Recruit Chris Davis and I were hauled out of the mess hall by four Drill Instructors, with a fleet of camera drones following our every movement. They drug us across the compound to the Office of the Base Commander. We were all but thrown through the door to her offices, which had a small reception area in front. The Corporal at the desk looked up, only slightly surprised by all the activity. 
     “Sgt Marter. What seems to be the situation?”
     The sergeant who had Chris by the neck responded. “A One Eighty-Three.”
     The Desk Corporal, whose name hologo said “Deemer,” let out a low whistled. “Really, and on the first day, too? Usually we don’t see that kind of activity until two o...

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