"Maybe we should throw something down from here." The soldier stood before the armored glass porthole, arms folded as he looked outside. The shield patch on his black combat uniform bore a mountain, a Golden Eagle, and the Roman numeral I, identifying his unit. He and his comrades gazed through the window at Earth, wrapped in its atmosphere.
"My home is down there, Miami." He pointed vaguely. "I could wake my kids up to watch a meteor shower!"
"I think it's more likely to become space junk, Romeo. Unless you dare throw down the ablative armor." His comrade said, "Those people at Mars Foundry are busy clearing postwar debris from space. If you dare do that, your kids won't even qualify for the academy. I guarantee it—if you delay the Foundry's asteroid belt mining schedule, you'll end up as a mechanical slave working in a Plasma Reactor."
"What else am I supposed to do?" Romeo shrugged. "I can't see the missing team in the South American rainforest from up here."
"You don't need to. The big shots upstairs are searching for them, and even without outranking you by a single grade, I know that much. I really don't know how you've survived this long, or how Juliet puts up with you. Did she marry you just because your name is Romeo?"
"She does like Shakespeare."
"That's fucking logical. I like it."
"Anyway, once they find them, won't they still have to throw something down there?"
"We're the only mobile force still stationed on the Space Station. If the Monarch doesn't want to destroy the entire South American rainforest, then we'll definitely be the ones thrown down there." Asolong blinked his story-filled dark eyes. He was an old veteran, both in experience and age. "Maybe others will go too. They say