“Telemetry” said Sammy to Chira.
Chira was spikey haired with a cute smile and a rabbit tattoo just below the elbow. They and Omar, a striking Lebanese guy about Sammy’s age, had plopped down at his table and started asking “new guy” questions.
“Cool,” said Chira. “I’m orbital mechanics. Omar is Battlelands.”
Omar smiled. “IT,” he said. “Not my fault I keep things running smoothly and can spend half the day fragging motherfuckers.”
Sammy smiled back uncertainly. The pause just started to grow uncomfortable when Harrison Phillips’ amplified voice filled the cafeteria: “Battle stations, everyone: the Tug is a go!”