Terrapin
The Terrapin is a CG cutter, WPB, Marine Protector Class. The idea here is that those have been replaced by... I don't know, something else by now. And so most of the Marine Protectors were being gotten rid of. The war I have some vague idea of a multifront war between some combination of China, Russia, India, Pakistan, the US, and possibly some others. Not sure what the sides would be, exactly. From the sounds of this, it'd be Pakistan/China allied, but... yeah. Not sure that makes sense.
Tell me what you think!
The “food service specialist” was not happy to be here, in the cramped galley of a Marine Protector-class patrol boat, scraping away at a hank of burned cheese on the griddle. He seized every chance to make his opinions known to poor Seaman Apprentice Rogers. The SA, a young, fresh-faced black woman, was the lowest ranker on the boat. She graduated in the first class of enlisted men from the new Oceanic and Atmospheric Corps basic training, and she was a non-rate, the lowest of the low, no regular duties. But even her, they only assigned to help Seaman Walter Kelly when there weren’t a single other thing she might do. Walter, secure in the superiority, made certain that she knew he was only here, in this lowly position, because of the lying OA Corps recruiter, who assured him that there was a need for his hard-won sociology degree.
Walter was on his second deployment to this rainy hell. The OACS Terrapin, was a surplused Coast Guard cutter with a surplused Navy/CG crew, covered in antennas and busily watching all the big, dangerous warships thronging the Indian Ocean these days. Walter kept his head down in the galley, *****ed at SA Rogers, and hoped none of the big boys decided they needed some target practice.
Rogers smiled hopefully at him. “Kelly, did you hear? Chief Zahren says that there’s an open slot at aviation surveyor school! Says I have a good chance of getting in, too.”
Walter snorted, and gave her a disgusted look, leaning with the heel of his hand against the edge of the griddle. “Why d’you want that ****? Why’d you put yourself in that situation? You know what they do with them, don’t you? You’ll be dropping out of C-130s over the goddamn Indian jungle, marking out trails for the damn pussy Marines to follow in whenever the hell they get over there. You got snakes and ****ed-off, indiscriminate guerillas and Pakistani and Chinese Army assholes who aren’t going to care that you’re a ****ing surveyor instead of a real soldier. Stay here—I’ll get you the cooking training you need and you don’t have to worry about getting shot or bit or poisoned.”
Snippet I wrote for creative writing homework. Whaddayathink? Further explanation, I don't want to prejudice you, so read it before you read this:
It was supposed, theoretically, to imitate the first paragraph of Flannery O'Connor's A Good Man is Hard to Find, and use a "difficult" character. Walter Kelly here is designed to be an asshole. Also, the Oceanic and Atmospheric Corps is my idea for the NOAA commissioned officer corps being militarized for an all-out war. The enlisted portion of the force is being formed around a core of Navy and Coast Guard men on loan, and the ships are surplused from other services as well, plus the ships NOAA already has.
The Terrapin is a CG cutter, WPB, Marine Protector Class. The idea here is that those have been replaced by... I don't know, something else by now. And so most of the Marine Protectors were being gotten rid of. The war I have some vague idea of a multifront war between some combination of China, Russia, India, Pakistan, the US, and possibly some others. Not sure what the sides would be, exactly. From the sounds of this, it'd be Pakistan/China allied, but... yeah. Not sure that makes sense.
Tell me what you think!
The “food service specialist” was not happy to be here, in the cramped galley of a Marine Protector-class patrol boat, scraping away at a hank of burned cheese on the griddle. He seized every chance to make his opinions known to poor Seaman Apprentice Rogers. The SA, a young, fresh-faced black woman, was the lowest ranker on the boat. She graduated in the first class of enlisted men from the new Oceanic and Atmospheric Corps basic training, and she was a non-rate, the lowest of the low, no regular duties. But even her, they only assigned to help Seaman Walter Kelly when there weren’t a single other thing she might do. Walter, secure in the superiority, made certain that she knew he was only here, in this lowly position, because of the lying OA Corps recruiter, who assured him that there was a need for his hard-won sociology degree.
Walter was on his second deployment to this rainy hell. The OACS Terrapin, was a surplused Coast Guard cutter with a surplused Navy/CG crew, covered in antennas and busily watching all the big, dangerous warships thronging the Indian Ocean these days. Walter kept his head down in the galley, *****ed at SA Rogers, and hoped none of the big boys decided they needed some target practice.
Rogers smiled hopefully at him. “Kelly, did you hear? Chief Zahren says that there’s an open slot at aviation surveyor school! Says I have a good chance of getting in, too.”
Walter snorted, and gave her a disgusted look, leaning with the heel of his hand against the edge of the griddle. “Why d’you want that ****? Why’d you put yourself in that situation? You know what they do with them, don’t you? You’ll be dropping out of C-130s over the goddamn Indian jungle, marking out trails for the damn pussy Marines to follow in whenever the hell they get over there. You got snakes and ****ed-off, indiscriminate guerillas and Pakistani and Chinese Army assholes who aren’t going to care that you’re a ****ing surveyor instead of a real soldier. Stay here—I’ll get you the cooking training you need and you don’t have to worry about getting shot or bit or poisoned.”
Also, yes, my formatting is probably a little ****ed up. Copy/pasting did screwy things. And it's so short because I had a three hundred word limit. And I'm at 368. So I'm actually working on cutting it down.