Outpost 1

The Tip

We had to drop off the wounded and resupply at Outpost 5. It was sparsely occupied and often referred to as the Red Lands retirement home because of the predominance of older techs and soldiers to maintain the facility. It was a quiet assignment usually reserved for those nearing retirement age.

I was taking a late lunch at my desk inside 189 when I heard the sound of boots approaching my office. Hoping someone was just passing by I tried to ignore the sound until they stopped in front of me.

"Got a second? I have some info you need to hear about." Sandy said just as she plopped herself down on the seat by the wall.
"Sure! As soon as I finish my lunch.."
" It's important. I had a long conversation with Trevor. Ummm... " she gave me a fake smile and waited as I finished my mouthful.
Taking one more bite I then slid the rest of my meal into my desk drawer and closed it reluctantly.
"If you're here to ask for a raise I gotta tell you -your timing sucks AND you should never interrupt the boss in the middle of lunch. Ever."
"Sorry Joe."
"So what's this all about?"
       "One of Trevor's friends sent him a message asking if he was going in on the 'Liberation of Phobos' !"
        "Liberation of Phobos? That has a funny sound to it. Almost sounds like a legitimate cause. What does that- oh wait ....you mean they're planning on trying to take Outpost 1 AGAIN ?!! You gotta be kidding me."
         "Trevor says the main force is already in place. His friend was trying to get him involved in the secondary group which is basically the occupational force."
        "Are you sure of all this? I mean an attack on Outpost 1 is almost expected but they know it always fails."
         "Yeah I know first hand remember? Look I'm just passing on what I've heard. If you don't want to hear all this I can pretend I never heard it?"
        "No, no I'm glad you're telling me. What did Trevor tell his friend?"
        "He hasn't replied yet."
        "So obviously they have no clue he's defected?"
        "The Brotherhood isn't all that organized. It would be easy for them to be in disarray after the carpet bombing."
"Yes I could see that. I guess they'd also be out for revenge."
"Trevor suggested he'd be willing to go in as a sort of mole if Red Lands Security could guarantee immunity for his past involvement in the Brotherhood."
"That's a smart move on his part. I don't have the authority to guarantee it but I think I can call in a favor. Lyle owes me one.".
"So should he ?"
"Yes! I'll have to let one of the higher ups know and to keep his identity quiet. We don't have time to waste. When is this attack supposed to take place?"
"He doesn't know. Could be anytime really."
       "Well how does he know they'll need an occupying force?"
      "He's heard all the factions have made a tentative alliance and since this is their first joint venture they're sending in all their best. He says his friend sounds pretty positive they'll succeed."
" I'll have to  let Major Dome know."
        Dialing Outpost Ones number  I waited. There was no answer. He tried a direct number to the Control Room knowing the Operator had to answer. It was manned all hours of the day or night. The phone rang and rang and..........
"This warning might already be too late. Something's definitely wrong."
         Without another word Sandy called Trevor. " Trevor? Can you get in on the second group? We think Outpost 1 is down and we'll need an inside man."

__________ ___________ __________

     Trevor took a seat in the dilapidated old time troop carrier. The condition of the vessel was so bad that they were told to have their helmets on at all times because the integrity of the cabin could not be guaranteed.
      The seats were lined against the walls and cargo restraints held down 2 older lightly armed Sand Skimmers. There were jump seats  on either side of him and along the opposite wall were seated young mercs dressed in various worn uniforms of different factions. The only identifying piece common to them all was a red and gray armband. The colors that represented the old flag of the defeated Rebels. A flag no one has seen in years. The new armbands were handed out to everyone as they boarded.
         He scanned the faces of nervous young mercs many who seemed too young to be involved in the last war. The only exceptions happened to be two people he recognized by name-Lon Pie  and Aaron Macanese.
Lon Pie was deep in thought. She was worried about the kids she was leaving behind in the care of others and the uncertainty of this last minute venture to Phobos. It had been years since she'd last worn a uniform but the worn jacket and the hard earned stripes gave her comfort. She would catch more than a few new mercs looking at her rank enviously.
          She'd thought that her days as a wartime interrogator were long over. But these were tough times that required tough sacrifices. The promise of such a large sign up bonus was too tempting to pass up. They wanted her skills badly because bonuses were usually unheard of .The reality of it was only beginning to sink in. Hearing the outside hatch automatically lock she knew there was no turning back now.
       The craft began to shake and rumble as  its engines came to life. Lon Pie began to pray quietly but her words were drowned out by the roar beneath their feet. She hated flying.
Seated by an oval window, Aaron turned away from the glowing  image of flames bursting below outside. He lowered the shades of his helmet and closed his eyes attempting to place himself in a meditative state. As a veteran of the Martian Conflicts he had been through this same scenario many times. But this was the first time he would be with the Rebel factions.
It troubled Trevor that he couldn't see the friend who had first informed him of this job to begin with. He had  assumed he would be here. But it was of no consequence. It was probably best that he didn't know most of his cohorts. It was difficult enough without having to think about betraying the trust of people he knew personally.
Halfway there their unit commander came to the back. He banged the bulkhead a few times just to get everyone's attention.
"LISTEN UP !!! We just got word that the first wave was successful! Commander Kayunapuk is now in control of Outpost 1!" A small cheer and a few isolated spots of applause broke out on the floor.
       "I would say it's time to celebrate but in reality we need to think about what Red Lands Troops will be doing next. It will be just a matter of time before they respond. "
        "What were the casualties Sir?" Someone asked from the back.
        "Minimal casualties on both sides. The present count is 10 of ours and 7 of their Security folks who decided to play hero. We took them during Christmas when they were minimally staffed. We have most of the Red Lands Station personnel in a makeshift prison and a guarded skeleton crew to keep things running. Sorry don't have more details. I just wanted to let you know. Hopefully we're  well on the way to Martian Independence."
         Trevor went back to his seat. Looking out the window he could see the dark red marble that was home shrink and fall away slowly. He knew that once he got to Phobos covert communication with Sandy would become very dangerous.
The trip to Phobos went without incident but due to the noise verbal communication was difficult to say the least. As could be expected everyone would tend to gravitate to the rebel faction they already belonged to. There were many differences in their long term goals and belief systems. Differences that could potentially fracture this hastily constructed alliance.
         It was a long journey to reach Phobos. It was pure misery mixed in with short fragments of sleep and long intervals of pure boredom. Not unlike an awkward family reunion comprised of people who all felt obligated to be there.
         We were all thankful when we finally landed, disembarked and were ushered into the main entrance lobby of the living quarters of Outpost 1. Inside we were greeted by a man in a dark gray overcoat. His pale face was hidden in the shadow of his brimmed hat. Taking it off and laying it gingerly on a nearby table he slapped the table top abruptly to get our attention. A smug look of disgust was evident as he looked at our mixed crew.
          "My name is Vince Baxter. I see you all made it here in one piece. Have any of you ever been here before or worked on any of the other Outposts?"
           Silence followed as the mercs looked around and no one answered.
          "Well that's just great." Baxter exclaimed in frustration as he rubbed his forehead  in thought. He puffed on his cigarette looking over the crowd.
          "Any thing wrong boss?" Asked a tall young mercs wearing the brown/tan uniform of the North Shoal Region.
         "Yes! I specifically asked for mercs with prior technical experience and obviously I've been sent a crew of grunts. I need a crew that can help run the daily operations of this facility."
          There was silence as they looked at one another. Their calloused hands, wrinkled faces and bent postures spoke for themselves. Most of them were the sons and daughters of miners, farmers and construction workers. Most of them lived the same hard lives as their parents. But Baxter was not impressed, a feeling he expressed as he stepped on the spent cigarette with his boot and ground it to pieces.
          After a minute Baxter looked at us and continued. "OK so for now I will have you work beside the eight Red Lands techs we are escorting under armed guard. They will be wearing their normal blue work uniforms. They provide maintenance and we've promised to release them unharmed once we get enough of our own people trained up. This is a complex facility and it's continued operation ensures we will have a dependable supply of water and oxygen . Are there any questions?" Hearing no response he turned and left quietly.