The Dream-Quest of Lost Teitanis
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The 235th Frontier Mechanized Infantry Division

"Weapons check."

A riffling clatter of hardware sifted up and down the small block of men. Tight nods down each line; no words were needed. The weapons were in order, ammunition arrayed and chambered.

The weapons are always in order. Always.

"A and B Sections, perimeter," Lt. Col. Maxim Sarg intoned tightly. "Threat level yellow. The word is, they're on the move. There's something they want in F sector."

Another rebel tribe, moving in. Same as always. It never ends. 

No, that's not it, he thought. More specifically - it always ends. It always ends the same.

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