The pot-banging that signaled yet another new day of Marine Corps recruit training rebounded off the walls, echoing about the chamber. Squeak, the first to rise, covered her ears in pain as she kicked her blanket off and rolled onto her feet. It was only after the two junior DIs left that she removed them and began to dress, muttering invective to herself in her native Rodese. “This is too much!” she finally belted out in Basic as she threaded her antennae through the holes in her hat. “Can they not think of another way to rouse us?!” “Are you finished, slime?” he deadpanned. — — — “Yes.” “Fire!”