I got off the base's shuttle bus and walked down the housing development. Company grade officers with dependents lived here, as well as field grade officers with no dependents. The houses were all one level, with driveways and a single-car garage. I went to the house with the number that Major Jack Emerson had given me.

I rang the doorbell. Jack answered the door, wearing jeans and a sweater.

"Welcome to my humble home," he said. "It's not much, but it's mine."

I was wearing black jeans and a black sweat shirt, as this was a very informal occasion.

"Great to see you," said Lieutenant Michael Meyers, looking as he did before, dressed in khaki pants and a green sweater with "ARMY" stenciled on it.

"How is life as a major?" I asked Jack.

"Well, I am still getting used to the pay increase," he answered. "I guess it's compensation for all the paperwork I have to do now that I'm the battalion XO."

"I'm in charge of the 18th now," said Mike. "I'm still a second lieutenant since I didn't have enough time in grade for a promotion. I guess Jack was lucky that there was an opening for a major and a battalion XO."

I looked around Jack's new home. The living room had couches and a coffee table, and in the back was a small kitchenette with a refrigerator, a stove, and a microwave oven. There was a door that led to the bedrooms. Jack took some steaks that were sitting on the counter next to the stove.

"Let's start barbecuing," he said. And so he did.

We went outside to this small backyard. The ground was paved with concrete tiles. A wooden fence surrounded the backyard. Next to the house was this gas barbecue grill; two cylindrical tanks sat under the grill. Jack placed the steaks on the grill. Soon, the steaks started sizzling. Jack held a barbecue fork, poking the steak at times.

"How are things going between you and Nina?" I asked.

"Great," replied Jack. "It's convenient especially as I have my own house now. Everything about her, the way she smiles, the way we just get along together."

"You should have been at the party that celebrated his promotion," said Mike. "It was so wild. Jack's lucky he was not court-martialed for conduct unbecoming an officer and gentleman."

I could only imagine what Mike meant with that comment.

"How are things with Melissa?" asked Jack.

"She was transferred to Tirol Base," I answered. "At least she survived the attack on Casablanca. I've got to send a message to her." The memory of hearing about her transfer still tore at my soul. I changed the subject. "Have you ever heard of jerk cooking?"

"You mean like beef jerky?" asked Jack.

"It's a style of cooking in Jamaica. Meat is grilled and brushed with this spice called jerk spice. It's really spicy. One of the things my dad does is add extra jerk spice to his food. We had jerk style turkey this Christmas."

"Sounds tasty," said Mike.

"There are plenty of places in Jamaica that serve jerk cooking. I know there are Jamaican restaurants in foreign cities like London and Miami. I don't know if there are any here in Tangier."

"I suppose I could afford a trip to Jamaica after we win this war," said Jack.

After a few minutes, the steaks were done. They were served on white paper plates, with some of the juice soaking into the plate, and I sat down on a folding chair, eating the steak from a plate that I placed on a folding table.

"This is good," I said, swallowing the slice of steak.

"And here's more good stuff," said Jack, coming from the house, carrying a cardboard case filled with Corona beers. "Something to wash down those greasy steaks."

I used a bottle opener to open one of the Corona bottles and sipped down the ice-cold beer. It was a great way to relax, especially after all that I had been through the past two months.

"So what are the natives on your planet like?" I asked Mike. I had seen pictures of the people that he called scalies. "The scalies?"

"That depends," said Mike, cutting out a slice of steak. "The scalies living within a hundred miles of the colony are basically hunter-gatherers with primitive tools. There are other tribes of scalies that follow their herds and ride in chariots, other scalies that live in small towns and scratch dirt for food, and there's even a kingdom with over five million of them, complete with towns and cities."

"Ever visited them?"

"Only the ones living near the colony. I've only seen pictures and video footage of scalies in other parts of the world. It is amazing that there are so many humans on Earth, even more than scalies on Glorie."

"I've never been to another planet. I've never even been to space until my capture."

"Well, if you stay in the Army, you could be deployed to the other side of the galaxy in a moment's notice."

"Yeah," I said. Just like Melissa, I thought to myself as I sipped my beer. I wondered to what she was up on Tirol Base. I recalled hearing or reading about a small colony there, as part of the Human Diaspora Project run by the UEG.

After an indeterminate amount of time, we had finished the steaks, the case of Coronas, and even the Lay's potato chips that Jack had brought out. We all went back inside the house.

"Don't mess this place up, okay," he said. "We don't have a crew of enlistees available to clean up the place."

He went to the giant plasma television in the living room and turned on a plastic-encased device near the TV. He held a microphone and this image appeared on the screen, with the title "It's Your Time to Be a Star". Jack held this microphone, which apparently had a wireless connection with the video game system.

"So you got the new Nintendo?" asked Mike.

"It was on sale at the PX," said Jack. "I got a couple other games with this. With this game, you could download songs to sing." Jack selected a song from the song list. "Let's put this piece of robotechnology to action."

And he then sang this rap song whose lyrics appeared on the screen and were highlighted in yellow even as the notes radiated from the speakers and filled the living room.

"That was great," said Mike.

"Why don't you try it?" Jack asked me. "Maybe we can play some of that reggae music." He selected one of the songs and gave me the microphone. "All right, go for it."

And so I did. Reggae tunes radiated from the speakers, and I tried to follow the lyrics as they were highlighted in yellow.

"Everything's gonna be all right," I sang. I sang for a few minutes, trying my best to sound like the reggae bands that sing in bars in Kingston.

"You're no Lin Minmei," said Mike after I was done.

We had a few more beers after that.

Oooooooo

I was in my quarters on base, reading a book. It was Sunday, and most of the battalion had the day off. I had done research into booking flights to Tirol Colony; they cost tens of thousands of dollars. Interstellar travel was understandably expensive. My brother and parents would not be able to afford interstellar travel even once a year. I had sent e-mail to Melissa; hyperspatial bandwith was very limited so I could not call her.

"Lieutenant," I heard a voice say.

I looked and saw a young man in MARPAT camouflage. He had corporal's chevrons on his sleeve. I wondered what he was doing here in officer country.

"Yes, Corporal?" I asked.

"We're under full tactical alert, sir," he said. "Report to headquarters."

And so I did. As I walked along the streets of the base, I noticed activity was bustling, with soldiers and vehicles moving every which way.

A few minutes later, I reached the battalion headquarters, dressed in my MARPAT camouflage.

"What is going on?" I asked Master Sergeant Rebekah Avital, clad in her MARPAT.

"We have been ordered to full tactical alert," she answered. "It came straight from HQ RDFCOM."

"Okay then," I said.

"Excuse me, sir, I have to make sure all the hovertanks are ready to go."

And so she did, leaving the main office.

"Good to see you here, Lieutenant," said Lieutenant Colonel Lupon Kravshera. "Make yourself busy."

"Yes, sir," I replied.

And so I did. I had to keep track of all the supplies and equipment we were using as we prepared for whatever was to happen. After all, supplies were integral to our ability to perform combat operations. We did not even take our meals at the mess; MRE's and water were delivered to us and we ate them on the short breaks that we had. We were all working to the brink of exhaustion.

After all that detail work, it was my turn to sleep. I did not sleep in my quarters, as Colonel Kravshera had us sleep in the office so we could be ready to deploy at a moment's notice. I slept in a sleeping bag provided to us by our logistics company. While it was convenient for us to have flush toilets nearby, it was much less comfortable to sleep in the bags that sleeping on cots.

I had to visit the garage where the command group's hovertanks were stored. It looked like the other garages, with hovertanks parked in hovertank mode and lighting coming from fluorescent lamps overhead.

"Lieutenant," a corporal dressed in MARPAT said to me. "Here is your hovertank, sir."

I sat inside a hovertank, looking at the controls. Then I went back to work, doing my part in handling paperwork and running between the office and the sergeants who were supervising the troops.

After a while, when I was on break, Mike spoke to me.

"There's a broadcast," he said. "Big news."

And so I watched this broadcast on the Toshiba plasma color television. I saw United Nations Secretary General Wyatt Moran on the screen, standing behind a podium. I recognized Supreme Commander Anatole Leonard, clad in his green uniform, standing at his right. I noticed that they looked tired.

"We have completed a major offensive against the Robotech Masters," said Secretary General Moran. "Our defensive space fleet, combined with ground-based air wings, launched an offensive against the enemy yesterday at 3:00 P.M. Central Time. I have been meeting with my advisors since then. We have dealt a blow to the enemy, and we expect this to lay the foundation of crushing the enemy in orbit."

"Have you launched offensives against enemy territory?" asked a reporter. "Taken out their supply bases?"

"I have been informed that the enemy is presently cut off from their supply lines," said Moran. "We plan to continue supply interdiction operations, and our expeditionary forces will continue their search to destroy any enemy supply bases. If you will excuse me, Supreme Commander Leonard will take more questions."

"Any word on casualties?" asked another reporter.

"We expect there to be casualties, reports are still coming," said Leonard. "I want to thank the men and women who fought to protect our world and our community of nations."

"Looks like we missed out," said Mike.

Ooooooo

After a long time, we were finally ordered down from full tactical alert. But it was not time for me to rest just yet; I was still on duty until my shift ended. Jack was in command.

"We might have to do this again," he said, sitting in his office. "I wonder if that's how the enemy intends to win, by wearing us down like this."

I too could feel the exhaustion over the past three days, ever since we went into full tactical alert. "I hope we are wearing them down, sir."

I looked around. All there was to do was busy work, like the private vacuuming the carpet of the main office. I looked at a stack of reports through which I would have to go.

I wondered what Melissa was doing. Was she all right? I wonder how she felt being on another planet. She must have been excited at first, but the excitement would surely have faded by now.

Oooooooooo

One day, after my shift was over, I went back to the men's BOQ. I was glad for some relaxation. I was in the rec room watching some action movie with a lot of explosions and stuff and very little plot.

"Jack wants to see us at his house," said Mike.

"Sure," I said. The movie was not that interesting anyway.

So we went to Jack's house at the family housing project; it was dusk when we arrived. He opened the front door.

"Hi Jack," said Mike. "Anything new?"

"Nina …Nina's dead," said Jack. "She was killed in the offensive against the Robotech Masters."

I was stunned. I remembered Nina. She was a fine pilot and a fine lady. And now she was gone and not coming back. "I'm sorry," I softly said.

"Listen, the colonel ordered me to take paid leave," said Jack. "I'm going to Monument City; there will be a memorial service there. My flight leaves tonight. I ask that you two take care of the house. I ask this not as your superior officer, but as a friend."

"Sure," we said.

I knew Jack was crying on the inside.