~ Chapter one ~ part two ~
The AF Thunderbirds circle the Nimitz, a puff of hello smoke, while the hornets begin prepping for launch.
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The Admiral hangs up the comm.
Admiral - "We're go. Prepare crew for tis ...'armor' receipt. Tell the engineers I want full detail back concerning these 'enhanced effects' on these ships."
Captain - "Aye aye, Sir,"
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The ship sounds alarm, the fleet responds, their decks struck by pulse.
Admiral - "They say they can make us stronger, our weapons sharper, and they say for not a thing ..."
Captain - "Suspicion shared sir. All ships will detail. All have pre-checks to match, from today."
Admiral - "Thank you Captain. We begin."
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('Jam Master Jammin' by RunDMC)
Nocturne and Doe stare at the field of clones bouncing around shooting each other, several looking like her ~
Nocturne - "Whoa ... I'm everywhere ..." She looks at Doe. "And you're a girl ! And you're covered in grenades !"
Doe - Looking herself over, then to her smiling, "I like grenades."
Nocturne - "I like girls."
Lucretia - (on squealing comm) "Not a Fucking Valentine !"
Nocturne - "Fine ! Fuck ! Can you see us ?!"
Lucretia cycles through network layers in a three dimensional display, tuning between versions and layers to their virtual location.
Cycling through around them, a new location is generated with shared features.
Lucretia - "Got you. Gonna blow these mothe ..."
Nocturne - "! Waaaait !"
...
She looks at Doe - "Can I please keep all the Nocturnes ?"
Doe - "What the fuck !? Okay first. I can't fucking stop you from doing anythi ..."
Nocturne - Tackling her with a hug off-screen, "Thank you !"
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Dealer Mike plays on his Game-Brick, Nocturne jumping on the heads to Mario sounds, 8-bit side-scroll, Doe following, shooting back and forth ...
Mike - "This game fucking rules."
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Radar room ~
Watch - "Sir .. ?"
Lieutenant - "Yes crewman."
Watch - Uncomfortably, "Sir ... we've got ..."
Lieutenant - Sighs, "Just say it."
Watch - Exhales, "We've got radar ghosts, Sir." Turns to station. "Tracking for consistencies."
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Admiral - Into the comm, "Okay. Keep an eye on it." Hangs it annoyed and looks at the captain. "Am I wrong to wish for total failure ?"
Captain - "Yes sir, but not alone."
Admiral - "Crew ?"
Captain - A laugh. "Loving it. They all ... 'feel great.' Med checks are pretty good. Your ... 'command armor' sir ?"
Admiral - "After you. Hell with age before beauty. And what the hell am I supposed to even do."
Captain - "Sir your kidney really needs looking at. I can almost see it."
Admiral - "Yeah ... it really does. And I seem to have a solid instinct for that arena now. Almost tactical. And ... did you notice this ship is running quieter ?"
A pause ...
Captain - "So it is."
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('Regulate' by Warren G with Nate Dogg)
The
patrons of the club start to rise, heading for the door. The staff
line the way holding trays filled with collections of pistols, other
holding out larger upright.
Erzulie - "Compliments of the house."
Legba laughs ...
They take their last shots and drinks and file out.
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The F/A-18 Hornet fuel on the flight deck of a Nimitz class carrier, across the way a landing craft from the 62nd Marine (this is the Sixth Fleet of the Navy plus Nimitz class carrier support, 62nd has the landing craft).
Aboard the lander's open decks, the Marines check their gear, load, check partner's backs.
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The patrons load into their cars, as the doors close the view through their windows show the insides of garages.
The doors start opening, showing suburban streets, each others cars peeking out.
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A Hornet launches with the departure of the fuel car, another being guided out to the deck, side launch preparing.
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The cars roll out of the cul-de-sac, joined by others, a row line forming at the crossroads, looking ahead to the arena city.
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Legba smiles over the view in the stump at the club, Erzulie circling behind.