Alarms sounding all around them, Proteau and Liz were instantly on their feet. VanTedly, having taken a few steps away from the pinball machine, eyed the contraption warily.
"Ensign", the security officer called from across the room.
VanTedly looked over guiltily. "I didn't do anything!!", he proclaimed, his wild eyes pleading for lenience.
Proteau noted the small screwdriver lodged in the coin slot with mild irritation. "It's not the machine, Ensign", he explained. "We're under attack."
"Whew", VanTedly sighed, "that's a relief."
Liz walked over and grabbed the hapless, junior officer by the hand. "Come on, ijut'. We gotta go."
The ensign smiled as her fingers wrapped around his. "Mm'kay, sweetie", he muttered, following obediently.
Proteau shook his head as he secured the door behind them.
Broski took out his pent up aggressions on those assembled before him, pointing out shortcomings, flaws, and minor birth defects in each of them, and though several now wept openly, he had to admit he was feeling
better. He now focused his energies on the some positive reinforcement.
"You maggots are the worst bunch of low life, scum sucking wormsSpace Fleet has ever seen! If it wasn't against regulations I'd save the Wyzenhymers the trouble and frag you myself", he advised them,
pouring on the charm. "But since it is, I'll just say this: Shape up and ship shape or I'll shop til you drop!!" He paused, letting the words sink in. "Do you get me?!?
And though none of them did, they replied in unison, "Yes, sir!!"
"Don't call me sir!", the Corporal shouted angrily. "I drink my own body fluids!!"
"Yes, Sergeant", they responded as one, though obviously less sure of the answer.
His eyes shrank to slits and he clenched his fists repeatedly. "Sergeant!?! I ain't no bootlickin', pretty boy, whose vocabulary consists of the two words 'yes' and 'sir'!" He pulled a
large serrated knife from his boot, brandishing it threateningly. "Drop and give me fifty, dirt-bags", he ordered, "and if you don't make it, I'll cut your trigger fingers off."
He felt a firm hand come to rest on his shoulder, and swung around to see who had invaded his "me" space. Stauch looked back at him with the expression of strained patience that always let Broski know he'd
overstepped his boundaries.
"Is there a problem, Sarge?"
"I think maybe your being a little rough on them, Corporal."
Broski looked disgusted. "Geez-Louise, Sarge", Broski argued, "can't a guy raise his voice without everybody coming unglued?!?"
"Maybe this assignment wasn't such a good idea", Stauch observed dryly. "I'm afraid you're relieved of duties, Corporal."
"Fine!", Broski shouted angrily, his voice choked with emotion. "I never wanted this detail anyway!!" That said, he whirled and stalked out of the Escort's "Happy Day" day care facility,
leaving a herd of crying, mentally distressed children in his wake.
