Shortly after transit, 946 got down to business. The compartment quickly filled up with open boxes of equipment, laptop computers and maps. To an outsider it seemed like chaos, but to 946 it was a carefully orchestrated permission preparation ritual. Gerard and Lawrence sat at the only desk, two laptops, maps and other reference materials perched precariously on its small surface. Mellor worked with a few others and organized and checked all the parachutes and other gear they would need for their insertion.

Brooks and Miner stuck their heads into the cramped and smelly compartment. “Umm, Sarge, could we have a word with you for a minute?”

Charlie looked up from his work, annoyed. “What is it?”

“Well, ya better come see,” said Brooks.

Lawrence glanced over to Gerard, who shrugged and went back to his work. He wormed his way through the equipment spread over the room and stepped out into the hall. Brooks and Miner stood there, worried looks upon their faces.

“Well, what is it?”

“It’s the KiK33,” said Miner.

“What about it?” Said Lawrence.

"It’s busted.” Said Brooks.

"Busted? How the fuck did it get busted? It was in the case, no?”

“Well, umm, no it wasn’t?” Said Miner

“Explain”.

“Back on the other ship we did the sensitive items check. After that we restored everything in the protective team boxes. Except...”

“Except for the KiK33,” interjected Brooks. “I fucked up and left it out, then had put it in my pocket after I realized we had secured the cases. Since we were getting ready to transit I threw it in my duffel bag.”

“You did what? Don’t you know that’s a sensitive item? Shit more than sensitive that's crypto. When it’s not secured it has to stay on your person."

“Yeah I know, but we were in a rush so I threw it in the bag and locked it in my locker. Anyway, during the last transit, the contents in the locker shifted and the battery charger shifted and fell on my dufflebag, and it snapped the cable feed ring off the KiK33.”

“So you're the commo man slash electronics Guru. You can’t fix that?”

“Well, if it was just that, yes, but internally the cable feed snapped off mid chip and it broke the resonator. That’s OMS-level maintenance, above even me.”

“Shit, so you’re saying that the thing’s deadlined.” Charlie rubbed his chin. The KiK33 was a crypto device that received crypto fills and loaded them into the team's communications equipment. Without those fills, all communications would be unencoded and in the clear. Also the frequency hopping wouldn’t work.

“Well can’t we just do our fills here before we insert?”

“They’re only good for a week. We’ll be much longer. I’m going to have to refill the team from the can at some point once we’re dirtside. And I can’t do it without the KiK33. There’s no guarantee that our satellite will survive or be around that long. If we go to the alternate plan and use the MBEs, then they’ll be without fill. That means they won’t work.”

“Fuck. Well you guys know my policy. Don’t come to me with problems unless you have a solution. Is there an alternative?”

Miner leaned forward. “Well, sort of. The repair of this thing is above our level. But,” Miner glanced around... ”I’ve been chatting with one of the petty officers here. We actually hit it off pretty good. Turns out they have a shop here on the ship. Small but we think it could be fixed here. The only problem is, this guy is the only one with the skill level to do the repair.”

“No fucking way. That items is classified SECRET NOFORN. You know it, I know it. We can’t have one of them even see this thing.”

“Look, you wanted a solution, this is the only one we have. Either that or we scrub the mission.”

Charlie sighed. “Jeez. This shitcans every reg on COMSEC that I know about.”

“Hey if we ain’t cheatin’ we ain’t tryin’” Smiled Brooks.

“You, I oughta punch in the head!”

Miner brought it back on topic. “Look Charlie. I’ll be there with the guy the whole time, I’ll make sure that no recording that goes on.”

“And this guy is just going to do it out of the goodness of his heart?”

“I said we hit it off pretty good."

“Bullshit.”

“Well, there was some bartering.”

"Bartering with what?"

“A bottle of JD.”

“Jack Daniel’s? Where the hell did you get that?”

“Molitoris.”

“Molitoris? That fuckin’ alky smuggled on some hooch? Doesn’t surprise me. How the hell are you gonna pry it from his hands?”

“Trade.”

"Trade what?"

“My Ruger P73. Molitoris may be an alky, but he’s an even bigger gun freak.”

“The Ruger? You’re gonna part with that thing?”

“Yep, it’s his when I get back.”

“He oughta give it to you for nothing."

"Don’t worry Charlie, there’s other negotiations on going.”

“I don’t wanna know. Make it happen.”

“Will do.”

Charlie slipped back into the compartment shaking his head and grinning.

“What’s up?” Asked the Captain.

“You don’t wanna know, Sir.”

A pasty faced rating appeared at the hatch. “Major Gerard, Sergeant Lawrence, the Kapitän has sent me to escort you to dinner.”

“Charlie looked at his watch. Damn it’s already 1900. They got up and straightened them selves out a bit. What about the rest of the my men.”

“Someone will be along to get them in a few minutes.”

“Hey he’s a Captain, not a major,” corrected Donner.

“Don’t you know anything? You can only have one captain on a ship, so the Gerard gets a temporary promotion to major. Standard naval tradition.”

“Ohh, never mind.”

“All right guys start securing the place for chow. Go ahead, lead on.”

They followed the rating up the hall. Before reaching the first bulkhead, they came across Molitoris talking to a few crewmembers. He was showing them his sidearm. They stood around him listening intently.

“Yeah so, the Browning 227 fires 10mm caseless, but I press my own rounds. The standard load out is 157 grain but I squeeze in 172 grains. Gives me another twelve percent stopping power and I pick up two minutes of angle at twenty meters.”

“Hey Doctor Doolittle. Put that thing away and get ready for chow. Five minutes.”

Molitoris tucked the weapon behind the small of his back and turned to leave. “Ahh yeah Sarge, I’m on it.”

Lawrence and Gerard smirked at each other. "Damn weapons man wanna be.”

They reached the officer’s mess. A single long table occupied the room and the accommodations were cramped. At the head of the table sat Kapitän Hauser. This time he grinned as he stood up.

“Major Gerard, Sergeant Lawrence, greetings. Allow me to introduce my command staff. I believe you have already met my number one, Commander Hrabek.” She nodded. “This is Leutnant Bester, my navigational officer.” The thin hawkish looking man also tipped a two-finger salute their way. “This is Leutnant Boch, tactical systems.” They received a slight nod from the dark haired, block-jawed officer. “Chief Braun, engineering.” Another thin scraggly bearded man that looked like he smoked too much and worried about everything. His grin showed a number of yellow unaligned teeth. “Leutnant Krosovic, medical.” The balding, pudgy-faced officer smiled warmly at the two men. “And this is Leutnant Waldek. She joined us just after you did. She will be piloting your insertion shuttle.” A young woman with close- cropped blond hair barely looked up at them. “Welcome to our mess.”

“Thank you Kapitän," replied Gerard. "Allow me to introduce ourselves. I am Major Gerard, Commander of Operational Detachment 946, 5th Special Air Service Regiment. This is Sergeant First Class Charles Lawrence, my operations sergeant.”

“Major my apologies before for our terse greeting. However as you are aware we are all,...how do you say? ... under the gun, to get things going here. Please sit and enjoy dinner.”

“That’s not a problem, Sir, we completely understand. We’re pretty frazzled ourselves.” Dinner consisted of potatoes and knockwurst, with boiled cabbage. It was filling if not entirely appetizing. Afterwards they had coffee.

"5th Special Air Service Regiment? I've not heard of that unit before." Mentioned Lt. Boch, who was smoking a cigarette.

"Well, you will forgive the NAC if they are not in the habit of advertising details on their special operations forces." Answered Charlie.

Braun smirked. Charlie instantly disliked him. "Yes, of course Sergeant. It is just that one always hears about the 22d and 23rd SAS regiment. They have such a distinguished reputation."

"Well, if you must know, 5th SAS is a direct descendent of the original U.S. 5th Special Forces Group. During the amalgamation we converted to SAS TOE, but retained our numerical designation due to the distinguished heritage of the unit."

"Very interesting."