Ascension II: Dissociation

“An army marches on its stomach, Commander,” countered Ishikawa. “Ancient wisdom, but nonetheless true. Surely they taught you _that_ at the Academy, if nothing else.”

Reckall watched the Captain closely. Pupillary response and skin conductivity were automatically measured ; a sagittal scan of the skull spawned a schematic of Ishikawa’s limbic system, shimmering with neuronal cross talk.

“Why not sit down Commander?” Ishikawa continued, “Have something to eat? Or at least a drink. Culver would be happy to share his moonshine with you, wouldn’t you, Ensign?”

Culver, well juiced by now, simply leaned back and smirked. The armoured suits were enormous: Reckall, with his drone alongside, took up fully a sixth of the space inside the cabin.

“That is not necessary,” replied Reckall, turning to face the drone as it simultaneously turned towards him. Through the darkened faceplate he caught a glimpse of a pale face staring back at him and thought fleetingly, _Where am I?_ before the question was submerged.