Amazon - Part 11a: Boot Camp free porn video

Amazon - Part 11: Boot Camp By Itinerant Edited by Amelia R Biographer's Note: This is Nicole's story. It covers those events and people she finds notable in her life and chooses to share. If you have problems with it, take it up with her. I'm just a glorified stenographer. ********** Wednesday, April 7, 2275 The Settlement Interlude 2: Nicole paused in her narrative, stretched, and checked the time. "Oh my! We've managed to while away the entire afternoon." Sarah's face flushed with her embarrassment. "Forgive me, Nicole! I hadn't meant to take all your day like this." "You didn't know, dear, and I really don't mind," Nicole smiled and patted her companion's hand. "I'd hoped you would ask your question so I could tell you this story; I'm hardly upset that you gave me that chance I had hoped for. "That said, remember that Gwen Tanais, Marguerite Fitzgerald, and I have meetings tomorrow in DC, with Interpol and the FBI, to share findings from the opposition's HQ; Friday, I have more meetings at the UN. If I recall correctly, you have meetings with the auditors for those two days, so you'll have to wait until at least Saturday afternoon for more of my history." Standing, Sarah moved to her friend and queen, wrapped her arms around Nicole, and gave her a strong hug. "I know we both have a lot to do, but I do appreciate your sharing your real past with me." Nicole snickered. "Little sister, we're only four months along. Don't thank me until you've put up with the years between then and now." ***** Pinpoints of light speckled the darkness outside her balcony, as Nicole dialed out on one of her secure lines. "Hello?" "Hello, Wanda, this is Nicole Harrison. Do you have a minute?" "Of course, Nicole. What can I do for you? Since you're using given names I assume that it's unofficial." "Definitely unofficial, Wanda. I wondered if you're still having that sixteenth birthday party Saturday for your granddaughter, Patricia. If so, I'd like to attend with a guest if I may?" "Nicole, you know you're always welcome. You don't even need to ask; we're all rather fond of you, you know, and would be happy if you just show up sometimes." Nicole felt her face warm, and she was grateful she wasn't using a video link. "Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you can possibly know," said the ancient queen. "I'll see you a bit before noon on Saturday, then." "We'll be looking forward to seeing you, then, Nicole. Goodbye." "Goodbye, Wanda." ***** Saturday, April 10, 2275 The Settlement 6:30AM EDT "Your Majesty, will you have some time today to continue your tale?" "Perhaps this afternoon, Sarah, but I'd like you come with me to a Harrison family sixteenth birthday party for lunch, if James is willing to spare you." Her relatively short, brunette friend replied, "I'm always at your disposal, Nicole. James is off at a technical conference this week and next, so I'm happy to join you." Sarah paused. "I hadn't considered it before, but are they related to anyone I know?" A wide grin crossed her friend's face. "Could be!" ***** 11:50AM EDT It was always a bit intimidating, Sarah mused, to watch Nicole's visible transformation from casual friend to monarch, even after having spent the last thirty-five years living in close proximity. ~It's just like the change on Wednesday morning when I asked my question, as if she's taking a mask off and showing her true self.~ Nicole had fully assumed her role by the time she strode through the doorway into Shamiqua Mason Hall, with Sarah following in her wake. Each man and woman within -- a large number of whom shared Nicole's hair color -- bowed briefly, including three older women who were the elders and Matriarchs of the Harrison family. "Your Majesty," said one of the women as she stepped forward, "welcome to our celebration." Nicole clasped hands with her greeter. "Thank you, Wanda. It is always a pleasure to join you at times like this. I think you've met Sarah Tanner? Sarah, Wanda is an elder and Matriarch of the Harrison family." "Yes, I have. Thank you for coming, Sarah, it's very good to have you join us today." "Thank you, Matriarch," Sarah said. "I'm honored to be here." More introductions followed as Sarah found herself greeting, and being greeted by, Greta Harrison and Anne Ogle, the other elders of the family. "Nicole? Would you be willing to make the presentation?" "I'd be happy to, Wanda." "Is something special happening today?" Sarah inquired of her friend. Nicole shook her head. "This is just our normal sixteenth birthday celebration, and the birthday girl will be recognized as a young adult. She did have a well thought out project, so I'm glad to make it special for her." A young girl had just entered the hall, and found herself the center of attention. She was about average in height, a bit taller than Sarah, with a slightly stocky build. Her strawberry blonde locks were cut short, falling just below her ears. She was visibly nervous when she saw the elders; Nicole and Sarah remained just out of the girl's sight as the family elders greeted the youngster. Wanda stepped forward. "Patricia Harrison, child of the Harrison family, we are gathered to celebrate with you your sixteenth birthday. In our nation, for boys and girls who choose to accept the responsibilities, this is the age at which we declare you have crossed the threshold of adulthood, as in the Jewish nation, with the Bat- Mitzvah for girls or Bar-Mitzvah for boys, or in Chinese culture with Ji Li and Guan Li. You have also designed and completed a service project. As a token of your new status, you have chosen a necklace. Today, however, we have a special presenter. Your Majesty?" Nicole, necklace in hand, stepped into the young woman's view; Sarah followed her. Patricia gulped, then curtsied. "Greetings, Y-your Majesty. Thank you for honoring me with your presence." "Patricia, welcome to your new place in the Amazon Nation. You have not been called as a warrior in my service, not yet anyway, but as an adult, you are allowed some freedoms and have accepted responsibilities you haven't had before." With a smooth, practiced motion, she clasped the necklace around Patricia's neck. "Congratulations, Patricia." "Thank you, ma'am. If I may ask a question, though?" Nicole's smiled at the youngster. "Certainly, Patricia, and I'll answer if I can." "Your last name is Harrison, and you have the same hair color as a lot of our family. Are you one of the first queen's descendants too?" Nicole smiled down at the girl, "No, dear, I'm not one of her descendants." Patricia walked with the queen and family elders to a chair for her birthday meal. The next two hours were filled with eating and the occasional question. Nicole, when not answering Patricia's inquiries, wandered from table to table, pausing to chat briefly with one or another of the occupants. Time passed all too quickly for Nicole, and there were other obligations needing attention. She hugged each of the elders of the family in parting, and, after collecting her friend and attendant, reluctantly began her walk back to her quarters. "Thank you for coming, Sarah. I want those closest to me, you and a few others, to know my whole story. The people in that room are my descendants -- my own flesh, and blood, and bone. I wish I could tell them more and let them know that I'm here and still doing all I can to keep watch over them. It wasn't been safe before, though, and now my habit of silence is so strong it's hard to break." "The people in that room remind you of one or another of your own children, don't they." Nicole's laugh was watery. "Oh yes! At times, like today, it gets worse. Patricia reminded me a lot of my youngest, Elizabeth. Not her looks, she reminds me more of Amelia Ten-Broeck with her hair color, so much as her energy, curiosity, and forwardness. Liz would have done precisely the same thing as Patricia in asking that question. "I'm not too surprised that it happens once in a while. I have several thousand direct descendants alive at the moment, so having someone who looks or acts like one of my babies is expected once in a while." Silence reigned as they continued their walk; Sarah allowed her friend to walk long corridors of her memory without interruption. Nicole wondered, as she walked, about the wisdom of attending the celebrations. ~Every time I go to a family celebration, I spend the evening sniffling and missing my own babies.~ She shook off the thought. ~I can't stop going. It's my only way to stay in close contact, even if they don't know me for who I am.~ Nicole nodded to her guards as she stepped into her quarters, and she invited Sarah to join her the next day for a continuation of Nicole's life story. The small brunette frowned in concern at her friend's obvious emotional turmoil. ?Are you sure you're okay, Nicole? James isn't home, so I can stick around for a while.? She carefully laid a hand on her friend's arm. ?I know you're hurting. Isn't there something I can do?? Before Nicole could respond, Artemis, patroness of the Amazons, faded into the room. Sarah, startled, stepped back and bowed slightly and blurted out, ?Lady Artemis!? ?Hello, Sarah, it's good to see you again.? Artemis gave Sarah a one armed hug with a smile then looked sympathetically at Nicole. ?Hello, Nicole. I couldn't help noticing you're feeling a bit down today.? Nicole tried to smile, but managed only a grimace. She closed her eyes, and bit her lower lip in an attempt to control her emotions. Sarah hadn't known what to expect after hearing the story of Artemis' early attitude toward the redhead, but now, seeing her patroness wrap her arms around Nicole, and seeing the goddess receiving, in return, an almost desperate embrace, no doubt remained that a great healing had taken place over the years. ?Oh my dear child,? Artemis murmured, ?I wish I could spare you this.? ?I miss them so much, Mom,? Nicole whimpered. ?I miss my babies, and Sam, and....? She sniffled and laid her head on Artemis' shoulder. ?I wish I could just see them again. I remember every moment of our time together perfectly, and it gets so hard.? Sarah, as quietly as she could, slipped away to her own quarters. Nicole had always been a strong support to those around her; only now Sarah could begin to understand the terrible price her Queen had paid and continued to pay each day. Artemis gently stroked the tall woman's back. ?I know, daughter. Even knowing they're all well and waiting for you doesn't ease your pain in the here and now.? She whispered quietly, ?Thank you, Nicole, for bringing my Amazons back. Nothing I can ever do will every repay that debt.? Nicole straightened, shuddered, and forced a smile onto her face. ?I accepted the task, and the price. I've had my rewards along the way, too. I couldn't have managed nearly so well without you, though.? She kissed the black-haired goddess's cheek. ?Thank you for being there, Mom.? ?You're welcome, dear. Is there anything else I can do while I'm here?? She waited for a moment as Nicole considered. ?Actually there is. I've been working on that ceremony I'd mentioned and....? ***** Sunday, April 11, 2275 The Settlement Nicole's Quarters 10:30AM EDT Nicole put her mug down as she looked at the cool, rainy morning outside. The temperature was in the low fifties, and neither she nor Sarah was interested in sitting and shivering for hours outdoors. "Now, as I recall," Nicole began, "I had just left for Parris Island when we ran out of time. The next three months were really odd for me, as ... in a way, it was like Tom's time in high school. I knew how I could act, and interact, but it meant I had to set aside a lot of the lessons I'd worked so hard at for four months trying to learn how to live as a woman. The ride wasn't very interesting, but once I got there ..." ***** Tuesday, March 27, 2001 (62/40) JFK International Airport 8:30AM EST "Mama, I told you I can't bring anything else with me." Maria Peruzzi glared at her daughter for a moment, then sighed. "I know, Ida; your Papa talked to some of his friends who were in the Marines. I just wanted to give you a little extra for the trip." Ida, a tall, swarthy, black-haired young woman grinned at her mother. "I know, Mama, and I really appreciate the thought. They gave me a list of what I could bring, and that's all I have. Papa, can you explain it to her?" Her father, who was slightly taller than his daughter, just smiled and shook his head as he stepped up to give his eldest child a hug. "I'll try again, but you know your mother." He put his hands on Ida's shoulders and shook her gently. "I'm very proud of you, Ida. You work hard, and don't let anyone step on you. Be proud of yourself and your family, and we'll be there when you graduate." "I'll work hard, Papa. You take care of yourself while I'm gone though, you hear?" she said, returning his hug. She added a peck on his cheek, then, after a last hug and kiss for her mother, Ida stepped away from her parent's car and into the airport terminal. ***** Marine Corps Recruiting Depot - Parris Island 0030 Hours It must have been a change in the drone of tires on pavement, or perhaps a turn she hadn't been awake enough to remember, but Nicole stirred to see lights near a building they were approaching. Yesterday had been busy with all the last minute clean-up she wanted to do before leaving. Nicole had taken time after Angela left for work to spend a few hours with Elizabeth at Michael's cabin. She'd also left the Amazon scepter safely on her dresser in the cabin; there was no way she'd try to take it along to boot camp, and Angela couldn't accidentally stumble across it there -- or, even worse, an intruder looking for the thing. Colonel Stirling had called late Sunday evening with some last minute advice; he said, "Your trip will be timed to arrive sometime at night. Any rest you can get during the day on Monday, or during the ride down, will be to your advantage." His advice had been taken to heart, and she'd advised her traveling companion, Connie Sinclair, to use the idle time to get ahead on the sleep they wouldn't get for the next three months. Connie was still propped up against the window, sleeping with her mouth hanging slightly open. The little brunette had been visibly nervous from the first, though Nicole had perceived a strong sense of relief when Connie had spotted the tall redhead. Nicole grinned at the memory and stretched a little to waken her sleep and travel-numbed body before checking on her seat-mate. "Connie? Time to wake up; we're just about there." Nicole punctuated her words with a gentle elbow. Connie stirred from the first dreamless sleep she'd had in weeks to find her 'target' pointing out the window. Given the wild weekend of packing and moving out of her apartment -- Rod Graham had offered long term storage for her meager belongings, bless him -- she'd expected to be too wound up to be able to sleep. A combination of droning tires and an inexplicably comforting feeling from sitting next to Ms. Harrison had allowed her to relax and catch up on rest she'd missed. It was going to be hard to keep to her task of monitoring Nicole, but it was important -- to Connie and to Rod -- that she not fail in her duty to keep her watch and her distance. Brakes squealed and hissed as the bus shuddered to a halt. ***** Nothing, but *nothing*, could have prepared Nicole for the concentrated, willfully created chaos of the next five hours. A Marine Sergeant, his bellowing voice reverberating as he rampaged up and down the bus's aisle, harried the half-awake recruits as they scrambled and stumbled off the bus to take their place in the yellow footprints on the pavement outside. That had been only a gust before the storm that followed. A brief interlude of semi-quiet was permitted to call home. Connie was directed to another line as the redhead took a place in one of the queues. The intent was to notify family of their safe arrival, but Nicole dithered as she waited in line. She'd discussed the question of 'Who should I call?' with her friends before leaving. She had no family -- not by the definition most people used, anyway -- but they'd concluded that Amelia, who had accepted power of attorney and responsibility for Nicole's finances, could let her sisters know she was here and okay. She wanted to say so much more than the script allowed, but she spoke her lines and stepped back into the maelstrom of confused youngsters. Connie, who had made her call to Rod Graham, moved to rejoin the only familiar face in the room as they moved to the next station. The redhead was waved through the haircut station as Nicole's hairstyle was reluctantly pronounced to meet requirements. Connie was subjected to a rapid shearing to bring her overly long locks into spec, but the rapid-fire activities kept the young woman distracted by new demands on her overloaded mind. Familiar, comfortable clothing was soon replaced by a woodland camouflage uniform -- they called them BDUs -- as any last relics of civilian life were stripped way and replaced by Marine issue gear. Even her underwear was replaced and packed away until the end of training. All her new gear was stowed in what the quartermaster called an ALICE pack -- it looked like a backpack on steroids -- and a seabag. On the other hand, she found an old comfort zone in the clothing. Having only shirts, trousers, and boots was almost like a return to being Tom; makeup was a thing of the past, now. ~I'm not sure this is all to the good,~ Nicole thought. ~I've only had four months of the new me, and now I'm too close to being back to the old me for comfort.~ The remainder of the day, and the next two that followed, were consumed by paperwork, and standing in line, and classes, and more paperwork, and standing in line, and medical examinations, and still more paperwork, and on and on .... The forming platoon sergeants had the queen wishing fervently for earplugs or less sensitive hearing as they taught the flock of female recruits the basics of marching, wearing the military gear, and the fundamentals of boot camp language. Showers in a group and scrubbing 'by the numbers' were going to take MUCH longer to get used to. The situation brought to mind Tom's years in high school, when the boys would dive into communal showers after gym or sport. It had been decades since Tom had shared a shower with anyone else ... except for a few delightfully memorable times with Beth. It was just a bit noisier now with the addition of screaming sergeants. ~The shower acoustics let the DIs get the most out of their lung power,~ Nicole thought as she scrubbed up. ***** Wednesday, March 28, 2001 Tanner Home 5:45PM PST Kate had been relatively quiet ever since returning from Virginia; Marie had bitten her tongue to give her visibly distressed daughter time to settle down, but the youngster had been cloistered in her room since arriving home today -- the situation seemed to be getting worse, not better. The elder Tanner woman had walked upstairs and stood quietly watching her child as she sat on her bed staring off into space and clutched a stuffed toy. The orange, black, and white stuffed animal that had given her nickname, 'Tigger', to her had been acquired during a trip to Anaheim. It had been Kate's favorite animal until she'd reached an age when such things weren't 'cool'. The toy had been retrieved from her closet shelf and was being hugged as if it were a life preserver. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" Marie inquired. Kate didn't turn her head as she responded. "I'm scared, Mom. I feel like I'm way over my head." Marie slipped in and sat beside the young Amazon. "Is this Amazon trouble?" The youngster half shrugged and half nodded. "Sort of. While I was in Virginia, we had meetings with everyone there -- Nicole, the woman from England who just accepted the call, and the two who live in Virginia that I'd met before, Trish and Amelia. Nicole's off to boot camp, and she wanted to make sure the Amazons could keep working on getting set up, so we were all given jobs." A familiar, motherly hand stroked her daughter's back. "So what job do you have that upsets you so much?" "Momma," Kate wailed, "she made me her chief of staff! I'm supposed to keep things running while she's busy!" Kate hugged the tiger more tightly; its seams strained, but held. Marie frowned. "Nicole just left you alone with the job?" "Well ... not exactly. The woman from England, Judith, is married. She and her husband own a company in Great Britain, and they're supposed to help." "Now *that* I can believe. There are only five of you so far, and you have experienced help if you need it." "But ..." "You said you wanted to go into management." "But ..." "This way you can learn the job slowly. It's perfect." "But *Mom!*" Marie fought down the smile that was trying to reach her face. Her daughter was outgoing, but had a tendency to underestimate her own abilities. "Kate, you have a task. You have help if you need it. Do you really believe that Nicole would drop this job on you if she had any concerns that you couldn't do it?" The young woman blushed and shook her head. "No. I told you that Amazons have a bond with each other?" Her mother nodded. "I could feel Nicole's confidence in me even when I was feeling almost panicked. Even before she said anything, I knew she believed in me. I'm just afraid I'll screw up and someone will suffer, or worse, that Nicole will get hurt." "That's what this is really all about, isn't it?" Marie said. "You're worried that you'll disappoint Nicole. You care for her very much." Kate nodded. "Mom, when I was growing up, sometimes I wished I had a sister. Now I have one." Her mother smiled. "Honey, I doubt Nicole expects you to be perfect. "You'll make mistakes; anyone would. What you need to remember is to start slow and ask questions." Kate snorted in amusement. "Where have I heard that one before?" "Perhaps the last dozen times you found yourself in a position of responsibility." Marie stood and gently drew her daughter to her feet. "You'll do fine, dear. Now it's time to get supper ready. Put your critter down and let's get busy." Kate braced the toy against her pillow and then gently hugged her mother. "Thanks, Mom." ***** Friday, March 30, 2001 (Fog/Rain; 72/57) Parris Island, SC 0800 Hours Nicole decided that her first really enjoyable station was the IST, or Initial Strength Test. She had to restrain the temptation to perform a complete pull-up, but she held the flexed arm hang for a full thirty seconds, rather than the minimum twelve. The crunches -- a variety of bent knee sit up -- were no more problem than the arm hang as Nicole easily completed one hundred in the allocated two minutes. She had no question about her ability to meet any strength standard required of any other Marine, male or female. She rolled gracefully to her feet and took a place to one side as Connie began her test. The corporal called time, and Connie, gasping, collapsed as she completed her fiftieth crunch. The arm hang hadn't been hard, but the sit ups took more time to build up to than she'd been allowed in preparation. She couldn't help a smile as Nicole reached out with a hand to help the brunette up. The redhead's shoulder pat of congratulations made Connie's smile turn to a grin of self-satisfaction, and both turned their attention to encouraging their fellow recruits in their tests. ***** 1800 Hours Lieutenant Colonel Karla Brown, commander of the Fourth Recruit Training Battalion, took her seat at the head of the conference table. The latest batch of recruits had been processed, and it was time to review and evaluate how to distribute this group. "Okay, Top, what's the news for Captain Parker?" Sergeant Major Laura Jessup, a short, dark-haired woman, pulled a summary sheet from her stack and scanned it quickly. "We have a big class this time, a full one hundred twenty recruits, and they seem pretty typical. Their ASVAB scores and physical conditioning seem average -- except for two that are way out there on the Bell curve." Captain Amanda Parker nodded. Fully six feet tall, she had a build that made her look to be of average size -- until someone stood beside her. She'd seen enough of the files to have formed her own opinions. Her NCOs were capable, though, and she'd give them their head for now. First Sergeant Samantha Richards, the Senior Drill Instructor for First Platoon and second only to the Sergeant Major, shot a look toward Jessup. "What do you mean? Are either of them going to be a problem?" She was in her late thirties, but her face was tanned and weathered by days out on the training grounds. Her build wasn't heavy, but her shoulders were broad and solid. A short silence followed her question. Laura finally continued, "Hmmm. When I first read their files, I didn't think the one would last long enough to do any good or any harm; Harrison's ASVAB scores are off the chart, other than a weakness in automotive subjects; she's the oldest of the group at almost twenty-five, has a Masters degree, and her physical description seemed on the skinny side. She blew away the IST though. She could be a hell of an asset or a pain in the ass, depending on her attitude. "The other one, Sinclair, is a little younger, but she's still a college grad. She doesn't rate as high as Harrison, but she's still a cut above our normal recruit." Kim Ellison, Sgt. Richards's Assistant DI, looked over the data package. "I don't know that Harrison will be a problem, Sir. Sergeant Kolaric and I were watching the new group the last four days, and the impression I got was that Harrison looks like one of the more natural officer candidates I've seen. Even the answer she gave for not going for OCS immediately made good sense; she sounds like she's planning to go for it as a mustang." There was a long tradition in the Corps of encouraging mustangs -- officers who began their career in the enlisted ranks -- as they had practical experience in keeping themselves, and their troops, alive. "If Harrison's smart enough to know she doesn't have all the answers, she might work out," responded Staff Sergeant Winifred Jackson, "but those pampered college kids tend to be know-it-alls. It takes a while for them to clue into the real world." "I'll keep a special eye on her," said Sam Richards. "We'll make sure she's tested, and if she comes up short," she shrugged. "Now, how do we divvy up the rest of the bodies?" By midnight, the weary command group had sorted through each file and assigned the recruits to their platoons. Sam Richards got both Harrison and Sinclair in the hope that one or the other wouldn't wash out and would turn into a worthwhile Marine. Each sergeant was carting along a tall stack of personnel files for each of the recruits under their command. Their spare time, such as they had, would be spent memorizing every available scrap of data to ensure they had an idea of where any weak points might be. Each recruit had a common set of skills to master, but even more important was learning how to master themselves and overcome any weakness that would endanger their fellow Marines. Tomorrow morning they'd form November Company, and the hard work of turning this latest batch of raw recruits into Marines would begin. ***** Saturday, March 31, 2001 Parris Island, SC 0800 Hours The forming Drill Instructor strode into the squad bay and called the sixty women to sit on the deck around her. Nicole found a spot on the periphery and settled in. The DI's parting remarks were short, and to the point. "This morning you'll all be picking up your platoon, and you'll begin one of the hardest times you'll ever face, but probably not the hardest. The Marine Corp is rewarding and challenging, and Boot Camp will begin preparing you for the challenges. This is training for the Corps, but isn't like the Corps. Don't quit; don't get discouraged. It's hard, but it will get better." Nicole's thoughts drifted for a moment. ~"Not the hardest" has to be one of the biggest understatements of the year for my life.~ "You're all a bunch of lousy recruits. At the end of the next thirteen weeks, when you finally graduate, you'll be Marines. If you see me that day, remember this -- I'll want to shake your damned hand. "Until then, you gotta work *hard*, move fast, yell loud, and give everything you have." The Amazon felt the surging emotions of the kids around her. They were responding to the pep talk like a football team, and fierce grins were appearing on the young faces. The DI told everyone to grab their gear. There was a swift scramble to gather up the already packed ALICE packs and seabags, and the slightly ragged lines of women marched out. ***** Four columns of recruits sat on the deck -- Marine-speak for floor -- facing the front of the squad bay. Shortly after the last of the sixty recruits found their place, Captain Parker strode in. The Captain gave a less friendly version of the forming sergeant's talk, then called out -- loudly, of course -- "Drill Instructors, your platoon is ready!" Four ramrod-spined women marched out of the room to the front of the squad bay, taking their places to either side of the captain. The redhead recalled a comment from David Stirling that the DI who wore the patent leather belt was the Senior DI, and the only one who would be at all sympathetic to any concerns or complaints. Nicole returned her attention to the front of the room as the DIs finished their oath. "... I will demand of them, and demonstrate by my own example, the highest standards of personal conduct, morality, and professional skill." ~Interesting. Most of them are actually taking their oath seriously, but someone up there is going to be a pain in the keester,~ Nicole decided. Salutes were exchanged, and then the four DIs turned to look at the lines of recruits the same way hungry hyenas look at a trapped herd of gazelle. Chaos followed. The four sergeants -- Nicole was sure there were only four at the start -- seemed to multiply themselves as they roared a series of commands that were almost, but not quite, mutually exclusive. The volume and rapid-fire pace of the shouted orders left almost all the recruits spinning in confusion. The shouting wasn't the end of the barrage; the sergeants scattered the contents of the packs and seabags -- ALL the packs and seabags -- across the length and width of the squad bay. The redhead's ears still rang, but the DIs had finally disappeared into the DI House. The only sounds now were the soft, quivering breaths of still shocked recruits who waited in fear for the next onslaught. One youngster was shaking as she silently wept. A voice roared, "Who fucked up my squad bay!?" from a suddenly open door to the room where the monsters had vanished. ~Good enough.~, Nicole thought, as she looked around at the room. She was the first, but one or two others were beginning to stir. Connie was visibly shaken, but was beginning to look around as well. "Connie," the Amazon said, "see if you can get a group working at sorting out the gear. Don't pack it, just put it onto each person's rack. I'll grab a few girls and brooms and get the deck swept up." ***** Ida was stunned, at first. The worst day she'd ever experienced in school hadn't been nearly as bad as this. Even the preparation she'd had from Papa's friends was nothing like it. ~Are they gone?~ she wondered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall, skinny redhead look quickly around. Ida's temper exploded, as she heard the rich witch start giving orders. "Who the hell put you in charge?" the swarthy, black haired woman snarled. She was nearly as tall as Nicole, but much more heavily built. "You think we'll mind you just because you're some kind of fashion model?" ***** Raising an eyebrow, the redhead turned slightly to look at the speaker. "I'm stepping up because everyone else was too scared to move." She tilted her head slightly. ~Great! I don't really need a cat fight at the moment.~ "Fuck off, Twiggy! I'm not taking orders from a rich witch," the swarthy woman growled, as she reached out with both hands and shoved Nicole toward the wall. "Straighten her out, Ida!" came from where the heavily built woman had been. ~Damn it! I thought testosterone poisoning was a guy thing,~ the redhead fumed. She stepped back from the shove and grabbed the other woman's wrist in a move she'd learned from David Stirling. ***** Win Jackson was watching the developing conflict with a thin smile. ~College Girl is getting an education sooner than I expected.~ Her smile turned into a gape as 'College Girl' reacted to the assault. ***** The wall didn't shake, but only because the Amazon deliberately slowed Ida before she hit. The dark haired aggressor's arm was carefully, but relentlessly, folded behind her back and held in an unbreakable grip. "If you want to lead, then prove you're a leader by acting like one. Trying to out-muscle everyone is only going to get you hurt. Now, are you going to behave?" Ida struggled to shift her arm or move away from the wall, but for all her struggles, she could only turn her head. "Let me go!" As she twisted her neck around to look at her captor, she was caught by Nicole's implacable gray eyes. "Not until you promise to behave. We don't have time for this, and I don't have any interest in playing stupid dominance games. We have to work together as a team to make it through this training." A quiet noise drew Nicole's attention to the rest of the room, but silence fell again as the redhead's eyes swept the other recruits. Only Connie seemed to relax rather than tense under the gray-eyed gaze. It was like being caught between the wall and a truck. Ida couldn't understand how anyone as skinny as the redhead could be so strong, but she wasn't even making the fashion model work. "All right! Okay! I'll behave!" An instant later, she was free. Ida turned deliberately to face her opponent. She was baffled by the calm, almost good-humored look. "Now then," Nicole said, "let's work as a team to get this place cleaned up before the DIs decide to yell some more. You pick a side, and I'll handle the side you don't take. We'll see how quickly we can get this place squared away." ~I suppose I should be grateful for my experience as a male right now,~ thought the redhead, ~women in the Marines are going to be more aggressive than the average female. It still seems stupid, though.~ ***** ~Shit!~ Sergeant Jackson closed the door and turned back toward her fellow instructors. "I'm not sure I believe what I just saw. Harrison started organizing a cleanup of the squad bay. Peruzzi decided to argue who was in charge, and she shoved Harrison -- or tried to. Peruzzi wound up pinned up against a wall, and Harrison looked like it was no effort at all." Samantha Richards raised an eyebrow at the comment. "Didn't you pay attention to Harrison's IST result? She's slender, but hellaciously strong." Kim Ellison glanced over at Samantha. "Are you still planning on having Harrison as Guide, Sam?" Nodding, Richards replied, "Even more so, now. She's just demonstrated more ability to handle a challenge to her authority than I'd even hoped for. If Harrison can handle getting smoked for her platoon's screw-ups, she should do fine. I think, though, I want Peruzzi at first squad leader, and Sinclair in the second. I want to reward smart, aggressive behavior. Peruzzi needs to learn the smart half. Sinclair is too passive at the moment, and it usually takes more work to teach a woman to be aggressive. She has all the smarts you could want, but she needs to get that combat edge." ***** Sunday, April 1, 2001 Amelia and Trish's apartment 12:15PM EDT Trish woke slowly and reluctantly. She was still weary from the previous night's performance, but her cooling bed had wakened her. Darkness still wrapped the room despite the hour, as she slowly sat up, stretched, and padded quietly out to join her partner, wrapping herself in her robe on the way. "Morning, Trish." Amelia had turned to look toward her slow moving roommate, who wandered over for a liberal application of affection. "There's plenty of hot water ready for your tea." "Morning yourself, Mela," Trish responded, "didn't you sleep well?" Silence filled the room while she allowed her tea to steep, then returned to settle into a chair. "I woke up early, and my brain started chewing on our relationship, wanting to have a child, Nicole and the Amazons," the blonde wave a hand, "all the things that have happened in the last few months. I was fretting a bit about Artemis, and a lot about her boss." "I get that. I'm still trying to get my head around the idea that angels and Greek goddesses are real." Amelia hesitated before responding. "That isn't the part that I'm fretting about, love. All the implications that follow are what are causing me to worry. I believed in a higher power -- God -- before, but without proof it was more an intellectual exercise. Now I'm inundated with evidence that it's real, and I can't help but wonder if there are things I should do differently." "I understand, I guess. But don't forget that Artemis seems to be pretty happy with us as we are, and Nicole does, too. I don't think either one would do that if their boss wasn't willing to put up with how we live our lives. Are you thinking about finding a church, or something?" "I'm not sure," said the blonde. "I've looked around before, and the schedules are too early for our weekends. It's bad enough Monday mornings when we've slept in on Sunday." Trish nodded. "I agree, but if you want to try to find a place...." "We'll see what we can find; I guess I want to think and talk about it. The tasks Nicole left for us are more urgent, I think; I'm not sure how to tackle them, though. For example, the vending guy should really be worked through the company, but I don't think we can without blowing our cover. The Sinclair woman is an even worse problem. At least with the firewall problem I can keep working using company time and resources." Trish wrapped her arms around Amelia's shoulders and hugged her gently. "You know, I think I may have an idea how to tackle those other tasks. There's a company that handles concert security around here, and they also do investigations as a sideline. The owner gave me a card when she came to a coffeehouse." "Who are they?" "The company is called BAST, Bast Advance Security Teams, and the owners are Genevieve Bast and her husband, Dexter. They were cops in Los Angeles and Hollywood for about twenty years before they went to work in the concert security business, then they started working for themselves. They moved here since there was too much competition out west. Their contacts let them skim off the top acts from the beginning, and they've been growing slowly ever since." Amelia's jaw dropped, then she began to giggle, which earned her a confused look. "What?" "You've never heard the name Bast before, other than this security firm?" "No. Should I have?" "'Bast' was the name of an Egyptian cat goddess who the Greeks said was a Goddess of the Moon. The Greek's own Moon Goddess was -- drum roll, please -- Artemis!" Trish rolled her eyes. "You and your anthropology classes are at it again!" She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you think ...?" "It may just be pure coincidence, but it's still pretty funny. I'd probably start with Ms Bast just because of the name factor." "I'll give her office a call tomorrow. We'll need to get an idea of the costs, too, so we can figure out how much help we'll need from Judith," Trish said. She paused, and giggled herself. "You're right though. The name *is* pretty funny." ***** Monday, April 2, 2001 Amelia and Trish's Apartment "Hello, this is Genevieve Bast speaking." "Hello, Ms Bast. My name is Trish Peyton. You gave me your card at a coffeehouse some weeks ago, and I was wondering if you'd have time to meet with me. My partner has a possible problem at work, but we want to keep any investigation quiet for fear of a leak. Are you available for a meeting with us so we can outline the situation?" Genevieve sat quietly in her chair for a moment. She recalled the young musician; her sharp memory for names and faces was an important tool in her business. Her schedule, for the next few weeks anyway, was fairly clear. "Yes, Trish, I remember your performance, and I still enjoy listening to your CD when I have time. If you have one, and want to avoid attention, we could meet at your performance this week." A few minutes later, the two hung up after ensuring the address of Trish's next set of performances was correctly copied. ***** Parris Island ~I'm going to go mad from boredom,~ she decided. Nicole was loping along at a pace set by Drill Instructor Sergeant Jackson -- it was safest to think of them that way. The first, and last, recruit to forget had provided a very memorable demonstration of the consequences of failure -- which was intended to be just within the abilities of most of the recruits. Most. Each squad had one or two who were gasping already from exhaustion, but Jackson jogged on, unmoved by their troubles. Every recruit would rise to the challenge -- or they would be bounced from training. Nicole felt sorry for the laggards. They'd be getting extra time to work on their conditioning later in the day, but there was nothing she could do to help. Jackson's voice rang out, and the platoon began yelling out another "Jodie" as they pounded down the street. ***** Connie swiped a rivulet of sweat from her forehead just before it slithered its way through her eyebrow and into her eye. Washington was humid, that was a given, but she hadn't tried to run outside in the early morning fog. Her purely physical efforts allowed time to wonder if she'd completely lost her mind when she agreed to enlist. ~I don't like fighting. I really don't think Nicole is worth following. I hate this stupid, mindless regimentation.~ She wouldn't quit, though. Stubborn was too mild a term for her, and she'd be damned if she'd let a bunch of camo-clad sadists win. Her musings were set aside as she began to yell out the "Jodie" along with the other recruits. ***** Tuesday, April 3, 2001 Hunter Security 8:00 AM EDT Rod nodded to Frank Thompson as he took his seat at the conference table. Connie had been assigned to the same platoon as their target; she'd be able to monitor Nicole Harrison's activities for the duration of boot camp. Now, while that was underway, Rod and his subordinates would pursue breaking into Wing's offices and Connie's idea regarding the scepter's recipient. Rod began, "We have enough people to work both tasks as long as we work efficiently. Frank, I want you to head the Wing investigation. We need to find out who provides their security system, how it's set up, and where we can find a weak point. Double check the staff's routine; if we can move when no one's inside, life will be much simpler. I want you to start from scratch; assume all our existing data is bogus. When you have the security system and staff schedule, we'll start choosing out insertion team." "Rod," Frank said, "we've been thinking about this for a while, and we'd like to try something. If the vending group can place some equipment into their machine, we can sense the power use changes in the building. That'll let us correlate people with power and get a better idea of how many people are actually in their offices." Rod nodded. "Do it. We'll trigger a vending machine failure tomorrow, and get the equipment in place. "Todd," Rod looked at a short, black-haired man, "you're heading the re- check of the airport data. Find out if there are any females of any age -- even infants -- at that airport during the time frame. Double check to see if Harrison was there, but I really don't expect it." He scanned the group one last time. "I want presentations from each of you, two slides maximum, before the nine o'clock conference call with the chairman." ***** Hunter Security 10:00 AM EDT ~I'm not sure anything can be worth this job's stress level.~ Rod pinched the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to ease his headache. The chairman had nodded in approval of the series of steps that should, once and for all, confirm or disprove a link between the Artemis-infested company, Wing Ground Sensor Systems, and the yet-to-be- located Amazon queen. Rod had no complaints about that part, at least. The first depressing comment from the other end of the connection came immediately after his final slide. "Very good, Mister Graham. You seem to have a reasonable and comprehensive series of steps." Rod relaxed minutely. "I think your efficiency has made the success or failure of Miss Sinclair's efforts almost irrelevant." Rod managed to suppress most of his cringe. He didn't want to believe that the company would jettison an employee so casually -- especially one who'd done as much as Connie before her punishment was imposed. He caught twitches in some of his coworker's shoulders as they, too, struggled with the pronouncement. His concern turned to a simmering anger at the next statement. "Your office is understaffed at the moment. Mister Diego Derbez, from the Los Angeles, California, office, is being transferred to Washington to remedy that situation." "And what about ... Miss Sinclair's position?" Rod's arms crawled with goosebumps at the slow, considered stare from the chairman. "If she succeeds, I will keep my promise even though I hold little hope. Our operations in your region will be more important in the months to come, and we cannot afford to have problems caused by understaffing. "You have your orders, Mister Graham. I expect you to carry them out." A gesture of the chairman's hand followed, and only a test pattern remained from his video feed. ***** WGSS Offices 1:30PM EDT Amelia knocked hesitantly on the office doorframe. It wasn't her first trip to this office, and she'd met the person inside. Nicole had already as much as said that Amelia's relationship with Trish was accepted, but now she was going to ask for personal, visible support. It was unnerving. "Dr. Wing? Do you have a few minutes?" "Of course, Amelia." Michael smiled and waved Amelia into his office. "Please, close the door so we can have some privacy." He waited quietly as the blonde closed the door and took seat. Amelia was visibly nervous, and her palms were wet with sweat. "Now, what can I do for you?" She took a deep breath and gazed uncertainly at the person she'd first known as Doctor Wing. She hadn't had much one-on-one interaction with him, even before 'Hurricane Nicole' had blown in and upended her life. Nicole's revelation, just after the 'tickle' occurred, of her bosses' real identities made a simple question like this terribly nerve wracking. "Nicole said you are much more than the historian and archaeologist I'd first met -- that you're the Archangel Michael. That's an idea that I'm having a hard time dealing with." He leaned forward, propping himself on the desk with his elbows; his blue eyes glittered with good humor, though he repressed the smile that tried to reach his face. "I think that's an understandable reaction. Are you more worried about her being wrong, or being right?" "If she's wrong, at worst I'm embarrassed. If she's right ...." She gave a quick shrug. "Either way, you're important to the Amazons as far as Nicole is concerned, and after what happened with Artemis, the evidence is pretty strong that she's right." He leaned back again with a gentle smile. "You aren't wrong, child, on either point. There's really no reason to be afraid, though. I'm no different from the person you've always known, no matter which role I'm in. I'm a bit constrained in what I'm permitted to do, but I'm here to help you as I may. You have a question?" She fiddled with an earring for a moment before beginning. "You know that Trish is my partner, I assume. I can't imagine my life without her in it, and though I know there's no way to have a legally recognized marriage, we want something more than just living together. We want to have a ceremony to make a formal commitment to each other." He cocked his head in question. "So, why are you so worried about coming to me?" "You've been someone I have thought of as a friend, and I'd have invited you without question. But ... I really don't want to offend now that I know what and who you are. Even if Trish and I have been chosen and accepted as Amazons, that doesn't necessarily mean that you ... approve or accept our relationship. Still, Trish and I want to have you present for the ceremony." She paused for a moment. "To be completely truthful, we'd like to be able to have a legal wedding with you there. Could we talk you into waving your hand and fixing that?" Her face reflected her own skepticism. He shook his head. "Could everyone be reprogrammed? Yes, it could be done. God doesn't care to turn the human race into puppets, though. One thing that makes each one of you so very precious is your ability to freely choose right and wrong -- and accept the consequences of those choices. You don't really want that taken away, do you?" "No," she looked down in frustration, then back up at him, "not most of the time anyway." "I'll admit," he continued, smiling gently, "that there is a point or two I'm interested in regarding your relationship and how you're approaching this ceremony. You and Trish hope to have children? You more than Trish, I suspect." He grinned as the young woman blushed, but nodded. "Guilty as charged," she responded. "I know that an unconventional family may make his or her life harder, but," she looked at Michael with an iron determination in her eyes, "our children will be wanted, cared for, and loved with all our hearts." He nodded in approval; they were thinking through the consequences to those around them. "Of that, Amelia, I have no doubt at all. The other point I want to raise is whether you and Trish are preparing for a long life together. Have you had any premarital counseling?" She shook her head. "We haven't so far. It's hard to find counselors willing to help lesbian couples." "That's important, and something I'd demand of any couple -- conventional or not; you can ask for help in finding someone, if you need it. Take care of that, and I'd be happy to be there. You'll have my blessing ... and His." Her eyes widened and shimmered with tears of joy. She managed to choke out a "Thank you!" as she left. Michael leaned back in his chair, seemingly listening to someone before saying, smiling, "Yes, I agree. They are wonderful children, aren't they?" ***** Parris Island, SC 1430 EDT "One, two, three, forty-nine!" "One, two, three, fifty!" Nicole, Ida, and Ida's squad held their 'forward leaning rest' position. Ida's squad had managed to incur the wrath of the sergeants by not being perfect in making up their rack, or not having sufficiently shined their boots, or any of the myriad offenses that resulted in 'quarterdecking'. Ida, as squad leader, enjoyed extra outdoor exercise when any of her squad goofed.. Nicole was in her fourth session that day, and wondered how anyone else managed. ~At least they're changing the exercises at times, but *sheesh!*~ ***** 6:00PM EDT Amelia and Trish's apartment Supper was just about ready, and Trish was using the idle time before her love returned home to get in some practice. Her immersion in her music wasn't enough to keep Trish from picking up her partner's arrival outside their door. "So what happened today that has you all wound up?" Trish asked, as the two disengaged from their warm embrace. Amelia smiled. "I spoke with Doctor Wing today and asked him if he'd attend our commitment ceremony, whenever it happens." Trish's face darkened at yet another reminder of the couple's second class status. Her voice carried only a fraction of the anger that Amelia sensed in her partner's emotions. "And?? Is he already booked for whatever date we pick?" Amelia caught and held her love's eyes; her voice gently chided her partner. "That's not fair, sweetheart, and you know it. I was Called, and you were officially approved when Nicole invited you. In fact, Michael said that he wants us to go through premarital counseling before any ceremony. If we get the counseling, he said he'd be happy to be there, and that we'd have his blessing ... and his boss's blessing, too." A brief flare of joy was swamped by renewed frustration and sorrow from the younger woman. "It's not fair! It isn't *right!*" Trish's eyes glittered with unshed tears. "I'm happy and grateful that Michael's willing to give us his approval, but still," she caressed her love's cheek, "it hurts to have to settle for less than a real marriage -- like we're not really people." She sniffed, wiped her eyes, and gave a wan smile. "I daydream about it, sometimes." "Love, if it's that important to you, we could try moving to Vermont; they have civil unions, so we could get all the legal issues solved. It's not too far from my folks, and I'm sure they wouldn't complain about having us closer. I might even be able to work out something with the company on a part-time basis." Trish shook her head. "I love your parents, but I think we need to be here for now. There's a reason for Doctor Wing being here. Maybe one day, if there's no alternative." "One day, Trish, maybe we'll have a chance at a real wedding. For now, we have to find ourselves a good counselor." "I'll ask some of my friends if they know anyone; there are some couples who I'm sure know someone." She paused for a moment, and Amelia could see the wheels turning. "Mela? Did you talk to Artemis at work?" "No, she wasn't in today. Why?" "Do you think she'd help us put together an Amazon wedding? Maybe we can use that rather than what we'd originally talked about. It won't be legal as far as the state is concerned either way, but since we're planning on writing up our own ceremony, and we're both Amazons, it seems appropriate." Amelia was taken aback, but only momentarily. "That's a great idea! We'll have to be careful about setting it up, and you know that means we'll have to wait until Nicole can come, too." Trish grinned. "That just means I can take my time to pick Artemis' brain for ceremonies and music. I need to spend time working with her anyway; this lets me make progress on both at once." ***** Friday, April 6, 2001 Alexandria, VA ~It isn't the Birchmere, but it's a pleasant little place to play,~ Trish decided as she hauled her gear into her latest venue. She smirked a bit as she parked her end of the trunk on the floor next to the table. Hauling her boxes of CDs and other merchandise had been a hassle. Mela had organized everything after the first time she'd tried to replenish a CD from the boxes of stock. It hadn't gone well. The two were now able to load and unload in half the time, and still find everything. Best of all, now it was like loading and unloading a truckload of feather pillows. She had to be careful, but set-up went quickly, now, and she wasn't winded at all. The young musician's first set went wonderfully. She'd only begun to explore what her new physical abilities allowed, but her mind was echoing with new tunes, new runs -- so many new possibilities. Not all of them were predicated on her physical boost; many of the ideas were things she could have done before. It was more a matter of confidence - - confidence in the love she shared with Amelia in a way she'd never imagined was possible, and confidence in herself that was founded on that love. She sipped on her water, and wandered through her private, inner universe of sound. "Ms Peyton?" Trish started at Genevieve's voice. She looked up to see an Asiatic woman, with black hair and broad, strong shoulders. Her face wasn't beautiful, but it was pretty, and reflected the strength of the woman. "Oh! Ms Bast, it's a pleasure to see you again. I think you remember my partner, Amelia?" "Yes, I do, and please just call me Genny. Ms Bast is too stiff and formal. Is there a place we can speak privately?" Moments later the three women were cloistered in Trish's dressing room, and Genny was receiving her briefing about the situation about the mysterious firewall pounding, the odd behavior of the vending machine serviceman, and the suspicious behavior of Connie Sinclair. "Do you think the issues are related?" Genny asked. "We think so," Amelia responded. "The worst of it started when our friend, Nicole, was hired in. We're not certain, though, that it isn't coincidental." Genny nodded to herself. "Okay, I can do at least an initial check to see if there's a common source between Sinclair and the serviceman. I'm not a computer expert, though, and I can't really do much there. I'll e-mail you an estimate of what I think it will cost for the first step, and I'll let you decide whether you want to proceed." She broke off for a moment to sneeze. "Is there anything else I can do for you at the moment?" Trish shook her head. "Not now. We really appreciate your coming Genny." ***** Saturday, April 7, 2001 Letters Home - Week 1 Parris Island, SC 07 April 2007 Dear Michael, Yes, I'm deliberately using military style dating. I suspect it will be easier if I get acclimated to my new environment, including the weather. The inevitable morning fog isn't much fun, as we're almost dripping as soon as we step outside. The temperatures aren't too bad; I'm getting to like the warm. :-) Rather than try to squeeze in a raft of short notes during the week, I thought I'd take a little more time today for a longer letter. Feel free to share this with anyone who's interested at work. For the most part, this week has been filled with an introduction to the Marine Corps -- including the 'rules of the road' -- some of the basics of hand-to-hand combat, and some information on various weapons. It's a 24/7 immersion in a warrior culture, and very effective indoctrination. I expected it, but there are still parts of it all that I have a hard time accepting. Hard time or not, it's all part of the job I accepted. Despite the difficulties it's been interesting, as I've pretty much ignored most of the topics they cover. The down side is that, since I'm what they call the Guide -- the senior recruit in the platoon -- I have to make sure everyone else in the unit gets it all memorized. If they mess up, then not only do they get what's lovingly called IPT -- Incentive Physical Training -- but I do, too. It isn't hard, not compared to what the Colonel put me through; it drives the DIs crazy. *Snicker!* The poor kids are pushed to the limit, though. We've split up those needing the most help into small groups, with those of us with a handle on the material drilling the slower ones. Monday was mostly physical exercises, and classes in the UCMJ -- the Universal Code of Military Justice -- including the infamous 'don't ask, don't tell'. It wasn't overly interesting or challenging, just rote memorization. There's no excuse though for anyone not to know the limits. Tuesday, we got into the duties of the Interior Guard, and the DIs set up what they called a fire watch. That means we rotate through staying up during the night. Oh joy, oh bliss. The other part of Tuesday was the start of martial arts, which wouldn't be so bad if not for the requirement to use 'KILL' to accompany every movement. *sigh* David's preparation has helped a lot in knowing the terminology, and I really think some of the women at WGSS would also do well to have some training to ensure they can escape from attackers. We had a day of learning about ranks, saluting, customs and courtesies on Wednesday -- and drill -- and exercises. Thursday was learning all the uses of a bayonet; it was a day when having a vivid imagination wasn't a good thing. I did like the classes on Marine history on Friday. They focused on individuals who'd been awarded the Medal of Honor or Navy Cross; I admit I'd never realized just how many there were. I know they're indoctrinating us, but when you listen to what some of those people did it's impressive; they gave everything for their mission and their comrades. We also started working with our rifle -- NOT gun! Today was learning the care and feeding of our M16 -- disassembly, cleaning, reassembly, more cleaning, ... -- and more classes, this time on Core Values. The intent is great, and I don't think anyone can argue that honor, courage, and commitment are bad things. I'm just waiting to see how they live it out. One of my biggest problems, so far, is getting enough to eat. None of the exercise is hard, but I'm so physically active that I wake up ravenous. I have to be careful, or I'll wash out for being underweight. *grimace* I'm always the last one in the line to eat, and I have to eat *quickly*. I'm trying to pick out the foods with more protein and fats since they have more calories per portion, but even so it's hard to inhale enough food to keep going. Meals are different here, as recruits are required to eat silently, with their free hand in their lap, and sitting at attention. As I said, it's different. I'm very grateful, at the moment, that I'm the 'old lady' in the unit. Some of the kids have had a hard time adjusting to being away from home, and the homesickness is giving a lot of them fits; I'm well past the worst of that, I'm happy to say. I do miss everyone, and I look forward to being able to see you all again when all this is done. I may be jumping the gun, but I really hope some of you can make it down for 'Family Day' and Graduation, which are 21 and 22 June. I'll understand if you can't. Just let me know either way, so I can make arrangements to get home if you can't make it. Michael, if you don't mind doing me a BIG favor, I really am going to need more stationery and a roll of stamps. I have letters here from Kate and Amelia, and they sound as if they're planning a raid if I don't write back more often. I'll reimburse you as soon as I can, or you can deduct it from my bank account. I need to close and get some sleep. I'll try to get another batch of letters out by mid-week. I've told them in my letters, but give my love to everyone there. I miss you all. Love, Nicole ***** Sunday, April 8, 2001 Parris Island, SC Nicole sighed as her butt hit the mattress of her rack. She'd attended the available church services, and though they were better than nothing, they lacked the intellectual depth she had always enjoyed. ~I can't say it's just milk, but it was hardly what I'd consider a good, hearty, spiritual meal. There's precious little left to chew on afterward. The poor pastor has to target those most in need, so I'll just have to do some 'home cooking.'~ "Back already?" Connie looked up from reading her letter -- re-reading, in truth, as she'd received only one, from Rod's wife, Chelsea, since arriving. She kept it in a waterproof pocket, safe from the predations of rampaging DIs. It was precious to her as the only tangible sign that someone, somewhere cared. "It was a short sermon today, and I decided there were letters to write." Nicole waved at a small stack of correspondence. "I