"Sergeant, sir—we came to get the files for submission," Dustin said, ignoring his earlier jab at Balair.
"Oh, that. It should be somewhere here. They dropped it off recently, so it should still be somewhere around here," Sergeant Hansen replied, lazily pointing a finger at the chaotic pile of files in front of him.
Unfortunately, the room was too dark for them to see even their noses so it was safe to say they didn't see where he was pointing at either.
"Sir, forgive me for being blunt, but we can't see a thing," Dustin announced, stating the obvious a ting of annoyance surfacing in his voice.
A brief silence followed, broken only by the soft humming of the Temperature Regulator (TR) as it ran effortlessly to keep the room cold. Then Sergeant Hansen let out a long, drawn-out sigh. A quiet click sounded as the lights flicked on, the light illuminating the room completely eradicating the darkness and revealing the dilapidated state of the office.
"Finish up quickly and get out," Hansen muttered, reclining in his chair and waving them off dismissively as he grabbed a pair of shades from his desk and slipped them on as if the light was too much for his sleepy eyes.
"Yes, Sergeant!" Both boys responded in unison, immediately getting to work on the floor.
Dustin blinked in disbelief at the sight now revealed under full lighting. The office looked less like a workplace and more like a burial ground for documents truly well suited for the office of the graveyard platoons sergeant. Stacks on stacks of files were crammed into every visible corner, some leaning, others already toppled or toppling as they moved through, most buried halfway under dust-covered folders. While he searched, Dustin picked up one of the many dusty files and glanced at the date his mouth almost splitting as it hung in surprise:
Platoon Six
Date: 11/6/2225
Nine years ago!? he jerked back slightly, stunned. These were files meant to be submitted right after the first recruitment wave of that year; these files weren't just old, in fact in bureaucratic terms these were considered ancient! How hadn't he faced punishment for this once? That meant... none of the platoons under this man were properly documented?
He stared at the file in disbelief, his eyes darting to the sergeant now dozing peacefully in his chair before darting around looking at other files.
Platoon six
Date: 14/12/2223
…
Date: 3/6/2227
A walking sin of laziness, Dustin thought bitterly, shaking his head. He continued looking around, only to find even more disturbing signs: neatly completed platoon activity reports, all properly filled out… and all just sitting there, collecting dust, never filed or uploaded to the database.
How does this man still have a job? he wondered, more bewildered with every passing second as he discovered even more shocking things.
He turned, only to meet Balair's equally stunned expression. The boy was holding up two files, pointing at their dates, his mouth agape in pure disbelief. Dustin closed his eyes and shook his head slowly, he didn't need to say a word. They both understood exactly what the other was thinking. Still, they had a task to finish.
After more fruitless searching, Balair suddenly stood up straight. They had been digging through files for a while now with no success. He glanced at Dustin, who was now in a trance like state carefully sorting the files as he searched. Then his eyes shifted to the sergeant who sat unbothered, reclined, shades on, fast asleep again, and then his gaze shifted down to the table overflowing with even more files.
His eyes narrowed, letting his gaze sweep across the table until something caught his eye.
Platoon Six
Date: 11/6/2234
The white file folder gleamed slightly, its white glossy exterior reflecting the light in a way that made it look like it was glowing, mocking them, almost, after all their effort. Frustration flared on Balair's face as he raised his head and glared at the sleeping sergeant.
"Dustin," he called out, not-so-quietly, snapping his friend out of his trance.
"Shhh! That was too loud—!" Dustin tried to hush him, but it was already too late. The sergeant stirred.
"Huh? You still haven't found it?" he muttered groggily, still reclined.
"Why are you searching the floor? I told you to check the table, didn't I?" he added as he saw Dustin kneeling on the floor, his speech slurring slightly.
How is this guy still in the military? That was the only thought running through both boys' minds as they looked at the half-asleep officer.
Balair didn't say a word. He just walked over and picked up the file he had spotted, Dustin's eyes widening as he recognized the very document they'd been searching for.
"Is this all of it?" Balair asked, frustration etched on his face as he approached Dustin.
"Umm... yeah, that's all of it," Dustin replied, glancing over the files in the folder Balair handed him. He barely held himself together as he stood up from where he'd been kneeling. Just one good punch, that's all I'd need, he thought, forcing a polite smile toward the Sergeant as they made their way out of the office. The lights flicked off the moment the door clicked shut behind them.
"You want to punch him too, right?" Balair asked, his voice low and strained as they walked down the plain, gray-painted hallway, passing office doors labeled with brass name tags. Veins popping on his head as he gripped the folder tightly.
"Hand those over first," Dustin said calmly, taking the documents from him.
"Yes, yes, I'd like to," Dustin added with his usual composed expression.
"Let's just get this over with and go find Torren, he should be done by now," he continued, picking up his pace. They still had to fill out the forms and submit the paperwork quickly; unlike Torren who just had his squads file to fill they also had to fill in the platoon folder.
…
After what felt like a full tour in the personnel building, they finally finished submitting all the required documents. In the process, they uncovered some new, and infuriating information; Everything they'd just done was supposed to have been handled by their oh-so-capable platoon sergeant.
They were tired, frustrated, and still not done. They still had to address the platoon, and there was a good chunk of the day left to endure.
"Ugh… How do you think you and Torren would've fared if you two had come instead of me?" Balair groaned, brushing his messy black hair back with both hands as he stretched.
"I don't think we'd have done any better. I mean, he's still back there," Dustin replied, shielding his eyes from the harsh sun with one hand as they left the building back into the world outside. After spending hours in the cool, dim office building, the daylight felt almost offensive. They had seen Torren still inside the personnel building still trying to get approval for his form to be submitted.
"So... we'll have to prep everything before Torren gets out," Balair sighed, dropping his hands to his sides as he trudged forward.
"Seems like it. I'll send a message out to the platoon now, hopefully save us some time. Let's head to the field first," Dustin said, already pulling out his AulWris and putting it back on his wrist. The two of them moved toward the field, their brown cadet uniforms standing out against the lush green grass stretching out ahead of them.