Chapter 2: The Stowaways
Author's Note: Please note that in some spots of the below work, you'll find several deliberate misspellings of common words. I do this as a way to show emphasis on the accent for those speaking them. You should be able to quickly pick up the type of accent being conveyed but I'm leaving it as is as a way to add some flavor to the work. Enjoy!
"I don't know about you but I sure as fuck don't want to be dismembered and eaten."
"Who said anything about being eaten? Don't be such a baby, Smitty."
"A baby? It was you that said we'd get captured and cooked up! The last thing anyone wants is to become lunch for some cannibal Fourthie tribe."
"For crying out loud, how did they let such a baby into the navy? I'll never understand."
"They let me in because someone needed to watch out for your ass!"
Jack stayed glued to the wall of the ship as he listened to the argument between the two sailors. He was running a couple minutes late for an appointment but their raised voices stopped him in his tracks. One thing he liked to keep a close eye on was the mood of the ship's crew. He could usually find out about trouble long before the other officers noticed it.
"They let you in because your mother paid off the recruiter just to get your ass away from home."
"Don't you dare bring my saint of a mother into this, you cocksucker!"
"Imagine that, your mother and the word 'cocksucker' in the same sentence. Too bad the recruiter didn't have more of an imagination."
"Why I ought to punch—"
"Good evening, gentlemen," said Jack as he stepped out from around the corner. The commander deemed the conversation to have reached a boiling point and since all the talk about the Fourth Vector had ceased, he wanted to stop a potential fight from breaking out.
Luckily for him, the two sailors paled and quickly moved to stand at attention for their commanding officer. Jack had never seen a finer pair of crisp salutes than what the two nervous sailors offered.
"E-evening, sir," stuttered the smaller one on the left. He couldn't have been much more than a teenager. His eighteenth birthday present must have been the enlistment into the navy. Jack identified his voice as being the one most afraid of being eaten by cannibals.
Jack let slip a grim smile. It was one he had to practice often as an officer. A smile that offered the perfect combination of affable and seriousness. "I'm not disturbing you sailors tonight, am I?"
"No, sir! We're just on our way to our quarters. No disturbances, no, sir!" said the one on the right, also no older than a late teen.
"Good. Well, don't let me stop you," said Jack while stepping out of the way.
The two men quickly shuffled by and were well on their way down the passageway before Jack called out.
"Oh, boys? One more thing."
Stopping dead in their tracks, they both turned around at once.
Jack let the smile slip from his face. "The Fourthies don't eat brave Javan sailors. We're the toughest sons of bitches in the entire world, so we wouldn't taste too good to them. Get my drift?"
"Y-yes, sir. We were just saying—"
"All right, boys. Dismissed."
They didn't need any further instruction and once again bolted. Jack had nearly blinked twice before they were gone from sight.
From his side, Twitch leaned in. "You're evil, sir."
Jack chuckled. "Am I really? I've got to nip those kind of rumors in the bud before they get more embellished and end up tanking the moral of the entire crew."
Twitch began to smile. "I don't think those two are going to be able to sleep or shit anytime soon."
"Just what we need," said Jack with a chuckle. "More anxious sailors."
The two men continued walking down the passageway toward the marine barracks near the front of the ship. It had been just two days since Task Force 21 had left the port of Quiller's Cove on their mission to the Fourth Vector, and Jack still hadn't met the commander of the Marine battalion. Not that he'd been swimming in spare time—running three ships was a demanding job—but Jack made it a priority today to find out a little more about the Marine commander.
Jack and Twitch crossed into the barracks quarters and immediately came upon a sight of rowdy Marines engaged in a mock wrestling match in a nearby mess cabin. Jack raised an eyebrow at the sight and the stereotype of raucous Marines being true before continuing down the passageway to the quarters of the major in charge. A long row of various officer cabins passed by their feet until he came across the one he was looking for, immediately giving it a swift knock.
"Come in."
Pushing open the door, Jack came face to face with a dark-haired, brown-eyed man. His features were typical of Java and Jack guessed he was somewhere in his late thirties. The man didn't offer a smile but instead pursed his lips at the sight of the young commander.
"Major Greg Vaughn?" Jack asked.
"Yes, sir, you found him."
Jack thrust his hand out. "I'm Commander Jack Easterbrook."
Greg noticeably relaxed and then reached out to take his hand with a hearty shake. "Good to meet you, Commander. I apologize about my tense reaction just now. I thought you were yet another crew member telling me about some trouble my boys were in."
Jack chuckled. "They do seem to be a rowdy bunch, don't they?"
"Finest Marines in all of Java, sir," said Greg with a grin.
"Glad to hear it," said Jack while taking a seat in front of the major's desk. "I have to ask your forgiveness as well for it taking me so long to get down here in person. I thought running two ships was bad until they gave me command of another one."
Greg nodded. "Nothing to forgive, sir. Besides, I've gone whole deployments without so much as seeing the commander so you're off to a better start than most anyway."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "A whole deployment? That's not my command style. I prefer to know the officers on my ships. By the way, call me Jack, will you? No need for all the formality away from the crew."
Greg cast an eye to Twitch before settling back on Jack. "I can do that, Jack. And call me Greg as well. I have to say—you're a rather open-minded officer. I swear most officers get a hard-on for using their formal titles."
Jack started to chuckle. "I've known my fair share of officers like that but I like to think you can't get to know someone when you're still being formal."
"Well then, Jack, I think we're going to get along just fine," said Greg with a grin as he leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the table.
"So tell me about you, Greg. What made you enlist in the Marines?"
"That's a complicated answer right there, I'm afraid," said Greg.
"What's the short answer then?"
