The line went dead, and the red light above the door started to blink, indicating it was going to open.
“Num!”
“Ready.”
“Rally on the generator, you navigate, I’ll control the shield.”
“You bet.”
The light went green.
When the heavy door of the massive drop pod finally moved out of the way, Standish looked out onto Alpha India 75R in all its windswept glory. She couldn’t tell if it was day or night. The sky looked dark blue, and the pod was surrounded by a gale of white and silver bolts of water that were ripping past at unfathomable speeds.
Stepping out of the pod, Standish quickly took a knee and checked that the shield generator, which was a metre in front of the pod, was providing 360-degree protection, before rapidly scrambling forward to the large device, and picking up the controller.
Num was hot on her tail and knelt down next to the large device. “Calculating distance and direction now.” He said. “Bearing of 21 degrees on a distance of just under ten kilometres.” He rose to his feet and put his left hand on one of the grips. “Ready when you are.”
Standish looked down at the control that was in her hand. It was simple and had a single nob that she could use to shift the direction of the shield as needed. “Ready.” She said with confidence and gripped the hold on the generator closest to her with her right hand. She knew that the bulky armour’s exoskeleton capabilities would compensate for the lack of strength that both she and Num needed to carry the 900 kilogram generator, but she also knew that since day one of training, all the armour the trainees used had their maximum power capabilities reduced by a significant amount, sometimes as much as fifty percent.
“Ready to move?”
Standish tightened her grip. “Ready to move.” She replied. “I’m going to change the shield configuration, and once it’s set, we roll.”
Num didn’t reply.
Standish quickly toggled the controller to switch from a circular pattern to the arc that would allow them the best travel speed. A few clicks on the controller, the shield collapsed the section that was not up-wind and then extended its protective wall of blue ionised energy to face into the wind and debris that was whipping around the planet. Checking the left and right limits of the buffer, Standish quickly switched her armours viewing apparatus to a motion-sensitive option. It was a spectrum that she had never experimented with before and it turned her entire field of view to light grey, but it allowed her to actually see the wind, which was hitting the shield and racing by at super-sonic speeds.
“Let’s roll.” She said calmly over the comm network.
Num stepped off with a powerful stride. He was considerably taller than Standish, forcing her to trot to even keep up with his brisk walking pace. After only twenty metres, Standish’s suit detected the launch of the heavy drop-pod to their rear.
As they moved, Standish kept her focus on her grip as her legs continued to pump and find a good rhythm. Looking continuously to the right, Standish kept adjusting the projection of the shield fractionally as they continued to move. The debris that was whisking through the air vaporised the moment it came into contact with the shield.
The test was like many that the fleet had exposed her to, and the solution was always the same, put your head down, and keep moving. Never quit.
“Let’s up the pace.” Num said. “We need to average around three minutes and thirty seconds a kilometre to take the record.”
“Do it.” Standish replied. She knew that she might have been able to keep up with Num on flat terrain in sports kit, but carrying the generator wasn’t making life easy for her, but that was par for the course, and this exercise wasn’t supposed to be easy.
With each step, Standish could feel the weight of the generator in the palm of her hand, or on the joints of her right arm. It didn’t matter that the suit was carrying most of the weight, the generator was so large and cumbersome and heavy that it was taking its toll.
Forcing herself to focus, Standish switched her attention away from the increased pace and the wear on her body to her environment. The light grey image that was being shown in her HUD allowed her to watch the wind and rain as it raced around the shield, anything that came into contact with the shield vaporised on contact, while everything else moved in huge swirls that were moving past at such a rate that it looked like a blur. If it hadn’t been for the random pieces of shale and rock that flew by, her image would have been an indiscernible mess.
“Bearing?” She thought she’d break the monotony of their march.
“Good. I’m not feeling any buffering from the wind.” Num replied.
No sooner had the words come across the comms channel than a massive gush of wind, filled with shrapnel of various forms, slammed into the shield with so much force, that it drove the duo to their knees.
“Fuck!”
Standish was down on one knee behind Num. The shield barrier still in place.
“You good?” The big guy asked.
“Yeah.” She checked the generator read-out. “Looks like we’re good.”
“Ready to move?”
“Yeah.”
Standish didn’t bother extending the conversation. She just focused on moving again and shield modulations. The bulky suit, while offering considerable protection in a variety of hazardous conditions, had much less flexibility than the standard armour the Rescue Tech’s wore, and as such, was not built for quick runs, even those across flat terrain. After what she estimated was fifteen minutes of jogging, a hot spot started to develop in the centre of her back, which her skin-suit should have prevented, but wasn’t for some reason.
Five minutes later, the hot spot opened into a cut. Standish waited for the suits nano-bot medical suite to tend to the wound, but a flashing red light on her display screen attracted her attention. Bringing up a small pop-up image, Standish checked the flashing light and discovered that the suit was overheating and that the med-suite was currently off-line.
“Fucking second-hand training kit!” She roared inside the armour, but no one heard her.
Doesn’t matter.
We’re getting close.
Standish closed the window and refocused her attention on the shield projection that was still working correctly off to her right. At least that was going well.
Shifting through mini-screens, Standish found a map of the training area, with a single dot in the middle moving on a bearing of 21 degrees. Checking the distance travelled, Standish calculated that they had gone under nine kilometres, with just over one kilometre from the target.
“Num!” She called out over the comms net.
“Go.”
“Let’s rock!” She shouted, a smile coming over her face. Fuck the pain. Let’s get this done.
“I thought you’d never ask.” He replied quickly and increased his pace.
Standish did the same, but instead of running slightly to the rear of her partner, she accelerated and came alongside him, the generator hanging in the void between them. Checking the position of the shield, she confirmed that they were covered, and gritted her teeth for the pain that was to come.
Throughout their run, Standish had been moving well, but with every metre they got closer to their target, she could start to feel the weight of both the suit and the generator start to wear on her. She was fit, but the speed they were moving at while carrying the generator required raw strength. The cut on her back wasn’t helping her either.
The duo raced across the darkened flat plain that entirely smooth. Levelled by years of intense winds that made the entire planet a giant tornado. This was why she wanted to join the Dynamic Operations teams. The rush. The thrill of the chase, the surge of excitement that raced through her veins and made her heart pump even harder.
The final kilometre barrier had been crossed hundreds of times by pairs of Rescue Tech students over the years, but never at the pace that Standish and Blaz were doing. They raced over the ground, through
the dark blue haze that was impenetrable to ordinary sight, the only light coming from the shield barrier that was casting a faint blue glow over the side of the duo’s armour as they chugged headlong towards their objective.
With every step, the cut on her back got deeper and broader. She wasn’t sure what was rubbing her, but it was not going to stop her finishing the exercise in record time. Standish had grown up in a harsh environment that had made her hard. Like her father, the farmer, she knew that she needed to push the pain to the back of her mind until the job was done. It was of those intangible traits that citizens of the Empire had that were born on underdeveloped planets near the Reach.
Standish toggled through a series of windows in her heads-up-display to find the mission timer. Thirty-three minutes were gone. They had time in hand.
“Contact front!” Num called out.
Standish brought her eyes around and looked into the grey soup that was swirling around them but couldn’t see a thing. Switching the image resolution and optical mode, she found that the thermal mode showed a red structure to their front. Not more than one story high with slanting sides, it was the destination for this evaluation.
“How far?’ She asked.
“Four hundred metres, tops.” Num replied.
“Pace?” She knew she was hitting her reserves.
“We’re good.” He replied.
She checked the mission timer. They were going to break the record, but she might hurt herself at the same time. Fuck it. Leave it on the field. That was the way she treated every evolution of training since she had joined the forces, just like she had conducted herself on the sports pitches back home. Never hold anything back. Always attack.
As the structure got larger and larger, Standish noted that it had the look of having been prefabricated then installed on the planet for the sole purpose of acting as a shelter, which was quite a feat considering how fast the wind, water, and debris were moving through the air.
It took just over two minutes for them to cover the four hundred metres, then another 30 seconds to spot a large airlock on the leeward side of the structure. The automatic doors opened as the duo approached. Standish cut the power to the generator the moment they crossed the threshold, as the doors started to close behind them.
The room they suddenly found themselves in was five metres wide and ten metres deep. A series of long lights kicked on in an oppressively bright white light that filled the room. After a moment of standing still, a single siren blast gave off a sharp wail, before a massive amount of smoke filled the room before being sucked out hidden vents. Once the last of the smoke had cleared the room, the doors at the far end opened.
Without saying a word, and not having let go of the generator, the duo walked forward into the large and vast holding area, some thirty metres square with long benches running along the sides of the room with sets of hangers that were capable of helping operators out of their armour.
“Left side.” Num said over the comm net and started moving towards that side of the space.
Looking around, Standish couldn’t help but notice that the room looked like it was used only as often as the training exercise was run. The paint was faded or chipping off in most places, and the floor was heavily scuffed from years of use. It’s dark green paint job was now smudged and discoloured. It was an unloved structure.
Finally reaching the long bench that ran the length of one of the sides of the room, the duo dropped the generator down to the ground with a thud and moved in silence to the two hangers and hit the giant black buttons on the front of the units.
Standish turned around and waited for the suit to sink to the hanger. After a longer than expected pause, she felt the hanger clasp the armour from the back and arms, and the front of the suit open, allowing in the stale air that was in the giant room she found herself in.
It took over a minute for the hanger to peal the armour back far enough for Standish to step out of it, and just as her right foot hit the hard surface of the bay, she felt another sharp pain in her back which sent her tumbling out of the suit, and onto the dirty floor, face down.
The floor was hard and cold. Lying flat on her stomach, Standish didn’t move for a moment, letting the cold stone cool her hot body. Taking a deep breath, Standish let it out slowly, trying to not think about her back.
“Standish!” Num was suddenly right behind her. “You’ve got a huge cut on your back.” He paused as he ran his hand along the sides of the wound. “Doesn’t look like the nano’s did their job. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
Standish propped herself up on her forearms. She felt weak. Either it was the energy expended during the run to the shelter, or the injury on her back. She didn’t care. The victory was theirs. And it tasted good. Throw caution to the wind and kick-ass. That was the motto she lived by. Fear nothing and attack.
“Yeah.” She turned her head until she could see Num kneeling behind her. “Can you grab the med-kit from my unit?”
She watched as Num moved out of view before popping up to her feet. The adrenaline was still pumping through her veins. She might have been physically, and mentally exhausted, and her back might have been in excruciating pain, but when she got to her feet, there was a sense of euphoria flowing through her like a hot wave. The penultimate exercise was complete. And they had finished it first.
“Can’t find your med-kit.” He didn’t look up from the armour, scouring every nook and cranny of the old suit. “Are you sure it was there pre-mission?”
Standish shook her head and walked over to the bench and laid down on it face-first. “Fuck it.” She closed her eyes.
When the second pair arrived, Asa Mika and Jo-Jo, both of whom wanted to attend Dynamic Operations training, they immediately came over and congratulated Standish and Num while medical treatment was administered.
“You alright?” Zara asked after she pried herself out of her armour once she had arrived, somewhere in the middle of the pack.
Standish was lying face down on the bench so that Num could dress her wound.
Standish smiled. “I’m combat-ready.”
“I think not.” Num Blaz corrected her quickly. “Your friend is a maniac.” He said to Zara Five.
“I’ve picked up on that.” Zara Five commented.
Once her dressing was secured, Standish, Num and Zara Five plus a few of the other trainees went to inspect Standish’s armour. When they looked at the back of the interior, it was obvious what had happened: a vent for the envoirnmental systems had come loose. It wasn’t much, but if Standish had been forced to continue running, it might have been a serious concern.
There was a long wait from the time the last pair entered the sanctuary before the dropship arrived on site. The large craft’s arrival was muffled by the constant howling wind that never ceased to batter the squat building that had been installed decades earlier.
When the hatch to the holding area opened, several droids moved into the room without making a noise and quickly moved to the sets of armour that were hanging along the boundaries of the chamber and started to empty it of the bulky suits. Once the suits were gone, they retrieved the shield generators, and after the room was cleared, two of the instructors walked in and ushered the students out and back into the perpetual darkness that the clouds on the planet maintained.
When Standish exited the building, she could see that a massive shield had been erected around the building and the drop-ship, the air outside the shelter felt mild, and she couldn’t even detect the slightest breeze. She was glad to be seeing the last of Alpha India 75R.
When they were made orbit, the senior instructor came over the ship’s comms.
“Num Blaz, Val Standish. New course record.”
That put a smile on Standish’s face.
Their penultimate exercise was over. All the trainees had passed the test, and all that stood between them now and graduation was a final field test in a few days.
19
The Present
From her position in the flight chair, Standish watched the stars grow brighter as the ship raced towards the upper levels of Mechcharga’s atmosphere. Looking down at her weathered hands, she balled them into fists, then released them slowly. She was old. No denying it. She had passed her most recent medical, but that was for the post she held, not for the position she had held for decades as a combat operator that had made her a legend.
No matter. One more mission.
Then she was done.
20
The Past
Tekori
The final exam changed from year to year. It was never the same, unlike the rest of the Rescue Tech course which followed a stringent, command-driven, training plan. The trainees assembled in the primary lecture hall early on the morning of the final, eagerly awaiting news on what the test would entail. When they sat down for morning chow, all ninety students had a meal specially prepared for them and then been led through a thorough warm-up and stretching programme to get them ready for the upcoming test.
The Senior Instructor was at the front of the room, and the entire training staff were standing on either side of the main view screen that dominated that side of the room. Standish sat next to Num Blaz, whose side she had been at since they had set the course record on Alpha India 75R. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the representative from the Dynamic Operations selection board, Dat Roser. He was leaning up against the side of the room, looking relaxed, his gaze focused on the Senior Instructor.
“Graduation is in 25 hours.” The SI said, walking towards the first row of seated trainees, his eyes running across the faces of those sat to his front. “All that stands between you and entry into the Rescue Technician branch, and your first assignment somewhere in the Empire is your final examination.” He turned to face the enormous monitor and activated his presentation.
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