Even though it was early, the mess hall was already alive with loud voices and laughter of the other men and women who’d come out to eat their breakfast together. It definitely wasn’t the kind of scene Skye had expected to face the day after a battle against bloodthirsty aliens, but he wasn’t about to complain. This was way better than dealing with dozens of mourning soldiers who’d just lost their buddies and brothers to the enemy’s gunfire. He had a suspicion that he knew why they were all in such a good mood though.

On the flight to join the battalion, he’d heard rumors that the space fleet had some sort of new technology that kept the troops from dying in battle. Something about clones and “downloading” consciousness to a computer. He wasn’t the most tech savvy guy—at best, he knew to turn electronics off and on again if they stopped working—so he wasn’t really sure how the process worked. It was something he was curious about though. The idea of being semi-immortal was kind of badass in his opinion. He wanted to find out if the whispers were true.

“Check it out. Looks like the Serge sent us some fresh meat,” one of the soldiers, a burly man who looked more like a talking brick than a person, gibed as Skye approached their table. Not even a minute in, and it seemed he was already going to have to hold his ground. So much for having a cup of coffee first.

[color=#16B887]“That’s right,”[/color] he shrugged, settling down across from the other two and popping a bite of shitty eggs into his mouth. [color=#16B887]“Heard you dickheads haven’t been able to finish the job, so here I am.”[/color]

The first soldier broke into a toothy grin. “Think you’re a tough guy, huh? Just wait ‘til you see the fuckers we’re supposed to kill. You’re going to wish you’d never been shipped into this hellhole.”

[color=#16B887]“I think I’ll be just fine,”[/color] Skye sneered. [color=#16B887]“After all, I’m already putting up with your ugly mug. How much worse could they be?”[/color]

The second soldier, a younger guy with a gruesome scar on the side of his face and neck, snorted into his tray. “Shit,” he shook his head, eyeing the new arrival with interest. “What’s your name, rookie?”

[color=#16B887]“Skye Dayholt,”[/color] he answered through another mouthful of mediocre food. The more he ate of this mystery meat, the more he was starting to think the best part about returning home would be getting to taste real bacon again.

“Dayholt, huh?” the scarred solder mused. “Which squad are you in?”

[color=#16B887]“Dunno. None of us have been assigned to anything as far as I’ve been told.”[/color]

“Well, if you’re lucky, you’ll get Sergeant Valk,” scar-face asserted. “He’s our squad leader.” The brick made a face, and his friend elbowed him in the ribs. “Valk’s the best strategist on this whole damn ship and the god of flying by the seat of his pants. If you go into battle with his voice in your ear, you know you’re about to have one hell of a time.”

“You’ll probably get your fuckin’ innards ripped out by aliens too,” the first guy added optimistically. “Our squad’s got the most creative maneuvers, but we’re always blowing ourselves up with that hellspawn.”

That got Skye’s attention.

[color=#16B887]“Speaking of blowing yourselves up,”[/color] he led. [color=#16B887]“I heard you guys have some sort of cloning tech around here. What’s that about?”[/color]

“Shit, they didn’t brief you rookies about anything, did they?” scar-face scoffed. “Yeah, the science geeks make clones of everyone before the battles and have your consciousness saved to their fancy system, so if you [i]do[/i] get your innards ripped out, we’ve got another one of you ready and waiting to do it all over again in the next fight.”

[color=#16B887]“So… it’s like respawning in a video game,”[/color] Skye connected.

“That’s [i]exactly[/i] what it is,” brick jabbed his fork at him.

[color=#16B887]“Fucking fantastic,”[/color] he laughed. Even though he’d already heard talk about the cloning program before he’d arrived at the base, it was exciting to hear two guys confirm its existence in their own words. Part of him was even morbidly curious to find out what it was like to die in battle and wake up in a laboratory like nothing happened. Knowing he could never be killed as long as he served in the fleet made him feel powerful.

But not quite as powerful as the caffeine he had yet to find.

[color=#16B887]“By the way, where can a guy get a cup of coffee around here?”[/color] he asked, shoveling another forkful of fake eggs into his mouth.

“Table in the back, dumbass,” brick answered, pointing at something past his shoulder. “How do you expect to shoot an alien if you can’t even find a fuckin’ coffee bar?”

[color=#16B887]“Easy,”[/color] Skye said as he stood up. [color=#16B887]“When I aim to shoot those bastards, I’ll have already had my coffee.”[/color] He made a finger gun with his hand and mimed shooting brick between the eyes before he stepped back from the table. [color=#16B887]“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date with java.”[/color] Without waiting for a reply, he turned and made his way across the mess hall to get his much-needed caffeine fix, hoping the drinks were at least a little better than the food on this ship.