Dead Marines Wear Pink

[Cassie Granger 0]

Dead Marines Wear Pink

 

Cold water, full force, cascaded from the crown of her head, over her face, and into the sink, washing away most of the mud and grime. Most being the operative word. The chill jerked her awake as Cass watched it splash into the common locker-room sink and swirl down the drain. Major Ishiiu, Marine battalion commander, had added a few special touches since Cassie’s last run through the combat course - insect infested mud pits, loose gravel in the live fire area, and a slew of blind corners rigged with booby traps loaded with dye.

 

She grabbed the lava soap, lathered up, and began to work it over her face and neck, hoping the red would wash away without taking off a dermal layer. Fat chance.

 

“The Fleeter’s right, you know. About the team.”

 

Cass gave a dismissive grunt as Moa elbowed in next to her. He had insisted on teaming up, despite her protests. She wanted to be alone, take out each target, negotiate every dung hole with the freedom to shout any profanity that came to mind and then some. But, hell, most of her team knew how she was anyway, so why the obsession?

 

“If you’d stayed with the team, you’d still have your head,” Moa continued, fighting her for the soap.

 

Even with her eyes closed, she could see him smirk. He’d watched from a distance as the red die took off her head and the monitor stepped out to tag her. It was a get it right mission. She’d have to do it all again.

 

“Leaving the team was unavoidable,” she spluttered, picking a roach wing from her teeth. “Part of the Major’s drill.”

 

“Bull, Sunny. You made that call.” His voice was serious now, up close and personal. “And he’s still right.”

 

She grabbed a towel, snapping it across his shoulder on her way to the showers. ‘Course he was right. It was the whole Boy Scout thing she couldn’t get past. Like the Marine ‘better than thou’ attitude that was drilled into her from Boot. Harder to get rid of than the dye from Major Ishiiu’s booby trap. Which now showed pink; not her favorite color, but at least it went with the purple streak from Operation Whiteout.

 

A full ten minutes later she appeared at her locker in a loose tee and sweats, a towel draped over her head where she’d been working the pink out of her hair. No dice. Whatever. After two full shifts he needed some serious rack time, and was headed in that direction...

 

...until red alert sounded.

 

A slam of the locker door and Cass joined the stampede, adrenaline rush clearing her brain, wiping away her previous double-shift weariness. Zero four ten as she slapped the bridge lift call button. What the hell was going on?

[Crash Calestorm 0]

Not only do dead marines wear pink, but they also pick roach wings from their teeth after one of the infamous 'Major Ishiiu Training Ops'? Insect infested mud pits, loose gravel and live fire....um....picking a roach wing from your teeth?

 

....a roach wing in your teeth?

 

*That's* why Cale is a retired Starfleet Navy combat pilot that prefers her fly bys to roaches.

 

Oooorah Sundance! Yeah!

[Cassie Granger 0]

Down 'n' dirty is what we do, Ma'am.

 

Semper fi!

[STSF_Scooter 0]

Down 'n' dirty is what we do, Ma'am.

 

Semper fi!

 

I've had my share of "down n' dirty" TYVM. I'm going to remain where I can stay...clean. And have my bed linens turned down, and be able to visit the breakfast buffet.

 

"Starfleet- If it isn't catered, we don't go."

[Crash Calestorm 0]

Down 'n' dirty is what we do, Ma'am.

 

Semper fi!

 

Your log is the awesomeness, but it was a roach wing in your teeth Gunner.

 

ROFL. Calestorm might be a big, bad starship captain, but her Player went all grossed out!

 

I've had my share of "down n' dirty" TYVM. I'm going to remain where I can stay...clean. And have my bed linens turned down, and be able to visit the breakfast buffet.

 

"Starfleet- If it isn't catered, we don't go."

 

I heard that Commander Wesley! 'Fleet, forward to the buffet!