Dropship One

by L. D. P. Samways

  “For me?” I asked.

  He smiled.

  “Yeah, you earned it. But don’t think I buy all my Marines a beer. Only the ones I like,” he said, winking at me before taking a big gulp of his beer.

  Pea Shooter did the same. I thought it would be rude if I didn’t join them. So I took a gulp of the cold stuff and placed it gently down on the table. I looked up at Pea Shooter who was smiling at me, and then at Spooks who was doing the same. The two of them were making me feel a little on edge. It was like they knew something that I didn’t, but not to come across like a wimp, I kept my mouth shut and continued to nurse my pint.

  The table went silent as we sat there drinking. The other men around us, the ones seated at their own tables, seemed to be enjoying themselves a lot more than the three of us were. Or at least they were making more noise. But these two were quiet. Too quiet. Even for my own liking, which was saying much I know!

  “So, what’s up?” I asked, taking another sip from my jug-like glass.

  “Nothing. Just thought it would be nice to catch up,” Spooks said.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “Catch up on what? Has there been any news?” I asked.

  “No, just that we’re heading out tomorrow. That and the brass are happy with how we have all performed, hence the shindig,” Spooks said, taking another sip.

  His glass was almost empty, and as if on cue, a man wearing some Marine issued waiting gear topped off his drink and walked away. Looking around, I could see that this shindig, as Spooks had referred to it, was a well-oiled endeavour. Near every table, a man or woman operative stood by, a jug of beer in one hand, a towel in the other, ready to swoop in and top up any empty glasses. It was a strange sight. I’d never seen a sanctioned party before, if you could even call this a party, that is, but I knew they existed.

  And the only reason they existed was to boost morale when things were bleak, or were expected to turn bleak. I couldn’t help but think of this as a sort of last supper. Like the brass were making sure that we were well fed before our blood was spilt on the Tribeca planet once again. So I wasn’t in the greatest of moods. I thought that the party was just a feeble attempt at keeping our spirits high, and if that truly was the case, then I knew that whatever lay in wait for us in the capital city was bad enough to actually make this our last supper.

  “How’s the native?” I said, finally breaking the silence that shrouded our table.

  “He took a bullet in the arm. Ship doctor says he’ll live. The planet officials are more than happy with our rescue efforts and the fact that we got him out of there alive is proving quite the bargaining chip for us,” Spooks said, his large glass nearly empty yet again.

  I sat there watching as our assigned table waiter poured some more ale into his glass and stood aside once again, allowing us to continue our conversation.

  “What do you mean? How is he a bargaining chip? We keeping him hostage?” I asked, finishing my glass. To my disappointment, the waiter hadn’t noticed my dry glass until a minute or two after I’d finished.

  “Hostage? Are you crazy? Do you know what they’d do to us if we even attempted such a thing?” Spooks asked.

  “No, I don’t. But forgive my ignorance Sir, but if these guys are in such need of assistance from us, then surely they don’t pose much of a threat if we pushed our weight around a little?”

  Spooks shook his head. Pea Shooter just sat there, incoherent. I guess conversational skills weren’t something the man possessed.

  “Just because they need our help to flush these pirates off their sovereign land doesn’t mean they are weak by any means. These creatures are cunning and hold many skills under their belts. For instance, they are great at acquiring wealth, and because of their ability to do so, they’ve managed to align themselves with some big time corporations and planets,” he said, taking another sip.

  By now, the waiter was filling my glass back up. I gave the guy a sarcastic smile and was met with scorn as the guy took a few steps back into his position and rose his nose up in the air.

  “So why do they need us if they have so many friends in such high places?” I asked.

  “Because they chose us specifically. They see us as a capable force. A force to be reckoned with. And we know that they see us like that. So that’s why rescuing the native and bringing him back on board safe and sound has gained us an additional playing card. You see, we can now command a higher price for our services. And they will pay. Their wealth is astronomical. Much higher than our own, hence why we’re in service to them and not the other way round.”

  I nodded.

  “But won’t they get mad if the brass asks them for a higher payout?” I said, taking another sip. The beer was ice cold and to my liking. I may not be a big drinker, but even I can appreciate a cold one.

  “Yeah, you’re right, they could get mad. They could even terminate the contract and commission another party to finish the job,” Spooks said.

  I frowned.

  “So why risk it? Why risk losing the contract? I don’t see the benefits Sir. If we piss these things off then all of this was for nothing. I know Earth sells their services to the highest bidder, and that’s how a lot of our space travel is funded, but if we lose this contract, then not only will it make us look bad, but it would mean that it was all a waste of time!”

  Pea Shooter smiled.

  “This whole thing is a waste of time, Jensen. We all get paid the same either way. Two and a half thousand credits a day. Two and a half thousand credits to risk our lives. And for what? To send money back home? To help mom and dad keep a roof over their head? But what truly is the point? Think about it; back home, if you decided to take a career in administration, you’d be set for life. You’d get paid crap, but at least you’d live long enough to see the years come and go. But we’re Marines. We get paid a lot to die fast. That’s how it works. Anybody who actually makes it in this line of work ends up biting a bullet sooner or later. So enjoy the money while it’s there. I for one won’t be complaining if the guys up top negotiate a better deal for us. More money means a better funeral for me!” He said, taking a sip of his beer.

  I laughed, which annoyed him. I could tell that he was very happy with how his speech had come out, and if nobody was around, I was willing to bet that he’d be patting himself on the back. But I saw it for what it was and that was settling. No man should be settling for a thing. If something is someway, and you want it another way, there should be nothing stopping you from changing it. That’s how humanity was built, but in my opinion, recently, it had been going downhill.

  “You think if they manage to secure a better deal for them that it will impact us in any way?” I asked.

  Pea Shooter nodded.

  “It has to, right?” he said, a little confused, still sipping on his beer. I watched the condensation sliding down his glass as he took a few more chugs.

  “The current deal they have is far more than what we’re being paid. They’ve allotted our wages and capped them. No matter if they triple or quadruple the contracts payout, we’re still going to be on basic rate. That’s how it works, Pea Shooter. Besides, you aren’t a Marine, so you get paid even less!” I said, smiling at him.

  A look of dumbfounded realization spread across his face.

  “I guess you’re right. But forgive me for wanting to live in a world where I get paid loads of money and fuck good looking girls every day. A man can dream, can’t he?”

  The three of us burst out laughing and the drinks continued to be drained as the night went on. I began to lose track of both the time and the growing hunger pains in my gut. Everything started to become a blur. The alcohol was really starting to hit me, and the conversations were getting stranger and stranger.

  “I’m telling you, I wouldn’t mind getting with a lizard chick. They look like they know what they’re doing. Call me crazy, but it’s their eyes. They have these fuck-me eyes,” Pea Shooter said as I continued to go in and out of
consciousness. It wasn’t like I was out cold or anything, but I was definitely not a hundred percent there. Like the saying goes, the lights were on, but nobody was in.

  “Baseball was good a couple thousand years ago, but not anymore. Not now they have those damn bots,” Spooks said, coming back around for another few seconds. I took two more sips of my beer and relaxed into my chair.

  “This chicken tastes like the stuff my aunt used to make before she died from food poisoning.” I said, a platter of meat magically now in front of me, the three of us tucking into it like rabid animals.

  The room was spinning but I still managed to stay conscious, if not completely hammered.

  “You think they’ll bring back Twinkies? I found one in my garage. It was eight hundred years old. I ate it and want to know where I can find more,” Pea Shooter said.

  It was the last thing I had heard before I heard no more. I was out like a power cut. I didn’t know it, but I’d fallen asleep face down in the plate of chicken bones in front of me. Somebody was nice enough to carry me back to my bunk, but evil enough to draw a moustache on my face with a marker pen.

  Oh the joys of being on leave, even if it was only for a day…

  Chapter Nine

  A new day

  I woke up with a side-splitting headache that felt like my skull was being ripped into two by one of those reptilian dinosaur pets I’d encountered back on Tribeca. But there weren’t no dinos on board the mothership. There was just me, sweating profusely in my bed, sitting up, about to be sick.

  “Jesus Christ,” I muttered, getting up off my bed and making haste toward the toilets where there were three people taking a piss at the urinal. They were sober. I was hung-over. And now I was diving into one of the stools and hanging off the rim of the toilet seat.

  As if a switch had been flicked within me, a huge stream of fluorescent green vomit came trundling out of my gaped mouth. The noises I was making weren’t human in nature. They were animalistic. Like a poacher shooting a rhino and it screaming in pain, gunk and saliva dribbling down its chin as it collapses on the desert floor right before they cut the poor bastards head off for a trophy.

  That’s what it felt like. A hangover like no other. I’m usually a pretty resilient guy, but this was something else. And as I hung over the rim of the toilet bowl, puking my guts up, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around, spittle on my chin, a pain throbbing in my head, and saw Spooks standing tall behind me. He was holding a washrag in his right hand and was gesturing me to get up with his left.

  “You look rough kid. Wash your face and then hit the showers. You’re needed,” he said, handing the towel to me as I got to my feet and flushed the toilet.

  I felt unsteady on my feet but tried my best to remain composed. I didn’t want Spooks to see me like this. I’d proven myself worthy on the battlefield, and the last thing that I wanted to do was mess it up by showing how much of a lightweight I was. I know it sounds stupid, and I agree, but you’d be surprised at how fast people can change their minds on you here in the Marines. One minute you could be everybody’s cup of tea, the next you could be sour milk. It was just how things went.

  “Who could possibly need me in this state?” I asked, wiping my face with the towel. I could see crusts of vomit on the fabric as I pulled it away from my face. The sight nearly made me vomit once again.

  “The brass wants to talk to you. If I was you, I’d get cleaned up, and dressed into something presentable. This is an important day, kid. You might as well relish in it,” he said, turning back around and making his way toward the door.

  “Important day? What are you on about?” I said, standing there for a few seconds, wondering what the heck was going on.

  As my mind raced with all sorts of possibilities, I took my clothes off and hopped into the shower, washing away the filth that seemed to be coating me. Whatever was going on, it was big. And it concerned me, or Spooks wouldn’t be telling me to get dressed accordingly. I washed myself down and tried to wake myself up. It was a struggle, but after ten minutes I felt half human again.

  After stepping out of the shower, I made my way to the mirror and gave myself the once over. It was remarkable really, I looked so different compared to what I’d looked like maybe two months ago. It was a slow change, but I’d been noticing it. Before, I had quite a young looking face. You couldn’t get an inch of stubble to grow on it. But now, now my face was no longer smooth and soft. It was rough and rugged. I don’t know what’d caused the transformation, but I do know that I preferred this look. I remember when I first started my training at boot camp, all the guys would call me squirt, most likely due to my baby-face, but now they just called me Jensen, so I guess the stubble was helping me fit in here.

  I dried myself off with the towel and put some clothes on. I decided to put on my service uniform. I didn’t know why I was being summoned to the brass, but if I’d turned up in slacks and a shirt, I don’t think I’d be invited again. It was always best to try and impress your superiors, not make them think twice about interacting with you. Being summoned to see the guys at the top was a big deal. You just didn’t get invited to the table for a chat. If they wanted to see you, it was because something big was in the works.

  I had a few ideas as to what they might want to talk to me about, but my mind was racing far too much to be able to pinpoint exactly what they might have wanted. Besides, I was nervous, and nerves were always a decent way to cloud your mind with useless thoughts. And I had plenty of those swimming around in my head. So there was no point in trying to tame them. It was like a jungle in there. Plenty of dense material for the scary predators with sharp teeth to lurk in and wait.

  “You ready yet?” I heard Spooks say, he’d walked back into the shower room to see me standing in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection.

  I didn’t know if he could see the complete terror that sat dead centre in my eyes, but I did know that I could see it. It was as clear as day. Like a bright light shining in the darkness of space, it would soon flicker out, and not much would remain. That’s how I felt about this whole ordeal. What was waiting for me once the light went out?

  “Hey, Jensen, you hearing me?” Spooks said, walking up beside me.

  I turned around and nodded. My expression must have deepened, because he looked a little unconvinced.

  “I wouldn’t worry, son. This is good news. The top never summon lowly recruits unless they want to shower them with praise. So if I was you, I’d wipe that frightened look off your face, take a few deep breaths and compose yourself.”

  I blinked a few times, my eyes felt sticky but then I nodded my head in understanding. I guess I was terrified of what the bosses wanted with me. In my experience, the only time you got summoned to see a Commander was when you were about to get chewed out.

  “Thanks. Sorry about this, I get nervous when I have to stand in front of men in suits!” I said, smiling at Spooks. But he didn’t smile back. To my surprise, he shook his head. An unmistakable look of annoyance fell across his face.

  “You get nervous? Are you shitting me, recruit? You just survived a hardened tour on an alien planet and amassed a respectable confirmed kill rate. You have nothing to be nervous about, unless you get scared at the thought of a promotion!”

  I frowned.

  “A promotion? You think they are going to bump me up?” I asked.

  Spooks nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world to him.

  “Of course they are. Word has got around about you, son. You’ve proved yourself, much like many of the men in the squad today. The brass know when they have someone mouldable in their hands. Someone they can shape into a leader. The Marines need leaders, Jensen. Leaders that take men into battle and come out victorious. Plus, we get new recruits all the time. There can’t be a million privates running around the battlefield without a couple thousand squad leaders,” Spooks said.

  I glanced at him and then at the mirror. I caught a glimpse of my eyes a
nd saw that the light in the centre of them was still flickering brightly. I nodded my head and turned toward the door.

  “So I guess it’s time to see what they want,” I said.

  Spooks put his arm around me, squeezed and grinned.

  “Can’t be late now. We’ve got reptiles to kill today. Don’t want the party to start without us,” he said.

  We both walked out of the changing rooms and made our way toward the big office on top deck. As I walked, Marines stopped going about their business and stared at me. Most of them were curious as to what was going on, while others smiled at me like they knew something I didn’t. All I knew though was that I couldn’t reach top deck fast enough. I wanted to get this over and done with.

  Whatever this was…

  ***

  Spooks knocked on the hardwood door and a voice summoned us in. The doors opened and him and I made our way into the large room. It was dimly lit and spacious. There wasn’t much of anything in the room other than a massive hologram table, chairs all around the table, bookshelves against the walls and a few dozen staring faces. I swallowed hard as Spooks led me toward a spot in front of the huge table. And to my surprise, standing near me was Pea Shooter. He didn’t acknowledge me. He was too preoccupied with crapping his pants. It seemed as if he was just as nervous as me. I just hoped that I was handling it better than him. He had the sweats and was visibly antsy. To the leaders sitting opposite us, it must have looked quite ridiculous, two men quivering in anticipation of what lay in wait for them. I still had no idea what was the deal, but I did know that it couldn’t be too bad, seeing that disciplining troops was left to the Sargent’s, not the higher-ups.

  “You two can relax,” one of the men sitting at the table said. He had a calm air about him. He also had a warm smile. A smile that not many men I knew even possessed. It was the sort of smile that was found on your mother’s face as she cradled you as a child. Not a fully grown man addressing two of his subordinates.