The Bar

 

Port Howard

Towne

Federated Suns

29 April, 3077

 

            The campaign was over. The Word had been driven from the planet. Everyone was in rebuilding mode, trying to consolidate their forces and get back to functional strength. It wasn’t easy, as they had taken significant losses in the effort to liberate Towne.

            Thankfully for Azalea Thomas, that meant that she didn’t have to patch anyone up. She could focus on patching herself up. She felt like she had been running on autopilot throughout the campaign. Somewhere along the way, she had lost herself. She didn’t know if she would ever find herself again. But at least the combat had stopped.

            With that, the Fifth Crucis Lancers had hunkered down and tried to rebuild as best they could to make themselves ready for the next operation. There was always a next operation. For now, that meant a whole lot of waiting. She had tried to clear her mind, to forget the things that had happened, but try as she might, she could not.

            Tonight she found herself in a bar in the capital city of Port Howard. Most of the unit was out for relaxation duty, and she had forced herself to go out just to escape the monotony of the base. She had too much time to think there, too much time to dwell on things, and where they had gone wrong.

            She had never envisioned herself as a combat medic when she had signed up with the Lancers a little over three years ago. She had grown bored of her existence on Belladonna, and wanted to see the Inner Sphere. She wanted adventure, at least that was what she had thought at the time. She never could have imagined the unfolding of the Jihad, her unit’s call up to combat roles, or her proximity to the front.

            It was all a whirlwind that had swept her up and carried her along, to where she felt like she barely had any agency any more. This wasn’t the adventure she had signed up for. But it was the adventure she was living.

            The bar was one on the list of approved establishments to spent time off, and it was seeing a resurgence with the influx of FedSuns soldiers. The staff were overworked, the drinks were watered down and the ambiance was terrible. But it was somewhere off base, and that was what she needed. She had already downed two rum and coke’s, watered down as they were she was barely feeling it.

            There was a dance floor, but she didn’t feel much like dancing. Just as she was about to order another drink, a man bumped into her.

            “Sorry!” he shouted over the din of what passed for FedSuns country music on Towne.

            “It’s okay.”

            “What are you up to this evening, soldier.”

            She flashed a confused look. “I’m not a soldier. I’m a medic”

            “Seems like it’s all the same when the lasers heat up. Point is you’re not a civvie. There’s a lot of them trying to sink their teeth into a soldier for the experience.”

            “And what are you trying to sink your teeth into?”

            “Me? I’m just looking for a good game of pool. Helps calm the nerves and keeps the mind sharp.”

            The man seemed to be in his late twenties, with brown hair cut the way she had seen a million soldiers sporting. There was some air of confidence to him, and he seemed comfortable in his own skin.

            “I take it you’re not a civvie either?”

            “No ma’am. Would you believe me if I told you I was a MechWarrior?”

            She thought long and hard. “Maybe. Are You?”

            “Does it matter?”

            “Not to me. I patch you guys up just the same as the poor bloody infantry.”

            He smiled. “But we’re not just the PBI. We’re something of an acquired taste.”

            “So you’re saying that you’re hard to get along with?”

            He shook his head. “No, I’m saying I’m just a bit different from everyone else here.”

            She laughed. “You sound a bit cocky”

            “That comes with riding a giant stompy robot. But enough of that. Let’s play some pool.”

            He took her by the arm and led her towards a free pool table. She didn’t know why she followed him, but she did.

            “I don’t play pool”

            “Sure you do. You just haven’t tried it yet. It’s easy. Keeps the mind focused.”

            “That’s the second time you’ve said that. Focused are you?”

            “Aren’t you?”

            “Not particularly. I’m here to let go of all of this….this whatever the hell you call it.”

            “It’s called war. And I hear you. Just trust me, this will do.”

            He plugged a few coins into the table and the balls released. He racked them quickly, while she just stood there.

            “I don’t even know how to play.”

            

            “It’s simple. Stripes and Solids, that’s all you need to know. I’m sure you’ve seen the game played before.”

            She nodded. “Yeah, seems like there is always a game going on somewhere. I’ve watched it before, but that’s about it. I don’t know the rules or how to play or any of that.”

            He shrugged. “Do you have an imagination?”

            “That’s a silly question.”

            “No it’s not. This game is all about imagination. You imagine the shot you want to take, you imagine where things will go, and you just make it happen. It’s simple. People will claim there’s all kinds of geometry to it, but in reality, it’s all about imagination.”

            “I don’t even know your name.”

            “Will. Leftenant Will Tanner. 7^th Lancers.”

            “Corporal Azalea Thomas. 5^th Crucis Lancers. Most people call me Zee.”

            “Well then Zee, it’s your break”