UCS Main Fleet

The barracks in the troopship of 1st Platoon, A Company, 12th Army Ranger Battalion, 2nd Army, was rather cramped. But Andi Campeti didn't mind a bit. He'd sleep on the titanium floor if he had to, or if a trooper of his platoon needed a cot. The barracks, or 'groundforce quarters' as the so-called 'sailors' called it, was large enough to quarter Andi and his platoon to sleep in and maybe play card games.

Summoning the time into his vision with a thought via the permanent contact lenses he wore, Andi saw that it would just be another hour until go-time. He, of course, was already prepared. But his troops weren't; many were sleeping. So . . .

"T-minus 60 minutes until go-time!" he roared, a 'tender' command to get up. The platoon, as he'd drilled it, was up and about in seconds, hastily shaving or dressing or throwing on equipment. Or all at once. When they were all ready, which took about a minute, they lined up beween the bunk rows by squads, all four of them.

"Alright, boys," Andi began, "you all know the plan, but I'm gonna go over it again anyway in case you maybe forgot something." He shot a friendly glance at Sergeant Ray Simon, who had the memory of a goldfish. "We'll be inserting about an hour or and hour-and-a-half before the rest of the assault force in order to wreak as much havoc as possible in the Lunar Corp.'s base. Taking out solar panels, fuel stations, commo towers. Anything they'll find useful during the actual invasion, whether it be the latrine or their damned CEO, not that there's a difference." That produced a laugh.

"Now, let's move out!" Andi yelled, still smiling, as he led the way to the HOIP (High-Orbital Insertion Pod) Bay.