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Read about the Forgotten Spartan I Program
Butane: To protect the world from devastation!
sir_brilliant: To unite all people within our nation!
Rainman89: To denounce the evils of truth and love!
sir_brilliant: To extend out reach to the stars above!
SpaceGhostFlyer: Jessie!
Butane: James!
sir_brilliant: Team Rocket blasting off at the speed of light
Butane: Surrender now or prepare to fight
sir_brilliant: Meowth, that's right!
1600 Hours, May 15, 2525(Military Calendar)/
Epsilon Eridani System, Reach Military Complex, Planet Reach
“And be sure to keep them on the fitness regimen.”
“No prob LT,” Dominique answered.
“Oh, and if you see the Spartans again, use the same pairs as last time.”
“Ok boss,” O’Donnell replied.
Simmons was busy packing as he gave his orders out. The Doctor had given him six hours notice. Six hours. What was she thinking? As Simmons mused, Omni poked his head in the door.
“Hey boss, can I say something? Its about yesterday.”
“Yes Marine?”
“Its that Spartan girl, Linda. She’s amazing boss. She can see a grasshopper on a twig four hundred meters away, and if you asked her to, I think she could hit it. I’ve never seen anything like it sir.”
“While we’re on the topic, I think Sam knows more about those weapons than I do…” O’Donnell thought out loud.
“John’s no pushover either Lieutenant,” Dominique chimed in.
“Well, I’m glad you guys like the Spartans. We’re going to be seeing a lot of them.” With that Simmons waved off his men and hopped in his Warthog on his way to Fairchild Airfield.
The MP’s at the gate checked Simmons’ identification and thumbprint and he was ushered in. “Proceed to the passenger’s terminal Lieutenant.”
“Thank you Marine.” It turned out the ‘Passenger Terminal’ was a single prefab barracks, since the airfield specialized in fighter aircraft. In the terminal, Simmons sat down next to an eager young Second Lieutenant, who may well have graduated just hours ago.
“Sir!” the eager young Marine shouted.
“At ease,” Simmons said as he returned the salute.
“You headed to the Midsummer Night too sir?”
“How’d you know?”
“I think that’s the only outbound Pelican from here today.”
“Very observant Lieutenant. What are you doing on the ship kid?”
“I can’t tell you sir. My objective is classified.”
“I get a lot of that. Well, looks like its time to go.” The viewscreen flashed ‘Pelican Romeo Thirty Six Departing’ and Simmons and the new Marine ran out to the awaiting drop ship. Romeo Thirty Six was sitting on the pad out side the barracks burning its jets, and Simmons was forced to crouch up to the rear of the aircraft.
“Sir! I’m Chief Sanchez, and this is the direct route to the Midsummer Night! Take a seat and we’ll be off in a minute!” The Chief made last minute checks while Simmons and the Second Lieutenant strapped themselves into the crash seats and attached their duffels to the recessed D-rings in the floor. The door to the cabin was sealed, and Chief Sanchez was forced to ride in the back. As he cycled the hatch closed, the pilot’s voice came over the ship’s intercom.
“Romeo Thirty Six to Fairchild Control. Taking off from pad 9 and using orbital ascent pattern Delta.”
“Roger Romeo Thirty Six, radar is clear, you’re green to go.”
“The Captain likes to put the radio traffic over the intercom, so the passengers know what’s going on. It really helps the nervous fliers.” Sanchez explained. It appeared the young man next to Simmons was one of those nervous fliers.
“What’s your name kid?” Simmons asked.
“Lieutenant Roy, sir.” The young kid seemed about to lose his lunch right there at 50,000 feet, but he held it together.
“This your first trip to orbit Lieutenant?” The Crew Chief asked.
“Uh huh. Ohh…”
“My first time up, I blew chunks as soon as we hit zero gees. It floated around the cabin the rest of the flight, and it was a pain to clean, let me tell you.” Apparently Sanchez had prepared this story for just such an occasion. The concept of cleaning floating vomit didn’t appeal to Roy, so he resolved to hold it in.