Igraine — Roleplayer Guild

((collab with Idlehands, RoadRash and Igraine))

Mike stood before the small mirror in his cramped room, clad in his undershirt, trousers, and boots, carefully inspecting his shave. The last thing he wanted on his first real day as SRT Leader was to be caught wandering the halls of the Copernicus in a state that his old Drill Instructors would have considered “unsat”. After a few moments of scrutiny, he beamed a smile at his reflection, gave it the old “Fonzy” thumbs, then threw on his black-digital blouse and buttoned it down, smoothing the front before buckling his duty-belt into place.

The various bits-and-pieces of his SRT loadout went into their respective pouches; two pairs of handcuffs, some vicious orange-slime-of-pain-style pepper spray, a collapsible ASP baton, and his 3-battery mag-light that, truth be told, made a meaner club than his baton.

He slipped the two-shot TASER into its holster on his left hip, grip forward, then performed a quick function check on his M9A3 sidearm. The pistol was a favorite of his; originally a Beretta 96, the pistol had been retooled by the military to fire the NATO 10mm round, a bullet of surprising stopping-power. They’d added an integrated laser sight, a rail under the barrel for the attached flashlight, and then topped it all off with a threaded barrel, currently protected with a screw-on cap. He racked a round into the chamber, then ejected the magazine and slipped one more bullet into it to ensure a full load. Mike knew from experience that sometimes, that one extra bullet meant the difference between life and death.

The pistol went into its place in the tactical-holster on his right thigh, and Mike slipped his radio earbud into place and triggered the mic.

“Messiah, Messiah, this is Prophet. Radio-check, over.”

The lightly-accented voice of Corporal Jesus “Messiah” Lopez buzzed faintly in his ear.

“Roger, Prophet. Have you Lima-Charlie. It’s about time you got to work, ese.”

“Noted. Save me some lunch, chunk. Don’t wanna have to put you on half-rations. Prophet out.”

Mike chuckled, shaking his head at the familiar banter as he settled his freshly-pressed cover into place, and left his room for his patrol with a bounce in his step.

One uneventful hour later, Mike’s wandering patrol route led him into the garden section of the ship. He passed through the tropical area, a grin on his face as he lightly played his fingers over the leaves of real, honest-to-God trees for the first time in days. Wandering into the Mediterranean biome, he momentarily lost himself in the emptiness of the gardens, enjoying a few minutes with nobody else around so he could let his guard down. A rap song began bumping in his head, and he sang along out loud as he passed into the temperate-forest biome.

“I won’t deny it, I’ma straight ridah, you don’ wanna fuck wit’ me...Got da po’lice bustin’ at me...But they can’t do nuttin’ to a G’…”

Mike froze mid-song and mid-stride, caught in the middle of a shuffling dance that he pulled off with surprising grace. Blinking, he looked from Naomi, to Ester, then to Pauline, before breaking into a sheepish grin and settling back into a relaxed stance, his hands casually on his hips.

“Ladies! How might you three be doing today?”

They looked up at the strange sound that rang clearly in the quiet garden. The sight of the young sergeant singing and dancing made Naomi burst into laughter, her smile wide and full of amusement. Ester caught sight of him from over her shoulder and she felt a sudden tightening in her stomach. As he looked up at them and spoke, she looked away quickly, certain her face was turning a shade to match the ripe raspberries that lined the trail. It was him, that handsome soldier from the briefing and her palms began to sweat.

Naomi noticed her reaction and tried to contain her giggling at her composed older sister suddenly turning into a blushing schoolgirl. Ester’s dark eyes were wide as Naomi subtly pulled her around even as she resisted.

“We’re doing well, sir!” Naomi called out with a smile, one hand on her belly and the other on her sister’s arm. “How could we not in a place as lovely as this?”

“And we get a show at that!” Pauline quipped with a wide grin of her own, giggling softly, her fingers over her mouth for a moment before she forced them away from her mouth, and back to her side. Always, she would associate the sight of a man in military dress with safety, with comfort and security even in the most hellish of storms.

And besides, he did have a nice smile, and an easygoing way about him that simply radiated genuine warmth and good humor, no matter the more deadly accoutrements holstered, stowed away and tucked into his service belt.

Pauline glanced toward the sisters from the corner of her eye, still keeping that bright, pretty smile despite her genuine surprise at Ester’s sudden, silent timidity. For no reason she could name, Pauline’s first impression of the elder sister was one that whispered “eternally composed.” Ester’s reticence to speak was not one she expected, but no matter. It only goes to show the depths of a person aren’t always - well, almost never really - revealed by the surface they show the world.

“I’d ask you the same, but it seems safe to say anyone bursting into song in the middle of a forest is probably rather alright with the whole, wide world. Well, even if it is rap… ” Pauline wrinkled her freckled nose with another small laugh.

Mike winked, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey now, there’s nothing wrong with paying homage to the great 2Pac,” he said, raising a finger in mock admonition. “The man’s not just a rapper, he’s a legend.”

He took in Pauline’s face for a moment, trying to place the feeling of recognition she evoked, before snapping his fingers.

“I remember you. You were in one of the civilian convoys that made it to The Mountain. My team was with the group that helped bring you guys in.”

Mike’s thoughts flashed briefly back to the running battle against the Kind on the highway leading into The Mountain’s security perimeter. A brief smile of pride touched his lips, despite the horror associated with fighting the monsters. It had been his SRT group’s first action together, fighting alongside a contingent of MPs. His men had performed exactly as operators of their standing were expected to; all noise and fury, black-clad gods of war, leaping unhesitatingly from their vehicle and holding off a large group of Kind while MPs in ACUs had loaded the civilians from a damaged SUV into one of their transport trucks. He shook his head to banish the sounds of gunfire and shrieking monsters, the ghost-whiff of sulfur and cordite and blood the memories brought, and surveyed the other two women in the group.

“I’m Sergeant Davis, but pretty ladies who catch me singing get to call me Mike.”

Naomi nodded, “Well, hi there, Mike. I’m Naomi Ben Zeev, another holdover from the second shift as you can see. I’m afraid my sister, Ester Baum, and I missed that excitement.”

She nudged her when she spoke her name and Ester turned all the way around to face the smiling soldier. She stared at him for a moment and dropped her gaze, feeling Naomi squeeze her arm.

“These are her gardens,” she said, her elbow tapping against Ester’s side.

Ester looked up at the trees, the flowers and anywhere but Mike’s face and she nodded, feeling her ears burn, “Yes, I’m in charge of the botanical project for this shift. The gardens, the hydroponic farms, the labs...”

She trailed off and brushed a hand over her long brown hair, finally looking him in the eyes. And what clear green eyes they were. “If...you know, you want to see anything of mine...I mean of the farm or gardens...not that you would be interested in such, it’s not anything exciting.”

She cleared her throat, embarrassed at her awkwardness and it did not help that Naomi giggled at her slip of the tongue.

For one brief, mortifying moment, Pauline’s face went as pale as Ester’s was red, her heart in her throat when Mike exclaimed he remembered her. Dear God in heaven, no… She didn’t want to be known for that, recognized for what had been done to her - but then she sighed with relief, catching her breath while bright sunny Naomi and sweetly demure Ester spoke their own introductions. She heard the words, heard the sisterly teasing implicit in the giggles, and the sweet, silly memories of her own sister Eva helped set her racing heart right again.

Pauline was so grateful for the respite and so adored Naomi, she could never hold it against the kindly younger sister that she spoke of what her people endured on the way to The Mountain as merely “excitement.” Of course Naomi wasn’t there, and Mike spoke so lightly of what happened to the caravan from Rock Springs - how could she possibly know? Who could imagine the ravages of monsters as black and foul as anything found in the pits of Hell? Pauline could still hear the din of little Aaron Rice’s screams in her head, even deafened as she should have been by the gunfire and screeching shrieks of the Kind as they fed…

Quickly she shook her head, let out a breath as she smiled at Mike, and held out her hand to him in that quintessentially American greeting. “Pauline Weber, and I hope you’ll forgive me for not recognizing you too. You were kinda… Well… “ She ran the fingers of her other hand lightly about her face as she laughed, more her vibrant self with every passing moment.

“A little more incognito, what with the helmet, the glasses, that black thing up over half your face there. But I promise, if you break out in 2Pac again in all that gear? I’ll never make that mistake again.”

“Naomi, Ester...And Pauline,” Mike said, shaking her hand firmly and quirking his eyebrow in recognition of the name. He continued smoothly, changing the subject as quickly as possible. After an experience like hers, he was sure she didn’t want to be reminded of it.

“To be fair, we didn’t exactly have time for introductions, what with the gunfire and monsters all over the place.”

He favored the shy Ester with a grin, then gestured at the flora around them.

“So all of this is your baby, eh? That sounds like a lot of work. I’m glad I’ve only got four knuckle-heads I have to keep an eye on, instead of several jungles and a couple of farms.”

He reached out and brushed a few leaves, nodding thoughtfully to himself.

“My mom would love it here,” he murmured. “If the cedars in Lebanon have gone the same way as the trees in the States, I’m sure she’s pissed.”

Mike was never aware of referring to his parents in the present tense. It simply never entered his mind as a possibility that they’d be anything but alive and well. After all, Mike had learned everything he knew about being dangerous from his father, the Marine-Turned-Mercenary. Ryan Davis was the human definition of “lethal”, and Mike knew that somewhere down on that rock they’d left behind, his scarred up old man was keeping his mother safe and sound behind a wall of biting sarcasm and terrifyingly accurate gunfire.

Ester’s eyes brightened and despite her anxiety a small smile twitched her full lips. Indeed the gardens were her baby, to nurture and guide, to make them fulfill their potential. His mention of the famous cedars of Lebanon made her forget her self consciousness for the moment.

“Your mother has a special affinity for the Cedrus libani?” she asked, surprised. “A very historical plant, the Phoenicians conquered the Mediterranean on ships made of those trees. King Solomon built his temple out of cedar.”

She paused, realizing she was running away with the subject that was dear to her. Ester looked away, toward the way Mike had come from. “If you wish to see them, they’re in that room you just came out of. At the back, samples procured from Mount Lebanon itself. Not many Americans appreciate the value of those trees.”

Ester dared a smile at him, despite the heated blush she felt rise again in her face. Naomi kept quiet, biting her lip to stifle a laugh at her sister. Of course the only thing that would bring her out of her shell was to talk about her work. She hoped it at least broke the ice with her and she would relax.

And just as Ester began to bloom so sweetly, Pauline’s petals wrapped slowly, almost protectively about her though the ever-present smile never left her face, rather like a mask. Mike was a kind man, a good soul without a doubt and a brave one at that. But the lift of his eyebrow, the hesitant start she felt in his handshake and the too-smooth change of subject said all she needed to know, of what he truly knew about her. The soldier would never mean to hurt her, not in the least. But she hurt anyway, and the young woman took a step back as the talk turned to the value of Lebanon’s cedars.

“Naomi, I completely forgot, I meant to go see about some of the Third shift in the hangars,” she said in a soft whisper, not completely a lie though she wished Father Heffernan was awake so she could make the confession anyway. Pauline lifted to her toes to give her friend a light, swift kiss on the cheek, taking her fingers and giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Ester, I’m sure I’ll catch up with you soon enough - and thank you for everything. The tour. The figs. The ginger... “ Pauline did truly laugh then, a soft tinkling like sunshine as she turned to Mike.

“And so good to… Well, we’ve met before, haven’t we? See you again, I guess?” The young woman nodded, with another smile, a little tighter but closer to genuine nonetheless as she turned toward the exit. To walk, not jog. Certainly not run.

Naomi noticed the sudden change in her light hearted friend, like the drawing of the blinds against a sunny day. Something had reminded her of...that. She looked at Ester and though her sister was shy and introverted she seemed to be relaxing and did not need her, not the way Pauline might.

“Well, I hate to say hello and goodbye but the baby is kicking me in just the right spot and I’ve got to find a restroom,” she said cheerfully, giving Mike a wave. “Enjoy the gardens, it’s a welcome respite from all the hologrammed nature around the ship.”

She moved quickly after Pauline, her slender frame swaying slightly as she walked. Naomi caught up and walked in silence next to her, reaching out after a moment to touch her hand briefly. She wanted to go to the cryobed area anyway and it was halfway to the hangars.

Ester watched the go, her lips slightly parted in confusion at the sudden retreat. She was alone now with Mike and she slowly turned back to him, unsure what to say. Her sister had abandoned her but nature called, as it were.

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