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The New Marines in Town (Fighter Hangar/Observational Lounge)

Posted Aug. 11, 2022, 9:29 p.m. by Major Eleanor "Iron Lady" Carnegie (Pilot, Blue Squadron Leader) (Joana Ribeiro)

With the Rangers docked in their designated slots in the Brian A. Olinski’s massive Fighter Hangar, and with the Crew Chiefs left to their own assignments, the twelve members of the ship’s newest Recon team made their way to the lounge, as it had become tradition with their every new assignment.

“So, hold on a second. You’re Hudson’s son?” Andrew “Charlie” Brown, pilot of the Sentinel 2, asked to their newest Squad member.

“As in Lieutenant General Hudson?” It was the Squadron Commander Eleanor “Iron Lady” Carnegie’s turn to ask in the middle of a sip of her vodka.

Andrew Hudson III was the newest addition to the team, manning the Sentinel 4 with the other two members of his crew. He nodded his head proudly. It was clear that he liked to be the center of attention.

“Isn’t your sister a big shot fighter pilot? Devri Hudson, is it?” The question came from Lauren “Ice Tea” Tadych, the Sentinel 3’s Sensor Operations Officer.

“Yes.” The younger Hudson smiled. “She and Dad were both fighter pilots.”

“How the hell did you land in Recon then?” The voice was that of James “Doc” Sloan, Flight Engineer for the Sentinel 1. “You must be the black sheep of the family then, no?”

Eleanor’s eyes widened at the words, and the glance that she exchanged with Sloan told Hudson everything he needed to know.

“Oh no… please don’t…”

Eleanor’s lips curled into a smile. “Oh yes.” Rising from her seat, she lifted her glass, cleared her throat, and proclaimed loud enough for the whole lounge to hear. “Here ye, here ye, here ye! The Sentinels proudly welcome their newest member, Andrew “Black Sheep” Hudson.”

As if on cue, Sloan jumped to his feet shouting. “Three cheers for “Black Sheep” Hudson! Hip hip…”

“HURRAY” The rest of the table joined in.

“Hip hip!”

“HURRAY!”

“Hip hip!”

“HURRAY!”

When the Marines around the table finally settled down, Hudson’s cheeks were bright red.

Placing her empty shot glass upside down on the table in front of her, Carnegie signaled the waiter to bring another round to the large group, as the conversation resumed.

Looking at her wrist chronometer, Eleanor removed her commbadge from her shirt, placing it in the middle of the table. “Alright everyone.” She disregarded the side glances they were getting from the tables around them. “Place your bets! How long do you think it’s going to take him to comm?”

Cpt. Eleanor “Iron Lady” Carnegie, Recon Flight CO (and the Sentinels)


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