Chapter 9: Consequences

Leo didn’t walk so much as he seethed down the hallways towards his quarters. Not only had the little faggot sucker punched him but he’d gotten away with it. What kind of panty-assed operation was this? He was the fucking sponsor here, not her. She should have just spread ‘em like a good little bitch.

So fat ass got to the redhead first. So what? It wasn’t fair the way he’d done it. Leo still believed the fucker should have had to put his women in the general pool. It would have been fair. Then he would have grabbed her and there wouldn’t be a problem.

Leo didn’t say spit about the dust-up with the little redheaded whore and her faggot, but word must have got out some fucking way. He passed a few of the other Reapers as he made his way back to his barracks, but they just looked at him like he had the stink on him. Not a one of ‘em said a damn word to him and most wouldn’t meet him in the eye.

“Maybe we were wrong about you.”

Leo heard the harsh, gravelly voice just as he was about to turn into his quarters. He didn’t need this shit. All he wanted was to get back to his quarters and hit the rack. It had been a long fucking day and he didn’t need anyone to make it any longer.

He turned to see who was talking shit to him, but he didn’t recognize the man. Of course, it was sometimes difficult to tell them apart – there wasn’t a lot of variety in two-meter walls of pure fucking muscle.

“Names Brody,” the muscular mountain grumbled. He noted the belligerence in the man in front of him and decided to head it off. “Lance Corporal Brody – so I outrank you. I’m also the leader of your fire team, so I’d be very careful about the next words that come out of your mouth.”

Leo ground his teeth but managed to keep his mouth from spitting out what he wanted to say. This just wasn’t right. He had the fucking experience – he should be a fucking officer, not some goddamn private. This whole fucking thing was fucked up – maybe those union assholes were right, after all.

“Yes, Lance Corporal,” Leo grunted, his face a sea of raw anger.

“How could you let some pansy-ass Naval puke fuck you up?” Brody snarled. In truth, his heart wasn’t in this. He’d seen the vid. Gunter hadn’t stood a chance. The Navy puke had suckered him good. Of course, Gunter shouldn’t have been touching another sponsor’s concubine – but he was new. Mistakes were going to be made. Still, Sarge had been very specific about what the Lieutenant expected. He wasn’t sure why it was necessary, but he’d learned a long time ago not to question the Lieutenant. He was always thinking ten moves ahead.

“You’re giving the Reapers a bad name, Gunter.”

“He’s a fucking chicken-shit, man,” Leo replied, his lips curled. “Motherfucker sucker-punched me while I wasn’t looking. He knew I’d kick his fucking ass if he tried to go square with me.”

“That shouldn’t matter,” Brody replied, feigning anger. “You can’t ever let a fucking Navy puke best you. No Reaper is ever going to knuckle under to some Navy puke.”

Brody spit on the ground. Well, that part he truly believed. They were the Reapers, after all - dickheads beware and everyone else stay the fuck out of our way.

“And what’s this I hear about it all being over some conk? We’re the fucking rock stars of the Marines, man. Fighting over a conk? Does that sound like what rock stars do?”

“I can’t help it if the bitch wants me,” Leo grumped. It wasn’t exactly a lie. He was confident that she’d want him if the asshole wasn’t around – or even if she just spread for him just once. “Pussy boy won’t let her have me but he was planet-side so I thought I’d give her a chance. It wasn’t my fucking fault he came back just as she was going to jump on my ride.”

“That shit ain’t going to fly here, Gunter,” Brody grunted, his voice softening lightly. He needed to follow the script, but he wasn’t much of an actor. “You don’t touch another’s conk without permission. So get permission. We’re the goddamn Reapers, we take what we want, where we want and when we want. No goddamn Navy puke is going to get in our fucking way, you got it? We break Navy into small pieces, chew ‘em up and shit ‘em out. Make it right, motherfucker, or I will. Then, I’ll come and find you. Comprende?”

Leo nodded, afraid to allow himself to talk.

“Good, now get to your rack,” Brody snarled. “Tomorrow we’ll make you a fucking Confederate Marine – so get some rest. You’ll need it.”

Brody gave Leo a look promising future pain and walked by, being sure his shoulder slammed Leo out of the way as he passed. Leo clenched his hands but kept them at his side. Brody was taller, heavier and far more muscled. The fucker was a fucking slab of fucking muscle. Striking him would just bring Leo more pain. In time, though, he’d get the asshole back. Paybacks were a bitch.

Leo grunted as he entered his quarters. He grunted again when no one was waiting for him and he let out a sigh.

Goddamn it! You’d think they’d fucking learn.

He shook his head, trying hard to bite back his anger. They fucking knew he expected them to be on their knees, chests out and hands behind their backs. He’d been very specific when he went out. Sure, he was an hour and a half late – the whore mother of his kids hadn’t wanted to give them up, stupid fucks – but they should have fucking been waiting anyway.