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The transit bus swept down to the terminal in the precise, measured movements of AI controlled transports, leaving behind a young woman of average height and build with just below shoulder length strawberry blonde hair and green/brown hazel eyes. She gave her surroundings a wide-eyed sweeping look as she shouldered a large military style duffel and a medical bag that was nearly half the size of the duffel. The planet's gravity was a little weaker than her own, so she briefly reveled in the sensation that the weight wasn't going to bother her any.

After taking in her surroundings, she sighted her goal and smiled before setting off with a spring in her step that even the heavy bags couldn't dampen. Her course took her to a sprawling complex attached to a remote part of the primary Shuttle Port of Proxima Centauri, where she had just taken the transit bus from. As she came to the main entrance she looked up at the Emblem of a red cross and twin red stars superimposed on a stylized gold bordered white planet on a field of blue. She took a deep breath before setting herself and joining the active but sparse stream of people entering the complex.

The lobby was large, with two half-full waiting areas on the wings and four doors on the far side behind a wide, multiple station reception desk. Various broadcast terminals showed the news and efforts of the group that called this complex home, as well as messages from its leading officers and original founders. At first glance it appeared to be a grand affair, with a tiled mosaic of the same logo on the floor and an overhead skylight with decorative hanging lights and recessed back-lighting along the walls where the crown molding would be. But a closer look revealed these things to be simple and utilitarian in make, likely either made by hand and donated or created by some member of the group with some spare time. The Mosaic was made from painted and dyed stones, the decorative lighting from simple pieces of burnished stainless steel hung from thin chains, and the recessed lighting looked to be old LED's in casings mounted to the walls, puttied and painted the same calming gray-blue color of everything else.

"Appropriate for one of the largest aid organizations in Human space." she thought, "Presentable and Grand to the layperson. Yet comparatively cheap, easily maintained and not pretentious. A good first impression for many."

Done with her sightseeing, she joined the line of people waiting to speak with a receptionist, listening to the news broadcasts while she waited. There wasn't anything that tweaked her attention as being an immediate call for help, but there were some problems with severe drought, weather damage, flooding and uncontrolled fires on various planets and lunar bodies. None of them seemed in her estimation to be something beyond what the local authorities could handle, and hadn't already done so time and again before.

"Huh. Looks like I'll get to have a nice, quiet transition period."

The man in front of her turned around, "Pardon?"

"Oh! Sorry, I was just talking to myself. Bad habit I'm afraid." She recoiled slightly and held her hands up in a vain attempt to deflect his attention, which had surprised her and drew her native accent out from beneath her usual control, her words gaining a lilting cadence as her vowels drew out slightly.

The man smiled and tilted his head, "Not from Proxima... Is that a... Calistan accent? Joining up are you?"

She blinked in surprise, her accent still in place as she responded, "I... yeah. I'm genuinely surprised that you knew that... and yes, I'm joining. Actually, I already have, just need to get checked in. How did you know about Calisto? Not many people have a reason to go out there."

"Ah, I serve on a trade ship, Calisto is on one of our routes. A beautiful planet, lakes, rivers, mountains and alpine forests everywhere you look. I am glad you all found a legal way to keep the off-world leeches from building all their damn resorts on the planet. Granted, it would bring in a lot of money and make you a heck of an attraction, for sure. But you would have lost so much in comparison. Classifying most of it as a type of nature preserve under local control and guidance was smart."

"Hehe, thank you, I'm glad you are able to appreciate her as we do. But that was all done well before me. Now it is just... Small town central. I love it, but I wanted to see more."

"Completely understandable, that's why I started working on traders myself. But, this would be a good group for you to do it with, too. They... Ah, it is my turn. Good luck to you."

"And you too, sir!" She waved at him as he went to take his turn at the desk, and she was promptly called over to the other end of the desk herself.

The woman behind the desk looked to be in her mid-thirties and wore a fitted, semi-dress black shirt with the group's logo on the breast, an embroidered name tag that said "S. Blackwell" and black slacks. She was also clearly of the bubbly personality type. "Good Morning Hon! Welcome to the Home of the Centauri Hospitallers! What can we do for you today?"

Despite her nerves, she couldn't help but smile at the woman as she replied, handed over her charge papers and brought up her ID on her wrist-link, her accent fully under control again, "Hi! My name is Claire Fontaine. I signed on right out of medical school, I am supposed to integrate with the Third Lance?"

"OH! Well, welcome aboard Miss Fontaine, and thank you for volunteering! My name is Sierra. Give me just a moment to call back and get you an escort, then I will start filing this while we wait." Sierra went over the paperwork to make sure everything required was present and verified Claire's ID. Then she made a very brief phone call and smiled at Claire again.

"Perfect, Damien will be out to get you shortly. He is the head of Third Lance's medical department, so you will be reporting directly to him anyway." She turned to her terminal and began to fill in Claire's commitment paperwork. "Now, you said that you just got out of medical school? Where did you do that at?"

"I went to school back home on Calisto. The university there has some pretty good medical courses. Well, most of it was geared to veterinary and exo-vet studies, which I also took a few classes in. But the human medical classes were solid too. There's a lot of need for it with the local mining and forestry industries. Serious accidents aren't that unheard of, nor are clashes with local wildlife."

"Oh, that sounds like it could be quite bad. Have you ever had to deal with any of that?"

"A couple of times. We assisted at the local Hospitals as a part of our learning program once we were experienced enough to be considered CNA's. It... yeah it got bad. Heavy machinery and angry wildlife don't really know the meaning of mercy."

Sierra shook herself at the imagined imagery, "Well, I am glad I don't have to deal with any of that myself. What made you want to join us?"

"I just wanted to see things while I could, before I got too tied down. I thought that if I could get the job experience while doing some traveling and seeing what else is out there... well, who knows what might happen. Don't get me wrong, I love my home planet, but I may only get this one chance, you know?"

The receptionist smiled and nodded, "Yes I do. There are a lot of people just like you with us. Hmm... I suppose I should ask now rather than leave it for a surprise later. How do you feel about the military?"

Claire thought about the question for a bit, trying to parse out why she had asked more than to find an answer. "No particular feelings. They have a hard job, not for me though."

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Sierra relaxed a little after hearing her answer, "OK, good. A lot of people don't realize that those who get out of the military try to find jobs where they can do more for people than they could while serving. Many of them find their way to us and other similar organizations. We have former combat engineers, medics, officers, biotech, mechanics and more in our ranks. They seem to enjoy the structure as much as they do the work. We also sometimes work closely with the military to help people in need during disasters and the like. This can sometimes create friction and problems with the more... Idealistic volunteers. Some people come to us without ever experiencing the need for someone to stand ready with violence and despise anyone who finds themselves capable of doing so even if their job has nothing to do with fighting."

She smiled at Claire again, "But that isn't a concern you should worry about. Third Lance is a pretty tight knit group, and Damien was himself a former Combat Medic before becoming a doctor. You will be in good hands."

Claire smiled back, "That is good to hear." Privately, she was relieved that she would be under the wings of people with some practical experience. She didn't fully feel comfortable with her own medical experience and had been worrying about what might happen if she was forced to rely on only herself too soon.

They continued to make pleasant small talk while Sierra filled out her paperwork. A few minutes later and a large, fit, dark skinned man in an identical, but tighter uniform with the name tag of "D. Winters" and a look and demeanor that practically screamed "MARINE" came out of one of the doors behind the desk and approached them.

Claire looked up as he entered and immediately felt as though she recognized him for who he was, even without ever having met him before, "Ah, is that Damien?"

Sierra turned around and spotted the man, waving at him as he approached. "Yup. Good eye." She waited and spoke to Damien when he got close enough, "Damien, this is Claire Fontaine, the new medical inductee I called about. I am just finishing up the last 'T's and 'I's. Then she will be all yours."

Damien gave the receptionist a gentle nod and a warm smile as his deep voice rumbled out, "Thank you Sierra." He turned to Claire and held his hand out to shake, and she met him with her own. "Miss Fontaine, Damien Winters, nice to meet you. I run the Medical Department for Third Lance, so we will be seeing quite a bit of each other in the coming days while we work to get you situated and acclimated. Do you have everything you need with you?"

"Ah, yes sir. I got my personal bag and medical kit with me." She indicated her two bags which he considered with a raised brow. "Seems a bit large for a standard medical bag. Did you bring spares?"

"Not quite, sir. I have a couple extra qualifications, so I brought that kit with me as well."

"Ah, I see." He started to say more but was interrupted by Sierra.

"Yup, she's got a few more bells and whistles to her than standard... I'm all done here." She swiped her hand across her terminal and Damien's wrist-link beeped in response. "Everything is right in those files."

"Understood, I guess I will go over them as we get time. If you would follow me please, Miss Fontaine... Here, I'll get that for you."

Damien reached down to grab her filled duffel, then blinked and tilted his head in surprise when he went to lift it. He gave both the bag and her an appraising look before coming to a realization, "You from a High-G world?"

"High-er, but I wouldn't really call it High-G... Calisto." Claire's eyes lit up and she smiled, knowing that she had just surprised him with her own strength and ability. But he simply nodded and said, "Gotcha."

With little more than a breath of effort, he hoisted the duffel up and over into a shoulder carry before sweeping his other arm at the door, "Right this way."

Claire's anticipation and posture deflated as he slung her bag around easily. Sierra caught the look and laughed brightly and winked at her, "Go have fun, sweetheart. Good Luck. I will see you around, I am sure."

Claire returned the smile and called out, "You bet!" before following Damien through the door and deeper into the facility.

He pointed out various places of note as they moved through the hallways. Communal eating and sleeping areas, recreation, work units and labs, garages and IT rooms. All of them were also clearly labeled on the walls and with signs so she wasn't concerned about getting lost like she was in some places, at least until they got to the Transit Hallway and she finally understood just how massive the complex truly was.

The wide hallway was more of a racetrack that faded into the distance. Motorized carts and small cars zipped back and forth down the length of it, some with occupants, and others being controlled by onboard AI. Damien took her to a multi passenger cart marked with a green Roman Numeral Three and put her bag on it. "Here, hop on. Third Lance's hangar and quarters are about half a click out. This will make the trip easier. Also, if you have anything to tie your hair back, now would be a good time to put it in."

"Ah, right." She paused for a moment, then decided to take a pen out of her pocket and it instead. Sticking it into her hair, she swirled it around into a crude bun with the pen pinning it all in place.

Damien observed this and nodded, "Field expedient, I like it. Alright, away we go." The cart jumped forward, startling Claire into emitting a small, "whoop" and inciting her to grab for a rail.

Damien explained the facility as he drove, his voice raised to be heard over the wind of their passage. "Our Lance Commander is Kaleb Hawke, and I serve as his Second in Command, his XO. If you have any issues or need anything, come to me first. Mostly because I am your department head, but also because I am the XO, okay? Beyond that, each of the department heads is in control over their own little slice of the world from rescue to fire and disaster management, to us in medical and more. We will get you introduced to everyone later when we have our weekly briefing.

There are five Lances with the Hospitallers right now. Each Lance has their own unique specialty, but we do cross-train with each other for emergencies. Third's specialty is medical and search and rescue. The Hangars here count outward from the main base, with One being the closest and Five the farthest. The ProxCent Shuttle Port leases this area to us, so we are free to land and take off from here so long as we follow the necessary procedures and stay out of their airspace. Each Lance maintains a starship capable of making planetary landings, which is kept in their assigned Hangar. The model of each ship is tailored to the Lance's needs. Ours is a Star Strider VII, a long-haul scientific research and exploration ship that had the specialized equipment removed and replaced with our medical and rescue gear. Each Hangar is surrounded by a grounds area where we keep extra equipment and vehicles, mock-ups for training exercises and more. The ship itself serves as our base of operations during our missions and has all of our necessary equipment on it like our medical bays, light vehicles and aerial drones. When it isn't in use we keep it in the Hangar, which also has our personal living spaces, ready room and other areas similar to what you just saw. Some people choose to live offsite, but that will be up to you.

The Hospitallers are a mostly non-profit group. But as you can no doubt tell, it is an expensive operation to maintain and surviving on just donations, even with how big human space is, would be near to impossible. So in-between missions we hire out as trainers in our respective fields and find our own alternate jobs to help defray the costs a bit. If we can cover ourselves for food and basic expenses, then that is one less thing we have to find in the donations. Some people hire out their services from here. Those General Areas I just showed you are where the public has access to for some of those trainings and other odd jobs that we provide, like vehicle maintenance. A lot of local people like to come here for those things so that they can support us and our efforts.

Tell you what, why don't you give me a quick rundown of your skills and I will see about getting you to someone who can get the ball rolling on that stuff for you."

"Oh, ok, ummm. I just graduated from basic medical school and am a certified Nurse. I also took veterinary and exo-veterinary classes and am at least certified to be an assistant in those fields. Other than that, I grew up in the mountains and forests of Calisto. Basic survival training and firearm familiarity is standard there, as is basic knowledge of forestry and geology. I worked a few odd jobs while growing up and going to school, but it was mostly customer service or warehousing in one form or another. Oh, and I know Galactic Standard."

Damien smiled at her, "Well, you certainly got a lot to choose from. I don't think we have anyone doing a veterinary practice here, might be an interesting thing to look into. The rest of it sounds good too. You would be surprised by just how many people volunteer that couldn't figure out which part of a tree is the roots or that the wind makes a fire go faster. Basic survival is an absolute must for this job, so you are well ahead of the curve there. Here we are."

He pulled into a parking section next to a loading ramp leading to a large set of double doors underneath another green Roman Three. They collected her bags and went through the doors into what looked to Claire like an office or dormitory hallway. "From what I've learned already, it's probably both. Thankfully, it is just as well marked as the other section, so I still shouldn't get lost."

Damien led her down the hall and into another, where she could begin to make out some sounds of music and conversations. "This is where most of us live. Down here you will find a rec room, weight room, cafeteria and bedrooms. Some of them are empty, so you can feel free to claim one of them. I will go check in with... Oh, speak of the Devil."

A weathered man a few inches taller than Claire and with salt and pepper hair and mustache walked out of an Office right in front of them. The distracted man looked up and blinked a few times as he got his bearings, then gave what could have been a small smile to Damien before it faded and he turned to her.

"Ah, you must be the new girl. You have either the best or most unfortunate timing." He sighed before continuing, "Proper introductions are going to have to wait, I am afraid. Damien, I was just coming to look for you. I have already sent out a recall notice to all members of the Third. We have marching orders. Can you see to it that we have everyone mustered in the Ready Room in two hours? I have to argue with Miranda's place of employment about letting her leave for duty... again. I swear they always completely ignore the contract. It is no different than reserve military, but still they want to fight it."

Damien looked at him with some concern, "Yes sir. If you don't mind my asking, where we are headed? You aren't usually this frazzled on receiving orders."

"That's because this has never been done before. We are going to Galactic Space. I'll explain the rest in the briefing." With that he took a deep breath and walked back into his office like he was shoring himself up for battle.

Damien looked at Claire, "Well, that was Mr. Hawke. Sorry to bail on you so soon, but it looks like we are all going to be very busy here shortly getting ready for the trip. Hope you are ready for On the Job Training." He held her duffel bag out for her and grinned, "But hey, at least you are already packed, right? Go ahead and wait in the rec room. I will come and get you later for the briefing since you haven't been shown around fully just yet and haven't been issued your key card."

With that he turned and went back down the hall the way they had come, leaving Claire alone.

Claire shouldered her bags and started looking for the rec room, crestfallen that she wasn't going to have the time to get settled before hauling off across the known Galaxy.

"Well, this is what you wanted right?" She stopped at the entrance of the unoccupied rec room as she suddenly remembered something, threw her head back and let out an exasperated sigh, “UUUUgggghhhhhh!”

"You just had to go and say the damned 'Q' word. Didn't you?"