Editing Story:ROAD TRIP! (Warhammer High)/Part One (section)

===Sudden and Total Panic===

Remilia chuckled, clutching her arm to her chest.  “Sure, I could use a laugh.”

Alex grinned.  “All right.”  He tapped the call button and turned to face the others.  “Do we know where it is?”

“I do,” Venus said.  “I’ve seen the ship’s layout before.  Four decks down, four corridors to port.”

“Cool,” Alex said.  The hatch split open behind him.

“Ah, there you re, my Lords and Ladies,” Commander Haarlan said, grabbing the hatch and holding it open.  “I was wondering where you were.”

“Oh, good morning, Commander,” Venus said brightly.  “We were just going to grab some food.”

“Very well,” the Commander said.  He inhaled sharply when he saw Freya’s and Remilia’s injuries.  “What happened to you two, my Ladies?  You both look like you lost a fight!”

“I lost a fight, Freya didn’t,” Remilia admitted.  Haarlan looked from one to the other, clearly disconcerted.

“I see…my Ladies, I feel that I must ask if it is appropriate for you two to be fighting one another like that,” Haarlan said.

“It’s a sparring match.  People get hurt,” Freya said.  “We heal quick.  Now…breakfast,” she said.  She tapped the button for the enlisted mess’ deck and the lift took off.

“So, Commander, what do you have in mind for today?” Jake asked, as the lift plunged into the decks below.

Haarlan turned to look at him.  “Well, we have the limited recreation facilities one expects to find on a patrol ship, but they are suitable for a trip as short as yours.  I thought I would show you around them, and then perhaps give you a brief history lesson about the ship itself.”

“That sounds fun,” Jake said.  The hatches parted and the group disembarked.  Haarlan noticed what deck they were on, and held up a hand.

“My Ladies, Lords, this is the wrong deck, I think,” he said.

“I thought the mess was on this deck,” Freya said.

“There’s a mess here, Madam, but it’s meant for the enlisted personnel only,” Haarlan explained.

Venus turned to face him, affecting surprise.  “Are you saying the food the Navy feeds my father’s Legionary crews isn’t good enough for us?”

Haarlan caught himself before he could snap a reply.  “No, my Lady, but the Captain himself has asked me to invite you to a meal in his Hall.”

“Ah.”  Venus nodded reluctantly.  “Right.  Well, that’s fair.  We can try the other messes tomorrow.  Right guys?”

“Sure,” Freya said, shrugging.  “Lead the way, Commander,” she said.  Before he could lead them back to the lifts, however, a pair of Naval armsmen emerged from a cross-corridor, both laughing at something.

“The hell she could,” one man boasted.

The other one scoffed.  “Clean through the wall, man…oh shit,” he said.  He stopped cold as he spotted the cluster of nobility down the hall.  His eyes darted to Remilia, then locked on the bulkhead above the group.  He snapped to razor-sharp attention.  “Good morning, your Highnesses,” he stuttered.  The other man went white.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Freya said, her voice suddenly dropping several decibels.  “What were you two just discussing?”

“The outcome of a purely hypothetical fight, my Lady Russ,” the second guard stated immediately.  He was sweating bullets.

Haarlan was opening his mouth to question the man when Freya suddenly moved.  She marched down the corridor, brushing past both men and rounding the corner.

“Oh, fuck, they didn’t…” Remilia muttered, jogging after her cousin.  “Freya, wait, don’t get mad,” she called after her.  The rest of the group hurried to catch up.

“I’m not mad yet,” Freya said under her breath, rounding another corridor and breaking into a quick trot.  She hustled down the corridor, pausing outside one of the hatches to the mess.  “Let’s see who gets to walk home,” she growled, pushing the hatches open.

The room looked like a theater at that moment, with a whole array of massive holoscreens set against the walls.  Most displayed Salamander Legionary icons or Navy flags of varying description, but one didn’t.  Not coincidentally, it was also the one that had the attention of most of the room, and the one with a shaky recording of Freya and Remilia sparring on it.

Freya stood in the middle of the hatch, staring up at the projection of herself, as the others caught up.  “Oh…fuck,” Remilia said under her breath.  She risked a glance sideways at Freya.  Her cousin was completely expressionless.  That boded poorly.

A few crewmen near the hatch spotted her and rose to attention, or gasped aloud.  Others, hearing their reaction, turned to see what was going on, and their reactions spread like ripples through a pond, until only those right under the screen hadn’t noticed Freya’s arrival.

The room was silent.  Clearly, the recording had been made and shuttled down to the mess while the girls had been in the shower, and was on its third or fourth loop.  Freya took a few silent steps into the room, eyes glued to the display.  On the screen, her hands blurred, slamming Remilia’s blows aside.  Her eyes flickered as her virtual leg rose to divert a kick.  Finally, some frantic whispers caught the attention of whoever was at the controls, because the video paused.  The whole room turned to face the Lady Primarch.

Russ took another few steps into the room, and a clearing emerged like magic before her.  Her eyes narrowed to slits.  “Well…somebody didn’t listen to me,” she whispered.

Venus took a hesitant step towards her, but Remilia’s hand on her shoulder brought her up short.  Remilia shook her head, sending her wet blond hair sliding side to side.  Venus bit her lip, staring at Freya’s back.

Freya sighed, rubbing her brow wearily.  “It’s not even a good recording,” she said aloud.  A few nervous titters greeted her announcement, but they were quickly shushed.  She stared at the man at the controls, transfixing him from across the massive room.  “Needless to say,” she said, her voice carrying over the rows of seated sailors, “if that recording leaves this ship, you do not.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, Princess Russ,” the man squeaked.

Freya looked over her shoulder at Remilia.  “Anything to add, Remilia?” she asked.

“It’s not a very good recording,” Remilia said.

“See, that’s what I said,” Freya said.  She turned back to the man at the controls.  “Have you ever seen a Space Wolf angry?  Yes,” she said, cutting over his desperate reply.  “Yes, you have.”  She gestured up at the paused recording, which was showing Freya savagely throwing her cousin across the ring.  “Reflect on this.”  She waited long enough for him to delete the recording before turning and walking back through the hatches, closing them behind her.

Haarlan broke the silence.  “Lady Primarch Russ…I cannot apologize enough,” he said.  His voice and face were pinched with awkwardness and shame.  “I promise that the sailor responsible will be held accountable for breaching your privacy.”

“What privacy?” Freya asked.  “We were in an open gym.”

Remilia shrugged.  “I guess I can’t get too angry either.  It’s not like people don’t record their own sparring matches from time to time.  I’ve done it.”

“If anything, it goes to show what a huge badass I am,” Freya said airily.  Remilia laughed.

“Modest, too.”

“I…am confused, my Ladies.  I though from your reaction before that this was angering you,” Haarlan said, flustered.

“Eh.  It’s hardly the first time,” Freya said.  She started back down to the lifts.  “Like the time at the opening ceremony for the Startseite Public Center, remember that?” she asked.

“Oh man, I thought Dad was going to blow a circuit,” Remilia said.

Freya noted Haarlan’s bewildered expression.  “Listen, I’ll spell it out when we speak with Captain Roemer, all right?”

“As you wish, my Lady,” Haarlan said, still confused.  The lift opened, and the party entered, heading up to the Captain’s Hall.

When they arrived, Roemer was standing behind the table, downcast.  Several of his senior officers were there as well, and the entire scene reminded Freya of a group of schoolchildren called to task by a teacher.  “My Ladies Russ and Dorn, I offer my sincerest apologies for the misbehavior of my crew this morning,” Roemer began without preamble.  “You deserved better than that.”

Remilia spoke up.  “Captain, please.  We were sparring in an open gym.  We’re not angry.  To be honest, I kind of expected this.”

“Like I was telling Commander Haarlan, this isn’t the first time this has happened,” Freya said, sitting down at the table.  Venus took her place at the head of the rectangular table as she had before, and Jake and Roemer took their seats on either side, Jake feeling out of his depth, and Roemer confused.

“A few years back some paparazzi took a clip of me, Remilia, and Furia sparring in the new gym they opened back home,” Freya continued.  She decided to skip the details of what Dorn and Angron had done when they found out.  “Seriously, it happens.  Don’t take it personally.”

“I appreciate your generosity, my lady, but it still shouldn’t have happened,” Roemer said, determined to bear some guilt over the incident.

Venus shook her head.  “Captain, when you get two athletic women fighting in front of a crowd of sixty men, someone’s going to record it.  Let it go,” she said, the vaguest hint of command in her voice.

Roemer sighed, torn.  He hadn’t expected leniency to be their choice, but he was relieved that his brief stewardship would not be tarred on the second day as well.  “As you wish, Lady Primarch Venus,” he said.  “I thank you for your understanding.”

The party dug into breakfast, and Remilia privately concluded that that was for the best.  On a ship that size, processed protein bars would have been they could have expected from the enlisted’s mess.  The spread of veal, fresh eggs, and baked goods the Captain had laid out was much nicer.
Alex noticed that there were no Salamander serfs aboard this time.  Venus noticed the direction of his sight, and arrived at the same conclusion.  “Captain, will Sieur Isaac not be joining us?”

“He wanted to make sure that the special cargo that Lord Primarch Vulkan instructed we carry was arranged for expedited offloading,” Roemer explained.

“What is that cargo, exactly?” Venus asked, picking up a bran muffin.

“If I may, Captain?” one of the officers at the table asked.  Roemer nodded.  “The cargo is a prototype LRMk.15 Punisher, outfitted with a few new Martian upgrades,” the officer explained.  “Lord Vulkan volunteered his Legion to test it.”

“Oh, I see,” Venus said.  “Well, I’ll see him later today anyway, I know.”

“Are you sure you want to do that, my Lady?” Haarlan asked in surprise.  “After this morning?”

“Bah, if someone wants to record it, I won’t care much.  It’s not like there aren’t entire holo archives of me in swim meets,” Venus scoffed.  “Besides, he’s had it coming for years.”

Jake swallowed some toast.  “What did he do, anyway?”

“Oh, nothing.  It’s an old, fuzzy, loving hatred,” Venus said.

“Ah.”  Jake tried not to look like he was scarfing the food.

Venus finished her drink and set it down, her eyes narrowing.  “Also…we heard something yesterday, Captain Roemer.  Is it true that no Salamander besides me has ever set foot aboard?”

“No, my Lady, several Techmarines were present for the ship’s consecration,” Roemer said.  “However, none have been aboard since except for brief inspections and cargo loading.”

“Interesting.  So…you’ve probably never seen Nocturnean combat techniques up close, have you?” she asked with a grin.  “Isaac taught me for years.”

“You know…if bootlegs are going to be an issue…” Jake suggested slowly.

Venus smiled.  “I was planning on asking Isaac to record this, actually.  No better way to learn your weaknesses than watch yourself get your ass kicked.”

Remilia snorted.  “You can bench-press a car.”

“Yeah, but Isaac’s a damn viper.”

Roemer cleared his throat.  “If you wish, my Lady, you could just have the gymnasium to yourself and have a servo-skull record the bout.”

“Ooh.  Good idea, Captain.  We’ll do that, I think,” Venus said, pouncing on the idea.  “We have…two and a half hours.”

Alex leaned forward, all business.  “What punishments shall we inflict upon people who set it to music?”

“Oh, shut up, Alex,” Venus giggled.