Two sets of footsteps rang out across a long, dark hallway. Private Lance stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. Footsteps and a figure approached from afar.
"Hail, stranger" called the figure.
"From the States, hail" echoed Pvt. Lance. "I am Lance of the 3rd Army Ordnance Corps Neophyte's Division, Ranked Private of Lieutenant Salley's Platoon under Captain Fettringer, Battalion Commander Zangief and Brigade Commander Gilford, reporting to Sergeant Ditty for extra duty."
The figure cast the light about Pvt. Lance, "Okay." He chuckled and walked on.
Silence settled in Essette's bones. He jumped at the plumbing's sudden knocking. He wondered who was showering so early in the morning. "Or maybe a morning tinkle?" Water hissed from behind the walls. "Is it okay to knock?" His eyes wandered in search of answers until, hesitantly, he knocked. Seconds passed, but nobody answered. He knocked again, louder. Suddenly, there was shuffling from behind the wall.
A disheveled man in yesterday's uniform opened the next door over. "Do what?" he called into the darkness.
"Sorry," whispered Essette, "I'm looking for Sergeant Ditty." He fiddled over his next words. "He's here, right? Unit 2A-327?" He read the soldier's rank and nametape.
"Yeah, no worries, Neighbor," assured Specialist Simmons.
Suddenly aware of what his arms were doing, Pvt. Lance laughed nervously and tried to relax.
Spc. Simmons frowned. "Yeah, not much comfort, is it." He paused and opened his mouth a few times. "He's not that scary- I mean, Sergeant Ditty- well, yeah he's a bit o'erdrawn at the memory bank. But, he's not that scary." He looked at Essette meaningfully. "Yeah?" he said, nodding.
Essette blinked and shook his head no.
Simmons scratched his neck. Inspiration struck him, and he raised his head excitedly: "The rumors aren't true, you know! People just get the wrong impression what with his keen understanding o' necromancy. Can't cast a spell what you don't have the memory of, 'n all. But he's a nice guy, really! Mysterious for sure, but—"
Essette interrupted him with a shushing motion.
"Nice- he's nice," whispered Simmons. Weirdly formal sometimes- kinda mysterious, but nice. … gave me an MRE once." "From his rucksack," he added. "We 're out on patrol- out in some sticks-y place. Ditty likes to keep details short 'n stuff. So we were out in the sticks—somewhere North, I think—and this crazy storm whips up! Out o' nowhere! Just like that 'n we 're out—kin' o' fucked, too, cause we 're dressed for warm weather. And it was in a clearing, too. No caves or natural structures to hole up in. Had to start diggin'! 'r we would've. See, Sergeant Ditty pulled a quick one! Thought he was jokin' when he evoked Endymion's Tiny Hut and left all to themselves and just holed up in it." He laughed, "Maybe he was jokin', a little bit. But- so, there he was in his hut when suddenly rapid-fire over like a minute high-power spells are comin' off o' his hut! First, this massive wave o' force hits ya in the gut, except it's just a Dispel Magic abjuration! Then it's a bunch more waves o' force all quick like 'bam bam bam!' Got it from another it was precautionary stuff like anti-scrying, Dimensional Anchor, Telepathic Bond and the like. Then it was the whole snowstorm stopped in our area! 'n it was a large area! Some'n' like 200 meders!"
Essette cut in, "Isn't all that just normal stuff? Someone's supposed to cast all that as soon as battle starts every time, and the weather was weird so it's not like it wasn't normal."
"Yeah but that's not the best part!" said Simmons. He looked hurt, like someone had cast shade upon his idol.
Essette felt bad. "Oh."
"Yeah, well…" continued Simmons. "The best part… best part was when after all the first stuff was done and he'd already cast all this super powerful stuff—way more powerful than any others I'd seen it! He started a fire in our defensive camp—we'd decided to camp there, given it was already Guards and Wards. …"
Feeling lightheaded, Essette bent his knees and assumed a comfortable position leaning against the door.
"… in the middle of the camp and drew up this massive ultra-complex ritual circle! When he activated it, the earth right shook with magical power! All this going off at once: all the bugs n vermin n such fell over dead and kind 'o melted into the ground a bit; twenty large trees erupted from the ground in a circle around the ritual and grew all this-way-and-that into cabins! The—"
Essette interrupted again with a shushing motion.
"Sorry…" he whispered. "The whole giant ritual circle went up in flames like a massive Continual Flame—big as a bonfire, I swear it. Temperature came up to a cool eighty Farnheit with some kin' o' gentle breeze goin' on, too. Skyline got all dusk-like. We was all 'Soldier could get used to this!' and dinner was even hot!"
Essette began to raise a finger to his mouth when Simmons shrunk with apologetic realization.
"Sorry" was on Simmons' mind when unit 2A-327's door burst open and an angry Sgt. Ditty stomped through the doorway with a blooded wide grin and heat on his face.
The door's violent motion had thrown Essette to the ground. He looked up at Sgt. Ditty with wide-eyed fear and amazement. It was no wonder that people looked up to him.
Sgt. Ditty sucked the blood from his teeth and scowled. "What're you two think you're doin standing in front of my door, talkin'."
Spc. Simmons stood at ease and spoke up first: "Sergeant Ditty, Private Lance was reporting for—"
Sgt. Ditty locked eyes with Simmons. "Go to your room."
"Yes Sergeant."
Pvt. Lance scrambled awkwardly to his feet and stood at attention. Simmons' door shut loudly. The CQ guard's footsteps stilled. Sounds shuffled from behind closed doors.
"So," Sgt. Ditty addressed the frightened private. "Why are you here?"
Lance stammered nervously. "I… I, uh?" He gulped. "Enlisted because my family? It was the right thing to do."
"Family, huh?" Sgt. Ditty burped. "Here, Private. Here. Why, are, you, here?" He pointed downwards.
Lance's eyes followed Sgt. Ditty's fingers to the floor. They widened in realization. "O-o-oh! Yes! Right! In the dorms- your dorms! I'm here- here for you! Morning remedial PT!"
"PT, huh?" Sgt. Ditty palmed his stubbled face. "You the fuck-up who failed the run, Private?"
"No, Sergeant!" Private Lance beamed. "I forgot my PT cap at the Company Run!"
Sgt. Ditty chuckled. "Ah, that fuck-up. Well… ." He assessed the private's uniform and found it excessive; the private wore three layers and even had his gaiter neck on. "Pretty cold outside, huh Private?"
"Yes, Sergeant!" Private Lance beamed.
Sgt. Ditty laughed. "Meet me on the tarmac in 30."