by Terry Mixon
“So, are you willing to help Andrea seize her dreams with both hands?”
“If I’m going to be looking at the officers, who will be keeping an eye on her? What about the training staff and drill instructors?”
“I’m not going to meddle with them, but I’ve taken a step to assure you of my personal commitment by sending someone into training with her that has the potential to be an excellent ally for her.
“My daughter had already decided to join the marines—for some reason, my current line of work has inspired a rebellious nature in an otherwise well-mannered child—so I pulled some strings to delay her enlistment and redirect her to the training cycle that Andrea will be in. In fact, she will be in the same platoon.
“She has no idea that I’ve done this or that Andrea will be there. Knowing her as I do, she’ll like Andrea and want to be her friend. I can make no guarantees, but I’m putting my blood into the potential fire with your girl, so that should show that I’m committed to this.”
Fei wasn’t sure about that but would have time to figure things out on site. If he was lying, what could she do about it? Nothing except be ready to act if things went sideways.
“Why me rather than Grace? Hell, why not both of us?”
“You are much more the ‘hands on’ sort. If action is needed, I think you’re the better choice. Besides, your wife has a barony to run, and her disappearance might raise awkward questions. Your lack of public appearances would be much easier to conceal.”
Fei considered his words and conceded the point. “I’m in, but if you betray me, I’ll hunt you down.”
He gave her a wry smile. “A threat not to be taken lightly. Let’s hope that this is an unexceptional training session for everyone. That benefits both Andrea and the Empire.”
Things were never that easy. Well, Fei supposed there was only one way to find out.
“When do I leave?”
4
Page rapped his knuckles against Lieutenant Evans’s office door and went in when the young officer gestured for him to do so. The small space was cramped, and all the sports memorabilia on the walls only made it feel even more constricted.
The man was one of those guys that loved every kind of sport that he could try. Not only that, he wanted to excel at them all. He cut the very figure of the dashing marine officer. He’d have fit right in on a recruiting poster.
“Park it and tell me what’s going on, Senior Sergeant,” the sandy-haired officer said as he leaned back in his battered chair, lacing his fingers behind his head.
Page sat in one of the hardbacked chairs in front of the desk. “We’re ready to start cleaning up, and we’ll be set up for the next cycle, no problem, Lieutenant. What are you doing during the break? Sailing again? Doing a triathlon? Skydiving? Space races?”
The officer grinned. “You know me so well. No, this time I’ve decided to go old school. I’ll be skiing.”
Page frowned. “Skiing? I don’t know that I’m familiar with that one.”
“It’s where you put flattened pieces of wood under your feet and slide down the side of a snow-covered mountain, letting gravity drive.”
“That sounds… incredibly dangerous,” Page said, unable to stop a note of alarm from creeping into his voice. “Are you at least going to be wearing armor or have a grav chute?”
Evans laughed and sat up. “Hell, no. There are varying levels of difficulty for the slopes, so some aren’t all that dangerous. I’ll hit the easy ones for about a week to get myself up to speed, and then I’ll open things up. By the end of the trip, I’ll have mastered the most difficult slopes. Mark my words.”
Page had a mental vision of his lieutenant in the infirmary with every bone in his body broken. The man had injured himself doing various stunts in the past, but this time it sounded like he was considering something genuinely insane.
“Sir, don’t you think that’s pushing things just a bit?” he asked in his most reasonable tone. “Maybe you should stick to the safer slopes for this trip and build more experience before you take things to the next level. I don’t think you’re supposed to go all the way to expert in one vacation. What happens if something goes wrong? You could be killed.”
“I’m a marine officer, Senior Sergeant,” Evans said with a wide grin. “Danger is my middle name. I’ve got this covered, Mom. How hard can it really be?”
Famous last words for sure.
“You should come with me,” Evans continued, a kind of light shining in his eyes. “We could dominate the slopes together, and when we’re not skiing, we could be in the lodge, drinking something warm while socializing with the ladies. Come on. You need to get a life, Senior Sergeant.”
“To have a life, you actually need to keep living it,” Page said dryly. “I appreciate the offer, sir, but I’ve already got plans. Try not to maim yourself. This isn’t a competition.”
Evans gestured toward the wall covered with sports trophies that he’d earned. “Everything is a competition, Senior Sergeant. If you’re not trying to win, you’re losing, but I’ll take your caution to heart and be a bit more careful than I might otherwise be. At least in the beginning.
“What about you? What exactly are your plans? And you’d better not say working. That’s all you ever do.”
Since Page didn’t have any plans other than working, he’d have to spin a believable lie. “Now who’s nagging? Gomez is going camping, and I might do something similar. Having a little intentionally disorganized time in my life might be relaxing.”
Not a chance. He couldn’t imagine anything less relaxing than wandering around a forest with nothing to do. Still, this was only to put the lieutenant off so that he didn’t keep trying to drag him along on his vacation.
“Well, your loss,” Evans said airily. “I’m leaving this afternoon, and I don’t expect to be back until just before the recruits arrive. You know what to do when they get here, so I expect that you’ll take care of business if I’m delayed, though I don’t expect that.”
“Sounds good,” Page said as he rose to his feet. “Have a good trip, LT, and try not to break every bone in your body.”
The officer rose with him and laughed. “Not a chance, Senior Sergeant. See you in a month.”
Page headed back toward his office, his mind already focused on the cleanup tasks they’d start tomorrow. One cycle of marines was gone, but the next would be here in a month, and he had to be ready.
The next three days were a whirlwind of activity as Andrea prepared herself for the journey to come. She hadn’t left DeSantis since she’d arrived. Now she was going to have to leave literally everything she’d known behind.
Not only that, she was going to be bereft of her support network. The people who’d helped her grow out of the introspective and somewhat strange girl they’d rescued from the crèche wouldn’t be there for her now.
She felt adrift, and she didn’t like it. Once she’d finished packing, she sought Grace out.
Her guardian—her mother in every way other than genetics—was in the library, reading an old-fashioned book. Grace said that she preferred words on printed paper. She said that, weirdly enough, she’d gotten the idea from her old battalion commander and his paperwork fetish. She liked the smell of the paper and ink and found the solidity of real books relaxing.
Whatever she was reading today, it was thick. The cover looked old and worn.
As soon as Andrea came into the room, Grace put a bookmark between the pages, closed the book, and gently set it on the small table beside her.
“All packed?” Grace asked with a sad smile. “How are you feeling?”
Andrea took a seat next to her. “I’m nervous but not scared. I’ve been working toward this moment for so long that I can’t believe that it’s really happening.”
Grace took her hand. “That’s not surprising. You’re embarking on the most incredible adventure of your life. How could you not be nervous?
“It’s going to be okay. Whatever c
hallenges you face, you’re strong enough to handle them. Anyone that assumes you’re a pushover is in for a very, very unpleasant surprise.”
Andrea nodded, but she wasn’t certain that she agreed. “I’ve had a long time to think about how this could play out. I’ve seen how some people see these tattoos on my face and think they know me without even talking to me. They hate me because I came from the Singularity and for what these tattoos represent to them. That’s going to happen at training, isn’t it?”
“I’m sure it will,” Grace said, squeezing her hand a little tighter. “The path you’ve chosen isn’t going to be an easy one. In fact, it’s probably going to be the most challenging career you could’ve chosen.
“Everyone has to fight for their place in the universe when they leave home. I realize that I haven’t talked very much about my family, but my mother didn’t approve of me joining the marines. She’d already planned my life, and I caused her no end of grief by choosing to live my life my way.
“I sent her a letter letting her know that I’d retired from the service and that I had you. Her response made it clear that I didn’t need to bother coming home to visit. I wasn’t welcome anymore.”
A cold wave of shock washed over Andrea. “Because of me?”
Her guardian shook her head. “Because of her. She took an already broken relationship and sundered it completely because she couldn’t accept my choices. Sometimes, that’s the way it is.
“When people come into conflict with you because of how you’ve chosen to live your life, nod your head and let them go on about their business. If they try to interfere, that’s when you take notice and stomp them.
“We’ve discussed the kinds of challenges that ordinary people face in marine training. You’ll have an added layer because some of your fellow recruits—and even some instructors—will have a problem with you because you’re from the Singularity. They’re going to see it as a challenge to break you.
“Here’s the thing to remember. They can’t do that to you unless you let them. Simple dislike isn’t enough to stop you from becoming a marine. They have to categorically prove that you’re unfit, and the only way they can do that is if you fail to live up to expectations, do something that breaks the rules in a major way, or quit.
“When you get there, all of the recruits are going to be under tremendous pressure, yourself included. That’s going to foster an environment where it’s easy to lash out both verbally and physically. Be wary, but don’t be the instigator. More than enough trouble will come looking for you as it is.
“If somebody tears a strip off of you, handle it verbally. If they physically strike you, put them on the ground in a bloody heap. That’s the line. Don’t cross it without real provocation.
“Use the minimum amount of verbal or physical force necessary. If you can avoid fighting at all, that’s the best course, but the drill instructors are going to expect fights, and to a certain extent, they’re going to encourage them.”
That part had never made sense to Andrea. “Why would they want the recruits to fight?”
Grace smiled slightly. “Because you aren’t joining a knitting club. The marines want people who’ll fight, so they have to recruit people willing to take a swing at someone else. They’ll weed out the ones that are too aggressive. They want warriors, not sadistic bullies. And those that are too meek will get moved to the support branches.
“If you intend to make it in the Corps, you’re going to have to show that you’re willing to fight to be there. The goal is to be strategic, not brutal. You know a lot more about fighting than many of your fellow recruits and, potentially, some of your instructors. Gauge your response to the situation.”
Fei had ruthlessly drilled her on hand-to-hand combat, among other things. She wasn’t Fei’s match in skill, but her added strength gave her a different kind of edge against those who didn’t expect it.
Grace was still her mistress on the field, too, but the margin with her was smaller. Another year of intense training, and Andrea might be able to take her guardian. Maybe. Fei? Probably never.
Physically, Andrea was superior to run-of-the-mill humans. She was stronger and faster and had reaction times that occasionally seemed like dark sorcery to her family. The Singularity had designed the Andrea Line well.
Except for the facial tattoos, she looked unassuming but was more than a match for a full-grown man, and that had been true when she was twelve. At eighteen and with some training, she wasn’t worried that anyone would be her match in a one-on-one fight, even if they played dirty.
“I won’t strike first, but I will strike last,” she agreed. “Fei was very firm about that.”
“She’s not wrong, but keep your implant recorders going at all times. You have plenty of storage, and you’ll want to be able to prove that there was a provocation. The barracks will be monitored, but you can’t count on that record. Cameras can be covered, and recordings corrupted.
“People will lie, too, right in the face of evidence to the contrary. It’s human nature to protect what they’ve achieved, by fair means or foul. Some people will see you as the bogeyman, and they’re going to make you out as the bad guy no matter what you do.
“After the first couple of fights, I suspect that the confrontations will become more subtle. Your enemies will look to sabotage you in ways that damage your results rather than your person at that point.
“You’re trained in a lot of the equipment and procedures that you’re going to be learning about in training. Fei has prepared you better than some active-duty marines, but that’s not going to be enough.
“Once the drill instructors realize that you have that level of skill, they’re going to work you harder. Their goal in training isn’t to make sure that you meet minimum standards. Their goal is to find your limits and push you as far beyond them as they possibly can. They’ll call in help if need be. You can’t beat them. You can only survive them.
“That’s going to make your bunkmates really angry because they’re not going to be ready to go where you can. You’ll be the smart girl in class that blows the curve for everyone else. That’s something else that you’re going to have to get used to and find ways to soften for them.”
Andrea sighed. “It’s going to be hard, but I’ll conceal my physical differences and skills for as long as I can. I want to make friends, and this feels like how I make enemies.”
“Being a marine is about being part of a team,” Grace said gently. “You watched my platoon fight. They weren’t a bunch of cowboys doing their own thing. They were a team working together, using one person’s strengths to cover another’s weaknesses. The enemy isn’t your fellow marines. It’s the people you’re fighting. They’ll eventually learn that and treasure what you bring to the table.”
Grace rose and pulled Andrea into a tight hug. “You’ve got this. You have a spirit inside of you that just won’t give up. Whenever things seem impossible, just remember that we’re there in spirit.
“Now, it’s late. We’re really proud of you, and I know that you’re going to make a terrific marine. Go get some sleep. We’ll have a big breakfast in the morning, and then we’ll all go to the spaceport to see you off.”
Physical closeness had always been hard for Andrea, but she treasured this kind of contact with her family. She squeezed her guardian tight, though she was careful not to exert too much strength.
Her genetically enhanced muscles were roughly forty percent more powerful than an average human’s, and she’d been diligently working out to improve them for years. Her trim form concealed tremendous power.
“I love you,” she said, letting the tears come. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
Grace kissed her on the forehead. “I love you too. We’ll be there for your graduation. Count on it. Now git.”
Andrea went upstairs but wasn’t able to fall asleep. She lay in her bed, worrying about what was going to happen. She wanted to make her family proud. She’d do everything tha
t she could to succeed, but she couldn’t escape the feeling that there was going to be more trouble than any of them had anticipated.
Well, whatever came her way, she’d deal with it. She’d survived the crèche, and she could survive Imperial Marine training. It wasn’t like they were going to try to kill her, right?
Breakfast was hard. Fei put on a cheerful face for her family, but she was already in mission mode. She’d been working hard for the last three days with her spouses to plan out what she could, but so many things were up in the air until she saw what kind of situation was waiting for them.
She’d last served six years ago as a noncommissioned officer. Now she’d be going in as an officer and working in battalion headquarters. Imperial Intelligence was supposed to handle her insertion, but things could always go wrong. In fact, they almost certainly would.
Now, rather than translating Grace’s orders into tactics, she’d be doing the strategic work herself. If she wanted to blend in, she’d have to perform it well too.
Watching her daughter—because that was how she saw Andrea—suffering while trying to hide how she felt hurt. She wanted to tell her girl that she’d be right there, but that wouldn’t do her any favors. Andrea had to learn that she could carry the load herself.
When they’d drawn the meal out as long as they could, Kayden flew them to the sprawling starport. Andrea was putting on a brave face, but Fei could tell the worry was still gnawing at her. She’d felt the same when she’d enlisted.
Andrea’s ticket had her as a general passenger on a midsized liner. Since she was traveling to basic training, the Empire was paying for the trip, but the family had upgraded her to a private cabin.
Fei was traveling first class and would be in a separate section of the ship. There was very little chance that the two would run into one another under those circumstances, but Fei already planned to spend the flight in her cabin, even eating there.
When they arrived at their destination, first-class passengers departed first, so she’d be able to slip away before Andrea had a chance to debark.