Another Day in the Life

[Manitou]

Thought I would throw my efforts into the fray! Enjoy all!

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Some days it just doesn�t pay to get up. The tent flap had opened during the night and the early morning dew had immediately taken advantage of the opportunity to invade what little comfort he had carved out of the occasion. His clothes were damp and cold, and he had forgotten to store his only pair of socks away somewhere covered; they were damp like everything else. Damp socks on a cold day makes for a miserable wake up call. He sat there for a moment, trying to clear the cobwebs that had taken up residence in his head while he had slept. The night had run late. His squad had been scheduled as the back up crew for the night-ops raid into the northern finger of land on the continent of Amerish. The tip of land seemed to point at a small island just off the coast like a crooked finger making an accusation. It had been reported that a Terran Republic landing force of some size had been dropped here a few days ago and were attempting to establish a small outpost. New Conglomerate headquarters had chosen this opportunity to shove the TR out and to possibly capture some of the Terran Republic soldiers for informational purposes. Flynt wasn�t real thrilled with the idea of camping out here in the woods for any length of time. He wasn�t new to the rigors of war. He was a veteran of the Terran Republic and a battle tested warrior. He had a lot of campaign ribbons in his closet attesting to his bravery and his ability to fight well. But this was different because he was not fighting for the Terran Republic any longer. He was a stalwart member of the New Conglomerate army and had thrown his lot in with these freedom fighters totally. It had been a tough thing to do; he had left a lot of close friends behind who had elected to stay with the Terran Republic. He didn�t really hold a great animosity toward them; he just felt they did not have true freedom like he now had. That thought actually saddened him somewhat. One Outfit in particular he had close ties with: the Clan Draconus Lupus Outfit, or CDL. He had a close relationship with this group of hardy warriors. They had shared many experiences together and it was tough to think he might actually have to face them in combat some day and kill one of them. He rubbed his unshaven face with his hands and knuckled his eyes, trying to push the tiredness away for another day. The war must go on as it had for these many months, and the New Conglomerate must free Auraxis from the iron grasp of the Terran Republic and the lunatic fringe of the Vanu Sovereignty. Throwing back the thin covering he had used as a blanket for the night, he shivered again and rubbed his shoulders as he stood up. The tent was fairly large and allowed up to five men to sleep within comfortably, albeit a little rough. Fortunately for Flynt, he had this tent all to himself as the rest of his squad was occupying the other two tents in the camp. Privileges of rank, he smiled to himself as the thought crossed his mind. He remembered Manitou talking of things like that. The one time he and the other Dragon Wolves had been sent on that suppression raid on Antaris IV. Manitou had taken the one tent as his own and Flynt had grumbled, unheard by anyone he had thought, about the arrangement. Manitou had overheard his mumbled comment and had tapped Flynt on the shoulder, smiled and said, �Privileges of rank�. Flynt laughed quietly and proceeded to get dressed and ready for suit up. The sounds of the camp stirring into wakefulness could be heard, and he hurried a little so that he was first to be at the camp center. Didn�t look good for the �boss� to be late!

The aroma of cooking bacon is one of those smells that always makes your stomach grumble. It has the odd ability to convince a person that they are hungry even when they had just eaten. In this case, none of the men had eaten since early yesterday afternoon, so their stomachs were more than grumbling. Flynt tossed the last of the slab of field bacon on the big griddle that was suspended over the synthetic fire. Sure, the New Conglomerate was free of the oppressive Terran Republic, but that didn�t mean they couldn�t make use of some of their excellent technology. Flynt used his fork and poked at the popping and crackling bacon cooking on the hot griddle. Some of the grease leapt up as he disturbed the frying bacon, rearranging it and flipping some of it. The sizzling sound seemed to be magical in nature as the men of his squad emerged from their tents and almost to the last man came over to stare at the cooking meat. Nobody said anything as yet, each wrapped up in the thought of eating breakfast. Flynt liked to prepare the breakfast for his men, as it seemed to be a good way of saying thanks to his hard fighting crew. They definitely never complained.
�Bacon cooking is like the best smell in the world, man,� commented one grizzled looking warrior. He had a nasty looking scar on his forehead that ran from his high hairline down to just in front of his right ear. The shell fragment that had done that to him had nearly killed him. Fortunately for him, their medic had reached him almost simultaneously and had been able to get it attended to quickly. The man stood there distractedly rubbing the scar and eyeing the cooking meat.
�Almost done, SandTrout. Just putting the finishing touches on my famous gourmet breakfast!� Flynt informs the nearly drooling soldier. The rest of the New Dawn crew chuckled and began the process of retrieving plates and eating utensils. The field kitchen they had established was very rudimentary, but met their needs as they were for right now.

The men all had finished their breakfast quickly, as soldiers are wont to do, and had also finished the task of clean up. Their equipment was stored and most of them were accessing the armor terminal at the AMS that had been airdropped earlier that week by an NC Galaxy. The rest of this continent had been under siege for some time, but it seemed the TR had relinquished it somewhat to the NC forces. So the small group of New Dawn warriors really didn�t need to be on top alert. They had perimeter guards set of course, but nothing elaborate yet. The men were all prepared as Flynt tossed back the flap of his tent and stepped out. He looked at his expectant men, and they looked at him. They were all ready to check the last section of their search grid today, and each one knew that if there were any enemy troops on this spit of land they would be camped there someplace. The little island situated near the tip of the finger of land jutting into the water wasn�t in their search grid, and that bothered Flynt a little. He was very thorough and disliked incomplete projects. But he was only authorized to search this area, so that was what he was going to do. Last night�s operations had yielded nothing in the way of enemy movement. They now were headed out for day ops and that entailed a whole new set of rules. Once everyone got geared up and ready, Flynt gathered his men and went over some final points. With that done, the men fanned out in patrol spacing and began the age-old art of �humping it� out into the bush.

---more to follow---