“Bronse, I don‟t mean to—”
“To what? To be right? Forget it, partner.” He gripped his second‟s shoulder firmly before rising to his feet. “As you‟re fond of reminding me, we have known each other too long to worry about it.”
Lasher gave him a half smile, his roughly handsome features lighting up with his amusement. “Does that mean I can—?”
“Don‟t push your luck” came the sharp retort as Bronse exited the mess.
* * *
Twenty minutes later and feeling a damn sight better, Bronse reentered the mess to join his crew.
“First Actives,” he greeted, not realizing he sounded almost jovial compared to his recent tones and behaviors. He did become aware of it as silence fell over them, and he looked at them to see them all frozen like a snapshot in their surprise.
“Commander,” Lasher greeted in a pointed prompt, his lips twitching with humor.
“Commander,” Ender and Justice echoed in unison.
“Okay, Lasher. How about we skip the dinner date and cut right to the foreplay?” Bronse said in a prompt of his own, slinging himself into a chair and grabbing a piece of fruit.
“Copy that,” Lasher agreed, grinning when Justice snorted out a laugh. He reached out to place the holographic generator in the center of the table, and they each drew a VidPad close for their notes. “Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, I give you Project Pooch-Screw.” He pressed a button and with a brilliant flicker a full-dimensional topographical map of a section of the Grinpar Desert burst to life. In full color, with black sand and significant rock formations in graphic detail, the section began to pivot on its central point, turning slowly so each soldier could get a good look at all perspectives of the area.
“All right, pay attention, kiddies,” Lasher said. “First, we‟re going to take a look at the mission as it was handed to us by our friend at command. Insertion, point A. We land fifteen miles out from target range at the first hour of the next day, under cover of dark and, need I add, freezing-ass cold. From landing point we are to march along this line for fifteen miles until we reach point B—our goal point.”
“My, that‟s a very nice straight line,” Justice complimented him.
“Why, thank you,” Lasher rejoined, smiling at her crookedly. “I thought you might like it. But wait, it gets better.” He magnified and altered the map to draw in on their goal point—a ramshackle-looking building made of stone and mortar, with slabs of metal protruding from the foundation, evidently to reinforce it. The roof was bolted-down rusted metal plates—deck plates that had been scavenged, by the look of them.
“Hmm. A building,” Ender said softly. “A lone building in a desert prone to the most torrential and repetitive natural disaster known to man.”
“Aww, c‟mon. It‟s practically on the wilderness border. How many sand hurricanes could they possibly get?” Lasher asked leadingly.
“Okay, I say we accept that,” Justice piped up. “Location, location, location!” She spun her spoon around in the air with aplomb before setting it back in her pudding.
“So we agree to accept it as normal for a lone building to stand on the borders of the two most volatile land factions, the Nomaads and the western barbarians. Now, as luck would have it,” Lasher went on, his sarcasm sparkling merrily in his tone as the structure began to pivot on the same central point as the other maps moved, “some very, very bad men and women have decided to camp out in and around this structure.”
Justice and Ender leaned together to boo and hiss softly.
“Now, our heroes … that‟s us,” Lasher clarified as a simulation of the team lit up in position on command. Justice and Ender added appropriate cheers and applause, making Bronse chuckle in spite of his attempt to remain in neutral command. “We‟re supposed to approach the building, surround it in a wide
“To what? To be right? Forget it, partner.” He gripped his second‟s shoulder firmly before rising to his feet. “As you‟re fond of reminding me, we have known each other too long to worry about it.”
Lasher gave him a half smile, his roughly handsome features lighting up with his amusement. “Does that mean I can—?”
“Don‟t push your luck” came the sharp retort as Bronse exited the mess.
* * *
Twenty minutes later and feeling a damn sight better, Bronse reentered the mess to join his crew.
“First Actives,” he greeted, not realizing he sounded almost jovial compared to his recent tones and behaviors. He did become aware of it as silence fell over them, and he looked at them to see them all frozen like a snapshot in their surprise.
“Commander,” Lasher greeted in a pointed prompt, his lips twitching with humor.
“Commander,” Ender and Justice echoed in unison.
“Okay, Lasher. How about we skip the dinner date and cut right to the foreplay?” Bronse said in a prompt of his own, slinging himself into a chair and grabbing a piece of fruit.
“Copy that,” Lasher agreed, grinning when Justice snorted out a laugh. He reached out to place the holographic generator in the center of the table, and they each drew a VidPad close for their notes. “Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, I give you Project Pooch-Screw.” He pressed a button and with a brilliant flicker a full-dimensional topographical map of a section of the Grinpar Desert burst to life. In full color, with black sand and significant rock formations in graphic detail, the section began to pivot on its central point, turning slowly so each soldier could get a good look at all perspectives of the area.
“All right, pay attention, kiddies,” Lasher said. “First, we‟re going to take a look at the mission as it was handed to us by our friend at command. Insertion, point A. We land fifteen miles out from target range at the first hour of the next day, under cover of dark and, need I add, freezing-ass cold. From landing point we are to march along this line for fifteen miles until we reach point B—our goal point.”
“My, that‟s a very nice straight line,” Justice complimented him.
“Why, thank you,” Lasher rejoined, smiling at her crookedly. “I thought you might like it. But wait, it gets better.” He magnified and altered the map to draw in on their goal point—a ramshackle-looking building made of stone and mortar, with slabs of metal protruding from the foundation, evidently to reinforce it. The roof was bolted-down rusted metal plates—deck plates that had been scavenged, by the look of them.
“Hmm. A building,” Ender said softly. “A lone building in a desert prone to the most torrential and repetitive natural disaster known to man.”
“Aww, c‟mon. It‟s practically on the wilderness border. How many sand hurricanes could they possibly get?” Lasher asked leadingly.
“Okay, I say we accept that,” Justice piped up. “Location, location, location!” She spun her spoon around in the air with aplomb before setting it back in her pudding.
“So we agree to accept it as normal for a lone building to stand on the borders of the two most volatile land factions, the Nomaads and the western barbarians. Now, as luck would have it,” Lasher went on, his sarcasm sparkling merrily in his tone as the structure began to pivot on the same central point as the other maps moved, “some very, very bad men and women have decided to camp out in and around this structure.”
Justice and Ender leaned together to boo and hiss softly.
“Now, our heroes … that‟s us,” Lasher clarified as a simulation of the team lit up in position on command. Justice and Ender added appropriate cheers and applause, making Bronse chuckle in spite of his attempt to remain in neutral command. “We‟re supposed to approach the building, surround it in a wide
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