by Terry Mixon
“0430. As you might expect, their day is going to start with a bang. I’ll be running the show but handing things off to Sergeant Sophia Gomez at 0700 to get some sleep. You don’t need to be awake for that, and I suggest you get what sleep you can. As soon as we run into problems, we’ll be coming to see you.
“You’ll need to meet all the DIs before lunch, so I’ll set that up. As far as food goes, I suggest you have a runner grab you something. The recruits will be around and about, so you’ll need to stay inside until you know their schedule.”
Fei rose and extended her hand. “That works for me, Senior Sergeant. We’ll make this work.”
“I wouldn’t get ahead of myself if I were you, ma’am,” he cautioned as he shook her hand. “There’s still plenty of time for things to drop into the crapper.”
That was so damned true.
11
Page’s internal chronometer woke him at 0400. He was tired, but the schedule didn’t allow him any extra time to sleep. He’d have to wait until he was off to catch a few more hours of shuteye.
He dressed quickly because the other drill instructors would be done eating breakfast and already preparing to receive the recruits. Today was going to be a continuation of the shark attack, so they’d all be in attendance.
Basically, intake was a feeding frenzy that devoured anyone that didn’t move fast enough or failed to do what the drill instructors ordered. The slow or noncompliant would get all of the negative attention they could handle to ensure that there were no repeat performances.
It was a somewhat brutal tactic, but it was also quite effective.
He grabbed a ration bar from his desk for breakfast as he made his way down the stairs. As he walked, he briefly conferred with the other DIs via his implant coms. Half of them were going to the pit to wait for the recruits while the rest were lined up outside the barracks.
The pit was a sizeable sawdust-filled exercise area surrounded by sandbags. There was a raised platform at one end where exercises could be demonstrated, and there was plenty of space to spread the recruits out so that they could get far more individualized attention than they wanted.
The drill instructors in front of the barracks would receive the recruits as Page sent them running out. The bum’s rush would get them off balance, and the DIs would keep them that way.
This process would continue on and off over the next couple of weeks to see who broke. Better to find out early. If they couldn’t take the shark attack, then they probably weren’t cut out to be marines in the first place. Combat was an unforgiving environment.
Satisfied that everything was ready, he exited onto the ground floor and found a handy trashcan. It was a pressed metal affair with a lid made of the same material. It was relatively light and made an incredible amount of noise when thrown.
Which was kind of the point.
He walked down the center aisle of the barracks, looking at the sleeping recruits. At this point, they’d been through a busy day and had no idea of the trauma that was awaiting them. The thought made him smile.
He paid particular attention to Tolliver. She was the only recruit with military-grade implants, so identifying her took only a moment. Six other recruits had civilian implants, but they’d only be of marginal usefulness in this environment.
They’d probably want to keep the fact that the girl had military-grade implants and a marine nanogenerator to themselves. The information that she had something the rest of the recruits didn’t might cause additional friction.
Then he reconsidered.
Maybe demonstrating that she already had military-grade implants would drive the others to work harder if done right. Seeing what someone with implants could do might encourage them to increase their efforts.
Of course, that would make Tolliver even more unpopular, but that could also play into his plans.
Page made a mental note of the girl’s bunkmate. He needed to find out whether she was a friend, an enemy, or merely someone who was horrified to be anywhere close to Tolliver.
He’d be able to sort that out in short order as the barracks’ public areas were monitored via concealed vid cams. It wouldn’t take long to get a grip on the recruits’ interpersonal relations.
When his internal chronometer indicated that it was 0430, he grinned. It was time to get this party started.
As Andrea had expected, the morning wake-up call came long before dawn. It was, however, significantly louder than she’d planned for.
The first hint that something was going on was a loud metallic crash. Andrea sat bolt upright and almost fell off her bunk. Even though she’d been expecting something, the shock value was far greater than she’d anticipated.
Striding down the center of the room after the metallic trashcan that he’d thrown, Senior Sergeant Page bellowed at them. “On your feet, recruits! It’s a glorious day!”
As everyone started scrambling, he continued. “Welcome to your first day of training. I want everybody standing next to their bunk, in uniform minus your jacket and cover—that’s your hat—in sixty seconds. Anybody not ready by then will regret it.”
Andrea vaulted off the top bunk, narrowing missing Diana as the girl hurled herself toward her locker. Since Andrea had slept in her undergarments, it was a simple matter to pull on the uniform she’d stripped off yesterday. She sat on the lower bunk and hurriedly put her boots on, tying the old-fashioned laces as quickly as she could.
Dressed in what her internal chronometer said was just over fifty seconds, she picked one side of the bunks and stood at attention behind the yellow line painted on the floor. She could see across the open space as everyone on that side of the barracks was still scrambling to get ready.
Diana was a few seconds behind her, but she reached the line on her side of the bunks and stood at attention before Senior Sergeant Page stalked back down the center of the room, his eyes taking everything in.
“Everyone freeze!” he said in a loud voice. “Your time is up. Because you couldn’t be ready on time, I’m adding thirty minutes to this exercise period. I’m certain that your platoon mates will thank you for that later.”
Andrea understood that kind of peer pressure quite well. In the crèche, the girls had disciplined one another quite firmly. She was certain that some of the methods they’d used wouldn’t be tolerated here, but the tactic would still be effective.
Frankly, she was grateful that she’d gotten ready on time. She was coming into training with enough baggage and didn’t need to be the one causing trouble for everyone else.
“If you’re ready, line up outside,” Page shouted. “Move out!”
Andrea and Diana raced out of the barracks and found three drill instructors waiting for them. The sky was still dark, but bright lights on tall poles lit the area quite well. Drill Instructor Gomez seemed to be in charge and directed everyone to three lines painted on the pavement.
“Toes behind the lines and spread out an arm’s length away from the person to your left. I don’t care where you are in the formation, but make certain that there are a similar number of people in each line. Move it!”
The process was far from straightforward, since no one knew what they were doing, but they managed it even as the late arrivals began filtering out of the barracks. She was pleased to see Claudio scowling as he ran out.
Day one, and he was already falling behind. She’d make sure to mention that to him when the time came.
Senior Sergeant Page stepped out of the barracks when the last of the recruits made it out. He stood in front of them, surveying them like they were spoiled food in the pantry.
“That was an utterly pathetic performance, recruits. Going forward, everyone will be standing in formation in under two minutes. I expect each of you to encourage your fellow recruits to move faster, or the platoon as a whole will suffer the consequences.
“Now, for your first lesson. When I say ‘right face,’ you will turn ninety degrees to your right. When I say ‘forward mar
ch,’ you will begin marching in step to my cadence, starting with your left foot. Your left foot.”
He gave them all a stern look. “Right face.”
Andrea turned to the right, pivoting on the ball of her left foot and the heel of her right. Then she brought her left foot forward to stand next to her right. That was the way that Fei had shown her to do it.
Very few of the other recruits moved with anything like that kind of precision. It was more like shuffling their feet to get into position.
“Forward march.”
The platoon staggered into motion. At least a third of them stepped out with their right foot.
“Your other left, recruits,” Page said. “Your left, your left, your left, right, left.”
He followed actions to words by stepping with the indicated feet. His voice was easily loud enough to carry to each of them. That helped to sort out some of the chaos but not all. Not by any means.
Around them, Andrea could see other platoons that were already up and in motion. Unlike their platoon, these recruits were orderly, and their steps all happened in unison. Their drill instructors were singing strange songs that the recruits sang back as they jogged. It was all… very odd.
She was sure that Senior Sergeant Page would’ve liked to have gotten them to where they were going faster, but idiots that they were, they couldn’t move in unison, so they walked until they arrived at an area about fifty meters square that was surrounded by sandbags. The interior was filled with a thick layer of sawdust. The scent of it tickled her nose.
At one end, there was a raised wooden platform, and Senior Sergeant Page jogged over to it as the drill instructors—including two more that had been waiting there—moved them into what was obviously an exercise area.
“Welcome to the pit, recruits,” Page said, his hands on his hips. “This is where we’ll do a fair bit of your morning calisthenics for the next few weeks, particularly when you screw up. You’re going to grow to hate this place. Spread out as the drill instructors indicate and prepare for the worst morning of your lives.”
No matter what happened today, this wouldn’t come close to being the worst morning of Andrea’s life. No one was trying to kill her. Yet.
The drill instructors got everyone separated so that they wouldn’t inadvertently come into contact with those around them. Of course, this process involved lots of shouting and some pushing. She imagined that that was going to be a staple of basic training.
Once the recruits were spaced out the way the drill instructors wanted, they began patrolling the pit’s interior. Their eyes seemed to be everywhere, looking at everyone. No lapse was too small to be corrected.
Senior Sergeant Page spent a few seconds looking over the crowd and nodded in apparent satisfaction. “The first exercise you will learn is the push-up. Trust me when I say that you will become extremely familiar with it over the next twelve weeks. Observe as I demonstrate.”
He dropped down on the platform to rest on his toes and palms with his back straight, facing at a ninety-degree angle from the recruits. “This is the front leaning rest position. You’ll note that my back has no bend or sag. As you do your push-ups, you will keep your back perfectly straight and your head up so that your face is forward. You will tuck your elbows in as you descend and keep going until your elbows break the plane of your back like this.”
He lowered himself until his elbows were on the same plane as his body. He then pushed himself back up.
“That seems easy, doesn’t it? Trust me when I say that maintaining such a clean posture will become most difficult once you get tired. Which you assuredly will.”
He rose to his feet and smiled grimly. “Everyone drop.”
Andrea quickly planted her hands on the sawdust and kicked her feet out behind her, raising her head so that she was looking forward. The rest of the recruits were slower and less agile, but it only took a few seconds to get all of them into the front leaning rest position.
“Now, push until I tell you to stop.”
Andrea began doing push-ups. She kept her posture straight and didn’t try to rush. That probably wasn’t going to help her, but she had to try.
The drill instructors moved among the recruits, correcting their posture and demanding they move faster. Andrea complied, her body able to handle the load.
As the platoon did more push-ups, butts started to rise, and someone eventually declared that they couldn’t do any more. That was immediately demonstrated to be a bad idea.
The drill instructors swarmed that person. They came in from every part of the pit, all shouting at the same time. The general thrust of their orders was to keep pushing and not to stop. All demanded more from the unfortunate recruit.
Andrea continued doing her push-ups, focusing just on herself. With her greater strength and endurance, she could keep going longer than a regular human. She was feeling pretty pleased with herself right up until Senior Sergeant Page arrived with a couple of sandbags in hand.
He grinned at her and put them on her back. The added weight made doing push-ups correctly far more difficult, and that situation wasn’t improved when Drill Instructor Gomez added two more bags. The things had to weigh at least ten kilos each.
Page squatted down beside her as she continued pushing. “Don’t think we’ve forgotten about you, Tolliver. Since you’re in better physical condition than your fellow recruits, we’re having a special weight vest put together. Once we add in arm and leg weights, you’ll have just as much fun as everyone else.”
As the additional weight on her back sapped her strength, her arms began trembling, and her posture suffered. That didn’t stop her from giving it everything she had. She wasn’t going to fail. Even with the weights, she was going to keep going until she had nothing left to give.
“Get that butt down, Recruit,” Drill Instructor Gomez barked. “Tuck those elbows back in and keep pushing. I’m not tired yet.”
Gomez stood directly over Andrea until she couldn’t do another push-up. Her face planted in the sawdust when her arms failed, and it clung to her sweat-covered face and got into her mouth. Yuck.
The drill instructor grunted, though Andrea couldn’t tell whether it was in satisfaction or displeasure. She then moved on to yell at someone else.
Andrea sucked air in and tried to get herself back into the front leaning rest position, spitting out the wood-flavored grit as best she could.
Training was going to be just as much of a pain in the ass as she’d expected. Worse, really. She’d have to work harder, but she wasn’t going to give up—no way in hell.
Senior Sergeant Page shook his head as he jumped back onto the low platform. “Pathetic. Well, I’m not going to lower the standards of my beloved Corps for the likes of you. If you want to be Imperial Marines, you’re going to have to perform at a higher level.
“That’s only the first of the exercises we’re doing today. If you think you’re tired now, you have absolutely no idea what you’re going to feel like in an hour.
“Some of you are doing so poorly at this point that it might be necessary to move you to a remedial platoon where you can be worked until you perform at the level this training demands. You definitely wouldn’t like that, so I suggest you dedicate yourselves to the process of impressing me right now.”
With that, he began instructing them on how to do jumping jacks. Drill Instructor Gomez and another man arrived with a short length of rope to tie two sandbags together. That done, they produced a second rope and repeated the process. They then hung the improvised weights on each of her shoulders.
That meant that she had to support four sandbags while doing jumping jacks. It wasn’t impossible, but she was going to do far worse than she would’ve under normal circumstances.
The next hour was going to be hell.
12
During her exploration of the platoon’s command-and-control network, Fei discovered that they used vid cameras to keep an eye on the battalion’s public spaces. That
meant that she was able to monitor what was happening at the pit without actually being there.
She watched wryly as the drill instructors piled sandbags on top of Andrea to make her work harder. She felt some sympathy for the girl but not much. She’d known what becoming an Imperial Marine would take, and this was only a down payment.
Andrea had come into this with advantages that the rest of the recruits didn’t have, so it was only fair that she had to work harder to achieve her goals. Nothing about this process was going to be easy, and it wasn’t meant to be.
Once the recruits had no energy left, the drill instructors shouted them to their feet and walked them around the pit a few times in formation to let them cool down before marching them to the medical center for their intake exam.
Fei knew that the recruits would be released to clean up once that was done and then taken to eat breakfast. This was only a foretaste of what they had coming to them over the next twelve weeks, and she wondered how many of them really had the grit to tough it out.
That was the real secret. If someone could do what was required and buckle down to learn what was offered, they’d almost certainly pass basic training. It was the ones who refused to comply or gave up that didn’t make it.
She knew that Andrea didn’t fit into those categories. Barring any outside influence, her girl would make it.
Page and one of the female drill instructors left the recruits and headed back toward the barracks. It was game time.
That forewarning gave her enough time to find a small briefing room that would be sufficient to hold them, and she let Page know where she’d be. The two entered the briefing room a few minutes later.
Page gestured to his companion. “Lieutenant Na Fei, this is Sergeant Sophia Gomez, my second. Lieutenant Na is going to be our commanding officer while Lieutenant Evans is recuperating. She’s only here for this rotation.”
The smaller woman’s eyes narrowed as she took her seat. “Forgive me if I say so, ma’am, but I can’t help feeling that there’s more to the story. Are you here because of Tolliver?”