God's Lost Child 
Chapter 2: An Indefinite Prisoner Of War 

"Unbelievable! Un-fucking-believable."
A nerdy blonde cussed as he stormed  through the upper deck of Sovereign, his hands raised above his head in protest. 
"Oh, let's put Baird in charge of the rookie! Since he's busy anyway. Let's just give him più shit to do, that's easier on us!"
He continued to fume violently as Nicole followed a sicuro, cassetta di sicurezza distance behind. The rest of Delta Squad had dispersed to their cabins to change into their night attire. Baird had been chosen to school the rookie, thanks to his big mouth.  After a bit of sighing and head shaking,  he had calmed himself and began to make his way to the bottom of the ship. Baird was told to get Nicole situated in a living quarters, then get them both to the Mess Hall for supper. 
Baird suddenly called from over his shoulder:
"Keep up, rook."
Nicole jogged to his side and matched  him step for step.
"Not so close, rookie."
detto woman scowled at him and sighed heavily. He raised a brow cockily and turned his head  toward her, he could see clear over her head. She felt his eyes and turned her head back upward to look back at him. 
"So,"
Her face softened slightly.
"Where did te learn to do all that ass-kicking stuff?"
She gave a small side smile and tucked hair behind her ear. Baird's blue orbs wandered past her eyes, he watched her bite her bottom lip.
"Well, my dad was a tough man, fighting during the Pendulum Wars... I was brought up with a 'Its either me, o them.' Sort of mentality..." 
Baird continued to listen as he pushed the double doors to the lower deck open.  Rooms were on both side of the hallway, some doors left agape. 
"And I learned to defend myself when   locusta stormed through my hometown." 
Baird could only nod as he fished keys from one of his many pockets and unlocked a door. 
"This is yours."
He kicked it open. It was a simple room, with nothing più than a cot built into the side of the wall, and a small closet with a dresser inside. A small window showed the water beneath the ship.
"Lavatories'  down the hall." 
He motioned with his thumb. 
"There should be clothes in that drawer there, get dressed."  
He pointed to the drawer  and closed the door as he left.

Cold. That's what the room was. Flat out frigid. The barca had been submerged in the water, causing the hull to be extremely cold. The room was cramped, though it was empty.  Nicole pulled out the superiore, in alto drawer of the dresser, a tank top,  t-shirt and sweat pants were all that had remained. She pulled her own tank off and folded it neatly on superiore, in alto of the dresser. She quickly removed her pants and stepped into the baggy sweat pants. Her boots were left on. 
Baird knocked on the door. 
"Almost ready?"
Came his coarse tone.
"Yeah. Just a second." 
Her voice was much lighter than his. He sounded like he had just gargled gravel; while she had a light silvery voice.
Nicole folded her pants and made her way to the small metal door. She  slowly turned the door handle and met Baird once more. He too had changed into lounge wear and removed his goggles and gloves. 
"Let's move."
He detto with vigor. Nicole scanned his physique, he wore the same clothing as her. His arms were quite muscular, his chest real thick. She realized she had been staring and  blinked rapidly, turning her head away. 
"You know, I feel bad for you..."
Baird suddenly spoke out. 
"Why...?"
Her voice was less of the light and feathery tone that she was used to, and più urgent and tight.
He chuckled cockily. 
"You're gonna have to get all that hair chopped off." 
Her face melted into a depressed mug as she ran her fingers through her flowing locks. She had always had long hair, it was a part of her, she grew up with her midnight tresses.
"Women in the COG can't have long hair, endangers their life. Could get stuck in gun clips, o a Grub could get ahold of it. Hell, I don't know." 
Nicole nodded and looped a thin strand of coal-colored hair around her finger. 

They had retch the Mess Hall, finding it was full of COG soldiers all dressed in the same attire. This had to be one of the largest places on the ship.
 Cole waved over from the Cibo line, Baird and Nicole walked toward the large man. Nicole earned a few side glances from men, seeing as she was one of the few women in the Military. She shivered silently, her skin prickling up at this sensation. 
"Grab a tray, rookie."
Marcus elbowed her in the ribs. Nicole hadn't gotten a real good look at him before, but something seemed eerily familiar about his craggy face. The small blue eyes set far back into his head, the locked-jaw and thousand yard stare. She knew she had seen this potent man before.
She retch down  to the stack of metal trays sitting on a carrello successivo to the long steel Cibo line. 

The rest of Delta Squad had gotten their cena and had taken a sede, sedile at one of the long metal tables. Baird, Cole and Marcus sat at one side of the table. Sam, Anya, Nicole , Jayce and Carmine were seated at the opposite side. Nicole mostly played with her fork, spinning it around on one of the prongs. 
"What's your issue?" 
Carmine had removed his casco and had it sitting beside him. He was young-faced with light ash-brown bristly hair. His eyes were a mint green, his mouth having a natural curl at the corners. He had attempted to strike up a conversation with the green horn. 
"Clayton Carmine. You're....?"
Carmine extended his right hand, his left was currently holding  a fork. 
"Nicole Theory." 
She gripped his hand firmly, yet held it like a lady would. Clayton smirked and released her hand. 
"No issue here, Sir. Just adjusting."
Nicole assured him. He nodded justly and returned to his food. 
Nicole continued to mess with her pronged utensil. She just listened in to what was being conversed at the other end of the table. 


"Bed time, rook." 
Nicole tore her attention away from her ever so interesting eating  tool and saw her instructor standing above her. 
"Yes, Sir."
Nicole stood up slowly from the table, putting down her fork. She threw her arms above her head and stretched them. 
"You will receive your gear tomorrow."
Marcus told her as he walked away from his spot at the table. 
Baird motioned for Nicole to follow him to her sleeping quarters in the lower deck of the ship. Carmine had walked  to the side of Nicole. 
"It was nice to meet you, Theory." 
She smiled sweetly as he returned the favor. It wasn't the kind of grin he was used to. No, this was completely different. She hadn't smiled like this in a while. It felt foreign on her lips, almost alien. His smirk was cute, his cheeks rising up to ingoiare, inghiottire his certosa, chartreuse  eyes. His face was secure , though it seemed his mask of potency had been cracked and splintered before. Yet another man altered da the Military. But was it for better, o for worse?
"It was great meeting te today also, Sir."
Baird could help but roll his blue orbs into the back of his skull. 
"Could we get a sposta on? I'm exhausted."
Carmine shot him a dark stare as he picked his casco up from the tavolo beside him. Nicole turned to the fair-haired tyrant.
"I can make it to my room from here.  Good night te two." 
And with that, she was gone.