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Time To Launch

  My eyes flick open, and I stare at the off white ceiling above me. "Today's the day," I think, feeling more like a bundle of nerves than a functional human being. My body begs for the sleep that it failed to get when it had the chance; anxiety and dread and anticipation causing me to toss and turn all night, with only a toe in REM. Still, regardless of my low quality slumber, I'm still required to make my way to the hanger bay at O400 hours. Luckily, the TEPA's are designed to be slept in, and while I didn't normally wear it to bed, I had taken the opportunity to do so the night before, leaving mostly just quiet contemplation for the morning while me and Ko-lee ate our breakfasts. "It's only supposed to be like, three days, right?" I ask Ko-lee. "Hm?" she responds distractedly, her food half way to her mouth. I give her a moment to process what I said, rather than repeat myself. "Oh, yeah," she continues after a moment.

  "Thereabouts. The hike itself is only about eight hours or so. It might take a bit longer going in than coming out, because we'll be hauling supplies, but not by a lot. From my understanding, the bulk of the time should be spaceflight. From here to the junction, then through the blockade, and down to the planet." I already knew all of that from reading the info packet, but it's nice to get confirmation without needing to refer to the text. That, and I just want to fill the empty space. Ko-lee seemed preoccupied working through something in her mind though, according to her furrowed brows and the dead air. "You okay?" I ask, reaching out for her free hand. She takes it, and squeezes back, but her eyes are looking past me. "You seem a bit distracted."

  "...sorry," she says, after a moment. "I'm just thinking over my choices for squad leader." I nod, but I'm not fully convinced. "And it's totally not the poly thing?" I want to ask her. Still, now is absolutely not the right time to bring it up, and so I just continue the conversation as is. "Yeah, I don't know who'd be the best fit, honestly. I mean... maybe we could be the first squad to not have a squad leader. Break the mold, and all that," I joke. "Maybe," Ko-lee murmurs, her words low energy. We finish our breakfast in silence.

  Luckily, by the time we make it to the rest of the squad in the hanger, the funky morning mood has made way for a slightly lighter one. "Less 'on the gallows' type energy, more 'about to go on stage'. Technically an upgrade, I guess," I think bemusedly. "Space Trauma!" I say, projecting my voice as I approach the other three members of the squad. My voice bounces off the walls and ceiling of the hanger after a considerably delay, the relay itself echoing my own words back to me. "Space Trauma," I say at a much more reasonable level, "I hope you were all wearing your thinking caps last night. We've got something important we need to do, before our FO shows up. Someone must bear the Mantle of Responsibility." The subject is serious, but I attempt to deliver the lines with levity. From everyone's expressions, I miss the mark by a mile.

  Nobody says anything for a few long seconds, and eventually Caz steps towards the middle of the circle. "I guess I'll start then," he says awkwardly. "My vote is for Annie." I feel a weight settle in my stomach at his words, delivered as though they are a death sentencing. "Well... uhm. Okay," I say, as he steps back. I just about manage to stop myself from "thanking" him for his vote on pure reflex. "I am a bit curious about, like, why me, but that's maybe something we can do later. Explain our reasoning for why we're voting the way we did, sort of thing," I continue, a touch too quickly. I take a breath, trying to calm my heavily beating heart. "Uhm, I guess I'll go next. Mine's for Caz, and no, I'm not just voting for him 'cause he voted for me," I tell the squad.

  He furrows his brows, but I just give him him a shrug. Ella is the next in the clockwise rotation, and she straightens up, looking at all of us in turn before casting her vote. "Caz," she says, her tone somber. "Can we not do this like we're executing someone?" I ask, watching Caz's lips thin. "Recruit Nova is right," says someone off to our left, behind the dropship we're all gathered near. The owner of the voice rounds the corner, and I get a good look at the Tenno. He has blue eyes, and scruffy brown hair, and if somebody told me he worked at a surf shop down in Laguna Beach I don't think I would've batted an eye. "Being a squad leader is a responsibility, to be sure. But a competent squad will work as a unit. You succeed - or fail - together. That's weight's not the squad leader sole responsibility to bear, even if they are the one calling the shots." The Tenno reaches the end of his sentence, and leans against the side of the dropship casually.

  "I'm your temporary squad leader," says the man, with a relaxed demeanor. "You can call me Second Sergeant Letmin, or Sergeant. Just don't call me sir, it makes me feel old," he says with a grin. I bite my tongue to prevent the "sir" that had become a part of my vocabulary after the last six months from slipping out. "Please, don't mind me," he says, making a "continue" gesture with his hand. "Just pretend like I'm not here." I force my attention back to the squad, and to Ko-lee, who's next in line. She looks around at everyone in the squad, then finally, locks eyes with me. She doesn't say anything. "Why?" I ask. "You of all people know I'm not responsible enough for this." She gives me a smile. "I believe you once told me, 'if there is one thing you're good at, it is making plans'." I scoff with faux outrage. "How dare you repeat thing thing I told you! Why, I never!"

  I'm still nervous, but the goofy behavior and the Sergeant's words help lift the dour mood amongst the squad. Everyone's attention shifts to Rease, who's the last to vote, and the tiebreaker for me and Caz. "Well, I was gonna vote for Ko-lee actually," he confesses with a chuckle, "but I guess I have to pick one of these two instead." He looks back and forth between the two of us, his lips ever so slightly moving as he mouths something to himself. I have to remind myself to take a breath, and the 30 or so seconds it takes him to make a decision feel like hours. Finally, he nods as though having confirmed something to himself. "I'm voting Caz," he says, surety in his tone. Caz's shoulders slump, but Rease gives him a friendly pat on the back. Caz sighs dramatically before straightening up, and while it's clear in his eyes that he's not the most excited about the outcome of the vote, he still seems to be in good spirits.

  "Well, that was fun," says the Sergeant, after a few moments. "Recruit Caz, you're now the leader of Space Trauma." The Sergeant puts emphasis in odd places, making it sound more like "Speis Troma". Rease clarifies the pronunciation, and the Sergeant mouths it once before continuing. "Space Trauma. Right. Well, like I said, I'm just the temporary squad leader. Usually, the squad leader is point of contact between the squad and the commanding FO. I'm sort of playing both roles here, which normally wouldn't be the case. Just, try to pretend I'm not literally in arms reach, and talk to Caz if you need something. Caz, you are free to lead." The Sergeant gives him a thumbs up, but Caz doesn't respond immediately, breathing a touch too hard. He stares at all of us for a few seconds, but it doesn't seem like he's actually seeing us.

  "Caz," I say, and his gaze shifts to me. "Listen man. I really do think you can do this. I didn't just vote for you to counter your vote or anything. You... I'll be honest, you were a bit of a prick when you first joined." It gets a chuckle out of him, and I smile before continuing. "But you relaxed, and you opened up. Remember that first match we played against Amarast? My plan was just 'shoot them fast', but you came up with something real, something solid. It was killer man, and it didn't just win it for us. It won it easily. I honestly think you're the right fit for this role." I shoot him a cheeky grin before finishing. "Besides, if you fuck it up, we can always just vote for someone else." There's a bit of laughter from the other squad mates, and I see Caz relax just a hair, smiling and nodding.

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  "Alright," says the Sergeant, straightening up. "As you've all been informed, Mars is currently undergoing a pretty massive power struggle. It was in the hands of the Corpus until very recently, and is now currently transitioning into the hands of the Grineer. It's their blockade that we'll be moving through, but they don't have the logistics in place to be very thorough. Still, that point in the operation is likely to be the most dangerous, even if that danger is minimal. Otherwise, the rest of the operation should go smooth." The Sergeant gives us all a relaxed smile. "Soon-to-not-be Recruits, it's time to load up. Let's stay out of the light, yeah?" He gives Caz a nod, and Caz reciprocates, a small "yeah" in response. "Yeah, okay," says Caz, a little louder, before turning to us.

  "Space Trauma, let's... let's recap on the mission directives. We are delivering supplies to an outpost behind enemy lines. We'll be taking a dropship, piloted by... uhm." Caz falters, and the Sergeant's voice echos out from the belly of the dropship. "That's me, pulling triple duty on this one," he says. "Piloted by Second Sergeant Letmin," continues Caz, with confidence. "Are there any questions?" I raise my hand. "Yeah, how are we actually getting through the blockade? Like, what's the plan there?" There's silence for a moment as Caz's eyes shift back and forth, clearly reading off a message from the Sergeant. "So, the dropship we're taking," says Caz, gesturing to the ship behind him, "is one of theirs that we were able to obtain a while ago. If we're lucky, then they'll scan the ship, and it'll be let through automatically. If we're unlucky, they'll stop us and ask for a confirmation of identity. The corresponding info is listed within the ship, and it'll all take part over radio. So the long and short is, you'll do nothing, and I'll do all the hard work."

  We all chuckle, and Ella raises her hand. "What are we delivering, specifically?" she asks our squad leader, after he gestures at her. "Mostly the standard equipment. Rations, ordinance, that sort of thing. Their last few broadcasts have been a bit fuzzy during check in, so we're bringing them some extra transmitter parts as well to hopefully get that cleaned up." He waits for a few moments, but nobody seems to have any further questions. "Great. Well, Space Trauma, let's move out." We all make our way into the bulbous spaceship, stenciled with faded Grineer lettering. My eyes take in the outside one more time before I step on. The ship doesn't have any guns, but entire thing is coated in excess, mismatched armor; patch jobs on patch jobs making the already lumpy form of the ship even more of a mess. "One of these days I'll get to climb into a Liset," I think, before a thought occurs to me. "Wait, can a non-warframe even get in one of those things? They don't really have doors, just the magnetic spinny thing. Double wait! The TEPA has magnets in it! Does that count? Can I board a Liset? Hmm."

  My mind mulls on the idea, as I get a glance of the inside of the ship. The dropship is basically one big empty room, with a small ladder leading up to a tiny gangway that stretches across the back, and to the door that leads to a barely-big-enough-for-two cockpit. It could be described as roomy, but with the six of us, and a months supply of rations, spare electronics, and ordinance on multiple hovercarts, there's not a lot of wiggle room to be had. "Still more leg room than Alaskan economy," I think, before smiling at the thought. "All those lectures, and now we're finally getting out in the field. Hell yeah," says Rease, squeezing his large frame into one of the seats underneath the gangway. "Maybe you'll finally learn something," I joke. He just kicks back with a smile on his face. "What can I say, I'm a hands on learner," he responds, shooting me a wink. I try to ignore the flush I feel creeping up my neck towards my cheeks.

  "I'm glad we had as many classes as we did," Ella retorts. "This would've been overwhelming otherwise. I've never been on a spaceship, minus the one that took me up to Strata." Rease gives her a shrug. "Yeah, that much book learning was new for me. I'm used to just going for it, you know? 'Learning on the job' was what my mom called it." I chuckle. "Yeah, maybe not when it involved guns though," I respond. He looks at me quizzically. "No, they definitely involved guns." His matter of fact delivery makes us all laugh, and it helps break up the last few bits of tension with the squad. We all do our best to make ourselves as comfortable as we can in the bucket seats while the ship's engines rumble to life. "Alright Recruits, buckle up. Except for you, SL. I want you here, up front with me. Got some stuff I wanna talk to you about," says the Sergeant, crooking his finger towards Caz. Caz freezes half way to buckling, and undoes the one strap he'd had already buckled, before squeezing his way past the cargo, and climbing the up the ladder to the gangway, and to the cockpit of the ship.

  "And then there were four," I think, as the ships does it's best to shake itself apart. "Probably a lazy manifold bypass," says Rease, his ear cocked to the ship. "Shit patch job. I hope it was the Grineer and not one of us. Gallos rod reflux can cause a ship to explode." It's at that moment the ship starts to lift off the ground, and the sudden jolt of movement causes me to gasp in panic for a moment, my mind convinced that we were in the process of exploding. Rease laughs, and Ko-lee shoots him a flat look, as the ship slowly pulls out of the hanger. "Don't joke like that," she tells him, her words short. "I wasn't joking though?" he responds, confused. Ko-lee's mouth forms a silent O, and I feel the shift in my stomach as the ship slowly rotates us in the correct direction. Unlike the the previous dropship I'd been in, this one doesn't have any windows, but there are screens welded to the metal bars holding up the gangway, with physical buttons that allow me to change to various camera views on the outside of the ship.

  I flick through camera after camera until I land on one that's pointed in the opposite direction we're travelling, and I watch as we drift out of the hanger and into space. The hanger is shrouded behind a glowing blue forcefield keeping in the air, which I now know is basically a specifically tuned version of the shield tech we're all wearing on our bodies. The relay itself fills the frame, growing and growing in size as we continue to coast. "Fuck me that thing is big," I think, getting a chance to really take in the enormity of the orbital platform I had just spent nearly half a year on. Finally, it manages to fit all in frame at once, and I watch as it moves from taking up one hundred percent, to ninety percent, to fifty, to thirty, to ten. It shrinks and shrinks, until it's barely an inch long, then to the size of a pixel, then a subpixel, and then finally, nothing at all. During the entire time I was watching the relay, the blue, white, and brown planet behind it never seemed to change size at all, nor the did the stars around seem to move. Without the right frame of reference, it had honestly looked like the relay itself shrank out of existence. I continue staring at the infinite for a bit, until Rease pokes me in the back.

  "It's gonna be a few hours," he says. I tear my eyes away from cosmic darkness to look at him. He's crumpled up in his seat in what looks like an incredibly uncomfortable position. "Few hours until what?" I ask. "Until we hit Lalande junction. Until then, it's just stars." My gaze shifts back to the monitor. "Yeah well, stars are cool," I counter. He just snorts out a laugh. "Terior," he says, his eyes closed. He'd taught us a few slang terms from his smuggling days, and terior was an insult for those who spent most of their life planetside. There's no heat behind his words though, and I smile. "Tractor jockey," I shoot back. Then I turn back to the camera, to watch as we drift through the black.

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