Lieutenant General Nguyen

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</noinclude>

Noah shoos them through the door to a well-appointed anteroom. "See you gentlemen in an hour," he says and zooms off.

"That kid's gotta cut back on sugar," grumbles Logan.

Jackson's chuckle yields to a cough, quickly smothered in the crook of his elbow.

Feet pad across the anteroom carpet.

"Rangers Jones?"

Logan grunts in the affirmative.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Chantell Nguyen, she-her-hers, the Marshal's equerry."

"Logan Jones." He bows.

Jackson lifts his eyes, takes in Chantell's neat dress, warm smile, and South Asian features. "Ja—" Clears his throat, bows. "Jackson Jones. We're both he-him-his." Lets his eyes slide back to the rug.

Chantell shuffles her feet. "Da— The Marshal's running a little behind this morning, but the chairs in his office are [available] for the taking." Grins. "[They're] /**way** comfier." She leads them into a wood-paneled office, offers them a pair of chairs before the desk.

"Thanks," says Logan.

Jackson nods, "Th—" Coughs.

"You're very welcome." Chantell bows, skips from the office.

Logan flops in, sprawls.

Jackson eases himself down, smothers another cough.

Uneven humming and busywork from the anteroom—

Chantell squees. ""Baby time!""

Jackson perks up, twists around—

"Jaaack ...," warns Logan.

—spots the fluffy blond from yesterday's briefing, beaming with a mobile.

""Ohmigosh, is this Izzy? I /**love** his hair!""

Jackson hisses, waves Logan off.

Fluffy notices Jackson watching, invites him over.

Jackson heaves himself to his feet, joins the huddle in the anteroom.

Logan sighs.

Fluffy offers a view of their mobile.

A blond bean, five-ish, with a hundred-watt smile and fluffy curls tied up with about a billion ribbons in a rainbow of colours.

"That's Izzy," informs Chantell. "He's the daycare's resident charmer."

Fluffy grins, swipes.

Another blond bean, smaller than the first, wearing a daisy-patterned sun-dress and a matching flower crown in their hair.

"Anni, right?" asks Chantell.

Fluffy keeps smiling at the picture.

Chantell taps Fluffy's arm.

Fluffy glances up, blinks.

"Anni, right?"

Fluffy bobs their head, grins.

Jackson cautiously taps Fluffy's arm.

Fluffy turns, dopey smile on full display.

"How—" Coughs. "How old is Anni?"

Fluffy holds up three fingers, wobbles the mobile hand.

"Almost three?"

Fluffy nods.

Jackson swallows, croaks, "My Book's just a little older."

Fluffy beams, swipes the image gallery closed, taps away with their thumbs—

Precise footsteps cross the room, then someone clears their throat.

Chantell nudges Fluffy's shoulder.

Fluffy glances up, fumbles the mobile into a grey jumpsuit pocket, salutes—

"Good morning, Officer Vos," greets the someone, inclining their head: middling height, powerfully built, commanding presence that's somehow still warm.

Officer Vos smiles, waves, scampers.

"You must be Ranger Jones."

"Jackson, he-him-his." Bows.

"Marshal Thomas Nguyen, he-him-his." A deep bow. "It's my pleasure to finally meet you." Gestures to the office door. "Let's join your brother and make ourselves comfy."

Chantell tugs the Marshal's sleeve.

He sighs. "I'll be just a moment, Ranger."

Jackson grunts, returns to his chair.

.

[and the words ran out, except for the following snippets]

.

Something soft and grey drops into Jackson's lap.

"Seems like you need him," says Chantell and she shoots from the room.

Jackson smiles to himself, fiddles with the plush drop bear's hat.

.

Chantell returns a moment later, clatters a tea service down in front of them, zipping around the desk like the Energizer bunny. "And, hot chocolate."

The smile and contentment slide from Jackson, his hands from Major Harry.

"Telly," says the Marshal.

Chantell puffs out her cheeks, eyes flashing.

The Marshal drums his fingers against the desktop.

Chantell /*hmph*s out.

.

["Gentlemen," says Nguyen, "on behalf of the Pan-Pacific Defence Corps, welcome to the Shatterdome."

"Thank you, sir," replies Logan.

Jackson nods.

"I must apologize for the [quietness/unpreparedness] of your arrival--"

Chantell says brightly, "Usually we have a parade."

"Officer."

Chantell grins, ducks out of sight.

"We try to be a bit more put-together here--"

Chantell adds, leaning into the doorway. "Food actually in the fridge, for instance."

"Officer."

Chantell leans out of the doorway, grinning.

"I trust, however, that everything will be arranged in short order."

"Thank you," says Logan.

"You may address me as 'Marshal Nguyen' or as simply 'the Marshal'; You shall not call me 'Thomas', neither 'Nguyen' unless preceded by 'Marshal'--"

"'Dad' is right out," adds Chantell.

"Officer."]

.

Jackson gently squeezes a grey-furred paw.

touches each black felt triangle in turn.

.

Gently places the plushie in the center of Chantell's desk, gives the cute little hat a final pat, and shuffles out.

.

["So," says Chantell.

"So."

"Mayjor Harry didn't help, dry humour-humour humour might as well've been a funeral march, and Monty Python went over like a lead balloon."

"Sounds about right," mutters Nguyen.

"Something is seriously wrong here."]