CHAPTER 1: PEST CONTROL
"Recruit! Why are there lizards raining from my goddamned vents?"
The soldier stood, saluting.
"I don't know, Sir!"
The Staff Sergeant steadied his wide brimmed hat as a fat reptile fell from the air vent above the mess hall table, bouncing off his head and landing in a gravy boat with a splash. It motored its little legs, trying to swim in the condiment, but the recruit picked it up gently and set it down on the bench. It scrambled away to join the other two dozen lizards that were scurrying about on the deck. They were about six inches long, they looked like some kind of baby iguanas or geckos, blinking their beady eyes as personnel who were trying to eat swerved to avoid stepping on them.
"I swear to high heaven if one of you little shit stains brought a breeding pair on board this station I am gonna personally find out who it was and shoot them out of a goddamned torpedo tube!"
Half of the station was infested with the things, the Pinwheel was the most valuable naval asset in human space and the closest space station to the front line, hundreds of ships docked for refueling and repairs every month. If they had to lock the entire station down for quarantine it would be a disaster, and the Pinwheel only had a finite supply of recycled air, endlessly reproducing vermin were a real danger to its operations.
A woman wearing a yellow engineer's uniform stooped to pick one of them up, turning it on its back and rubbing its belly, it closed its eyes and warbled happily.
"I think they're cute, Sarge."
"You-Put that thing down! You don't know what diseases it might have! For God's sake has somebody at least informed security of this?"
"Yeah Staff Sergeant, they're sending someone," another recruit replied through a mouthful of creamed corn. "They're not just here though, they've been sighted all around the donut."
Damn it, they had gotten onto the torus that ringed the central hub of the space station, the open-air living area that housed most of the facilities and staff. There were innumerable places for them to hide, and the vents would give them the run of the entire station.
"I heard Robocop is assigning a team to figure out where they're coming from," another one of the recruits commented, and the Sergeant spun around to shout in his face.
"By 'Robocop' I assume you mean Chief of Security Moralez? The man is a seasoned veteran, give him the respect he's earned. I'm revoking your recreational privileges for a week, Johnson."
"Aw, come on Sarge!"
"You recruits might be new here, but you're gonna learn how we do things in the UNN, and you're gonna learn fast. Don't let me overhear you badmouthing a superior again, is that understood?"
"Yes Sir!" Johnson bellowed, continuing to his chosen seat with a tray of nondescript mess hall gunk.
"It's a fucking madhouse," the Sergeant grumbled to nobody in particular, loosening his tight collar. He had to get these recruits fed and to the firing range for weapon drills, they were as muddy as a goddamned pig sty. There was a squeal from the other end of the hall as a female recruit jumped up onto a table, knocking over her drink and sending her cutlery clattering to the ground.
"Ah! It tried to go up my trouser leg!"
As if on cue, a group of men wearing blue UNN uniforms and sporting the badge that denoted them as military police entered the mess through a far door, scratching their heads at the chaos.
"Finally, it's about time, round these...things up!" The Sergeant gestured to the vents as another lizard dropped down, falling heavily into a tray of food and splashing its owner with mashed potato.
"Er...you sure you need security and not pest control," one of the MPs joked, amused by the scene that was playing out before him. The Sergeant waved his hands, red faced.
"Just do it! I'm behind schedule as it is! I can't babysit rookies 'and' take care of this mess! Is there any word on where the hell these things are coming from?"
"No Sir," the MP replied, "Chief Moralez is getting his people on it, but right now we have no clue. They've been sighted as far around the donut as the residential quarter."
"God damn, that's clear across the station! They must be everywhere by now!"
"Looks that way, we've had calls in from just about every section. I don't know what they expect us to do about it though, we don't have the personnel or the equipment to round up hundreds of lizards. What are we supposed to do with them, drop them down the garbage chutes?"
"I don't give a rat's ass what you do with them, just get them away from the mess hall."
The MP nudged the colleague to his right.
"Petersen, get like a...a bag or something, I dunno. Something we can put them in."