Getting the Band Together
Posted on Thu Jan 1st, 2026 @ 8:46am by 2nd Lieutenant Diska Wooz
Edited on on Sun Jan 4th, 2026 @ 8:12am
1,893 words; about a 9 minute read
Mission:
Episode 17 - Going Home
Location: SFMC Camp McQueen, Phobos
Timeline: MD025 1100 hrs.
Diska swore again, to herself, as she trotted around through the tunnels of Phobos that constituted part of the FMC training base. She and the bulk of the Cure, save for the senior officers and COB, had transported to Base McQueen to get prepared for the upcoming war-games that were going to take place on Mars.
From the tasking briefing she’d been given, she’d be leaving the Pioneer’s M-Detachment as part of a bigger set of scenarios while the Field grade officers were off having drinks with their feet up. She snorted with a small bit of humor as she saw the tell-tale that indicated her course and she cleared through the junction and into another long set of winding tunnels.
The O-course and track system on the Mar’s moon was notorious. There was over two hundred klicks worth of tunnels to run and get lost in if you weren’t paying attention. And even if you were paying attention, the DI’s and camp organizers would change things up. Ahead, her tunnel began rising to a near eight percent grade, and came to a climbing wall. She paused briefly as she took in the sheer rock face, then tightened her gloves and began working her way up. It was only a twenty meter climb, but there were gravity shifts the bast…er DI’s had set in that could catch you up if you weren’t careful.
Climbing to the top, she caught her breath for twenty seconds, then began running again. Now she was on a down grade and the footing below her booted feet was loose gravel and as the grade steepened, she had to slow.
Again, the gravity was shifting and several times over the next klick Diska felt her foot sliding when she pushed too hard. She hit a near double gravity well that sucked her in before she expected it and she tumbled across the loose gravel flooring, her chest working to pump air into her lungs as the breath was nearly knocked rom her lungs.
Scraped and battered she cursed again as she worked her way out of the well and back onto the course.
An hour later, she was taking a sonic shower in the VOQ (visiting officers quarters) she’d been assigned, eye covers in place as the sonic waves cycled over her, removing sweat, dead skin and grime alike. It also was exfoliating and she could feel her skin tingle as the waves cycled. A low beeping caught her attention and the shower cycle came to a stop. Peeling the eye covers off, a panel slid up revealing a comm’s screen and she frowned.
Did someone want a show?
She activated the comm’s voice only and said, “Lieutenant Wooz.”
“Lieutenant,” a crisp, authoritative voice said, “This is Captain Day with the camp command. Your presence is requested in the Camp Commander’s office in fifteen. No I can’t tell you why. Yes now.”
The comm winked off, the panel closing and Diska swore as she keyed the cycled complete and bolted for the wardrobe, her bare feet slapping on the cold polished stone floor. She was out the door in seven minutes adjusting belt and beret as she went. She didn’t bother trying to figure out what was going on. She had been given orders and she hadn’t been on the moon long enough to get into any trouble.
So it was either one of the Cure’s marines being precocious, or something was up.
Diska made it with a minute to spare, doing her best not to collide with any of the other camp personnel that were going about their duty.
Walking into the proscribed office, the dull grey walls (ceilings and deck as well, for that matter) that were common throughout the facility changed. Bright paint had been applied that was an off white and slightly luminescent, proving even more lighting that was closer to natural sunlight than was common throughout the base.
The duty officer, a lieutenant looked up as she approached. Took her measure with his eyes and asked, “Wooz?”
“Yes,” Diska answered simply, taking in the bustle of the camp office as enlisted personnel from privates up to a master gunner were all at desks or bustling about with a purpose.
In answer, the deeply tanned human lieutenant pointed at a door and said, “They’re waiting for you, but you’re on time.” He smiled to ease some of her tension, then went back to the terminal feed he was working on.
Moving to a door that read, ‘Colonel Mayfield, Camp Commandant,’ was actually stenciled on the door. More archaically a hand written sign, yellowed with age read, ‘Knock and Enter.’
Diska took a few beats to straighten her uniform and beret, rub the toes of her boots on the back of her slightly aching calves then knocked on the door and opened it (it had an actual door-knob…). She stepped through, closed it behind her and stepped up to the prescribed distance in front of a large, metal desk that might was likely older than Diska was. She stood to attention and said crisply, “Lieutenant Wooz reporting as ordered. Sirs.”
She pluralized the last as she briefly caught the eyes of a human woman that probably was near fifty years old who was THE Colonel Eloise Mayfield who manned the desk like it was a weapons platform. The older woman’s dark black eyes and only just greying black hair was right, tight and correct by any of FMC standards.
Colonel Mayfield took in the lieutenant and decided she’d do. She was painfully young, but then almost everyone at the camp that wasn’t part of the senior cadre was.
“At ease, Lieutenant Wooz,” Elly said as she gave the junior officer a thirty second going over. “And grab a seat. I’m busy so I’ll cut to the chase. This is Captain, Tesha Froyce of Star Fleet.” The blonde woman, in a simple fleet uniform smiled at Diska, but kept her seated position, but her sharp blue eyes measured Wooz just as sharply as the Colonels were.
“A tasking has come down for a rather specialized assignment, lieutenant. Are you prepared to take a frag order?” Colonel Mayfield asked.
Diska had removed her beret, slid into the nearest chair and sat straight at the words.
There really wasn’t anything else to say but, “Yes Colonel.”
Without preamble, Mayfield said, “Commodore Malbrooke is hosting a barbecue on Earth in about seven hours. He’s invited all the Department Heads and select others to attend. Colonel Tremble will be there and there’s a concern.”
At that, Tesh picked things up and said, “Those two attack trouble like dung and flies. We want them to enjoy their small break. But, with all of the senior officers, a few guests and some dependents located in one central spot, we don’t want anyone taking the opportunity.”
There was a pause as the two senior officers let that sink in and Diska asked, “May I ask who ‘We’ is, ma’am?”
Tesha smiled as Mayfield scowled and answered first, “Perceptive, but no. You can’t Lieutenant. Your tasking is to lead a fire-team to embed yourselves into the barbecue. Since you’re known to the Commodore and Colonel, they likely won’t question things too deeply. Pick up to four personnel who can play music and take on the role of a band to entertain the attendees. There will also be a QRF of two-stars of combat suited marines in a drop shuttle and we have Sergeant Shy off of the Pioneer deploying drones.”
Colonel Mayfield picked up things from there, “Shy deployed about fifty Stilettos around Malbrooke’s ranch, forming a perimeter. The two Stars of MARVEL-EAS Mark fifteen’s will be in orbit, ready to drop and can be on sight within five minutes. That means your fireteam will need to do the heavy lifting if something happens. We don’t expect it, but it’s better to be ready. And yes, knowing the Major and Colonel as well as we do, not to mention the others that are attending, you’ll be taking a few extra cases of weapons with. Call them party favors.”
Diska took that in and began processing. “I’ll need Sergeant Fry. He’s a musician and has VIP protection training that might come in handy.” “Fine,” Mayfield said, nodding. “Get after it Lieutenant. I’ve sent information on time and location as well as transporter credits and permissions to get you going. Captain Froyce has provided an account with credits for you to acquisition whatever you might need. Instruments, costumes, whatever. Your contact with the QRF and Earth and Starlet security planetoid is in your brief. You however are on-sight commander if something happens until relieved by Major Merrick or Colonel Tremble. Any questions.”
The colonel’s tone indicated that she thought there really shouldn’t be any and Diska stood. “I have a lot to get my head around. By your leave, Colonel? I’ll get to it.”
Nodding with approval, Elly held up one finger and looked at Tesha questioningly.
“My contact information as well as a panic frequency that will send an automatic alert out through your drone network is provided. However, if someone decides to attack Oklahoma, they’re going to be well armed and strike hard. We should expect them to deal with communications. Once you have your kit together, you’ll also find a laser direct line of sight laser that can be deployed and will automatically contact that orbiting drop ship. Once you roll that out, get the party attendees into cover and wait for the cavalry.,” Tesha said informatively, then she smiled. “I understand barbecue is a passion of the Commodore’s, so enjoy the tasking.”
Elly dropped her finger and Diska pulled her beret on, pivoted on her heels and headed out through the door with the archaic knob, her mind sorting through her orders.
In the Colonel’s office, Tesha stood and said, “Thank you Colonel. This may all be overkill. I hardly doubt we’ll have a problem.”
Mayfield stood and shook hands with Tesha, grinning, “Don’t think twice, Tesh. You weren’t wrong when you said Tremble and Malbrooke attract troubler, though I think it’s more that they go looking for it. Better safe than sorry and it’s a good exercise. That M-Mobile company is in the training tanks right now. The drop ship is going through a pre-flight and we’ll have the near-Earth Combat Air Patrol ready to roll in as well. All commands have been notified and I think we’re ready for just about anything. How about lunch tomorrow? We can call it a working lunch on Earth if you have the time. The Commandant’s mess serves excellent food.”
Tesh made a mental note and said, “Sure Elly. I’ll be in-system for a few days yet, so let’s do that.”
A Post By:
Second Lieutenant Diska Wooz
Company Executive Officer, The Cure
USS Pioneer
RSS Feed