I finally have a start on a story that I am somewhat satisfied with. Please do not spare any criticism. This is about a sixth of the planned length.
The Martian Ranger Company E Lounge was a bit busy with most of the day shift squads and support squads represented. Privates Riley Jo Diakite and Chad Brown proceeded directly to the auto-bar. Diakite got her debit card into the machine first, and snagged a bottle of Schiaparelli Gold pilsner and held the door open for Brown. He selected an Indus Red, quickly twisted off the cap and drank deeply.
“Come on, Brown! Move!”, said a Ranger behind him.
Diakite responded, “Come on, get of Clarke’s way – others are thirsty too.” She pulled Brown off to the side and they turned around, backs and elbows on the bar. They assessed the room while drinking their beers.
“Hey, there’s Bennet in the corner.” Brown pointed with his bottle at their squad leader, half hidden in a booth against the far wall. “Let’s join him”.
Diakite looked thoughtful, and said “Hmm, I don’t think so. Look at him. He’s not gulping down his beer and not joking with anyone like usual. I don’t think he wants company right now.”
Brown looked more closely, and noticed that their Senior Corporal Neville Bennett was just staring at the tabletop, occasionally sipping from his beer. Strangely, he did have two small empty glasses on the table. He muttered, “I guess so.”
They drank their beers quickly, upholding their reputation as having learned from Bennett, the Company’s reputed best guzzler. Brown got the second round while Diakite sauntered over to a table with three Rangers. They enthusiastically invited the pair to join them. A moment after Brown brought new bottles, Captain Édouard de Carré came into the Lounge. He waved down the few rookies who started to stand with his right hand; his left was occupied by a fifth of some whiskey. The CO headed across the Lounge toward Bennett, but in a roundabout way. He greeted several Rangers by name, asking about their children, or some minor life crisis.
The Captain finally reached Bennett’s booth and set the bottle down before sliding in opposite the Corporal. Bennett opened the bottle and poured two very stiff drinks. The two men saluted each other then downed the drinks. The Captain poured them both another and they repeated the little ceremony. De Carré stood up, clapped Bennett on the shoulder and left. Neither had spoken a word.
Diakite and Brown looked at each other, and told the three they were with they would meet at dinner. The two Rangers got up and sauntered over to Bennett’s booth.
“Can we join you, Corporal?”, asked Diakite, all militarily correct. Bennett just waved them into the booth. “Are you all right?”
“Chad, go get a couple of glasses,” ordered Bennett listlessly, in his gravelly bass voice. “I’d better not drink this whole bottle by myself. And I’m good – it’s just 14 June.”
After Brown got back, Bennett poured drinks for all of them. “Cheers.”
Ever the nosy one, Brown queried “What was all about? With the Cap’n, I mean.”
“Just something we do on 14 June,” came the response. Bennett kept looking into his empty glass, then filled their glasses again. Even for him, this was drinking a lot quite rapidly.
Before picking up her drink, Diakite quietly spoke “What’s so special about the 14th, Neville?”
Bennett paused a moment, then downed his drink before replying. “Worst case of my career.” He seemed reluctant to talk. Then he continued, “It was seven years ago. A wellness check that went bad.”
Brown spoke lightly, “Don’t tell me you had a gunfight.” He chuckled.
Bennett glared at him for a moment as Diakite said bitingly “Chad, shut up, man!”.
Bennett started speaking, “Like I said, it was seven years ago. The Captain was the Company First Lieutenant then; been here only a couple of months. I had my first squad, two good men. Rafael Orsini and Julio Alvarez.”
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I was called to the Officer of the Day’s office at 08:20. Since routine comms were reviewed and sorted starting 20 minutes earlier, I knew it was a mission. I was hoping it was an out-of-towner; I had not led one since becoming a squad leader.
Lieutenant de Carré waved me in before I could knock. “I have a mission for you, Corporal Bennett. Two, possibly, depending on the first. I’m not hopeful.”
“Yessir. Thank you, sir,” I replied trying to suppress my excitement.
“Don’t thank me yet, Corporal. First is a wellness check at a farm 100 klicks north on the Cassini Road. Sister of the farmer has been trying to contact him for two days. It’s been four since she last talked with him and his family. Wife and two children. You know what to do if it turns bad, yes?”
“Call in forensics and start an investigation, Lieutenant.”
“Justement. I fully expect it will turn bad, Corporal. It has been too long. I am getting a forensics team ready on stand-by. Now, if it does resolve nicely, then proceed to the station in Cassini. They have a prisoner ready for transport to Schiaparelli Prison. Sergeant Wu is readying a van for your squad.”
“Yessir, wellness check, call forensics if needed then pickup a prisoner in Cassini,” I summarized his instructions.
He handed me a thumb drive, saying “This has the original request and everything Company A could find out about the farm. Carry on.”
I took the drive with my left hand and stepping back, gave a quick salute. As I walked out, I drew out my PDA and paused in the outer office to alert my team. Then, I hustled to don my leathers and grab my go-bag.
Ten minutes later, the squad – Junior Corporal Orsini and Leading Private Alvarez - met me at the Company garage. I looked them over, making sure they had on camouflaged leather suits. “Listen up! First thing is a wellness check 100 kilometers north. We’ve got a van getting ready, so let’s go,” I snapped the words out.
I saw Sergeant Wu looking at a tablet, checking things off, so I figured the van by him was ours and headed over.
Following along, Orsini began talking, in his nasally baritone voice.
“I’m looking forward to this. Been wanting to run one of those new vans up to its limits.”
Alvarez asked, “How are the new ones different, Rafael?”
Orsini said “It’s half a meter skinnier but over a meter longer: two and a half by seven and a half. Same height, though, but better batteries and motors. They say it can hit 150 on rough terrain.”
“Wow, nice!,” said Alvarez.
I interrupted, “Orsini, you ain’t no goddamn race driver and the Cassini Road ain’t no fricking race course! Stick to procedure – 100 kph max.”
“Neville, come on, man. Let me run ‘er out.”
I just glared at him, and almost ran into Sergeant Wu. Damn it, way to look sharp, boy! Being ten centimeters taller and twenty kilos heavier, Wu just reached his hand out and stopped me. Then gently patted my shoulder, thrusting the tablet in his other hand at me.
“This is yours, Bennett. Fully charged, two weeks rations and weapons on board. Sign here.”
“Thanks, Huang. I’ll bring it back in one piece – promise.”
He grinned as he replied, in a fake sotto voce, “Not if you let Orsini drive.”
Already inside, Orsini leaned out and flicked his fingers off his chin. Wu laughed and walked off to other duties.
I climbed in and closed the hatch. “All right, Rafael, you can drive, but keep it under 100. Let’s get moving.”
Orsini took the driver’s seat and carefully pulled into the garage’s airlock. Alvarez used the remote console, and got the airlock cycling. When it was open, Orsini pulled out at a sedate 25 kph, then sped up to 45 as the van hit the first feeder road east. The Company E MP Station was on the south side of Tikhonravov colony, so it took some 20 minutes to weave through town. Orsini took it up to 100 as soon as the outer streets of Tikhonravov were passed. Alvarez and I read through the material the Lieutenant provided. We tried to use the GPS coordinates to pull up a map of the farm, but the maps for Tikh were crap and neither Alvarez nor I could get anything of use. Sitting in the copilot seat, I punched in the coordinates so we would have some clue when we got there.
The Martian Ranger Company E Lounge was a bit busy with most of the day shift squads and support squads represented. Privates Riley Jo Diakite and Chad Brown proceeded directly to the auto-bar. Diakite got her debit card into the machine first, and snagged a bottle of Schiaparelli Gold pilsner and held the door open for Brown. He selected an Indus Red, quickly twisted off the cap and drank deeply.
“Come on, Brown! Move!”, said a Ranger behind him.
Diakite responded, “Come on, get of Clarke’s way – others are thirsty too.” She pulled Brown off to the side and they turned around, backs and elbows on the bar. They assessed the room while drinking their beers.
“Hey, there’s Bennet in the corner.” Brown pointed with his bottle at their squad leader, half hidden in a booth against the far wall. “Let’s join him”.
Diakite looked thoughtful, and said “Hmm, I don’t think so. Look at him. He’s not gulping down his beer and not joking with anyone like usual. I don’t think he wants company right now.”
Brown looked more closely, and noticed that their Senior Corporal Neville Bennett was just staring at the tabletop, occasionally sipping from his beer. Strangely, he did have two small empty glasses on the table. He muttered, “I guess so.”
They drank their beers quickly, upholding their reputation as having learned from Bennett, the Company’s reputed best guzzler. Brown got the second round while Diakite sauntered over to a table with three Rangers. They enthusiastically invited the pair to join them. A moment after Brown brought new bottles, Captain Édouard de Carré came into the Lounge. He waved down the few rookies who started to stand with his right hand; his left was occupied by a fifth of some whiskey. The CO headed across the Lounge toward Bennett, but in a roundabout way. He greeted several Rangers by name, asking about their children, or some minor life crisis.
The Captain finally reached Bennett’s booth and set the bottle down before sliding in opposite the Corporal. Bennett opened the bottle and poured two very stiff drinks. The two men saluted each other then downed the drinks. The Captain poured them both another and they repeated the little ceremony. De Carré stood up, clapped Bennett on the shoulder and left. Neither had spoken a word.
Diakite and Brown looked at each other, and told the three they were with they would meet at dinner. The two Rangers got up and sauntered over to Bennett’s booth.
“Can we join you, Corporal?”, asked Diakite, all militarily correct. Bennett just waved them into the booth. “Are you all right?”
“Chad, go get a couple of glasses,” ordered Bennett listlessly, in his gravelly bass voice. “I’d better not drink this whole bottle by myself. And I’m good – it’s just 14 June.”
After Brown got back, Bennett poured drinks for all of them. “Cheers.”
Ever the nosy one, Brown queried “What was all about? With the Cap’n, I mean.”
“Just something we do on 14 June,” came the response. Bennett kept looking into his empty glass, then filled their glasses again. Even for him, this was drinking a lot quite rapidly.
Before picking up her drink, Diakite quietly spoke “What’s so special about the 14th, Neville?”
Bennett paused a moment, then downed his drink before replying. “Worst case of my career.” He seemed reluctant to talk. Then he continued, “It was seven years ago. A wellness check that went bad.”
Brown spoke lightly, “Don’t tell me you had a gunfight.” He chuckled.
Bennett glared at him for a moment as Diakite said bitingly “Chad, shut up, man!”.
Bennett started speaking, “Like I said, it was seven years ago. The Captain was the Company First Lieutenant then; been here only a couple of months. I had my first squad, two good men. Rafael Orsini and Julio Alvarez.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was called to the Officer of the Day’s office at 08:20. Since routine comms were reviewed and sorted starting 20 minutes earlier, I knew it was a mission. I was hoping it was an out-of-towner; I had not led one since becoming a squad leader.
Lieutenant de Carré waved me in before I could knock. “I have a mission for you, Corporal Bennett. Two, possibly, depending on the first. I’m not hopeful.”
“Yessir. Thank you, sir,” I replied trying to suppress my excitement.
“Don’t thank me yet, Corporal. First is a wellness check at a farm 100 klicks north on the Cassini Road. Sister of the farmer has been trying to contact him for two days. It’s been four since she last talked with him and his family. Wife and two children. You know what to do if it turns bad, yes?”
“Call in forensics and start an investigation, Lieutenant.”
“Justement. I fully expect it will turn bad, Corporal. It has been too long. I am getting a forensics team ready on stand-by. Now, if it does resolve nicely, then proceed to the station in Cassini. They have a prisoner ready for transport to Schiaparelli Prison. Sergeant Wu is readying a van for your squad.”
“Yessir, wellness check, call forensics if needed then pickup a prisoner in Cassini,” I summarized his instructions.
He handed me a thumb drive, saying “This has the original request and everything Company A could find out about the farm. Carry on.”
I took the drive with my left hand and stepping back, gave a quick salute. As I walked out, I drew out my PDA and paused in the outer office to alert my team. Then, I hustled to don my leathers and grab my go-bag.
Ten minutes later, the squad – Junior Corporal Orsini and Leading Private Alvarez - met me at the Company garage. I looked them over, making sure they had on camouflaged leather suits. “Listen up! First thing is a wellness check 100 kilometers north. We’ve got a van getting ready, so let’s go,” I snapped the words out.
I saw Sergeant Wu looking at a tablet, checking things off, so I figured the van by him was ours and headed over.
Following along, Orsini began talking, in his nasally baritone voice.
“I’m looking forward to this. Been wanting to run one of those new vans up to its limits.”
Alvarez asked, “How are the new ones different, Rafael?”
Orsini said “It’s half a meter skinnier but over a meter longer: two and a half by seven and a half. Same height, though, but better batteries and motors. They say it can hit 150 on rough terrain.”
“Wow, nice!,” said Alvarez.
I interrupted, “Orsini, you ain’t no goddamn race driver and the Cassini Road ain’t no fricking race course! Stick to procedure – 100 kph max.”
“Neville, come on, man. Let me run ‘er out.”
I just glared at him, and almost ran into Sergeant Wu. Damn it, way to look sharp, boy! Being ten centimeters taller and twenty kilos heavier, Wu just reached his hand out and stopped me. Then gently patted my shoulder, thrusting the tablet in his other hand at me.
“This is yours, Bennett. Fully charged, two weeks rations and weapons on board. Sign here.”
“Thanks, Huang. I’ll bring it back in one piece – promise.”
He grinned as he replied, in a fake sotto voce, “Not if you let Orsini drive.”
Already inside, Orsini leaned out and flicked his fingers off his chin. Wu laughed and walked off to other duties.
I climbed in and closed the hatch. “All right, Rafael, you can drive, but keep it under 100. Let’s get moving.”
Orsini took the driver’s seat and carefully pulled into the garage’s airlock. Alvarez used the remote console, and got the airlock cycling. When it was open, Orsini pulled out at a sedate 25 kph, then sped up to 45 as the van hit the first feeder road east. The Company E MP Station was on the south side of Tikhonravov colony, so it took some 20 minutes to weave through town. Orsini took it up to 100 as soon as the outer streets of Tikhonravov were passed. Alvarez and I read through the material the Lieutenant provided. We tried to use the GPS coordinates to pull up a map of the farm, but the maps for Tikh were crap and neither Alvarez nor I could get anything of use. Sitting in the copilot seat, I punched in the coordinates so we would have some clue when we got there.
