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Snippet #2770100

located in Triton Station, a part of Echo Company: Ender's Legacy, one of the many universes on RPG.

Triton Station

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"Morning," Jack said to Desmond as he sat down and began to talk feverishly. Despite his usually detached appearance and quiet nature, he did sometimes enjoy listening to other people talk, and every now and then Desmond could be amusing. Sure, he was a little on the immature side, but he still had a while before he needed to really grow up. It was almost comforting to see the childlike characteristics Desmond possessed surviving like they are, because it reminded Jack of the humanity that the military lifestyle attempted to remove from the individual. It reminded him, in a way, that individuality still existed, and that was nice. All too often cadets fall into a robotic toolbag type state, and from what Jack could tell Desmond need not worry about sharing that same fate. Jack was about to actually attempt a conversation with him before he burped, in which case Jack changed his mind and looked back at his food. Desmond was enjoying his food well enough, obviously, but Jack just sort of picked at it. He didn't each much. It still didn't sit well that they were putting stuff in it without telling them. He would eat enough to get by, and that was it.

The coffee was a happy reprieve from the world though, that was for sure. It may not be heaven's brew, but it tasted delicious enough and, if not, luckily it would burn your tongue and you wouldn't have to worry about tasting it anyway. Breakfast was, for the most part, uninteresting. There really wasn't anything to talk about that hasn't already been talked about time and time again. "What are you doing today?" "I'm gonna fly" "That's cool. I've got chemistry" or whatever, it really did get old, and after so many years there already Jack was more or less finished with those conversations unless it actually meant something to him. There was a difference between talking to talk and talking just to fill space, and most of the cadets fell into the latter category. It was an unfortunate fact of life, and it wasn't even their fault. It was just that they were attached to a continuous existence in which nothing was actually in their control. At least, until the games roll around. Then there would be new conversation, for sure.

Just as Jack was drifting away into some thought or another, something caught his attention a few tables away. There was a loud crash, and a plebe was all of a sudden on his way over in a bit of a hurry. Jack smiled. There was something humorous about company on company disputes. Patrick found his way to the table and sat down, greeting the guys already at the table as he did so. From the looks of the uniforms, the guys giving him trouble were Deltas. Fuck Deltas. This kid had some spirit about it that was admirable in a sense. Don't completely accept defeat. Sure, he didn't get the table, but they didn't either, at least without having to set it back up. The kid the best he could with the little he had, and Jack gave him definite kudos. Plebes, they did a lot of a company. And while none of them were in strong positions, they did have jobs to do, even if it just meant following orders. Something about Patrick gave Jack assurance that he could be trusted to get a job done should the need arise.

Lucy, a girl, as if it made a difference, sat down with them and greeted everyone with a simple good morning. Jack looked at her for a few moments, maybe longer than he should have, before just nodding in reply. She was a girl. She wasn't the same as them. Yet...she was. Jack had memories from home, from Earth, and those memories did not have males and females treating them like this, as complete equals, as if there was nothing different. But at the same time that was so long ago that he could hardly remember just how they were treated. Sure, he understood reproduction. He had taken biology classes there on Triton, and he understood the biological differences between himself and Lucy, for instance. What he didn't understand was the missing thing, something he had never really felt before, and therefore could not even describe. He didn't know what it was, but he knew he didn't have it.

That was one of Triton's biggest downfalls. The cadets only knew cadet life. They were separated from the world, and in a way that kept them from ever really knowing what it was they were fighting for. Earth, to them, was more of a myth than an actual location. Loyalty to Earth was hammered into their minds day in and day out when, in actuality, no cadet was positive exactly what Earth was anymore. It was a rumor, a torn message in the wind, and the only understanding of it they had was from memories from their youth they could hardly piece together anymore. Sure. There were visits to Earth. It's not like cadets are forever cut off from their families. But visits are short, days at the most, hardly enough to gain an understanding of the culture they would one day be commissioned to protect. The last time Jack had been on Earth, at least actually around people, was for a presentation. A select group of cadets were chosen as a publicity stunt to show civilians of Earth that Triton wasn't such a bad place at all, a good move considering among many parents, due to the very infrequent opportunities to visit with their children, there was a misunderstood, negative view of what Triton station actually was and did. That was about two years ago, by his count. Sure, he had been down to Earth multiple times since, but every time he had gone to the woods or desert or mountains for some sort of field training, or to accomplish some sort of physical feat like climbing a mountain. Hell, for the hardcore infantry types, crossing a desert or climbing a mountain was considered field training. The pilots get their ships and their space, the Mobile Infantry get their exceedingly dangerous environments. Fair enough.

"So," Jack said to everyone at his table, "How's everyone doing today?"

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