Brentaal IV Militia Armory

"Listen up!" boomed Serjeant Celwik. "We have reports of Tick incursions at the poles and near the equator. Our company has been tasked with securing positions on the east side of Cormond. Get the slag out and kit up."

 

Eelat Celwik was a Brentaal native, like most of the planetary militia. She'd grown up on the outskirts of Cormond, on a farm established by the Republic Futures Program, and worked as a gardener in her civilian life. When the invasion tones had sounded, she - and the thousands of others who made up the Brentaal System Defense Forces - had rushed to their assigned armories.

 

"Rho, quit messing around with your comm set! If it doesn't work, draw a new one!"

 

"Almost got it Sarge!" replied the dusky youngster. "This is the best set, she's just a little finicky, that's all."

 

"You've got two minutes."

 

Controlled chaos reigned as arms racks were emptied, lockers filled with civvie clothing, and rucks stuffed with everything from rations to thermal detonators. Finally, the platoon marched out of the armory to join their company.