After a quick landing and disembarking, their rides disappeared into the night with a maelstrom of dust and gravel. Not really aware, almost too tired to be worried about that, Capt Dogra followed the group and the bobbing glow sticks into the maze of Hesco barriers.

Someone said gruffly, “Mind your step.” A moment later, he saw why; their path was up a narrow rut carved in a rock face, at the top of which he had to duck his head to avoid hitting a beam. They wound their way through a glorified tree fort, like something Pan’s lost boys would have thrown together.

“This is a base?” Capt Dogra wondered aloud.

“Forward operating base,” a scruffy specialist clarified, “Officers’ll bunk in there, enlisted follow me.”

He took one look at their accomdations, 3 bunk beds crammed into a triangular room made of plywood, “I don’t think I want to know where the enlisted get to sleep.”

As they were clumsily settling in, another specialist poked in, “If you hear shooting, it’s probably test fires. Probably.”