didn’t think he’d ever called her by her nickname before. “I was,” she said after a moment. “Sir. But our squad is gone. There’s no point in trying to rebuild something that doesn’t exist.”
“Perhaps not,” he said. His voice revealed nothing. “Perhaps it’s time to look to the future.”
Her fingers clenched, white on the railing that separated her from the rest of the room. With Miguel gone, Des and Don under pressure from their families to resign, and Rose making noise about taking time off--wanting a vacation, of all things--the future looked bleaker than she could have imagined just a few short weeks ago. What was there for her, now?
“Would you accept a promotion to officer?” Cruger asked abruptly.
She stared at the top of the tree, bright star glinting just above the middle of the banner. “Hypothetically speaking?”
“No,” he told her. “Unofficial, yes. Hypothetical? No.”
“You want to promote me,” she said flatly.
“I want to give you a medal,” he said. “Just haven’t found the right one yet.”
She had to smile. “I suppose they don’t make greeting cards for torture survivors,” she muttered. He either got it or recognized it as irrelevant, because he waited for her to add, “I don’t know, sir. That’s the most honest answer I can give you.”
“Consider the offer made to your entire team,” Cruger rumbled. “I know what you’ve been through. I know it’s not over. But I made you A Squad Red for a reason, and I’d hate to lose you now.”
She could think it all she wanted and it still hurt to hear it aloud. SPD wasn’t anything to her anymore without the people who made it home. And she was starting to realize that there might not be anywhere else that would be, either.
“I’d hate to lose us too,” she said quietly.