“Monarch.” The Colonel called out, as she brought up the information on the planet P’col.

“Ma’am.” The Monarch said, appearing in front of the Colonel’s desk, standing at attention, before she saluted the Colonel. The Colonel absently saluted back.

“I want you to set up a meeting with the boys. Tell them I want to discuss their little tournament.” She told her as she looked over at Monarch’s avatar.

“Yes, Ma’am.” The Monarch replied.

“Thank you, Monarch.” The Colonel said, nodding to the avatar, who still stood at attention in front of her desk. The Monarch saluted and did an excellent about-face maneuver before vanishing.

The Colonel smiled. Some of the ships didn’t like to use avatars as they didn’t like to pretend to be human, but the Monarch was one of those odd ones who did. The Colonel looked back down at the data and continued to work. Several hours later, she sent off her report then got up and moved around her desk. She mentally brought up the ship's menu and selected the correct time and the conference room before she got there. The door automatically opened as she got close enough for it to sense her. She barely slowed down as the door opened and she stepped into the light.

“Attention on deck!” Second Lt. Coleman said, coming to his feet. His XO, who had been sitting next to him, jumped to her feet as well.

First Lt. Shen got up much slower. His XO stood up much faster, beating his boss by a good full second. Warrant Vennar, Third Division’s CO, and his XO, Warrant Scott, both beat First Lt. Shen to their feet. The Final Divisional Officer, Warrant Gear, the CO of the 4th Division, was already standing before the Colonel walked in. The Colonel noted it as she always did.

“At ease.” She told the room, as she found her chair at the head of the table and sat down. “I’ve read the reports and watched the sims. I want to hear your thoughts. Shen, why the prison mission?”

“New Hong Kong has a history of secular violence. I’m assuming that they have our people locked away in some backwater prison. I wanted the gunnys to wargame some ideas to free our people.” Lt. Shen replied.

“Very well, do you have an idea on who you want to send?” She asked him.

“I was thinking of sending one of my Platoon’s from Fifth Company. The gunny in charge has an excellent grasp of the tactics needed to free them.” Lt. Shen replied.

The Colonel didn’t bother taking notes. It had been a long time since she needed to. She had maxed out on her memory mods well before she had been promoted to her current rank. She nodded and turned to the other Lt. “Who do you want on this from your people, Coleman?” She asked her subordinate.

“I would like to hold First Company on reserve on this one, Ma’am.” Lt. Coleman replied.

“Third Company did better. Are you thinking of holding them back for something else?” The colonel asked.

“Like they’re going to be his company after the tournament.” Lt. Shen said snidely.

The colonel bit back her reply. She liked to keep her meetings informal, but Lt. Shen had a habit of pushing things a bit far. It wasn’t like he was a bad officer. He was a great tactician, it was just that he had a very relaxed military bearing. She knew that when she picked him for her battalion, but it still irked her sometimes. She knew he could still go much further in the Marines, but she was worried about his behavior.

She looked at Colman and sighed as she spotted his poor attempt to hide his irritation. She thought he might get one more promotion out of the Marines before he was asked to retire. While he was a Marine through and through, his problem was that he lacked Shen’s tactical genius. He wasn’t stupid by any means, or he would have never risen as high as he had. It was just that he was missing that something special that made colonels shine. Shen had that extra something and would eventually make colonel if his attitude didn’t kill his chances.

“Maybe I should start insisting on a more formal approach.” She thought to herself as she looked Shen over.

“Lieutenant.” She warned him and watched as he straightened up. She noted Coleman’s irritation faded somewhat.

“Sorry, Ma’am.” Lt. Shen apologised.

“Now, about your third company?” She asked, turning back towards Coleman.

“I have some concerns. The only reason they did so well was because of First Platoon. While I understand that there is no proof, I am worried about their success.” He replied.

“You mean Private O’Malley.” Shen said, leaning forward on the table. The Colonel decided to let that one go to see how Coleman reacted.

“I’m trying not to be prejudiced, but look at what she’s done. A Golden E as a Recruit. Getting a badge less than a year in. Just look at her kill count in this past mission. I might overlook her success if she had been to an academy, but she hasn’t. She was raised in an area that hasn’t sent anyone to any branch of the military, planetary or Federation, since well before she was born. From what I have read, no one with any form of military training besides police work has retired to that part of the continent. I’m worried about where she got her training. She is just too good to be true and that scares me, Ma’am.” Coleman explained.

She looked at her Lt. for a few seconds, seeing his point. She made a decision. “Monarch?”

“Ma’am?” The Monarch asked, suddenly appearing at the far end of the table.

“You may share the information on Private O'Malley up to level two.” She told the ship.

“Sweet Mary, she’s a psychic. No, not just a psychic, a combat psychic.” Lt. Shen said with a smile.

“And that’s why he’ll make Colonel, if he doesn't tank his chances with his attitude.” She thought to herself.

“That’s not possible. She hasn’t had… She’s… Already?” Coleman asked, frowning.

“She popped before the Tournament.” The Monarch confirmed.

“What did she do, dump all her mod points into perception? That wouldn’t account for her…” Lt. Shen said, letting his sentence fade as he frowned at the table thinking. He suddenly looked up, his expression showing his surprise as he opened his mouth, but the Colonel quickly interrupted.

“That information is above level two.” She warned him. She was pleased when he nodded and shut his mouth. Then she decided to throw him a bone. “It’s all speculation at this point.”

“If that is true then why hasn’t PsyOps snatched her up?” Lt. Coleman asked, looking confused.

“Her deaths.” Lt. Shen reasoned.

“By Treasia, he’s good.” She thought, as she looked at him.

“They want her to get more experience. She’ll likely stay with us for the entire tour. They might even send her to another carrier after her time with us is up, if she doesn’t improve.” She told Coleman, as she turned to look at him.

“I want her in my Division. Her platoon as well. The rest, Coleman can keep. Because, frankly, they need more seasoning before they get promoted. I also want their gunny. I need to replace one of mine.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Coleman replied, nodding his head. “There are two I want to pull out because they aren't ready, but I can give you two I think you’ll like.”

The Colonel resisted smiling because she thought her two lieutenants would misunderstand her intentions, but she was pleased with Coleman’s attitude change.

“Okay, back to the tournament…” She told them, trying to steer the meeting back on track.

Freya stepped out of the light and smiled as the afterglow of the mission hit her. The pain and numbness on her knee and stomach were gone and she felt a hundred percent better. She moved aside to let the rest of her platoon mates pass her as she took in the air of Camp Iron Hand.

“Feeling better?” Sergeant Leni asked as she stepped through the mission door. She had a huge smile on her face. Freya looked at the Sergeant in confusion for a second before her memories came crashing back. She felt her face get hot.

“Just how many pens did you take?” One asked as she too stepped through the door.

“I took three earlier in the day, then Sergeant Torres gave me three.” Freya replied, as she watched Dusty come through the door.

“Six medi pens in under twenty-fours hours. No wonder you were stoned out of your mind.” Sergeant Leni said, chuckling. Then everyone froze as the blue boxes appeared with their score.

You have completed the third Tournament mission successfully.

Tallying up your reward.

Mission rewards

90% credit reward for capturing Spaceport.

-10% deduction because of moderate damage to the first and fourth floor in the Lift Command Center.

Platoon Mission Bonuses

Destroyed Command Center

Successfully gained control of Lift Command Center.

Stole enemy assault shuttle.

Killed over one thousand enemy combatants.

Killed an enemy battalion Executive Officer.

Killed an enemy battalion Commanding Officer.

Killed a divisional Commanding Officer.

Killed every member of a single Divisional Command Staff

Reduced enemy morale from yellow to red.

More than half of the platoon survived to the end of the no respawn mission.

Individual bonuses

AI +12

Personally killed an enemy battalion Commanding Officer.

Personally killed a battalion Executive Officer.

Personally killed the majority of the members of a Divisional Command staff.

Hacked enemy systems.

Stole enemy assault shuttle.

Caused the death and serious injury of 21% of all combatants in a single battalion.

Major contributor in reducing enemy morale from yellow to red.

Highest enemy kill count in battalion.

Company tournament Ranks

10th best company in the battalion based on mission points and bonuses of platoon members.

Reward: One large and two medium building to each platoon’s camp. 25,000 credits to each platoon's war chest.

Best Company in Second Division based on mission points and bonuses of platoon members.

Reward: One large building to platoon’s camp. 10,000 credits to platoon’s war chest.

Platoon tournament Ranks

21st best platoon in the Battalion based on mission points and bonuses.

Rewards: Bonus to personal rewards increased by 1% for each platoon that was higher in rank before the tournament started. Current increase 27%.

Highest ranking platoon in the Second Division.

Rewards: Bonus to personal rewards increased by 1% for each platoon in Second Division that was higher in rank before the tournament started. Current increase 8%.

Personal tournament Ranks

Ranked number 1 in the Private Rank only bracket

Ranked 47th in non-leadership position bracket.

Ranked 2nd best Hacker in tournament.

Ranked 16th in 2nd Scout template non-leadership bracket.

Ranked number 1 highest kill count in tournament.

Total Personal rewards for Tournament

33,157 E-Points, 1,047 Skill points and 1,047 Mod points. 9,870 credits. 10 looted credits.

Congratulations! You have leveled up.

9,474.901 of 9,474.901 E-points needed for next level.

Congratulations! You have leveled up.

9,474.901 of 9,474.901 E-points needed for next level.

Congratulations! You have leveled up.

6,706.298 of 9,474.901 E-points needed for next level

Your company has earned the top company, Second Division reward.

Your company has been awarded a top seat in the Final Tournament Mission.

Your company has been given a bye week to prepare for the final mission of the tournament.

Your company has earned the right to go on the next real world combat mission.

Seating on the next real world mission to be determined by final rankings of the tournament.

Status Screen

Name: Freya O’Malley

Rank: Private. Level: 11

Template: 2nd Scout

Enlisted points: 117,561.64

Credits: 10,828

Skill points: 1,049

Mod points: 1,050

Weapons:

Desus MOA Magnetic heavy rifle

Mega Colax purified battery Six heat sinks NG rod ammo.

Armor:

Wrath EC Tier 5 (modded to tier 3)

Massimio Friction assistance Cloudforge Sensor alert Seven drones Memory Expansion Module Two Ove Standard batteries AIT (removable) Stealth boost

Side weapons:

GMZ 127 energy rifle

Colax purified battery

Hayes 2020 pistol

Two Mrock pistol ammo rods

Asy Minor short barrel energy rifle

Colax purified battery

Basic combat knife

Ship:

Goozden 127 light armored Respawn Dropship

Causnix Mac 127 Recurve Engine Active camouflage Six respawn pods Vehicle dock Mech reloading printer Shand’s Auto Cannon

Wetware mods

Health

Level: 75

Health Regen

Level: 75

Strength

Level: 76

Perception

Level: 250

Agility

Level: 250

Dexterity:

Level: 250

Memory

Level: 174

Processing speed

Level: 225

Personal AI

Level: 38

Skills cont:

Zero G Maneuvering

Level 5

Advanced Shipboard Tactics

N/A

Spaceborn Vessel

Systems

List

Martial Arts:

Líng Zhònglì Zhàndòu

Level 5

Master

Skills:

Enhanced sensing

Level: 2

Tracking

Level: 5

Acrobatics

Level: 5

One time infantry Drop ship

Level: 1

Special Warfare

N/A

FTL Communication

Phd.

Engineer

Master

Advanced Drone Operator

Level: 9

Piloting

Level: 14

Silent Walking

Level: 5

Silent Combat Running

Level: 5

Advanced Targeting

N/A

Hacking

Level: 5

Zero G. Combat

N/A

Bomb Making

*Non template skill*

Level 2

Hardware mods:

Suicide mod

HUD Mods:

Non Federation military rank mod

High value facial recognition mod.

Medals: Gold E Sharpshooter Badges: Cyber Warfare

Freya smiled at the rewards. They were awesome, especially going on a real world mission, but she was confused about what the notification about the seating meant. All around her people started celebrating. She jerked to the side as Dusty leaned backwards and screamed. One pulled her shirt off and started running around in her sports bra swinging her shirt around.

Suddenly Freya felt herself being lifted up. She had to resist really seriously hurting the person who picked her up. She looked behind her and saw that it was Mon. He was smiling as he spun her around in his arms. She relaxed in his arms as he spun her around.

She smiled as her platoon celebrated their win. She watched as Sergeant Leni did several backflips before she fell over laughing. Netty appeared out of nowhere and started dancing around her and Mon, throwing her arms in the air. Dusty followed her, dancing like a chicken. It was the funniest thing she had ever seen.

“Hey, what does the seating mean?” She asked, leaning down to make herself heard over the cheering.

“It means the entire company might get promoted upwards. Hell, it said top seat. That means we might become First Company.” Mon replied.

“Not just that.” Dusty said, as he started doing his chicken dance in place. “We’re the tenth best company in the battalion. That means we beat out a company from First Division. We could end up as a company in First Division.”

“First Division!” Netty yelled, as she stopped in shock.

The platoon celebrated until Sergeant Torres and Gunny walked through the Mission lobby door. “Attention on deck!” Sergeant Leni called out. Mon dropped her to the ground and they both came to attention.

“Gather round, people.” Sergeant Torres yelled. Freya and the rest of the platoon hurried over. Those that died on the mission came running from the platoon’s respawn bay.

“Good job today. It was a tough mission, but we pulled it off.” Sergeant Torres said, when everyone settled down. “Before we get into platoon business, Gunny wanted to talk to you guys. Gunny?”

“Like Sergeant Torres said, your platoon did an amazing job with that last mission. It was a killer, you guys kicked its butt. That said we are being given a bye week because of our standings. I’m authorizing a three day stand down for all your hard work getting this far in the tournament with the ranking we have.” Gunny told them.

“Take some time off. Relax, because when you guys come back, Sergeant Torres will be training your butts off. The next mission is a full-on assault of the mission planet. It’s a full battalion mission and that means we will be working as a company in most of our missions. That also means that we will be working with other companies as well, so I expect your best behavior. If someone blows up on you, I want you to stand down and let the Monarch sort it out. Understood?” Gunny asked them.

“Yes, Ma’am!” The platoon replied.

“Damn good job. I heard that even Lt. Coleman was impressed with you guys. Keep up the good job. Sergeant.” Gunny said, nodding to Sergeant Torres before heading towards the mission lobby door.

“Before everyone takes off, I want a platoon-wide cookout. Beers are on me.” Sergeant Torres said, smiling as the platoon cheered.

“I’ll cook.” Mon said from beside Freya.

“No offence to your amazing skills as a chef, Mon, but I was going to do it.” Sergeant Torres replied, smiling.

“No offense, Sergeant, but I've eaten your cooking. I don’t think we couldn’t afford the respawn penalties from dying outside of a sim. I say let the expert do the cooking.” Sergeant Leni told him, shaking her head.

“I don’t cook that badly. Okay, fine, if Mon wants to cook, he can.” Sergeant Torres said in mock sadness, before throwing his hands into the air. Freya joined in as her platoon cheered once more.

“Cookout will start around six on the beach. We can go over what we want for our rewards and see who gets the bonehead award this time at the cookout.” Sergeant Torres told them. “Until then, spend your points, enjoy the spa, or just take a nap. Your time is your own. Dismissed.”

Freya decided to spend her points as Torres suggested. She waited in line beside Mon for the training facility.

“So,what are you going to do on your off days?” Mon asked her as they waited.

“I don’t know. I need to call my mother and check in with her. Other than that I’m free. What are you guys going to do?” She asked him.

“Well, we’re going to close Chivia’s tonight, if you want to go. I intend to get smashed.” Mon explained.

“Can I come?” Netty asked from behind Mon.

“Sure. The more the merrier.” Mon replied.

“Who else is going?” Freya asked.

“Me, Dusty and Dog, now you and Netty.” He told them, as they got to the front of the line. Freya was not sure if she wanted to go back to Chivia’s, but the thought of hanging around the camp alone was worse. She put the idea out of her head as it was her turn at the console.

Freya looked at all the skills that she could get and sighed. There were a lot of skill options and she hadn’t really planned what she wanted. She did spend 400 skill points on getting the bomb making skill all the way to level 10, but other than that she didn’t know what else to spend her points on. She had over six-hundred points left over. Realizing that she didn’t have to pick her skills right at this moment she changed screens to her mod choices.

She added enough points to Perception to get it to three hundred and winced at how much it cost. To raise it a single point now cost her 6 mod points. If she wanted to increase it above three hundred, then the cost would increase to 7 points per mod point. She decided to stop at three-hundred. She raised her Agility and Dex to three-hundred as well and nearly all her points disappeared.

Finally she looked at her Processing speed and Memory. She didn’t like that her mMemory was still in the one-hundreds so she added enough points to get it to two-hundred before she stopped. That left her with forty-six points left. She added ten points to Health and Health Regen, bringing her total down to 6 points. She thought about throwing three points into Strength but changed her mind. With missing one tournament mission she was worried about how many points she would get after it was over. She decided to hold on to her last six mod points. Finalizing her selection she opened the door and stepped into the light.

Inside, she found herself in the explosives classroom. Her first level had been a survey on what the Marines used for ammunition. The next level, she had learned about all the different types of bombs and how they were made. Now, in the third class, she had to learn how non-standard bombs like non-lethal explosives were made. That meant that she had to spend a lot of time learning all the different types of non-lethal gasses that the Marines used. She also had to learn how things like flash bang grenades were made and why they worked so well. Once she was done she was able to take the next level class.

In the fourth level class, she learned about what the navy used to protect their ship. In the fifth level, she learned about what the Army used. It was mostly the same thing she had learned in the second level, with a few exceptions. The sixth level scared her senseless. She learned all about mass destruction devices, from orbitals that the navy used to bombard cities to massive continent-wide bombs that were used to sterilise entire land masses. For the seventh level of the skill, she learned how to disarm bombs safely with things like controlled water explosions to gel encasement. In the eighth level of the skill, she learned how to create her own improvised explosive with things any military armory had on hand - like stringing artillery shells together to create a bomb. The ninth level showed her how to create bombs from what she could get at a local store. The last level in the skill dealt with what Toast did to blow up the Camp in the first tournament mission. The class showed her how to use industrial chemicals and the like to create massive explosions.

She left the training facility kind of scared of how easy it was to create some of the bombs she had learned about. She went back to the barracks to finally call her mother. She sat down in the nice chairs and hooked herself up to the console. She went to her messages and saw that she had a few waiting on her from her mother. The first couple talked about random people who went to school with Freya and what they were doing now. Most of the girls she had known in school were mothers now with families.

Freya frowned at the image of her mother in the next message. She looked old. Her hair, which had only had a few grey hairs, was almost completely white by the time she watched the third message. The fourth message had Freya blinking away tears as her mother looked frail. Even though she was up-beat, Freya knew something was wrong. The next message confirmed it. Her mother was being treated for cancer.

Her mother looked like someone had thrown skin over her skull. While cancer was a treatable disease, you had to have money to afford it. Her mother didn’t. It was then that Freya realized that she could have sent money home at any time since she joined up. If she had done so then it would have easily paid for the treatment. She almost missed it when her mother told her that the people around town had taken up a collection to help her out with her medical bills. She told Freya that she would be fine. Freya sighed in relief as she played the last message. Her mother looked healthier now. She wasn’t back to her vibrant self yet but it was obvious that she was getting healthier.

She composed a message and, trying not to cry, she sent it off with half of her credits. She told her mother about the tournament and how well her platoon was doing. She apologised about not sending a message sooner. She lost it near the end of the message when she talked about her mother’s cancer and how bad she felt for not knowing about it. She must have told her mother she was sorry about ten times before she signed off. She got an answer almost immediately afterwards.

“Freya O’Malley, you stop this ‘I’m sorry’ bullcrap. I did not raise you to be this whiny little lady. If your grandfather could see you now, he would smack you upside your head. You are all grown up now with a life of your own. I understand that, while it might be a few weeks for you, it has been a bunch of years for me. We knew this was going to happen. I really don’t expect you to call all that often.”

“Thank you for the money you sent. I paid everyone who helped me back and then we used some of it to build a new pier on St Ann’s bay and I gave a bunch of it to charity. Todd, your second cousin on your father's side, has joined up as well. I think you might have started a new trend once people realized how much money the Marines are paying you. That brings me to my point. I’m an old woman now and, while I’m glad you're rich, I want you to keep your money. Go buy a mansion somewhere when you get out and enjoy your life. I used your money to pay off the bank so we own the house free and clear. I created a will and the house will go to you when I pass, if you ever return here. I hope you don’t. Now, know that I love you, but stop with this guilt crap. Live up to the O’Malley name, my daughter, and live your life. I may not be here next time you call, but know that I will always love you. You are my pride and joy. Enjoy life to the fullest, and regret nothing. I only wished I had your courage when I was your age, but then again I would not have you. Go with God, child.”

Freya left the entertainment room and hid in her room to cry. She was glad her mother was okay now, but the feeling of her not being there both scared her and made her sad. She knew that there might not be another message from her mother. She almost went back down to send her another message, but she didn’t because she knew that would make her mother mad.

She decided to take her mother's advice and live her life. To cheer herself up, she went back down the stairs to spend some time in the spa. The only other person inside was Dancing, who acknowledged Freya with a nod before closing her eyes to listen to her music. Not wanting to talk to another person Freya did the same.

When she finally left the barracks to go to the cookout, she was a little late. Everyone had already left. She ran across the grass field to the beach, making it to the cookout fifteen minutes late. If anyone noticed, no one said anything.

She found a seat by herself at one of the picnic tables as everyone around her celebrated in some way. She looked over at the drunken volleyball game that was happening just on the beach. They were stopping every time someone made a point to chug a beer. Freya let her gaze travel the beach where she heard some screaming as a bunch of people were swimming and playing random water games. Not feeling like joining the fun, Freya was trying to think of a way to leave early when Netty sat down beside her and handed her a beer.

“Took you long enough to get here. I had to drink your last beer because it was getting warm.” She told Freya, with a smile.

Before Freya could respond, Dusty sat down on the other side of the table with two plates of food. He slid one of the plates in front of Freya wordlessly, before he started eating his. Freya looked down at her food and realized that she was hungry. She grabbed the burger and started eating. She nodded her thanks to Dusty as she did so. He nodded back.

Mon joined them a few minutes later with a plate overflowing with food. He sat down and started handing out food from his plate to everyone only leaving a single burger for himself. Netty left and returned with another round of beers as they ate. No one said anything as they ate. They just sat around and watched what the rest of the platoon was doing. Freya was touched by her friends and took a deep breath before letting her guilt and anxiety out. Her friends made her feel centred and relaxed. She had made some mistakes and she might never see her mother alive again, but she had her family right in front of her. It made her smile for the first time since she had talked to her mother.

“Everyone, shut up and settle down.” Torres yelled out, not five minutes later. When the platoon did as he asked, he continued. “Hell of a good job with the mission today. You have no idea the waves we created in the battalion. A lot of people are going to come gunning for us and we have to be ready. Gunny has given us three days off and I want you people to use it to relax. I have some ideas on that, but I’ll talk about that later.”

“First, the bonehead awards.” He said, as he fiddled with his wrist and a hologram appeared floating in the air. Freya blinked as she saw herself from Sergeant Torres' perspective. She could see how serious the injury to her knee was. While she couldn’t see the actual injury, she could see a large chunk of her knee was missing. On top of that, her entire leg was covered in blood. That wasn’t the only injury either. The gash on her stomach looked much bigger than she remembered. She was suddenly glad that it had been only a sim.

Torres let them watch as he gave the medi pen injections before he turned around to face them. On his hologram Freya watched herself as she started acting high. She felt her cheeks getting warm at what she said. Sergeant Torres let the clip run until the end. Only then did he turn it off as people started chuckling.

“The award goes to me.” He told them. “I reacted without thinking. I saw her injuries and panicked. I didn’t check her suit vital signs and just administered the medi pens. Yes, this made Magic high as hell, but it could have killed her. I messed up and, Magic, I would like to apologize to you. I’m sorry for being a bonehead.”

Feeling embarrassed for being put on the spot, Freya nodded her head. “It’s cool, Sergeant.” She told him.

“Thanks, Magic.” He said smiling. “Now, onto the other crazy stuff that happened on this mission. For those of us who were hiding inside the Lift Center, let's see what Magic got up too, shall we? Just so everyone knows, this is not part of the bonehead awards. It's just cool to watch.”

Freya and the rest of the platoon watched clips of the past mission for the next five minutes. Freya felt her face get redder and redder as time passed. The platoon, on the other hand, started cheering. They cheered the loudest when Torres showed the clip of her hacking the assault ship and turning it on the enemy soldiers. The last clip was of her in the stairwell as the enemy soldiers ran right by her, running for the exit. The platoon howled in laughter when they saw it.

Sergeant Torres smiled as he turned off the hologram. “As you can see, while we are good, without Magic, we would have lost that mission. I want you guys to think about that when you come back. We’ve got some serious training ahead of us before this mission and we need to get better.” He told them.

“Now, onto the rewards. We have two large buildings and two medium buildings. My suggestion is that, since we are taking a three day break, we turn one of the large buildings into a travel terminal. If we sell the two medium buildings, we can even have enough credits to make travel to where we want to go free. We’ll just have to pay for our lodgings and food. I’m also tired of leaving camp to go to the stores. I want a camp exchange. That way we can get a ten percent discount on what we buy and not have to travel all over the concourse just to buy that extra thing that we need. That's just my suggestion. If you guys have something else you want to get, we’ll vote on it.” He told them.

There were a few other suggestions but in the end the platoon decided on going with what Torres suggested. “A couple of rules with the travel termal. Anyone not reporting on time to muster will be written up. I also don’t want anyone showing up not having been to sleep the night before. You do that then I’ll shut the termal down. Understood?” He asked the platoon.

“I also want you to remember that this is a ship-wide system. You will interact with not only members of other platoons, but with the navy guys and gals. You will not start something with them. You will turn your backs and let the Monarch sort it all out. If I hear that anyone in my platoon got into a fight, I don’t care if you started it or not, then you’re out. I don’t want any trouble makers in my platoon. Understood?” He asked them once more.

When he got the response he wanted, he smiled. “Okay, the cookout is over. Clean up then get out of the camp so that I can make the changes. I’ll see you at muster in three days. Damn good job, Iron Hand.” He said, holding his hand in the air. Freya raised her hand with the rest of the platoon and shouted the Marine war cry with the rest of the platoon.