Read Online Salvage Marines (Necrospace Book 1) by Sean-Michael Argo - Free Book Online
Authors: Sean-Michael Argo
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shoulder and replaced with a crude robotic arm. The quality of the prosthetic limb was appalling, considering the technology of the age, and Samuel’s mouth was agape.
“Yeah, it’s a hunk of junk, isn’t it?” said Mag, understanding Samuel’s look of shock. “The doctors gave me the choice between a model covered by the universal marine triage plan or one of the high end models that I’d have to borrow on my credit line for.”
“No offense, Boss, but I’ve seen better arms on labor droids,” admitted Samuel as he did his best to return to his meal and not stare at the claw-like fingers that clumsily grasped Mag’s water mug. “Is our health plan that bad?”
“Well, this is Grotto kid,” grumbled Mag as she shoveled down a mouthful of eggs, “They don’t get all that imaginative with naming things, so if a plan has the word ‘triage’ in front of it, you can assume it isn’t going to be designed with your best interest in mind.” She shrugged. “This happens all the time. A marine gets some serious combat damage and the choice is a crappy triage treatment or a chance to have the cutting edge stuff. If I’d been willing to take on a ton more debt, I could have an arm that looked identical to my old one, tattoos and all. Or I could have opted for a servo arm that I could mount tools on. The possibilities are as big as your credit line, and a veteran who has been around as long as I have has a big damn credit line.”
Samuel frowned. “I get not wanting more debt, but-” he began before Mag cut him off.
“But, nothing. I’ve paid off the life-bonds of my son and both my grand kids. Paying off mine is just a few pay cycles away,” Mag explained, pausing to take a bit of fried protein paste. “So, as long as I can avoid any more of Grotto’s sneaky little debt traps, I’ll be able to retire in a year or two with enough credits to die in relative comfort.”
“I wish I had things figured out like that. It seems like the longer I do this the more confusing things get, and I’ve only been doing this for a few months,” Samuel muttered as he toyed with the last scraps of his meal. “Everything is upside down.”
“Keeping things confusing is good for the bottom line, that’s part of Grotto’s game, hell, that’s part of it for every corporation, company, and cartel from here to the other side of the universe.” Mag set her fork down and looked directly at Samuel. “Just do your job, don’t sustain any major wounds, and don’t forget for a second that you are completely on your own. To the company you’re just a resource, no different from bullets, trucks, or raw minerals. Keep your head on straight and maybe you’ll walk away from the game with more than you came with.”
Mag got up from the table and put her tray in the receptacle before turning to Samuel.
“Don’t beat yourself up about Jada,” said Mag as she awkwardly clutched his shoulder with her clawed robotic arm, “Everybody knows about it, you two weren’t all that smooth about making your exit.”
“I feel like an idiot and a philanderer,” admitted Samuel, rubbing his temples with his fingers, as if trying to clear the memory of her, however sweet it might have been.
“You are a philanderer, that’s true, but you’re also a soldier, and soldiers fight and die a long way from home. When you’re that close to death, sometimes you need to get it on with someone who knows what you’re going through, just to prove you’re still alive. I’m not saying it’s right or wrong, I’m just saying that it happens, and just like a stout drink, it keeps you steady.” Mag began walking out of the mess hall. “I’m sure Jada needed it as much as you did, hell, most of you new recruits probably bunked up last night. It’s just how things are.”
Samuel finished his meal and returned to his suite, his mind swimming with memories of the evening’s recklessness. His roommate, Oliver, was still snoring when Samuel
“Yeah, it’s a hunk of junk, isn’t it?” said Mag, understanding Samuel’s look of shock. “The doctors gave me the choice between a model covered by the universal marine triage plan or one of the high end models that I’d have to borrow on my credit line for.”
“No offense, Boss, but I’ve seen better arms on labor droids,” admitted Samuel as he did his best to return to his meal and not stare at the claw-like fingers that clumsily grasped Mag’s water mug. “Is our health plan that bad?”
“Well, this is Grotto kid,” grumbled Mag as she shoveled down a mouthful of eggs, “They don’t get all that imaginative with naming things, so if a plan has the word ‘triage’ in front of it, you can assume it isn’t going to be designed with your best interest in mind.” She shrugged. “This happens all the time. A marine gets some serious combat damage and the choice is a crappy triage treatment or a chance to have the cutting edge stuff. If I’d been willing to take on a ton more debt, I could have an arm that looked identical to my old one, tattoos and all. Or I could have opted for a servo arm that I could mount tools on. The possibilities are as big as your credit line, and a veteran who has been around as long as I have has a big damn credit line.”
Samuel frowned. “I get not wanting more debt, but-” he began before Mag cut him off.
“But, nothing. I’ve paid off the life-bonds of my son and both my grand kids. Paying off mine is just a few pay cycles away,” Mag explained, pausing to take a bit of fried protein paste. “So, as long as I can avoid any more of Grotto’s sneaky little debt traps, I’ll be able to retire in a year or two with enough credits to die in relative comfort.”
“I wish I had things figured out like that. It seems like the longer I do this the more confusing things get, and I’ve only been doing this for a few months,” Samuel muttered as he toyed with the last scraps of his meal. “Everything is upside down.”
“Keeping things confusing is good for the bottom line, that’s part of Grotto’s game, hell, that’s part of it for every corporation, company, and cartel from here to the other side of the universe.” Mag set her fork down and looked directly at Samuel. “Just do your job, don’t sustain any major wounds, and don’t forget for a second that you are completely on your own. To the company you’re just a resource, no different from bullets, trucks, or raw minerals. Keep your head on straight and maybe you’ll walk away from the game with more than you came with.”
Mag got up from the table and put her tray in the receptacle before turning to Samuel.
“Don’t beat yourself up about Jada,” said Mag as she awkwardly clutched his shoulder with her clawed robotic arm, “Everybody knows about it, you two weren’t all that smooth about making your exit.”
“I feel like an idiot and a philanderer,” admitted Samuel, rubbing his temples with his fingers, as if trying to clear the memory of her, however sweet it might have been.
“You are a philanderer, that’s true, but you’re also a soldier, and soldiers fight and die a long way from home. When you’re that close to death, sometimes you need to get it on with someone who knows what you’re going through, just to prove you’re still alive. I’m not saying it’s right or wrong, I’m just saying that it happens, and just like a stout drink, it keeps you steady.” Mag began walking out of the mess hall. “I’m sure Jada needed it as much as you did, hell, most of you new recruits probably bunked up last night. It’s just how things are.”
Samuel finished his meal and returned to his suite, his mind swimming with memories of the evening’s recklessness. His roommate, Oliver, was still snoring when Samuel
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