MAKING A FEW CHANGES

Posted on Tue May 5th, 2015 @ 10:33am by Major David Lorenz

Mission: Breaking New Ground
Location: MARINE COMMAND CENTER, WARDROOM

0500 was time that all Marines were up, showered, and shaved, standing tall and looking good. David Lorenz led by example, up at the asscrack of dawn, dawn being a relative term in outer space. The twenty-six hour day was a bitch to get used to unless you had already done it beforehand. Lorenz was an old pro, and he entered the messhall, secretly amused as the entire cadre sprang to their feet at the call of "ATTEN-HUH! OFFICER ON DECK!"

"As you were!" David ordered, moving to the chow line. Gone was the replicator that nourished the crews of starships for decades, replaced by the traditional cafeteria-style serving line that was supplied by the replicators. Dave selected sausage patties, pancakes, and Archadian fruit from the line, making sure to grab a tall glass of Tang and his usual mug of Holbridge's Mud, a blend of coffee Jim had programmed into the station's huge replicator database.

Food in hand, David made his way to a table of Marines and smiled. "Good morning, gentlemen! Is this seat taken?"

"Have a seat, major!" a first sergeant said heartily. ".....so there I was, up to my ass in Jem'Hadar gleefully chopping their way through the new slick-sleeve grunts we had just got to reinforce our left flank. I was madder than Hell and not thinking very clear, so I stepped up to the heavy gun, sat my dumb ass in the hot seat, and started blasting 'em to Hell and gone. The platoon leader saw that I made a hole and the crazy fucker led a charge up to the bunker and got the charges planted before a goddamned Houdini-mine fragged his ass."

"Where was this at, First Sergeant?" Lorenz asked, forking some food into his mouth.

"Chin'Toka, sir. You were there, yes?"

Lorenz nodded. "When you guys blew that power bunker, you started a cascade reaction that dropped quite a few Houdini mines offline. The one that got your platoon leader must have been on a different power grid. My company and I were able to move onto our objective thanks to you. Well done!"

"First Sergeant Julio Vega, sir. Pleasure to be under your command."

Lorenz nodded.

"You know the station commander, sir?"

"I led a Marine detachment on the Oppenheimer under his command, so yes. He's a good officer, I'd follow him into Hell carrying a glass of water." Lorenz shoveled more chow into his mouth, then washed it down with a gulp of coffee.

Vega chewed his own food thoughtfully. "They say there are some admirals on the station looking to crucify him and Admiral Hawke. That is a bitch move, begging' the major's pardon."

Lorenz looked at Vega and smiled. "Agreed, sergeant, but you know rumors and scuttlebutt have no basis in reality, especially in the 3rd Marine regiment. We have new things to worry about, like upgrading our weapons and deploying to forward areas. You can tell your troops that our new weapons are here. All field gear will be turned in for upgraded equipment at 0700."

A round of "Hoorah" and "Hell yeah's" went up from the table. Nothing made a Marine's day like being issued new gear, and the table full of NCO's would make sure that the grunts had their gear in record time.

Lorenz rose from the table and took his tray to the recycler. Time to go to work, he smiled.

COMMANDING OFFICER'S OFFICE SUITE
0730 HOURS

Morning PT was getting harder as he got older, but Dave still managed to finish ahead of many of the snot-nosed slick-sleeves and baby sergeants. Jesus, when did I get old? he wondered as he made his way to his inner office, nodding at his admin people.

"Good morning, Major," WO1 Brooks said as he entered Lorenz's office carrying a padd and a mug of coffee, setting both down on Dave's desk. "The new gear is here and Sgt. P'Trell and his goons are distributing it now. Your new combat vest, rifle, and other gear is in your locker awaiting your gentle touch."

Lorenz glared at Brooks. "If you shaved your legs, you would make an ugly wife, Brooks!" he said with a growl.

"Is that a proposal, sir?" Brooks fired back as he left the room.

Dave rolled his chair to his locker behind his desk and opened it up. A brand-spanking-new Type-IIIc phaser rifle rested in its cradle along with a new 3p pistol in a new holster. The combat vest hung on a hanger and was festooned with pockets that held spared phaser rifle and 3p magazines, photon grenades, a combat tricorder, and a set eye shields that doubled as combat visors. Dave pulled the rifle and inspected it, pulling the charging handle to check the levels.

Jim's gun shops got it right, as always! Dave grinned. During the wild days of NGSC Team One, Jim and Dave had designed and fabricated custom phaser rifles based on the III-C frame. This rifle had the exact same look and feel of the guns Jim had made, prompting Dave to inspect the butt stock. There was the inscription, just like always. To Major Lorenz; The best goddamned Maine I know, now and always. Jim and Co.

Dave had to smile at his friends gift, locating and piecing together the original rifle they had made for Team One. The gun had been lost...

"Major, incoming call for you from Chief Harrison, sir!" Brooks called, beating he automated duty officer's voice to the punch.

Lorenz wondered if Brooks had lobotomized the automated duty officer AI just to keep his job. "Jesus Christ, Brooks, let the fucking machine do its job!" Lorenz griped. "Lorenz here, Quentin."

=/\= The guns are pretty good, major. Did ye get Jimmy-boy's gift? He sent me old gun as a present, completely restored o' course! =/\=

"That I did, Q! That sonofabitch is full of surprises! Make sure you let the armorer's in on the mods lest they get blown up!"

=/\= Aye, major. Harrison out =/\=

Dave went back to his desk and activated his holo-viewer. A display of forward bases leaped into the air. Lorenz took note of the sparseness, not liking it at all. Station security could repel invaders rather handily, leaving several companies of Marines free to deploy. The question was, where could they deploy. Dave called up the permissions list and order book to see if there were any places he couldn't contaminate with a pack of dirty, gun-toting grunts. The only place that frowned on forward areas was Archadia Prime itself. "Brooks!"

"You bellowed, my liege?" Brooks replied as he appeared

Dave pointed at the map. "We need to get some forward bases built and staffed. I don't like the idea of holing up on this station and waiting for bad guys to show up."

"Funny you should mention that, sir, because there is a request for forces from Intelligence for squads to garrison their hidey-holes along with firebases and other forward areas in your morning brief." Brooks pointed at the padd on the desk.

Dave picked it up and read. "Not too bad, only a two company reduction on the base. I want six firebases built and set 10 million KM out at all the compass points. Two-platoon garrison, heavy guns, and we'll see if Major Smith wants to keep some flyboys there as well. Get the orders out, copies to Colonel Harris and General Thompson for review."

Brooks nodded. "Wilco, major. Next item on the list, Command wants a Rapid Response Force. Ideally made up of Recon and some fast movers."

Lorenz shook his head. "I want Security in on this, too. Oz is a good officer, she learned a lot from Chief Harrison, despite hating his guts. Shoot a request for forces to Zeferino, but leave Harrison's name off of it. Also drop a line to Major Smith. Fast movers would be a good thing in an RRF."

"Aye aye, mon capitaine!" Brooks responded. "Last thing, reception on Archadia for all Marine bigwigs, unit commanders, and assorted scum. Black tie, two weeks from today, 1800 hours. Wear clean skivvies and iron your monkey suit, sir."

"Not going, Brooks. I hate social events"

"General Thompson asked me to remind the major of his standing order on diplo-geek functions and that attendance was mandatory, lest the officer in absentia find himself in deep shit!" Brooks said neutrally. "Read ver batim, major."

"There are times I hate you, Brooks! Dismissed."

Dave went back to planning the forward base deployments, wondering how Quentin would like the northernmost forward area.

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Major David Lorenz
Sorting It All Out