Episode 20

In Good Hands

UCCs fresh from the simulator and still wearing their combat avatars, crowded into the lobby.

Everyone began mingling with their respective social factions to speculate about what was going on. I joined a familiar group of veterans I had spent some time with in the sim. I didn’t know any of them very well, but at least we had some connection through our combat training. Still a rookie, I was eager to hear their thoughts on what was happening.

One of the guys shared his theory with the group. “I’ve got a buddy who hacked into the navigation system. He said the ship made a major course change a few days ago. Says we’re headed to Trappist-1e. I bet we’re going in as a QRF for some sorry fuckers who’re getting their asses kicked. “

Judging by the shaking heads and profanity, no one, was particularly keen on this prospect.

A QRF, or Quick Reaction Force, was typically used to rescue troops that had become overwhelmed by the enemy in battle. Based on what I’d heard, these operations were usually a shitshow, with the rescuing force taking heavy casualties. It wasn’t unheard of for the rescuers to be completely annihilated while trying to execute their so-called ‘rescue’ mission.

Another veteran, whose name I didn’t know, complained, “Trappist-1e? I heard that place is a fuckin’ alien fortress. They’re sending us in to clean up someone else’s mess. It’s not right.”

Someone, whom everyone called Chef, added, “It’s rare to pull a QRF from a separate troopship. It’s USMC policy to never mix combat troops from multiple ships in the same theater of operations.” Slowly shaking his head, he continued, “The situation must be really bad if they’re ignoring that policy. “

There was more swearing upon hearing his gloomy assessment. Some in our group simply hung their heads, as if already accepting the inevitable. We were going into combat, most likely against a well-prepared enemy who knew we were coming.

I knew from my training that the sequence of events would be control module installation, insertion, and then frontline combat. But since I’d never been in actual combat, I didn’t know how the timing worked. I decided to ask Chef how much time we would have to prep for action.

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“Hey, if this is the real thing, how long before we’re on the ground, and in combat?”

Even though we had occasionally been on the same team in the simulator, I had never actually spoken to Chef. He looked me over, as if sizing me up and then asked, “You haven’t been in combat, have you?” I shook my head in response.

He sighed, then said, “Well, once we get the go code, it’s usually a couple of hours until they finish loading the control modules. When that’s done, they’ll transmit the battle orders. 15 minutes after receiving orders, we’ll be launched for insertion.”

I desperately wanted to communicate with Cherri but with the comms network blocked, that was impossible. I asked Chef when the network would be available again.

He said, “They usually unblock it after we get our orders, and before we launch. There’s about a 15-minute window to contact someone. But that’s not 100%. Sometimes they block the comms continuously until we return from a mission. My advice to you, is to focus on your battle orders when you get them. There’ll be plenty of time to talk when you get back to the ship.”

As I digested his advice, someone added darkly, “If … you get back to the ship.” There was chuckling among the veterans at this morbid joke.

I felt like I was cursed. I had just started to build a life with Cherri and things seemed to be going so well. Now I was just hours away from real combat, and the possibility of a violent death. I didn’t know what the survival stats were for rookies during their first combat mission, but I had the feeling it was probably a coin toss. I was overwhelmed by fear.

My anguish must have been obvious. As the group began to disperse and exit the lobby, Chef approached me. “Listen, don’t get wrapped up in all the ‘what ifs.’ You’ll get through this if you just rely on your training and listen to your squad leader.”

I appreciated his attempt to prop up my courage and nodded my head that I understood. “Thanks” The fact that someone seemed to give a shit, helped to tamp down my anxiety a little. If nothing else, it seemed like I would be able to count on my squad mates for help if I got into trouble.

Then I suddenly realized; I had no idea what squad I was in. I asked Chef about it. “Hey, when do we get our squad assignments?”

“If you’re a rookie, you’ll get your squad assignment with your first battle orders. That will be your permanent squad unless they reassign you for some reason.” Not knowing whose squad I would be assigned to, did little to reduce my apprehension.

Just then, I began to feel a powerful energy begin to surge through me. The interior of the lobby seemed to brighten, and the scene before me took on a noticeably sharper resolution. Checking my metrics to see if I had suffered a malfunction, it was clear that the battery temperature in my control module had risen several degrees. I wondered if it was overheating.

Then Chef said, “Feel that? They’re quick-charging the backup batteries in the control modules. They do that just before installation, to ensure everyone goes into combat with a fully charged module. We need to get out of here, right now.”

I looked around and saw that we were the only ones left in the lobby. I opened the menu in my HUD and was just about to exit when Chef spoke. “Hey, don’t worry, they always assign rookies to a squad of veterans. You’ll be in good hands.” His avatar gave me a quick thumbs up and disappeared.

It was a relief to know I would be grouped with more experienced soldiers. Veterans, who could look after me in combat. I exited the lobby and anxiously awaited my baptism of fire.