Doom
Fleet: The Boot Camp Years
A Private Moment
By Cheezey
“I said stand at attention, worms!” Lieutenant Vardash’s nasal voice ordered harshly over the assemblage of relatively new fleet recruits. The unit, all elite soldiers born in the first or second circle of Doom’s nobility, was out in full dress uniform, standing in perfect formation in the courtyard in the shadow of the imposing Castle Doom. Nearly all of the high seats within the first circle of Doom’s nobility were scheduled to meet with King Zarkon that day for discussions with some visiting delegates from recently conquered planets, and since a number of them had children or grandchildren in the newest class of recruits, the order had come down from above for them to show off how well they were doing as honored members of King Zarkon’s elite fleet.
“Not bad,” Vardash said, eyeing the group critically as he paced in front of them. “You look nearly presentable for a group of lowly privates.” A satisfied smile spread across his chubby blue face. “Force Captain Yurak should be pleased.”
“And if he isn’t, Vardash’ll bend over to make sure he is anyway,” Private Yaklitz muttered under his breath, much to the amusement of the officer beside him, the young Doomite that would one day be known as Cossack the Terrible. Cossack managed to stifle his amusement to a mere snicker, which mercifully came when Vardash’s back was turned, and that was a good thing. It had only been a few weeks since that set of recruits had joined the fleet, but Vardash already made it clear that he had no use for Cossack or anyone like him—which in Cossack’s opinion probably meant anyone that was not a suck-up and had a sense of humor.
The recruits all stood stiffly as a gleaming black shuttlecraft bearing the skull insignia of the kingdom approached, and an officer wearing the uniform of a force captain stepped out. They all recognized him as he approached, for his distinctive canine-like features—a look unique to members of house Tonorm’oith—and the red eye implant on one side of his face were unmistakable. Yurak had arrived.
Vardash was at the force captain’s side almost immediately, and met him with a wide smile and a respectful salute. “Captain Yurak, I present the unit to you, Sir.”
Yurak acknowledged the other officer with a grunting nod, and strode purposefully over to the assemblage of soldiers that stood stiffly at attention. Slowly and deliberately he scanned the lineup, searching for any flaw among them. When he saw nothing out of order, he faced Vardash. “Nice work, Vardash. The unit appears to be in fine shape. Be sure they stay that way when King Zarkon and the nobility come by.”
“Of course, sir,” Vardash replied, flashing a fangy smile of unashamed ass-kissing admiration at his superior.
The slightest hint of a smile crossed Yurak’s harsh features as he nodded back to the lieutenant, and he then turned and took a few steps back toward the landing pad as the robots that had piloted his craft there took it out of the way to make room for the first arriving craft. Vardash turned and followed quickly.
As soon as their backs were turned, Cossack made a low observation under his breath to his bunkmate beside him. “If Yurak stops short, Vardash is going to go straight up his ass.”
At that, Yaklitz let out an undignified snort that was a poorly disguised snicker. “He might like it,” he muttered back.
“Vardash or Yurak?”
“Both.”
Unfortunately for Cossack and Yaklitz, one of their unit mates behind them also heard their remarks, and snickered a shade louder, loud enough to reach Yurak’s big ears, and the force captain turned around with an irritated no-nonsense glare on his face, fixed right on Cossack and Yaklitz. Naturally, Vardash too whirled around, although significantly prissier than his captain had. Yurak stepped over to the two guilty hecklers in the front row, his keen eye catching their poorly muted smirks, and stared them down harshly. “What was that, Private?” he snarled demandingly at Cossack.
Cossack cleared his throat and answered his superior as ordered. “That would be a private remark, sir.”
The force captain was not amused by Cossack’s cagey answer. “What?”
“I said it was a private remark to the private beside me, sir,” Cossack clarified.
Yurak’s yellow eye narrowed and fixed itself on Yaklitz. “And just what was this private remark about, Private?”
Yaklitz glanced from the pissy Vardash to the irate Yurak. “Well, sir, the private remark was a private observation between privates about a lieutenant.”
The scowl on Yurak’s face deepened and he turned toward Vardash. “Who are these jokers, lieutenant?”
Eyeing Cossack and Yaklitz with superior contempt, the sneer he regarded the two lower ranking officers with disappeared from Vardash’s face as he addressed the force captain. “Those two fools are Private Cossack and Private Yaklitz. They think they’re funny.” He enunciated the last word as if the word itself was distasteful to him.
“I see,” Yurak said slowly, eyeing the two of them as if they were bugs he was about to squash beneath his boot. “Is this true? Do you two witless worms find your role in his highness’ elite fleet amusing?”
“No sir,” Cossack and Yaklitz echoed in unison.
“And your lieutenant, your superior officer—do you find him amusing?” Yurak challenged with a growl.
Yaklitz shook his head. “Not at all, sir,” he replied honestly.
“Then what was so funny?” Yurak demanded.
“Our observation about him, sir,” Cossack told the captain.
Yurak’s hand found its way to the hilt of his saber, but he refrained from drawing it as he glared at them. “And what was this brilliant observation of yours, private?”
“It was not my brilliant private observation, sir, I merely agreed,” Yaklitz admitted.
“I asked what it was, private,” Yurak snarled, turning toward Cossack, “and I expect an answer. That’s an order!”
Keeping his eyes and posture fixed at attention, Cossack answered the force captain as ordered. “The private observation I made was a concern for your safety, sir,” Cossack explained in an even tone. “It occurred to me that if you were to suddenly stop short without giving due notice that Lieutenant Vardash was going to go straight up your ass,” he finished, before adding a respectful, “Force Captain Yurak, sir.”
“What!” Vardash exclaimed in an irate nasal tone. “Why you insolent—”
Yurak growled again at the blatant show of disrespect for the superior officer and got in Cossack’s face. “Private Cossack,” the force captain growled, “tell me just who do you think you are to insult a superior officer in such a grievous manner? Have you no manners or respect?”
Feeling uncomfortable under the heavy gaze of the irate Yurak, Cossack answered the force captain exactly as ordered. “I think I am Private Cossack, first son of house Aldar’ach and high seats Tadack and Visycka, sir, and yes, I have no manners,” he admitted, much to the amusement of a few of his unit mates beside him who wisely but ineptly attempted to stifle their snickers.
Vardash stepped up beside Yurak and sneered nastily at the private. “That might be the first thing you’ve gotten right since you showed up in this unit, you toad-pond born idiot.”
“Toad pond?” Yurak barked, and then smirked snidely at Cossack, who scowled visibly at the mention of his much-loathed origin anecdote. “I believe I’ve heard that story. One of the sons of house Aldar’ach was born in a toad pond on their Doom grape plantation. Is that you, Private Cossack? Were you born in a toad pond?”
“Not by choice, sir,” Cossack grumbled through gritted teeth, suddenly far less amused by the situation.
“Tell me,” Yurak said icily, “where does a lowly private born in the muddy waters of a toad pond get the arrogance to insult his superior officers?”
“With all due respect, Force Captain Yurak sir, I never insulted you, as I stated earlier it was a private concern for your safety that inspired the private observation to Private Yaklitz.”
Vardash narrowed his eyes. “And me, Private Cossack?”
“Perhaps I misjudged your distance from his ass, sir, but it looked close from my angle,” Cossack stated, feigning innocent ignorance.
Fed up with the nonsense and hearing the approaching roar of the first of the nobility’s ships, Yurak drew his laser saber and pointed it at Cossack. “You will apologize to Lieutenant Vardash immediately for your disrespect, Private.”
Cossack gave a subtle nod. “Yes, sir. Lieutenant Vardash, I humbly apologize for my disrespectful remark to you in regards to your proximity to Force Captain Yurak’s ass.”
“Very good,” Yurak said humorlessly. “Now you can apologize to me for wasting my time with your nonsense, Private.”
“I am very sorry, Force Captain Yurak, sir,” Cossack stated earnestly. “I had no idea that you had no issue with Lieutenant Vardash’s proximity to your flank. In the future I will keep any such observations completely private and not share them with Private Yaklitz where they will be less private and possibly overheard and thusly made public. You have my humblest apologies for wasting your valuable time, sir.”
The snarl on Yurak’s face deepened for a moment as he listened to the subtle insult within the acceptably worded apology, but the sound of the ship landing prevented him from taking issue with it. He re-sheathed his laser saber and leaned forward aggressively to get his parting words across with force. “You are to remain silent for the remainder of this drill, unless spoken to by a superior officer or a member of the nobility or royal court. Am I making myself clear, Private Cossack?”
Deciding that much like his underling, the force captain also had no sense of humor, Cossack nodded back obediently to Yurak. “Yes, sir.”
Without even a word of acknowledgment, Yurak then turned on his heel and strode arrogantly to the landing pad. Vardash meanwhile remained behind for a moment, and sneered triumphantly at them. Glancing at Yaklitz, who had the smirk of someone who was thinking of a snide remark, the lieutenant got in his face. “And that order of silence goes double for you,” he informed him in a dramatic huff, before flouncing off behind his superior.
Once the two senior officers were far enough away at the landing pad with their backs turned and greeting members of the nobility, Cossack silently made a face at both. Beside him Yaklitz mouthed an equally soundless remark in regards to his opinion of the two, and the two privates exchanged knowing smirks.
Privately.
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