Patrol (English)

Rocky soil crunched under the boot of Samuel Davison as he stepped out of his eight-man barracks. Turning back, he pressed a button on a control panel and the outer door cycled closed. An indicator on his helmet's HUD showed the atmosphere on Venus to be unbreathable.

Of course, he already knew this, but the suit's failsafe would now require a confirmation before opening the visor or removing pressurized segments. Samuel's eight-man team had been selected along with three other teams of the same size to comprise a security contingent for a medium-sized mining operation. It would be upscaled again if more ore deposits were found.

Security was required not only to maintain order among the miners, but also to protect against rival corporations' "aggressive resettlements". Samuel's employer, the Halcyon Corporation, had been contracted for the task. At least three other companies ran similar installations around the planet, and rumors were that a large influx of "security personnel", larger than needed, had landed at the station nearest Samuel's. He had yet to recieve a briefing confirming the scuttlebutt, and so dismissed the rumors as exaggerations.

Samuel slung his rifle, an HCDMR-Mk1C, over his suit's padded shoulder, and started towards the first waypoint of his patrol shift. "This is Bristleback-one-three, on my way to waypoint Alpha," Samuel said, using his callsign.

"A-firm, big man," squaked the internal speaker of his helmet. It was the drawling voice of Petra Berkenthall, the soldier he was scheduled to replace on western perimeter patrol.

Samuel trudged past the mess hall, a large, white, soft-walled shelter that was pressurized against the noxious and harsh atmosphere of the planet. It could hold two hundred people at once, and was where workers and security personnel went to eat, socialize, and blow off steam. It was also large and open, compared to the cramped maintainence and personnel structures. As he rounded the mess hall's airlock auxillary, the door cycled open and two workers stepped out, discussing the results of a poker game. One nodded towards Samuel, a sort of greeting, and he nodded back.

Samuel continued on and had to pause at a dirt track used by incoming and outgoing mining trucks for one to rumble past. Once it had gone, he crossed the road and walked on to the West Personnel Gate. He held the left gauntlent of his suit up to a panel beside the gaurd house. The display changed from yellow to green, and he was moved through a man-sized gate that swung open. Petra was waiting for him on the other side, and spoke to him through a short-distance communication channel. "What took you so long, slowpoke?" she asked.

"Couldn't find my makeup," Samuel joked back as they bumbed gloved fists.

"See you at 2000 for some drinks?"

"Sure thing," Samuel said as he turned towards the waypoint shimmering in his HUD. Petra passed back through the gate using the same process Samuel had used to exit. Samuel Davison settled into his four hour patrol shift, counting his steps to keep his mind occupied. Last time, he got to 28,832.

---

This is one of the first appearances of the Halcyon Corporation in my writings, when I was still exploring the dynamics of our solar system being exploited for profits.