Sirens blared in the background as Lipton dove for cover in the Shooting House. A line of holes chased him down the hall as the 'terrorist' fired blindly through the plywood walls. He checked his chrono and swore.

"2:10."

The second team hadn't entered the building yet and they were five minutes behind schedule. That meant he was the only one in a position to disarm the bomb. Too bad he had skipped the bomb-diffuse training session because of a high-ankle sprain. He had the worst luck.

A sustained burst silenced the 'terrorist' and bought him some breathing room. He tried his radio again, but to no avail. The radio on the other end was dead. Come on guys. Don't leave me hanging.

The door ahead of Lipton burst open and a towering figure in active-camo armor landed by his side. Through the smoke Lipton read the insignia on his shoulder. First Sergeant. It's got to be Jacobson.

"Good to see you. We've got two to stop this thing. There are at least three inside. Maybe more."

"Roger that." The voice wasn't Jacobson's. In fact, the voice sounded nothing like any of the CTF's voices. Lipton let it slide and concentrated on the doorways leading in. "I'll get the door on the left. You cover right."

Right. Good luck on that. They've got that door mined. Lipton considered warning him but decided better of it. At the least this arrogant newcomer could draw fire before getting wasted by their instructors.

"Three seconds to prep." Lipton pressed his back up against the adjacent wall and counted silently. He had barely counted to three when the other soldier shot through the door with inhuman speed. Lipton's training kicked in and he followed through a split-second later, scanning for targets.

The six 'terrorists' all were sitting down where they had been hit, each one bearing a welt in the forehead from a hit. The other soldier was already past them and racing to the bomb. Not a single scratch showed on his armor. Lipton shook his head in wonder and chased after him. They reached the bomb with less than a minute remaining. Together they rewired the arming mechanism and sliced the trigger. The bomb stopped ticking with four seconds left.

The C.O.P. (Command Observational Post) ended the scenario and set the lights back on. Looking out a window, Lipton got a glimpse of the second team. They stood up sheepishly from their position under guard by a squad of heavily armed instructors. Bullet casings littered the area around them, indicating an intense fight.

Lipton's radio barked in his ear as his Operational Commander announced the results.

"Bomb defused. Good job Lipton. Report to the ONI-OB immediately. Second squad return to barracks for debriefing. Out."

Lipton groaned inwardly. ONI? What did I do this time? He turned to the other soldier and pulled his helmet off. "Thanks for the help. I couldn't have done it without you."

The soldier nodded curtly and offered a hand. "You're welcome. I am Spartan 117."

Lipton frowned and took the hand warily. "Is that a call-sign or something? Or is it your unit?"

"Both, sort of. I came over to provide that 'unidentified variable' for you guys. You handled the situation well."

"Thanks. I think." Lipton cracked his knuckles and picked up his AR. "Well, I've got to go. I hope I'll see you soon."

"I doubt you will."

As Lipton stepped out of the room a chill ran down his spine. He tried to shake it off, but decided it was from the adrenaline rush, so he let it go. No sense fighting your own body.

The absence of light in the room was the first thing that Lipton noticed. As the door slid shut behind him all light left, leaving him in a pitch-black room. From experience he knew that there was a two-way mirror on the opposite wall and that whoever was there could see him perfectly.

A light flicked on and Lipton saw what he least expected. Admiral Hood and two ONI colonels sat at a table in the middle of the room. Three files that Lipton recognized as his personnel files were on the table, open and well-read. Great.

Admiral Hood motioned to a seat and waved off the salute. Lipton responded with the customary speed. The meeting did not bode well. Two ONIs and an Admiral meant trouble. He was in for it.

The officer to Hood's right looked briefly at a page of Lipton's file that he didn't recognize and cleared his throat.

"Warrant Officer George Lipton, is it?" Lipton knew better than to answer. "It says here that you have a long record with your commanding officers. Gross insubordination in exercises, Dereliction of duty, Unauthorized leave, the list is quite long. According to this, you cause more trouble then a dozen freshmen on break."

Lipton swallowed hard and struggled to ignore the anticipation clawing at his ice-cold gut. This would not be a good day for him.

The officer continued unperturbed. "A record like yours would ground most men with court-martial; but we do not want that." He leaned forward and held out a sheet for Lipton. Lipton grabbed the paper and examined it quickly. There were two options written on it. Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, or death penalty for treason. He was shocked.

"Being the merciful commander that he is, Admiral Hood is giving you options. Choose carefully."

Lipton dropped the paper and faced the officer. "What crap is this, sir? Since when was saving fellow soldiers considered treason?"

"You will do as you're told, Lipton!" The other ONI creep rose to his feet and pounded a heavy fist into the table. "We could execute you for any number of your acts! Be thankful that we are giving you another way out."

Admiral Hood held up a hand to halt the ONI officer. Rising to his feet, the Admiral offered a hand to Lipton. "Son, I know a good soldier when I see one. You are good, but not as good as you think. You need to be conditioned to perform as a team-player. That's what we are about.

"Besides, I know the details of your pals prank. I considered shipping you off to MP duty, but my daughter intervened before I could sign the order. You're lucky that I see the same thing she sees in you. Otherwise you would be cleaning latrines for the rest of your life.

"I'll give you five hours to pack up your things before you are shipped out to Earth for training."

Earth! Lipton could hardly believe it. Here he had been expecting a hammer and anvil, and instead got a new job and a trip to the Sol system, the very center of humanity. So much for ONI and their crusade against humankind.

Lipton shook the Admiral's hand and stood. As the door closed behind him, Lipton called out. "Thank you sir. I'll make her proud."

Life was about to become much more interesting.