When the newly formed united Dwarf kingdom forbade mining operations on the homeworld, the first asteroid mined was named Obsidian Rock. Obsidian Rock was chosen because it is one of the largest asteroids in the belt. After a few years a permanent base was built which is now called Camp Obsidian. Camp Obsidian is the headquarters for the joint task force - obsidian, while Camp Derrick is the training ground and barracks for the draft army.
The first expedition to Obsidian Rock wasn't considered a "military operation." It was composed of mostly rich explorers seeking fame, brave scientists looking for knowledge and experienced miners searching for riches. Only half of the expedition survived the trip. They weren't fully prepared when they encountered the arachnids who were immediately hostile and killed half of the expedition.
After the first expedition the whole operation became a mostly "military operation."
Eventually Obsidian Rock was heavily mined and the valuable ores were exhausted and the mission adapted to mining asteroids throughout the belt. Despite there not being any active mines on Obsidian Rock it continues to be the main base of operations for the entire belt.
There are many outposts throughout the belt but none of them are manned continuously. They are only used when they're active mining operations happening in their area of operations. Besides Obsidian Rock, the only other base that is always manned is Camp Alabaster. Camp Alabaster is the location of joint task force - alabaster. Alabaster is an alternate base of operations and a contingency headquarters. It's not as luxurious as Camp Obsidian, but it's where the command tends to send their most ready and elite elements.
The bulk of the combat mining element are the draftees. The 300 dwarves that serve for 300 years. After serving their draft enlistment some stay as support staff or become members of the regular combat mining company. The regular combat mining company is 100 dwarves. Twenty-five of which are members of a select elite platoon that act as a quick reaction force, deep space reconnaissance, search and rescue, and special mining operations.
Officially they are named Derrick's Elite Few.
You'll never find that name on any unit flag, crest or plaque. Or, for that matter on the mouths of anyone in the belt. Members of the unit hate that name and they refer to themselves as The Cobalt Force.
The name gets its origins from their motto For Gold and the Bold. Which after a few drinks gets truncated to Gol'Bold. After a few more drinks the best they can get out is Co'bald. When they are really hammered and angry it just sounds like Kobold. For the uninitiated, hearing the word Kobold screamed by angry drunk combat miners just sounds like they are really excited about mining for cobalt.
Since cobalt is primarily used in making batteries, the uninitiated just think they are angry that their handheld computers have lost power. After some afterthought, not so oddly there are always continuous donations of batteries from unknown sources to their barracks. Batteries are the one thing they are always in oversupply at The Cobalt Force.
The three companies of draftees, and one company of regular forces together make up the 1st Marine Battalion. The second, third and fourth marine battalions are comprised of active reservists who regularly train on the home planet and once a year go on short mining operations. Altogether the four battalions make up 1st Marine Expeditionary Corps.
Since Derrick's kingdom doesn't have any rivals except for the arachnids there isn't any reason to possess a large military force. The arachnids are thought of as mostly a pest and not a real threat.
Oddly enough there are additional corps. The second through tenth corps are strategic reserve corps. They only exist because after long debate by several eccentric scientists, several of which were mathematicians, they discussed their feelings of dread about, the probability of the improbable. The probability of the improbable was a theory of the existence of aliens capable of crossing the void.
All dwarves accepted that in the infinite they weren't alone. The matter at issue is whether another advanced society could transit the space between solar systems or even galaxies. The old school of thought was that it was mathematically highly improbable that anyone could or would attempt the journey.
As all things do, they change. The new school of thought was explained to parliament, much to the discontent of older academics. The younger mathematicians explained that, as deep time goes by it increasingly was more probable that the improbable would happen. With the prospect of living forever coming into the collective consciousness, the ability of ignoring this issue as a problem for future generations of dwarfs, became a problem for this generation of dwarfs.
With everlasting life, those with power would have to deal with this said improbability.
Once the whole of society became accepting of the idea that their life was an everlasting life, there became a movement known as The Inevitability of the Improbable Movement.
Ministers that supported the inevitably of the improbable wanted all of society to be trained for what they referred to as the interception with destiny of the improbable. The interception with destiny of the improbable was a hostile invasion of the homeworld by an alien race. These unlikely but seemingly inevitable aliens became known as, The Improbables.
The best that could be agreed upon was nine strategic reserve corps, to defend the homeworld. The strategic corps only requirement was that every one hundred years they would be required to muster for one day. During muster they had to receive at their own pace computer based training, and have their carbines certified as operational.
Their carbines were built to last forever so it was mostly done to prove that they didn't smelt down their carbines for raw materials.
They are also required to sing the strategic corps song before they can go home. The song goes something like this:
The Strategic Reserve Corps Song!
March along, sing our song,
With the homeworld in our heart
For our mines, for the belt,
From Obsidian Rock to Camp Alabaster's gate,
We stand ready for the fight, to survive our inevitable fate.
From the depths of the homeworld,
To the stars that we will explore.
We stand guard, keep our word,
For the future that we will ensure.
For when the improbables come, we’ll be ready for the call,
With our carbines in hand, we will face them all.
As the years pass by,
On the homeworld, we'll keep our watch.
Every hundred, we muster,
To ensure we’re ready and not just a bunch of rotten mustard.
For Derrick's kingdom, we prepare, with courage, we will never fail,
For destiny's call, we will prevail.
Eternally with Derrick's name we stand, through the void and the dark,
For the inevitable improbable day, when destiny we meet,
We are ready, steadfast, and unlikely to face defeat.
Then it's ho-ho-hey, the strategic reserves is on their way,
Shout out our orders loud and strong.
Wherever we go, you will always know,
That the strategic corps keeps rolling along.
They usually have to sing it about four times until they remember all the words and sing it confidently enough that the corps commanders lets them go for the day.
The Kobalt Force sings a very funny parody of the strategic reserves song which mentions having to shout the orders because they're all old and deaf and the reason the strategic corps keeps rolling along is because they are all shaped like balloons since they aren't required to stay fit.
1st Reconnaissance Squad of 1st Light Marine Platoon of 2nd Draftees Marine Company of 1st Marine Battalion was Barnaby's and Fry's unit. They were hopping from forward operating base to forward operating base on their way to Camp Alabaster where they were going to receive training from the 1st Regular Marines Company.
It was a very long journey to Alabaster from Obsidian Rock, which was the reason why it existed as an alternate permanent base of operation. As the homeworld spins around the sun it enters and exits through different points of the belt. During these periods is when ore is moved to the homeworld on extremely large ships.
Two bases, two windows of opportunity.
Our smaller ships are able to make the transit to the homeworld's apoapsis point (the farthest point from the object it orbits). It can be a very long journey, but does happen on occasion, but not very often. Unfortunately, the cargo hauling rockets are too massive to accelerate and decelerate safely to make the journey.
At every forward operating base they make repairs to the facility and perform reconnaissance. The draftees are still considered to be in training, but far long enough that their training missions are real missions, but just with some oversight.
Searching for arachnids on these abandoned bases isn't a particularly tough mission for the draftees. Anywhere Dwarfs go means the systematic eradication of spiders.
No matter how many times they try to kill them all, some remain. The ones that do remain are usually spiderlings, younglings and adolescent spiders. While adolescent spiders are large, they are in no way close to a full size adult spider. They are also less aggressive and more sporadic which means they are less effective and easier to fight.
Fry and Barnaby were in the back of the transport rocket trying to stay comfortable.
"Barn, you think we're alone in the universe?" asked Fry.
"Are you talking about other intelligent life in the universe?" Barnaby followed up with his own question.
"Yeah, the improbables!" said Fry.
Barnaby sighed with derision, "I hate that name."
"Why, it's a great name!"
"It doesn't make any sense. The reference to an "improbable" in the theory is that an alien species could move between solar systems. The "improbable" issue is transit, not aliens. Calling them improbable doesn't even sound scary, it's like being worried about a thing that doesn't exist. It would make more sense to call them "the inevitables.""
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
"Yeah, but the inevitables sounds sad and isn't cool. The improbables is more mysterious," said Fry as he waved his hands in the air.
Barnaby stared at Fry expecting more. Fry contemplated for a moment.
"But you're getting off track. Do you believe it or not? That was my original question," said Fry.
"Fry. Everyone believes. It's an accepted fact."
"I'm not sure if I believe it. I think we're alone in the universe. Our existence is special."
"You? Don't. Believe," said Barnaby fully perplexed.
Fry grinned in the kind of undeniable smugness that gets people punched in the face. Barnaby wondered if his brother had joined some kind of weird cult. The kind of cult where its members lather each other up in spider goop and chant to the universal wisdom of the infinite void. The source of their inner revelation comes from deep cave mushrooms from the septic caves.
"How did I do?" asked Fry.
"How did you? Do what?" Barnaby was now more confused than ever.
"I'm working on a new character. It's a show about how a lone scientist believes that there aren't any aliens in the universe. He's derided as insane by all the other scientists, for suggesting to the legislature that they should stop wasting gold on an anti-invasion force and defense research. As a member of a research group that searches the known universe after 5 million years of exploring the entire galaxy without finding intelligent life he's accepted as a visionary," said Fry excited at the prospect of a new role.
"How does it end," said Barnaby.
"Oh. The government stops spending 4 percent of its GDP on the defense industry and disbands the military," said Fry.
"Four percent, huh?" said Barnaby.
"Yeah and the military," smiled Fry.
"Wouldn't it be a better show if it was the opposite?" suggested Barnaby.
"Opposite? Like, instead of one guy, all the scientists are suggesting we are alone?" said Fry.
"No. No. Like all the scientists say we are alone in the universe and one scientist believes we aren't. The kingdom is totally unprepared for an alien invasion and after a few years on the show the lone scientist is vindicated for his efforts. There's a massive invasion. The government brings him in as an expert to help them stop the improbables and he single handedly comes up with the brilliant plan to stop them," said Barnaby.
"Wow! Barnaby. Brilliant! That's just so original! I don't know why we haven't thought of that before," said Fry as he makes a note in his tablet computer.
"You're welcome. Just hearing your idea it just sparked into my head. Like, immediately! I thought this would be more climatic. Epic!" Barnaby paused for a moment since Fry looked annoyed.
"I mean, I like your idea, but it just feels like the story would drag out where nothing is really happening and the 'ah-hah' moment would be so anticlimactic. That and since the universe is infinite they can't really know that the scientist was truly right, it was really just an acceptance out of boredom," said Barnaby excited about coming up with his own hit TV show.
"You're definitely right," said Fry.
Worried that he just hurt his brother's feelings Barnaby said, "You just came up with this idea recently right? You probably would have come to this conclusion after some time."
"No. We've been working on the idea for the past six months with the whole writers team. We've been holding the meetings over video. We were just about to start bringing in the production team," said Fry, slightly hurt.
"Oh wow! Your whole writers team didn't see it," said Barnaby.
"Yeah, man. Hey, could you do me a favor? Don't tell anyone about this. I got to bring my team in secretly on this. This is the kind of story dad would steal from me and take over as the main character," said Fry.
"Sure, bro."
"The only thing that's not going to work is since it's a scientific fact that the improbables exist. How would the story work? Wouldn't that be confusing?" said Fry, trying to work out the logistics in his head.
"Just make it an alternate reality or a fantasy world where nobody believes. Just a world full of morons," said Barnaby.
"A whole world of morons! Oh Derrick. That's great," Fry chuckled as he wrote this all down on his tablet.
The rockets fired and the ship slowed, immediately landing on the launch pad with an audible thud. The intercom came on, "another survivable landing! Welcome to DMA-2365."
The launchpad itself was underground and above it were giant bay doors. With the ship firmly in place the bay doors began to close. After a few minutes there was a cha-chu sound of the doors colliding and sealing. Then giant fans turned on that began to push air inside the bay area.
The ship's cargo bay door opened and a member of the cobalt force stepped in. His uniform was dirty and his boots were covered in mud. Which was odd, it was highly unlikely that an asteroid had any water on it, which happens to be the main ingredient in mud. His gear and uniform were distinctively different than theirs.
"Cobalt Force's uniform is so cool," Fry whispered to Barnaby.
"I assume you two are 1st recon squad? I'm Master Sergeant Clive. I've got a mission for your team."
"How did you know we were in the recon squad?" asked Fry. He paused for a moment and followed up with, "it must be because we look like cobalt material."
Clive grinned, "you always put the most expendable soldiers in the recon squad."
"What makes you think we're expendable?" said a slightly emotionally hurt Barnaby.
"You two are the princes they forcibly drafted into service are you not?" said Clive now annoyed that his precious time was being wasted.
"We are," said Fry.
"Sounds like recon material to me," said Clive.
"What's that supposed to mean?" said Barnaby.
"It's really a political statement about the state of our monarchy. Which you two fucks are the least useful of the whole lot," said Clive.
Clive was about to chew them up some more but then Dorn opened the hatch and walked into the room.
"My friend Clive!" said Dorn, utterly surprised at seeing Clive again.
"Ah. Well isn't it the kings fucking amazing publicists, lord Dorn. Gnome, extraordinaire. What are you doing with this lot of arachnid fodder?" said Clive.
"I'm the royal family's publicist," said Dorn with a particularly straight face and happy smile.
Everyone stood there for a moment expecting more, but more never came.
"You're a real bright one aren't you," said Clive.
"Intelligence is a requirement for such a profession," said Dorn.
The air was figuratively sucked out of the room. The awkwardness was killing Fry from the inside. Mostly because that was his thing.
"Dorn, he wanted to know why you, the royal family publicist, was here on DMA-2365," said Fry.
"Yes, I gathered that. Which is why I corrected him. I'm not the Kings publicist, I'm the royal families publicist. After correcting him I was expecting an apology for the error, and then after, I would further explain myself," said Dorn.
"I'm sorry?" questioned Clive.
Dorn was always too distracted to pick up something like a tone or inflection which might have signaled Clive was in fact not sorry but particularly angry and confused why he would be apologizing.
"Yes. Yes. Well as the royal families publicist I'm here to document the life of these two fine members, for a reality TV show. You must have been watching it, have you not?" said Dorn.
"I don't really watch television," said Dorn.
"Oh. I guess you have that in common with Barnaby. He hasn't seen a single episode yet!" said Dorn, he paused for a moment. "Really shameful being a main character on the show."
"I'd like to point out that I'm against the show entirely and refuse to participate in any way," said Barnaby.
Dorn laughed, "Prince you have no choice but be yourself as we record you. Which is what I was trying to say Clive. For the past couple years we've been airing a very popular show that follows the life of the twin princes as they turned from naive royalty to recruits and then into seasoned soldiers," said Dorn.
"I'm not sure if I agree with that," said Clive.
"Agree with what? My friend Clive," asked Dorn.
"Seasoned soldiers?" laughed Clive. "They haven't completed their basic training and haven't fought anything other than helpless baby spider fodder."
"Well for those back home, the show has definitely portrayed life or death situations. The basis of the show is a constant struggle to survive. With very important character development," said Dorn.
"As some might not know, the only thing that matters is not how the world is, but how it's perceived," said Barnaby, as he repulsed in disgust.
In the middle of their argument Frackleberry walked in with a camera and a boom mic. Clive's eyes widened and his eyebrows perked.
Barnaby, Fry and Dorn continued their conversation with Clive, but he stopped listening and just watched Frackleberry intently.
In the middle of Dorn's sentence Clive interrupted, "and whom might you be, love?"
"I'm Frackleberry, public affairs officer for the kingdom," she said as the boom mic flailed about.
In that moment time slowed down for Clive and as the boom mic flailed, so did Frackleberry's beautiful hair. He was enchanted. While many of the draftees were women, very few volunteered for the Cobalt Force. It had been a very long time since he'd seen such a beautiful dwarf female.
"Well love, shouldn't you be back running the government news channel or something?" said Clive trying to be and sound as charming as possible. "I'm sure they have much lower dwarfs on the totem pole than you that could be doing all this grunt work."
"I normally have quite a large team back at the studio to do this, but this project requires a certain high level of discretion in story telling about the rise of the next king," said Frackleberry.
"The what!" screamed Barnaby and Fry simultaneously in shock.
"What are you surprised about? I thought you two understood this was about convincing the world that Fry is ready to be the next king," said Frackleberry.
"I'm one of the most famous dwarf's of all time. I'm in every living room on the planet on multiple shows at the same time, what more about me do the people need to know?" said Fry in shock and anger.
"Fry darling, those are fictitious characters. That and most of your shows are seedy dramas for old horny ladies. Doctor Gooseberry, who is sleeping with all the nurses and some of his own patients. Detective Slider McGhee who investigates the murder of husbands of pretty dwarf widows. Slider Mcghee, who always figures out and arrests the perpetrator with enough time to sleep with the grief-stricken widow the night of the funeral, usually in the limousine following the ceremony!" says Frackleberry ecstatically as she tries to keep herself from laughing.
"I think, I see your point," said Fry.
"People need to see you in a role that they fully believe is reality where they feel confident that you will take over the government," said Frackleberry.
"Why is dad abdicating? He could be king forever?" said Barnaby.
"I think he's bored," said Frackleberry.
Clive snapped back to reality. How did he get sucked into all this work-time drama
"Well this is all great and all, but I had a fucking mission to brief you. I don't want you ladies getting me sidetracked with all this, whose going to be the imaginary leader of the fucking universe bullshit. I will not be going down any soap opera show, drama, spider holes. Do you hear me draftees?" said Clive.
All the Marines in the room came to attention, "Yes, sergeant!"
"Now get outside to the operations room and I'm going to brief you on the mission," said Clive.
Barnaby, Fry and the other members of their squad left the rocket.
"Now you love, I will be seeing you later. Maybe you and I could have a go at it?" said Clive.
Frackleberry touched her hair and bit down on her lip, "I'd like that."
Clive grinned and walked away.
At the operations room 1st recon squad was waiting for its orders. Clive walked in with a swagger of a rough experienced ruthless veteran marine.
"Alright, I'm putting together a team and you're on it. We need to confirm whether there is a full grown adult arachnid on this rock," said Clive.
Dorn nervously interrupted Clive, "a grown adult! Isn't that incredibly dangerous and highly unlikely?"
"It is dangerous. Which is why we need to confirm its existence. A full grown adult shouldn't exist on a rock we've already been on. How often we routinely stop by, it's astronomically unlikely for them to reach maturity," said Clive.
"But," said Frackleberry.
"What? Darlin," said Clive.
"I was expecting a 'but' in there, a reason why you think one exists," said Frackleberry.
"But… we found some damage to the facility that was unlikely done by a juvenile arachnid," said Clive. He paused and took a deep breath, "and, one of the things destroyed were the security system cameras," said Clive.
"How many," asked Barnaby.
"All of them. There isn't anything on the footage either before they went out. Whatever this is, it was smart enough to know what the camera was and destroy it without revealing itself."
Fry got a chill down his spine. He was worried about his brother and looked over at him to see how he was doing.
Barnaby looked thrilled. Fry couldn't believe it. It was like Barnaby was excited by this news. He was almost crawling out of his skin with energy and determined anxiety.
"When do we go?" asked Barnaby.
"Well my expendables, we go now," said Clive, smiling devilishly.