Cavalry Book 6:
Operation Morning Glory (Military Scifi)
by Eric Johnson
Chapter 1
(New Faces and New Places)
March 2739
Platoon Sergeant Ross gazed around the landing field on Diemos with wariness and the need to sleep on his mind as he surveyed the myriad starships and other air and spacecraft littered about the small spaceport. He saw a formation of Hurricanes parked neatly by a hangar as he stepped down the access ramp, and followed the small group of what he guessed were Kommando operators. Given the suntans and the way they carried themselves, they were definitely the type he felt as a trickle of sweat rolled down the back of his neck. They weren’t what he called ‘in uniform’ as they sported various types of headgear and a cavalier attitude judging by their looks. He didn’t see much of them while on Kush but he knew they were around doing their own thing on-planet. Sighing, he looked up at the clouds and winced as the sun shone in his eyes. Smoke, he needed one as the lack of nicotine hit him as he followed them through to the processing building.
Looking around he saw someone doing what exactly what he wanted. Knowing he had some time he made his way over there, he set his bags down on the ground, pulled the battered pack out of his pocket, expertly pulled out a cigarette, and then lighting it swiftly with one smooth motion. Ignoring the person beside him he stood there looking around the tarmac at the bustling scene in front of him. Wondering why he was here, he continued to smoke the cigarette until finished. Throwing the butt into the can he exhaled the last breath of smoke, picked up his bags, and walked inside to start the process of whatever he was getting himself into now. The person left without him ever acknowledging who he or she was.
“I gotta go to the hospital, get my gear checked out,” Sergeant Dominic Freese said as he turned away from his squad leader. He was tired and hungry but he had shit to do and was not in the mood for any stupid shit. Shouldering his bag he found his vehicle, threw the medic bag on the empty passenger seat, started the gravcar and slid out of the parking spot, turning on the radio, leaving his cap and shades on. Large and muscular he had a very tight build. As he drove, some of the air wafted on him and he realized that he needed a good shower, but he had to take care of business, and hopefully get laid. Right now that was his priority now that the mission on Dobun was over thankfully. He flew on for another few minutes, and smoothly parked the vehicle in an empty parking spot. Shutting the vehicle down he swiftly grabbed the bag, slid out smoothly, and let the car lock itself as he walked inside the entrance to the hospital.
“I see you didn’t have that many injuries, other than that one death,” Platoon Sergeant de
Vries said to Staff Sergeant Schweitzer as he inventoried the contents of her medical bag.
Surprisingly, most of the stuff he issued to her was relatively intact. Slightly dusty but that was expected.
“You may want to take some time to clean your bag though Sergeant.” Normally quite friendly, he had to add some edge to his tone as he looked the bag over. It had been a couple months since the Cav unit was registered to be back on planet for two months, with one month of leave. He himself had a busy schedule and they themselves were also getting some training of their own done. From the rumors they came from somewhere unknown but so far they seemed ‘normal’, other than the fact that some of them had various conditions not known here. They weren’t untreatable but they still raised some flags in his mind.
“Yes Sergeant,” Staff Sergeant Schweitzer said quietly as she sat there watching him go through the contents of her bag. After they got back and after the small vacation she had finally settled down in New Aachen, found some good clubs to go to and get involved in the local sports scene. Finding a date was hard but she survived through worse as she sat there wishing he’d hurry up. She had nothing else to do but she wanted to get done with this as soon as possible. Since she used to be a mercenary she didn’t have to worry about a set schedule, other than when on contract. What the CO kept putting out as far as a schedule wasn’t much.
Some of the troopers, to include her, had to get used to the rigmarole of some regular military stuff but since they were Kommando, they didn’t have much else except for ranges and combat training; which, after what they’ve all been through, was easy enough for them to handle.
Still she managed to get by but she was missing something…
“Good to go,” Platoon Sergeant de Vries said after he inspected it. Other than small amounts of bandages and creams, and the death of one of their soldiers, things seemed to be in order. He haphazardly replaced the missing supplies and let her take care of it. Nodding to her, he slid the bag to her. “Come see me when you need more. Any more deployments?”
Shaking her head, she wasn’t aware of any offhand. “No Sergeant.”
Shrugging, he idly tried to get some conversation out of her, but she seemed like a stone wall anyways. Maybe somebody else would have more luck with her. “Okay, have a nice day.”
“Thanks,” She said as he shouldered the bag and left. As she started to walk, she looped the other strap through her arm and settled it squarely on her shoulders.
“By the way, we have classes available if you wish to further your knowledge.”
Stopping, she thought about it for a second. Shrugging, she felt she was okay where she was at and could spend more time working on her social life.
“Thanks but I’m good so far.”
“Okay,” Platoon Sergeant de Vries knew she needed more classes by looking at her file, which was why he asked her in the first place. Did she not know she needed to get promoted sometime?
“So… we’re what? Under-strength?” Captain Juniper asked as she sat in her new office. After the time back from Mashara she had done little improvement, adding what little tokens of her former life around to decorate, the only award that meant anything to her after Al-Khedda.
“Somewhat,” MSG Magnusson said as he looked at the datapad in his hands.
“According to the Dutch Army organization we need a Platoon Sergeant… And looks like ‘personnel’ has sent one to us.”
“Who?”
“A… ‘Platoon Sergeant Ross’, and he is due to touch down… wow, today.”
Idly, she looked up at the ceiling as she twirled in her seat slowly, back and forth, back and forth as she stayed in her own form of limbo. She surmised MSG Magnusson didn’t mind as she kept her uniform top off but that was for another time. “Has he landed here?” She stopped and looked at him curiously.
“Uhh… yes he’s currently on-planet. I’ll get somebody to get him.” Switching to his
DJINN link he got Corporal Jones moving on that issue. Can’t leave senior noncoms waiting all day… “I got Corporal Jones moving now ma’am.”
“Good.” She still liked how he handled business, and made things happen. With the weirdness of their situation it was some kind of sanity in what was a confusing universe.
“You know where I’m supposed to go?” Platoon Sergeant Ross said as he talked to the cute desk clerk. After a long trip he’d been on he’d like to take her to his bed… Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he looked intently at her, running his eyes over her body at least surreptitiously. One thing that he learned from scanning all the time is that your eyes seemed to dart around but sometimes you were just looking around the area, not the whole. Leaning against the high desk he at least wanted to take a nap but had to get a nap in.
“Two-Four Cavalry, you know of that unit?” Cutie asked.
“No…” He didn’t know any units on this planet. Matter of fact he didn’t know it existed.
He didn’t know that the planet even existed in the first place so there was also something new in his vocabulary. And a new life the way he understood it as well.
“Well I’ll call them anyway and see if they can’t pick you up,” she said using the communicator built into the desk.
“Okay.” What else could he say when she was that cute? He was tempted to ask for her phone number but first he had to have some unit to go to, get settled down…
Dominic settled his gravcar in a suitable parking spot and shut down the vehicle.
Grousing, he grabbed the bag, opened the door, and shoved himself out. He was tired and really wasn’t in the mood for anything stupid today from Platoon Sergeant de Vries, pestering him about promotions and the like. As he walked through the hospital the people were nobody, a sea which he swiftly moved through and nobody stopped him. He tended to have that effect but for the most part it was his training that had kept him like that. Some of his teammates called it ‘Zen’ or something like that, but he knew how to move his body. As he walked to Platoon Sergeant de Vries’ office he noted a cutie also toting a similar bag, and he let a small predatory smile crease his face. Maybe he would get lucky as he decided to pull the ‘I’m lost’ trick on her.
“Excuse me?” he said.
“Yeah?” Staff Sergeant Schweitzer said, transfixed at what she saw in front of her.
Given the current selection and luck he may be the one… to tame, as some of her instincts came
to mind.
“You know where Platoon Sergeant de Vries is?”
Snapping out of her revelry she gestured to his door, of which she was standing in front
. Smiling, she pointed. “Right here.”
“Oh thanks.” He stood there regarding her for a few silent seconds.
She stood there, doing the same until she realized she had to get back to the unit.
“Excuse me.” Chasing the thoughts away for a few seconds, she regained her bearings and continued on. She’d have to ask around to find out what unit but she recollected as she walked on that he didn’t have any patches and the fact that the Kommando had ‘sterile’ uniforms gave her a lead as she walked out with a smile. Maybe there was something in the air and hopefully she’d get lucky…
Corporal Jones slipped the grav car in the nearest spot at the personnel terminal.
Grumbling, he slid out of the car, remembering to turn off the music as he slammed the door shut. Hurrying into the main door he entered as best as he could to appear like he was there in a timely manner to pickup the new Platoon Sergeant. After looking at the directory board he walked into the arrivals terminal and scanned for a nametape or something that would identify him. Walking up to the clerk in a slight huff, he admired how cute she was. “I’m looking for Platoon Sergeant Ross.”
“One second Corporal,” she said as she looked around for the person she knew that was coming to the new unit here. When she saw his head she outstretched her arm and pointed with a finger. “He’s right there.”
Corporal Jones took his eyes off of her chest and looked to where she was pointing. “Ahh thank you.” He refocused and walked over.
Having waited for an hour now, Platoon Sergeant Ross sat there trying to take a nap unsuccessfully but he felt he drifted in an out anyways. As his eyes opened, he realized somebody was standing next to him. It was a Corporal for sure, but he woke up further before looking at him. “Yeah?”
“Platoon Sergeant Ross?”
“Yeah.” Sitting up, he regarded the young Corporal. His uniform was a little wrinkled but then again they weren’t designed for parades anyways.
“I’m here to pick you up.”
“Ahh okay, let me grab my stuff then.” Sitting up better, he looked around groggily for his gear, remembering it was stuffed into the bottom of the seat. Yawning, he scooped it up by the carrying handle and stood up, shaking himself awake. He must have been out again as he motioned for the Corporal to move out. Following behind, he glanced at Cutie and forgot about her after a few seconds. It wasn’t like she was the cutest girl in the universe. Or the only one from what he saw of the limited selection in his view anyway. Walking outside, Corporal Jones didn’t much like the fact that they needed a new Platoon Sergeant, as he overheard them talking about needing one, wasn’t the MSG enough?
“What other news have we got? Any replacement for Froch in the works?”
“No ma’am, we’re running short, we move one of the tankers into his slot?”
“Maybe, I’m not sure what the good General has plans for the tankers anyways. I’ve put in nominal training for them but it keeps on getting denied, and I’m not getting any concrete word on what exactly what’s going on.”
“So…?”
“So we keep them ‘pure’ for now and hope things don’t come up or a mission or whatnot.
I’m not sure why he’s keeping it mum.”
“Reorganization? I heard somewhere or from somebody that they’re really not even authorized in a Kommando unit.”
“Supposedly we aren’t either but he managed to pull the strings after our performance.”
“You know one thing I hate? Admin stuff, I’d rather go on mission than deal with this shit.”
”Agreed ma’am, agreed.”
“Now… next on the agenda are weapons, the plan is that the arms manufacturer that makes the weapons here has already looked over the M6’s so they’ll start manufacturing them for our use within… about a month or so. I figure we got some leeway with our rep, but General Van Der Kut stresses we keep training with the current Dutch Army weapons and get proficient with them as well so we’re not too caught up in our own weapons we brought over. The Kommando weapons too so we need to start planning ranges and the like.” Sighing, she leaned back on her seat. “I wish Lt. Jones hadn’t gone on vacation now.”
“No problem I’ll get with the Ops guys at Kommando and see how they do it.”
“Good.”
“How many do we have?”
“Enough for the squads minus the PK12 that was shot up on Mashara.” Leaning back, she contemplated the task organization. All of her troopers had the M6 carbines with them so that wasn’t the issue, but the issue was how many until new ones were manufactured? “Get with the Kommando about issuing whatever ‘standard’ weapon they use to the headquarters personnel and keep our M6s for spares until the factory can produce enough for use and spares.”
“Roger that ma’am, you know who I can talk to?”
“I have no clue, but see if Sergeant Dels can find out.”
“Yeah do that, and what about their weapons?”
“Up to you but I want the support elements with something else. Preferably the weapons that the soldiers had on Mashara, whatever those rifles were.” After talking with some of the soldiers while there she had found out that the weapons were fairly reliable, and that for them to have her support elements equipped with them would make more sense. When they were going to Talis and even on Kearse they were issued the same weapons so they didn’t have to rely on the bulkier powerguns.
“The M20?”
“Yeah, whatever they called them,” she said, waving her hand in dismissal she preferred something that worked. She test fired the M20 on Mashara but she was more comfortable with the M6s they were using. Familiarity was the key and she felt the M20 was a last-ditch weapon as opposed to a Troop standard weapon. That, and the recommendation from General Van Der Kut to use them as the primary weapon until they were obsolete or until a directive came down that they had to switch to a more standard weapon. And since he initiated the directives on weapons policies, he didn’t care as long as they did their jobs. However she felt that the line Platoon Sergeants should have them as well as the Krass platoon. Schweitzer was the only wild card as she floated between combat operations and the rear. “Have Schweitzer keep her weapon and have the HQ personnel, except for you, carry the M20.”
“No problem ma’am.” The techs still hadn’t returned his cone bore rifle and he was starting to miss it. After using the M6 on Mashara, he was quite pleased with the design and the reliability. He had used a coil gun in dire circumstances, such as on Halstead against Harris Commando. That was a long firefight… “What about the lost PK12?
“I’m not sure as we lost Froch so we’re ‘up’ all things considered.” It was a sad note to mention that but even then sometimes you have to just push past the emotions. A lost trooper was a lost trooper and that was it. They couldn’t do anything about replacing him yet, though they got a fresh Platoon Sergeant from Kush, maybe they’d get a replacement? She hoped so as she leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. What a life to live with a missing trooper. Like MSG Magnusson said back on Mashara, it was a shame that he had no real family to receive the remains.
“Okay here we are Sergeant,” Corporal Jones said as the grav car settled on the ground with a muffled thump.
“Wow.” Still groggy from lack of sleep, Platoon Sergeant Ross looked at the façade of the building that was supposed to be his new ‘home’. It didn’t look like much as he opened the door. Pulling out a cigarette he lit it quickly, and shut the door. It had been a while so he had to get his fix before seeing his new bosses. The most he saw were the two nameplates, ‘Captain Karyn Juniper, commanding’, and ‘MSG Magnusson’, well it wasn’t the first time he worked for a woman and probably not the last. Nobody was walking around, which was normal for his unit anyway, as he stood there puffing his life away. As he walked he saw a small marble stone with three names laser etched in white on the black marble. Smilgard, Mayer, and Froch’s full names were listed as well as the dates and places. Noting an oddity in the first two he looked at Corporal Jones. “TW?”
“Sorry?” He used the precious few seconds of incomprehension to think up a good story to back that up. After some debate the ‘TW’ was left on due to their ‘different’ beginnings. His mind came up with the Troop line that they used on anybody who didn’t know. Sometimes things had to be just left alone, like people’s time and death.
“It says ‘TW’ after Mayer and Smilgard, and then this year for Froch, any significance?”
“No, the etcher had an issue and we haven’t gotten around to fixing it, and the CO doesn’t want it fixed.”
“I see, and where is Kearse?”
“In the Independent Planets area, we had a fight on our hands before coming back.”
Nodding though something wasn’t quite right he shrugged because he had no alternative and it sounded legit. Most units had an issue with where and when people died but something felt different between the three names that he couldn’t put his finger on. “Okay, lead the way then.”
Staff Sergeant Schweitzer pulled into the Troop parking lot, set down, and spent a few extra seconds listening to the tune on the music station. She didn’t know who it was but she liked it quite well. Moving her head to the beat, she shut the vehicle off, checked herself before exiting, and grabbed her checked bag. She planned on sitting her office and doing ‘something’ for the day as there wasn’t anything scheduled at least for a week. She spent her time studying Arabic, now the language that was prevalent in the Muslim Coalition. As she walked past the line of cars, she noticed Corporal Jones and ignored his look; and, seeing who the new person that was standing there, she scowled and turned her head away, walking inside of the building.
“Who’s that?” Platoon Sergeant Ross said as he stood there, smoking, and watching Staff
Sergeant Schweitzer stride into the building. Eyeing the newcomer (to him) he let his mouth drift over the butt as the smoke wafted around him.
“Staff Sergeant Schweitzer, the Troop medic,” Corporal Jones said as he watched the door close.
Exhaling the last puff of smoke, he flicked the cherry off with his finger. “Nice ass.”
Smiling Corporal Jones started off towards the Troop offices. “I hear that.” Entering the same door that everybody used, he held it open for the new arrival and walked inside to the training room.
“This way Sergeant,” he said motioning for him to follow he started to walk towards the entrance.
Taking off his cap, Platoon Sergeant Ross scanned the area, giving it a once over as he followed. Years of training and reflexes let him smoothly enter and ‘clear’ the room as he let his eyes take in the snapshot while he saw the seat, sat down and relaxed. He was tired and really wanted to take a nap or get some good sleep. Yawning, he took in the rather sparse decorations and furniture and some displays showing the unit strength as well as graphic representations of the vehicles. Some were foreign to even him after thirteen years of being in the Dutch Army. Wasn’t he supposed to be going to special operations? This looked like an armored unit rather than what he thought he was coming to. “What kind of unit is this?” he asked as his eyes drifted around the cream colored walls and black outline. It had the fresh smell of ‘new’ to it and he wondered if they just took it over yesterday.
Sitting down in front of the terminal, Corporal Jones was going to answer honestly but then again they had a briefing on who they really were. It seemed all cloak and dagger to him but so far orders were orders… “A cavalry troop sergeant.” Without making eye contact he sat down and started the terminal, watching the boot-up sequence with a careful eye. They had just gotten them in yesterday and he wasn’t sure what to expect yet. After a long day of transferring data last night, he hoped that nothing would go wrong, as the computers they ‘brought’ had to be destroyed or were by now in order to start blending in as much as possible with their new reality. Deep in his mind, he knew that it was a matter of time but that was a bridge to cross as he methodically and carefully logged in, with the screen showing normally so far. Opening the roster file, he held out his hand. “Smid please Sergeant.”
Nodding, Platoon Sergeant Ross broke from his reverie about wanting to go to sleep and pulled out his smid from his carrier pocket, effortlessly handing it over. “Quiet so far.” Looking out of the window, he expected a lot of traffic but from the flight in the canyon he had the feeling that the special forces community didn’t have much activity back on New Holland. Then his dealings with the Muslim Coalition on Kush couldn’t be any better so to him it was anybody’s guess what happened here. From what his orders were, he was going to find out for awhile, as he knew he read ‘indefinite until ordered otherwise’, which was fine with him as he had some years to go until retired or killed. As he sat there staring at the ceiling while the Corporal in front of him read his data, his eyes flicked on the screen as he looked at the paneling above him and the apparently rough texture that lined the ceiling.
Finished with the data transfer, Corporal Jones pulled the smid out from the receptacle and handed it back to him. “Take a left and two doors down on the right is Master Sergeant Magnusson’s office, he should be in there…” Typing on the messenger icon he typed in seeing if he indeed was there. When the reply came back he nodded. “He’s there Sergeant.”
“Rog.” Platoon Sergeant Ross stood up quickly looking at his travel bag. “Mind if I leave this here?”
“Yeah no problem,” Corporal Jones said as he leaned back when the newcomer left. He didn’t need to be the one briefing him anyway, let the higher ups handle it.
Settling down, Staff Sergeant Schweitzer opened her email while she dialed the digital music, selecting whatever she thought was good. Looking at her sparse office, she wondered how she could decorate it better. Her medical bag was currently her only real equipment which was set carefully in a corner. The rest of the room needed more equipment and she put the request for more supplies through but she didn’t know when she’d get them. Lightly dancing to the beat, she remembered the man she met at the hospital, which made her bounce a bit more. It was good to know that there were good looking men here given what selection she had here. There was a God as she started to look at her inventoried ruck realizing what she had to do was already done. So she decided to see if she couldn’t find out where that man worked. She didn’t even get his name… But she also remembered his face, and she was sure to find something anyway.
Platoon Sergeant Ross walked down the hallway to the room specified noting that the
DJINN implant wasn’t picking anything up. He was without holographic symbols floating in the air to guide him other than the oral ones that the Corporal gave to him. Sighing as a wave of tiredness washed over him he stopped in front of the door, sighed again, and knocked firmly. After hearing a muffled ‘Enter!’ he opened the door smoothly as best he could and opened into the finest woman he did see… without her uniform top on and… figuring out where he was he stopped, regained his bearing and stood at attention, saluting. “Platoon Sergeant Ross reporting as ordered ma’am.”
Returning his salute, Captain Juniper motioned for him to sit. “Welcome Platoon Sergeant.” Pointing to MSG Magnusson, “This is Master Sergeant Magnusson, my Troop senior noncommissioned officer.”
Glancing towards him while standing there he nodded. “Master Sergeant.”
“Sit down Platoon Sergeant,” MSG Magnusson said casually. They weren’t disciplining him just a first meeting. Besides he was already tired just from getting the admin issues sorted out and it had only just been an hour.
“Yes ma’am.” Sitting down at the available chair, Platoon Sergeant Ross sat down professionally as his main concern was just sleeping at the moment. Stifling a yawn he put his hand to his mouth to be respectful.
“Tired?” MSG Magnusson asked with a raised eye and a slight smile on his face as he regarded him.
“Yes Master Sergeant, long flight here,” he said adjusting himself while still wishing he could go to sleep right now.
“Yeah… it is long… but anyways I’ll just welcome you to the Troop. We’re kind of different than most as you’ll see down the road.” Pausing, he shifted slightly on his seat as he took stock of the situation. “We’re an armored slash infantry unit and we’re highly mobile and capable and since we’re part of the Kommando, we’re just a rapid reaction unit so far. So if you think that I’m unsure well I and the commander are the same way, we’re kinda new ourselves in a way but after looking at your record on Kush we’re glad to have you on the team.”
“Where are you from then Sergeant?” Incomprehension flooded his brain as he took stock of the situation as clouded as it was. What was he talking about?
“A long ways Sergeant, we’ll leave it at that for now,” he said glancing towards Captain Juniper. He looked back at him. “But for the most part we were on Mashara for a half a year so worry about taking care of getting settled in the unit. When you start you’ll be our Headquarters Platoon Sergeant as I need a breather,” he said glancing towards Captain Juniper for any acknowledgement of his own desires. Normally, when he was in Fasolini’s, they really didn’t mind too much but here was a bit different. Maybe a little too different for even his tastes of regimentation, in which the only thing regimented was the command structure back in another time and place.
”No problem Master Sergeant. I-“
“We read your file so we know what you have done, at least on digits,” MSG
Magnusson said matter of factly. The admin pukes had enough sense to send them the digital files so they could at least get an electronic indication of Platoon Sergeant Ross’s capabilities.
However, he was a firm believer in actually seeing how the soldier operated for real rather than going by datawork. So many intricacies to deal with… Let alone a whole Troop of attitudes and views towards their new life to include their own.
“Need some sleep Platoon Sergeant?” Captain Juniper asked as she regarded him with a raised eyebrow. She saw the look of forced awareness in his behavior and felt he could use a day to himself to get settled in. They had nothing much else to do and a new Platoon Sergeant could start fresh the next day. “Master Sergeant Magnusson, if you don’t have anything for him, I suggest we let him get settled in, get some sleep and come in tomorrow.”
“I currently don’t have a place to stay at the moment ma’am.” He knew that it was a noncom issue but since he was talking to her…
“No problem, we took over some empty barracks right above the Troop offices and you can use that as a temporary resting spot until you find something else. And ma’am I have nothing else for him,” MSG Magnusson looked towards Platoon Sergeant Ross and nodded. “I’ll get Corporal Jones to get you there. Just go back to the training room and he’ll take it from there.”
“Thanks Sergeant.” Standing up, he saluted Captain Juniper, holding it until it was returned. Slowly turning around he left and closed the door behind him.
Corporal Jones regarded the new Platoon Sergeant with a curious look. “You have a
place to stay?”
“Negative.” Usually he had that sorted out but he didn’t know anybody here or where to start looking. Then again he did have the excuse of just showing up. At least he hoped he was afforded that luxury… his last commander nearly relieved him on the spot due to that reason, which in all sense of the word was uncharacteristically extreme and unfair. Luckily two weeks later he got relieved before his company was to ship out to Kush. It was something about not reporting his strength properly and lying to the Battalion Commander about the status… At least he got a break from the harrows of the mountains and valleys. Leaving it was fine enough for him and a good break was nice either way.
“Think he’s good?” Captain Juniper asked as she leaned back, turning her head towards
MSG Magnusson. Usually it was the officer’s job to evaluate noncoms but she still had a long way to go in that regard.
Shrugging, he adjusted himself on the seat some more. “I think so but we’ll have to see though.”
“So in other words you really don’t have an idea?”
Shaking his head in deference, he crossed his leg on his knee and adjusted himself slightly on the small sofa. “No, I really don’t.”
“Well you’re a lot of help today,” she dryly observed as she pulled up some datawork on the Troop, mainly rosters and equipment inventories she had yet to finish after Mashara. Losing one trooper and a weapon didn’t help too much but…
“I haven’t had my coffee yet.”
Returning back to the training room, Platoon Sergeant Ross yawned as he entered, smoothly walking in. “Hey Corpor-“
“I got the message Sergeant, give me ten minutes to finalize the key and you’ll be set.”
Blanching at the rapid response he was surprised at some efficiency.
“We’re only realistically two platoons in strength Sergeant, it’s not that hard.” Winking, he typed in the request for the key. “I need your smid Sergeant.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said, absentmindedly handing him his smid as he looked outside, watching the yellowish clouds roll in slowly. It looked like it was going to be a heavy rain as he felt the tinge of nicotine withdrawal. “Mind if I go smoke?”
“I’m almost done anyways Sergeant so if you can wait?”
“Yeah.” Watching the clouds, he realized it would be a heavy one… hopefully he’d sleep through it all he thought as he yawned again. He really needed some sleep.
Finished with typing the code he handed the smid over. “Here you go Sergeant,”
Reaching out while looking, he took the smid in one hand and pocketed it quickly.
Stooping over he picked up his bags and cap. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Corporal Jones locked the terminal and stood up, following behind Platoon
Sergeant Ross, making sure the door was closed and firmly locking it. “I’ll go let Top know that we’re leaving, I’ll meet you outside.”
Letting the need for ‘replenishment’ he walked slowly outside by himself nodding as he carefully fished out another cigarette from his pocket. As he lit it, he realized someday he’d actually quit too. But, instead, he stood there and puffed it while he waited for Corporal Jones to show up and take him to his ‘home’. He was tired and he felt himself sway a little bit as he was more tired than he wanted to admit but he stood and finished the cigarette.
“Sorry about that Sergeant had a few things to take care of,” Corporal Jones said as he found the folder with the keys in it. “Here’s the key Sergeant. If you need to get a hold of me or the unit just give us a call, the contact information is on the smid.” Finding the right key, he handed it to Platoon Sergeant Ross. “If you’ll follow me outside I can help you with your gear.”
“No problem,” Platoon Sergeant Ross said as he watched Corporal Jones open the gravcar up to let him get his personal gear with which he came. When it opened, he set his bags on the ground beside the car and then once he made sure with tired eyes that he had everything he nodded to him. Yawning again, he closed the door, leaned his head back and took his hat off. He wasn’t totally out of shape but he felt a few beads of sweat form on his forehead. Groggily, he looked around at his surroundings. Definitely barracks that were on top of the Troop buildings and it made sense to his tired mind, no need to hunt down your soldiers when they were right there above you. He wondered what the condition was inside one of the rooms. It looked very nondescript and no DJINN indicators yet. Maybe they needed to program his link and he’d get the feed, so he’d have to depend on everybody else for now.
“Thanks.” The next priority was of course to go to bed. Walking inside, he lazily set his gear down and looked at the sparse accommodations with a tired mind. At this point he didn’t care as he walked towards the bed with his mind swimming from the lack of sleep. He heard the door shut and he took off his cap, undid his blouse as he sat down, and tossed them both off to the side as he leaned forward to undo his boots. Once undone, he kicked them off as he figured he could straighten out his small mess later on, when more rested. By the time he got comfortable and let his mind go he drifted off as soon as he could. It wasn’t long before he was settled in to a new place; the only thing on his mind as he drifted off was what did he get himself into?
Grab Your Copy 2/4 Cavalry
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