Either way, you will continue in the Legion and do useful work. But if you want to serve ConFree and the Legion best, and to see history, and to make history, and to stand boldly in that thin black line, I urge you to give it all you've got, and never give up. My best advice for BT: Open your mind and close your mouth. We'll do right by you."
He said more – a lot more, but I didn't hear it. My mind was aflame. What was I doing here? How could I compete with the others? What should I do? Maybe I should have taken that ship back to Eugarat, my tail between my legs. But I didn't. I didn't. And he had called me "trooper". Maybe there was hope for me. Maybe.
Δ
"All right folks, let's get to know each other, shall we? Have a seat." We were back in the squadmod. Doggie gestured to the central table, and we cautiously slid on to the little benches, wondering what was coming next. After the welcoming ceremony, Doggie had marched us to a giant mess hall where we joined what seemed to be half the base for lunch. I looked around for Arie but didn’t spot him. Since none of us had eaten since the previous day, lunch was most welcome. We each were given a sealed hot tray full of delicious food, soup and salad and tasty meats and carbs and veggies and fruits. We had no choice of menus but we had no complaints either. I swear it was the best meal I had ever eaten – maybe just because I was starving. Doggie gave us 15 marks and then marched us back to the squadmod, directed us to use the heads and then ordered us to the table to sit and stay. Yeah, it sure looked like he was used to working with dogs.
"Normally," Doggie said, "I'd order ten minutes of strenuous exercises at this point, and watch you barf out your meals, just for my amusement. But just to show you what a nice guy I really am, we're going to do a social thing instead. I know a lot about each of you, but I'd like to hear more from yourselves. And I'd like each of you to get to know your comrades here in Delta Squad." He was leaning casually against a wall as we sat around the table. "It's all about teamwork, you see. And the teamwork is going to start right here. You seem to be a close-mouthed bunch. Let's see if anybody knows how to talk. I'd like each of you to say a little about yourselves. Name, where you came from, background, maybe why you signed up and what you hope to accomplish. Don't be too wordy. Just give us a brief summary."
Silence.
"Don't all speak up at once," Doggie said.
More silence.
"We can do the exercises if you'd like. All right, Overmar, we'll start with you. Speak."
Overmar was a young Outworlder male. I had wondered about him. He had dark brown eyes and deeply tanned flesh that spoke of years outdoors under the sun. There was something about him – a quiet confidence, an exceptional alertness and a sense of maturity and experience that set him apart from his colleagues. Or maybe it was just my imagination.
Overmar stirred, looked around carefully, and spoke softly, "My name is Harold Overmar," he said. He paused, calm and thoughtful, and resumed. "That's about it."
We burst into laughter. Even that frosty blonde honey cracked a smile. It was the first time I had seen her do that.
Doggie was also laughing. The guy is human after all, I thought. "All right," Doggie said. "Thanks for sharing that with us, Overmar. You'll be our mystery man for awhile. Moving right along – Surinto, how about you? And give us some details, all right?"
"Certainly," Surinto said. This was the fellow with olive skin. He was slender, his facial structure was delicate and his eyes were brown. From his shaven head, it appeared that his hair was black. "My name is Jarleman Surinto. I am from Veda. I recently graduated from the University of Victoria with a doctorate of science in human development. My thesis was on racial evolution in the Outworlder Diaspora."
We all sat there, stunned. Had we heard that right?
"Yes, I was puzzled when I saw that PhD in your