Fic: Taking Command G
Mar. 31st, 2007 09:38 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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tamingthemuseTitle: Taking Command
Author: SunnyD_lite
Fandom: Buffy Season 4
Prompt: Batting a Thousand
Word Count: 969
Rating: G
Feedback/Concrit: Yes please!
Disclaimer: All characters owned by Joss, Mutant Enemy and other corporations, played with by me.
A/N: Another new character for me (although I've drabbled him before) This prompt called for Riley Finn to step up to the bat. Hoping my Army speak's up to snuff.
"That will be all, Agent Finn. You and your teams report back after patrol."
"Yes, Professor." He turned to address the men standing in rows in front of him. "You heard her: regular patrol patterns. Fall out."
That still felt awkward, not the reporting to a woman, but not following the traditional chain of command. As strange as that felt, it was the least unusual aspect of this tour. No parade grounds or desert this time, instead he was earning credits to a Masters degree. A Masters; and he'd been the first of his family to even go to college.
Pulling on the head gear, Riley reviewed the three man teams falling out. Another unusual aspect, but one decreed by Professor Walsh, whom he'd been told would be his superior officer.
He, Graham, and Forrest were covering the campus' wooded areas. After the first week they'd learned to use night vision goggles to separate cool-blooded HST's from regular college extra-curricular activities. He'd had to thump Forrest when he'd indulged in watching what amounted to amateur porn. Civilians, even distracted civilians, weren't to know that the patrols were happening; luckily underage drinking helped with that. But they'd all comment how even the sober ones didn't seem to notice when they crossed paths by accident.
It was a sweet gig or at least that's what Forrest called it. He couldn't even think slang like that without cringing. Commands, military acronyms, even psychology terms, these he could say as easily as breathing, but hip? He was from Iowa and he always would be.
In fact, he'd felt smug, once he'd gotten over the confusion, when Forrest had thought he'd come up with his own term "buffy". Maybe he could be hip?
"Target acquired at 2 o'clock."
Hip didn't matter; he had a job to do. A job he was very good at.
Slipping into silent mode, he signaled the others to advance and circle the target. His first reaction at being cherry picked for the Initiative, an honor few were granted, was pride. At the subsequent debriefing, he worked to keep the disbelief off his face. Hostile Sub-Terrestrials? A whole genus of animals that preyed on humans? But he'd be in charge of his own Company, although a small one. He knew he wanted to be career Army and a command position always looked good. Even if he was reporting to a civilian.
Then he'd been moved to Sunnydale.
The HSTs were real. And many of them were animals, nightmare animals, but animals. Was he in the Army? Or pest control? Although he hadn't seem many six foot scaly pests with tentacles before.
His team did what he expected, what they'd been trained to do. It was a three point approach, at the HST's twelve, four and eight positions. They had modified armaments that were designed to handle all sorts of physiques. The target was surrounded, then hit and neutralized. "Another one bagged. Graham, call in a retrieval team. We've got more to do."
Ignoring Forrest's whispers of "Butt ugly calemari", he lead them through the pre-determined patrol pattern, edging their way around the campus. It was a cute little town, with beaches and California girls. If he'd joined the Army to see the world, this wasn't the part he'd expected to see.
He was fine with being a military dog catcher, but some of the HSTs, well, they were less animal-like. Even if Forrest maintained that anyone wearing 80's hair bands shirts deserved to be tazered, HST or not.
He didn't like it when they talked back. Another reason for stealth mode, a few of the female types tried less then honorable methods of avoidance. It almost worked the first time until her face changed. He'd been brought up never to hit a lady, but most ladies didn't have canines a couple inches long.
Patrol was almost over when Graham spoke up, "Next target, dead ahead, we've got a ranter."
Forrest, however seemed to get off on the vamps. Vampires, he was hunting vampires. Luckily his parents were used to the fact that he couldn't talk about his work. This HST was playing to stereotypes, wearing black leather and what predator would destroy camouflage with hair that bleached?
With a nod, Graham and Forrest hit it; then bound it with the re-enforced rope they'd been given as part of their new equipment. He glanced at his watch, time to report back. "We'll bring this one in ourselves. Fall back. Graham, you've got our six."
Forrest was beside him, with the HST over his shoulder. "So, what are we, batting a thousand? How many of these things are out here do you think?"
"Considering I didn't think HSTs even existed? Professor Walsh hasn't indicated if we're trying to clear the area or just get them specimens for study." He hated when the goal wasn't clear, but need to know was too much a part of his training for him to question it.
It had been a good patrol tonight. However, that was only part of their job. His cover, being a T.A., couldn't suffer. With mid-terms looming he both had to keep on top of his own courses and listen to the wild excuses his undergrads came up with. It was going to be a full day tomorrow, he check his watch again, or rather today.
"Let's get this done; I've got three chapters to read before a 10 o'clock class tomorrow."
Graham just nodded, good soldier that he was. Forrest rolled his eyes, but he wasn't supervised by Professor Walsh 24 and 7. "Forrest, since you seem to have an abundance of free time, I'll leave the writing of the reports to you."
Two HSTs bagged, no civilians hurt, and someone else to do the paperwork. Sometimes command could be sweet.
Author: SunnyD_lite
Fandom: Buffy Season 4
Prompt: Batting a Thousand
Word Count: 969
Rating: G
Feedback/Concrit: Yes please!
Disclaimer: All characters owned by Joss, Mutant Enemy and other corporations, played with by me.
A/N: Another new character for me (although I've drabbled him before) This prompt called for Riley Finn to step up to the bat. Hoping my Army speak's up to snuff.
"That will be all, Agent Finn. You and your teams report back after patrol."
"Yes, Professor." He turned to address the men standing in rows in front of him. "You heard her: regular patrol patterns. Fall out."
That still felt awkward, not the reporting to a woman, but not following the traditional chain of command. As strange as that felt, it was the least unusual aspect of this tour. No parade grounds or desert this time, instead he was earning credits to a Masters degree. A Masters; and he'd been the first of his family to even go to college.
Pulling on the head gear, Riley reviewed the three man teams falling out. Another unusual aspect, but one decreed by Professor Walsh, whom he'd been told would be his superior officer.
He, Graham, and Forrest were covering the campus' wooded areas. After the first week they'd learned to use night vision goggles to separate cool-blooded HST's from regular college extra-curricular activities. He'd had to thump Forrest when he'd indulged in watching what amounted to amateur porn. Civilians, even distracted civilians, weren't to know that the patrols were happening; luckily underage drinking helped with that. But they'd all comment how even the sober ones didn't seem to notice when they crossed paths by accident.
It was a sweet gig or at least that's what Forrest called it. He couldn't even think slang like that without cringing. Commands, military acronyms, even psychology terms, these he could say as easily as breathing, but hip? He was from Iowa and he always would be.
In fact, he'd felt smug, once he'd gotten over the confusion, when Forrest had thought he'd come up with his own term "buffy". Maybe he could be hip?
"Target acquired at 2 o'clock."
Hip didn't matter; he had a job to do. A job he was very good at.
Slipping into silent mode, he signaled the others to advance and circle the target. His first reaction at being cherry picked for the Initiative, an honor few were granted, was pride. At the subsequent debriefing, he worked to keep the disbelief off his face. Hostile Sub-Terrestrials? A whole genus of animals that preyed on humans? But he'd be in charge of his own Company, although a small one. He knew he wanted to be career Army and a command position always looked good. Even if he was reporting to a civilian.
Then he'd been moved to Sunnydale.
The HSTs were real. And many of them were animals, nightmare animals, but animals. Was he in the Army? Or pest control? Although he hadn't seem many six foot scaly pests with tentacles before.
His team did what he expected, what they'd been trained to do. It was a three point approach, at the HST's twelve, four and eight positions. They had modified armaments that were designed to handle all sorts of physiques. The target was surrounded, then hit and neutralized. "Another one bagged. Graham, call in a retrieval team. We've got more to do."
Ignoring Forrest's whispers of "Butt ugly calemari", he lead them through the pre-determined patrol pattern, edging their way around the campus. It was a cute little town, with beaches and California girls. If he'd joined the Army to see the world, this wasn't the part he'd expected to see.
He was fine with being a military dog catcher, but some of the HSTs, well, they were less animal-like. Even if Forrest maintained that anyone wearing 80's hair bands shirts deserved to be tazered, HST or not.
He didn't like it when they talked back. Another reason for stealth mode, a few of the female types tried less then honorable methods of avoidance. It almost worked the first time until her face changed. He'd been brought up never to hit a lady, but most ladies didn't have canines a couple inches long.
Patrol was almost over when Graham spoke up, "Next target, dead ahead, we've got a ranter."
Forrest, however seemed to get off on the vamps. Vampires, he was hunting vampires. Luckily his parents were used to the fact that he couldn't talk about his work. This HST was playing to stereotypes, wearing black leather and what predator would destroy camouflage with hair that bleached?
With a nod, Graham and Forrest hit it; then bound it with the re-enforced rope they'd been given as part of their new equipment. He glanced at his watch, time to report back. "We'll bring this one in ourselves. Fall back. Graham, you've got our six."
Forrest was beside him, with the HST over his shoulder. "So, what are we, batting a thousand? How many of these things are out here do you think?"
"Considering I didn't think HSTs even existed? Professor Walsh hasn't indicated if we're trying to clear the area or just get them specimens for study." He hated when the goal wasn't clear, but need to know was too much a part of his training for him to question it.
It had been a good patrol tonight. However, that was only part of their job. His cover, being a T.A., couldn't suffer. With mid-terms looming he both had to keep on top of his own courses and listen to the wild excuses his undergrads came up with. It was going to be a full day tomorrow, he check his watch again, or rather today.
"Let's get this done; I've got three chapters to read before a 10 o'clock class tomorrow."
Graham just nodded, good soldier that he was. Forrest rolled his eyes, but he wasn't supervised by Professor Walsh 24 and 7. "Forrest, since you seem to have an abundance of free time, I'll leave the writing of the reports to you."
Two HSTs bagged, no civilians hurt, and someone else to do the paperwork. Sometimes command could be sweet.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-01 11:42 am (UTC)Poor Riley. Life was so simple... once upon a time.
Nice character study of Riley's life before... complications, uncertainty, humanity.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-01 03:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-02 10:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-02 07:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-02 07:27 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading and commenting!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-03 12:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-03 03:11 pm (UTC)He was always an honourable man, even if his world view was a bit too two dimensional for the world he found himself in.
I loved the little touches you put in about his attitudes to life and command, his fellow soldier and his commander, especially this - he'd felt smug, once he'd gotten over the confusion, when Forrest had thought he'd come up with his own term "buffy".
That made me smile sadly for him.
Very nice insight into Riley when the world was still behaving in a way he could understand and live with.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 01:13 am (UTC)