Terminus Part I: The Journey There (Draft)

Chapter 69: Back Then

 Thirty years before the present day, on the seventh of August, 4069, Crock Turnbull had just been promoted to General, and given license to lead his own army. The army consisted of nine hundred and twelve well-trained soldiers. He stood before his soldiers, proud to lead them.

"Welcome soldiers to the worst day spa you'll ever know. The experience is so bad, so terrible, so unbelievably lacklustre that we pay you maggots just to come here and possibly die for a reason that you can't even question."

Crock was popular amongst the people for his wit and his ability to make light of a situation most were too afraid to admit how much it scared them. The government from the outset had concerns about this, but knew that declaring him an enemy might be more trouble than it would be worth.

"There's over nine hundred of you, so if I don't remember each and every one of your names, don't take it personally."

Despite his saying this, Crock had a great memory for names and faces, at least in this period of his life. He was always one to undersell his talents, a habit created in order to preserve his good standing in a world that forbid an independent person from gaining too much.

"Now I trust that all of you have completed the basic training, the intermediate training, the advanced training, and the vice-grip-on-your-throat sacrificial goat training, because this first mission is by far no simple walk in the park."

Crock waited for an applause, as he sensed the desire to clap was brewing amongst his enraptured audience.

"As you may be aware, Gloomy Island has recently been in an upheaval, thanks to the meddling of the Gentleman's Club. The people of this fine country want to dethrone their King, Arnold Gloomy the Thirtieth, and they claim he is robbing them of their livelihoods."

Crock continued to explain the situation to the crowd of soldiers, and once he was finished, he dismissed them. The crowd dispersed as the majority prepared to leave for Gloomy Island. As he turned around, however, he noticed one young man quite eager to speak to him.

"Hiya, mister Crock, sir. The name's Talhad and I..."

"Hm? You've come directly to me? I have quite a bit of respect for someone like you to do that."

"Yes, well I figured that you'd be down to chat for a bit, you know. I have some things I want to talk about with you."

"Indeed I do know. Now," said Crock, pointing to the tent off to the side. "Who is the woman watching us from behind that tent?"

Surprised that she was noticed, the woman reluctantly came up to the two of them and introduced herself.

"Hello, my name is Samantha. I'm twenty-seven but I still feel very uncomfortable with my sense of self, so forgive my lack of courageous instinct..."

"No need to be so formal, this is only day one," said Crock. "In any case, would you like to join us for a chat, we're going into that tent over there." Crock pointed at his personal catering tent. "There's some good food in there, so feel free to help yourself. And don't be afraid to voice your opinion, I'm not the kind of guy to go nuts about dissension."

The three of them walked into Crock's tent to find someone eating the mini pastries and cakes. The culprit turned around, gulped down his food, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"Admiral Shooter? I didn't expect to see you here," said Crock.

"Please Crock, call me Ontario."

At that moment, an injured soldier came into the tent.

"Is this the medical tent?" he asked.

"No, but if it's not too serious I'm sure one of us could treat it," said Samantha. "I have basic medical training."