“This is a blatant restriction of the press. You and I can’t go out and buy a ship capable of Gate travel. Because of that, we can’t verify what they’re telling us. They tell us who we can talk to, they tell us where we can go. What happened to the freedom of travel? Call your senator and demand to be allowed travel to Earth.”—From The observation room, April 3, 3265.

  Jack woke to an incessant alarm drilling into his brain and forcing him to consciousness. After the previous day’s—and night’s—endeavor, he had what could only be described as the king of all hangovers. The alarm, combined with a truly horrific headache, resulted in what was possibly the worst morning of his life.

  “Shut the hell up, Bob,” he grumbled at the AI living in his HUD. While new recruits had to remove the device at night to recharge, a fully mutated soldier did not. It was such an ingrained part of a person’s identity that not wearing one was just odd. “Can’t you see that we’ve had a hard night?”

  “Oh, well, excuse me then. Perhaps I should just let you sleep in and miss formation? And by the way, a party does not constitute a hard night, it constitutes fun.”

  “Yeah yeah. How about I drop you out of an airlock?” Jack retorted, slowly climbing to his feet and noticing Thea’s absence, “Um… Where’s Thea?”

  “Busy being a responsible adult that can get herself out of bed in the morning, even after what you call a ‘hard night.’”

  “When did she leave?”

  Jack moved to their shared closet and grabbed a clean uniform.

  “When the first notice went out.”

  “What first notice?” he replied, getting annoyed.

  “Now you want to know? A second ago, you were telling me to shut the hell up. Now you’re sooo interested in why I was trying to get you up in the first place.”

  “Bob,” Jack threatened as he slipped on his boots.

  “Yes, yes. You inconsiderate organics will never let a machine speak its peace. If you must know, they have summoned you to the briefing room. And if you’d have woken up with the last alarm, you would have more than six minutes to get there.”

  Shocked, Jack sprinted out of his cabin and just barely got into a lift before the doors closed. Most mornings, the lift was free of people. But today, it was packed with soldiers reporting to their various duty stations around the ship.

  If he missed part of the briefing, it would mean losing valuable information. Especially considering that Captain Griffin had a reputation for not waiting on anyone, especially not a freshly graduated private late to a formation.

  When Jack opened the doors to Charlie Companies’ briefing room, he moved quietly into formation. A side glance from First Sergeant Summers confirmed he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought, and that Jack would hear something about it later.

  “Where were you?” Nessa whispered harshly.

  “Sleeping off the bender of a lifetime,” he replied. “You?”

  “Slept here. I knew it would be rough, so I had my HUD bring me here before I passed out.”

  “Fuckin’ Irish,” Jack replied in a poor imitation of her accent.

  “Got me here on time, didn’t it?”

  “Shit Ness, that’s almost as bad as going to a date in your barn clothes,” Dave joined. “Ask Alec. He can tell you all about that one.”

  “Not right now, he can’t,” Thea said. “The better question is; how did you know we were going to be called in this morning?”

  “Because the old guys said they do this every time a new batch of Privates hits the field. They plan an insanely early briefing and expect you to be here all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,” she replied. “I figured that if I could figure it out, so could you.”

  “Well, we didn’t. And I didn’t even have time to find underwear for this little shindig,” Alec added.

  “We didn’t need—” Warren began.

  “Company, Attention!” First Sergeant Summers called as the Commander walked in.

  “As you were. Good morning, Charlie. As you’ve probably put together, we have a mission,” she said, quickly making her way to the middle of the room. “I know, I know. This formation is usually just to screw with the newbies, but today is different. Unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of sending the new squad down to the planet in search of something that doesn’t exist.”

  A laugh rolled through the company, proving that today was normally a day to mess with the new soldiers. The laughter ceased when the Captain called up a hologram of a planet Jack knew nothing about. Before he could get a good look, she flicked her wrist, and it spun.

  “Before you is the jungle planet of Rymea. It is primarily inhabited by a race of sentient lizard-like people called the Oteric. Don’t be too worried, they are not nearly the monsters the Zvarnnaja are. Instead, these guys resemble the little geckos that are such a pain to get out of your home.”

  The display changed to reveal a small, diminutive creature that couldn’t be more than waist high on a human. With thin skin and opposable thumbs, they could easily be ancient cousins of humans with a different evolutionary turn.

  “Fortunately for us, the Oteric have some of the best engineers in this galaxy. I dare say that if we gave them the right materials and equipment, they could build things we’d never imagine.”

  The display changed again, and she continued, “They’ve built an experimental sub-light engine we want. Based on our spy’s information, this machine could easily increase our maneuverability by sixty percent. Our job, you may have guessed, is to steal it.”

  Jack already didn’t like what he was hearing. But as a private, it wasn’t his place to question such things.

  “Luckily for us, they are not terribly warlike and their military is extremely primitive. It’s the perfect mission for our new soldiers.”

  The hologram returned to the planet’s surface and zoomed in on a specific area.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Because of the high magnetism on the surface, and not knowing the exact location of the goods, we won’t be going by Gate for this little grab and go. Instead, you will ride in drop pods down to the surface and assault the lab from there. Once you are ready for extraction, your armor will act as a beacon for the Gate technician.”

  The Captain turned off the display and finished the briefing. “Team, this is a simple mission with a high reward. I know we can accomplish it with little to no difficulty. However, if things happen to go south, we are relying on you as our boots on ground to keep us in the loop.”

  Jack closed his eyes while listening to the Captain explain the strategy. There really wasn’t much to her briefing, and that was usually a bad thing for missions. After all, more information meant less risk, right?

  He didn’t want to try something like this with a hangover, but it was happening.

  So be it.

  His HUD pinged with a message from his Platoon Leader.

  “Private, I know you are not sleeping in the middle of this mission briefing.”

  “No sir, just a headache.” He replied quickly, “Nothing too crazy. The mission seems to be pretty cut and dry, though.”

  “You’re not wrong. Is Turaspeir ready for their first mission?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Are you ready to lead it?” Lieutenant Hawkins asked.

  “No, but is anyone? I still don’t understand why we aren’t being led by older, more experienced soldiers.” Jack said.

  “Yeah, well, you can thank the Spartans for that. They believed a unit that grew up together would fight harder for each other. You went through Algol together, and not with me. There is no way you could trust me out there, and I don’t blame you.”

  “We’ve served under you for a year.”

  “No, you’ve served Charlie company for a year. Better yet, all you young soldiers see me as nothing more than a glorified paper pusher. You wouldn’t respect me enough to dodge when I told you to, and that would get you killed. But that’s also why you guys are in charge down there. You can make the calls that we can’t, and you can do it with accuracy.”

  “Are there any questions?” Captain Griffin said, already walking toward the door, “No? Then gear up and get moving. Fall out.”

  “You kids ready to rock?” The old, grizzled quartermaster said around a fat wad of chew. Staff Sergeant Smith had been one hell of an infantryman in his day, but he made an even better quartermaster, and today proved that.

  Most young soldiers came to their company believing they would know the right equipment for every mission, and most young soldiers were wrong. On their first shadow mission, almost seven months ago, the older soldier put Alec in his place with a fist to the jaw when the dragoon insisted he didn’t need a certain piece of equipment.

  “I think so,” Jack replied hesitantly. “We have a backup comm and beacon just in case I fall.”

  “Listen, kid, it’s just a smash and grab. Unless you go in like a bull in a china shop and forget you have a team, you’re not going to get hurt, much less killed.” He said, checking over Jack’s armor one more time. “Besides, with Walker and Neilson covering your ass, there’s no way one of those lizards will get close enough to smell a fart.”

  “I think what we have here is a case of the good old pre-mission jitters,” Lieutenant Hawkins said, clapping Jack on the shoulder, “But you’ve done your job, and I’ve done mine. They have everything this mission could need, plus a few surprises for the road. Unless, Smith, you don’t think the gear is up to the challenge?”

  “Shut your hole before I shut it for you, LT. I’ve been to the brig before, and I’m not afraid to spend more time there. What I’m doing-—and you should too—is making sure these young cats think they are ready. They’re not, but I’ll feel better doing this before we put them in a cannon and shoot them at the damned planet.”

  “Still playing unit mama?” Hawkins asked rhetorically before turning to face the combat squad. “He has this thing where he either wants to treat you like a kid or a mental patient. I’m pretty sure he’s done this to every platoon he’s ever served with.”

  “I didn’t think you’d mind it too much,” Ortiz quipped, “Unless, of course, you want to be the mama we go to with our problems? If so, I really need to know Private Sexy is sleeping with someone other than me?”

  “He has a point LT,” Smith laughed. “You really want to deal with that again?”

  “No… no, I do not.” Hawkins said slowly, “Besides, my office would look like crap if we crammed a couch in there. You can keep them. I’ll just be a good little officer and keep doing paperwork.”

  “Good choice.”

  When first joining the Platoon, the disrespectful banter had confused Jack. But the longer he spent with these two, the more at ease he felt. It didn’t take much to recognize that feeling was exactly why the two men acted that way. Offhandedly, he wondered how long the two had done this, or if they even knew what they were doing.

  “No worries, Sir, I’m sure that a luxurious Officers Cabin is perfectly big enough to double as a therapy office,” Jack added, hoping he wasn’t crossing a line.

  “You couldn’t afford my rates on a Private’s salary,” he shot back.

  “True, but I’m all but certain that both Alexander and Ortiz could find a way to raise the money,” Nessa said suggestively.

  “Alright, alright, I give,” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “I’m not going to be your mama. That’s Smith’s job. But I will take you all out for drinks when you successfully nab that engine. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Dave and Alec replied in unison.

  “Do you have any idea just how many drinks we can put down?” Dave asked, promising Hawkins a future of heavy drinks and empty bank accounts.

  The squad followed the two men out of the armory and into a large room they’d never seen before. In the center were four large pods, open and waiting for their inhabitants. Without stopping, they led the Privates to the end of the line and gestured for them to climb in.

  Inside, there was a wide column with docking clamps that would latch on to a soldier’s armor. The walls were a simple slate gray that promised an incredibly boring ride while they fell at unimaginable speeds.

  “These clamps will hold your feet in place,” Smith said, pointing to a pair of groves on the floor, “And the ones behind your shoulders will stabilize you and keep you connected to the craft itself. Stretch now, because once the flight begins, the AI will take over your armor and lock all extremities in place until arrival. Trust me, this is more about your own safety than the armor’s.”

  Metal grinding on metal sounded as ten pairs of boots and shoulders were locked into position. “Alexander’s AI will guide the ship as much as possible, considering the many atmospheric issues on the ground… don’t expect much.”

  The quartermaster raised an old yellow bottle to his lips and spat out his chew, immediately reaching in his pocket for another. “When you land, you will have thirty seconds to prepare as the locks disengage and the walls fall away. Then, you’re on your own. Everything you do after that is up to you, long as the mission gets done.”

  As he stepped out of the pod and sealed the door, a faint whirring sounded as each suit completed its integration and the lights dimmed.

  Seconds later, Jack felt the pod moving and correctly guessed they were being loaded into the drop cannon. He didn’t want to be turned into little more than an artillery shell, but when you were a Private, what else could you do?

  “Guys, I’m willing to admit it. I’m scared.” Dave said over the general comms.

  “Yeah… I think we all are, buddy. Unfortunately, it turns out that there is a little more to being a soldier than singing to pretty girls and drinking beer,” Alec replied. “We all knew that this day would come though…”

  “We graduated yesterday. You can’t tell me you thought we’d be boots on ground today.”

  “Why not?” Nessa asked. “It makes sense to test new soldiers as quickly as possible. And if those tests put us in real world, life and death situations, all the better.”

  “Damn you for being so logical.” Candice joked, “But in all seriousness, we’re just stealing an engine. How hard could it be? Get in, get out, move on. Easy.”

  “And if you piss yourself during the fighting, remember that Smith will make you clean that armor with a toothbrush,” Ortiz added unhelpfully.

  “Damned right I will,” Smith said. “But in all honesty, good luck out there. Remember what Hayward said; get in, get out, move on. And for god’s sake, don’t be a hero. If the situation looks like shit, scrub the mission. AI, you’re good to take over.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant,” Warren’s AI said, “AI’s, please restrain your soldiers until we come to a complete stop.”

  “He’s no fun,” Bob whispered in Jack’s ear. “He should’ve made a joke about your fleshy bodies if he really wanted my attention.”

  Jack realized his movements were no longer his own. Instead, the armor had pinned his arms to his sides and was not even allowing the smallest amount of movement.

  “Launch in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”