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was adding another tattoo to his already overloaded skin canvas.
    “I bailed out first,” Blake said, shaking his head. “Second op in a row that I’ve bailed out first. I can’t believe it.”
    “Don’t worry about it, Kid,” Jenkins said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Jenkins and Blake had a good relationship. She was much older, but looked out for him both during operations and when we were on downtime. He was like a little brother to her.
    “And as ever, the captain was out last,” Blake said, smiling at me.
    “Last in, last out,” I said. “There are no medals for that. Don’t worry about it, Blake. You did good.”
    I liked Blake. He was a good soldier; showed a lot of potential as an operator. He was always like this after a mission: insistent on chewing over the details of the operation, on questioning whether he could’ve done things differently, eager to please. I was quite the opposite. While I wanted to get things done, I tried to seal away what had happened after each operation – to compartmentalise the detail. It was easier to forget, that way.
    Jenkins sucked her teeth. “Let’s have another drink. I want to keep my boys watered.”
    She sloppily poured us another beer from a scratched plastic pitcher, spilling some onto the grubby table. We grabbed glasses and lifted them, knocking them together noisily and spilling even more beer.
    “To dying,” Jenkins proclaimed.
    We threw our drinks down and swallowed them in one go. The beer tasted warm and still.
    The squad had a good dynamic. I’d led many, during my lengthy stint in Sim Ops, and the current configuration was the best it had ever been. Kaminski had been with me from the very start, although he hadn’t accrued anything like the number of simulated deaths that I had. Most troopers liked to take downtime between operations. Jenkins and Martinez had joined my squad at about the same time – three years back. Then Blake had filled an unexpected squad vacancy, and the rest was history.
    Jenkins wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, removing the overspill from her gulped beer.
    “Such a lady, Jenkins,” Blake said, laughing at her. “The sort of woman my mother would like to meet.”
    “You’re always talking about your mother,” Jenkins said. She slurred her words. “Do you miss your folks?”
    Blake’s face froze slightly. Jenkins had, inadvertently, touched a nerve. My squad’s morale was a priority of mine. Something’s bugging him . But before I could act on his change in mood, before I could question him, he was himself again – full of his usual bravado. I’ll have to watch Blake , I decided. He was a thinker. Sometimes, for sim operators, that wasn’t a good thing.
    “Course not. It’s just been a long time since I saw my family, is all.”
    Jenkins gave a sage nod. “For me? Three years and counting. You’d think those assholes would take the time to come visit me out on the wild frontier!”
    Blake and Jenkins bumped fists, descending into drunken laughter.
    We were all Earth-born, except for Martinez – and he liked to believe that he was only a generation away from the homeworld. Relatives, families, friends: if you had them, this far out from the Core Worlds, they were just names, pretty pictures on holo-screens.
    “So, what’s next for us, Captain?” Jenkins asked me. She nudged Blake’s shoulder. “We should bet on it. Get Kaminski and Martinez in on the action.”
    “We’ll get more airtime when we’re good and ready,” I said, trying to hide the fact that I was already yearning to be back in a simulant. “Command will make that decision. You should be enjoying the downtime.” I nodded at the blonde dancer circling around our table. She was still making eyes at Blake. “I’m sure that you can find some action down here.”
    Something like avarice crossed Blake’s face, and he seemed to sit a little prouder in his seat. At least I was getting his mind off the topic of