Hunting

I stalked through the narrow and cluttered passageways of the ship. My eyes were peeled. I would find my prey. I would pounce.

Hull Technician Chief (HTC) had been avoiding me for days. I had finally gotten my claws on his henchman, HT2 Ginger, but Chief had been elusive. I needed to sick my teeth into him. I needed him or else I would continue to be useless to my department. My entire existence on the ship depended on me hunting down this one man. I wouldn't fail. I refused.

My fingers clenched the dirt-filled rim of the scuttle just beneath HTC's office door. I rose up and peered inside. Empty. I climbed out and slid around the corners, heading for the galley. I figured he had probably taken to hiding in engine-spaces or some other hot, dirty place I had no interest in going. But that day, I would search every inch of the ship if I had to. I was ready for him.

I found a little DC3 talking to one of the cooks. Engineers are engineers are engineers. They stick together in a pack. DCs with HTs with GSEs with MMs. Maybe she knew where I could find HTC. If anyone did, one of the pack-members was my best bet.

"Hey, have you seen HTC around?" I asked her with a deceptively sweet smile.

She looked me over, obviously wondering what a topsider would want a HT Chief for. Not just an HT, of which there was one other, but a chief. Her eyes glanced down the hallway, along the mess line. I followed her gaze. There, in sagging coveralls, dingy and faded, was HTC. He towered over LtJg. DCA, a tiny black woman who was always smiling. Perfect.

I pivoted 90 degrees and stalked towards him. He sensed my presence. He turned towards me. His eyes widened, the fear showing for a brief moment. I grabbed DCA by the elbow and led her away from me. She followed him without question. Whatever warning he whispered into her ear, I didn't hear. All I heard was the thudding of war drums.

Adrenaline coursed through  my veins as I neared my target. My mouth salivated. I was ready to attack. I would complete the initiation into my division, my own little pack of hyenas.

He turned strait into a hatch. The door was closed due to the A/C being broken. He had initiated an all-doors-closed initiative. This was his own undoing.

He un-dogged the hatch as quickly as he could. He shoved DCA through. The door began swinging shut. I lashed out and grabbed the handle. Our eyes met through the tiny, round porthole. It was like the sight on a rifle. He knew he was done for.

"HTC," I cooed, a wicked smile plastered to my face. "I'm so glad I ran into you."

"I'm kind of in a hurry," he grumbled. His eyes whisked to DCA for help. She watched the scene, clueless.

"I'll only be a minute," I assured him. His death would be quick. "I was hoping to get my craftsman test from you."

His frown deepened.

"Didn't you promise her yesterday that you would give it to her today?" DCA said, giving him a knowing look.

He was mine.

"Fine, but lets get it over with," he growled.

I won. I got it. Hell, I even passed the damn test.

Next time someone wants to keep me from my quals, they should think twice.

ET3 out.