Standish

by Donald B McFarlane

  Mils smiled. “Yes.”

  Standish smiled. Mils must have weighed nearly two hundred kilograms, and he didn’t look like he had an ounce of fat on him. Looking over at Systa K, Standish knew that her performance today would be instantly compared to the only other female on the team. No way to get around that fact. There might have been equality in the service, but the females were always competing in the male-dominated organisations that Standish served in.

  It took a moment for Standish to remember what species K was from, but when she figured out it was Floxian, she was reasonably confident that she would be able to outperform her in almost any fitness category. Everyone was wearing skin-tight leggings, and skin-tight tops that were sleeveless, and looking at K’s body, Standish could tell that she had an exquisite figure, and was obviously fit enough to pass D-O training, but she could also tell that she didn’t have half the muscle mass that Standish did, and while technique was critical to this kind of training, strength always helped.

  When Jun finally stopped jogging in place, he moved towards one of the long metal bars and gently rolled it with his feet. “You know the game. We’re going to start the clean and press, go through in pairs as always, start slow, and work our way up.” He looked over at Standish. “No chance you’ll be able to keep up with Mils. The way we play it is that once you hit your max, for the next sets, try and stay there until Mils reaches his max.” Jun nodded, then looked around the circle. “Since I’m already here, I suppose Cryne and I will kick things off.”

  Cryne didn’t need an invitation. He moved up to the padded mat and assumed a shoulder-width stance with his knees inside his arms. Keeping his back flat, he bent his knees and hips and grabbed the bar with his arms fully extended. Extending his knees, Cryne started to move his hips forward while raising his shoulders, lifting the bar straight up. As the bar passed his knees, Cryne jumped ever so slightly, pulling the bar upwards, while getting himself under the bar, while lowering himself into a squatting position. Once he was set, he stood up while pressing the bar above his head, completing the move. Holding the position for a few seconds, he stepped back while dropping the bar to the mat with a loud clang. It was a flawless execution.

  Standish watched as Jun performed the same manoeuvre, then the pair repeated it. After the second lift, Systa K and Nik Has moved up to the bars, readied themselves, and performed two perfect practice clean and press. Next up were the two from Jaxos, Mo Ho and Oyni Lo. The same drill again, again technically perfect. In the final seconds, until it was Standish’s turn, she continued stretching, her heart rate accelerating. First impressions were critical.

  After Ho and Lo moved off the lifting area, Mils gave her gently pat on the back and walked towards the bars.

  “Don’t fuck this up.” Standish said to herself under her breath.

  Reaching the bar, Standish went through the same steps as those that had preceded her. She checked her footing, her handgrip, and her posture. Once she was satisfied, she executed the move: bar up, stand up, push, drop the bar. Easy as can be.

  After she dropped the bar, she took a few steps backwards and looked up to see a smile on Mils’s face. The pair quickly walked off the mat back to their original positions. As they departed, Jun and Cryne returned to the mat and added two black plates to each bar, then a clip to secure them in place. By the time Standish turned around, the two leaders of the team had finished their first repetition and were being replaced by K and Has.

  “The rest periods will increase when we go heavier.” Cannarr whispered down to Standish.

  Standish nodded and looked around the rest of the large fitness chamber. There was a hum inside the space, interspersed with the occasional grunt and groan from one of the hundred-odd personnel using the area. There were several branches represented. All the D-O personnel were wearing dark blue uniforms, the few Rescue Techs were wearing light blue and orange, engineering in yellow, and staff personnel in bright green. It was quite a colourful display.

  In no time, it was time for Standish’s second lift with Mils, and they knocked it out without any dramas. Standish knew that it would be a few more rounds, depending on how much more substantial each lift got, before she was really taxed.

  Of course, there came the point, sooner than Standish would have expected, when Systa K tapped out. She maxed out at 130 kilograms. Maybe she was just having a bad day, but her form had looked strong, perhaps it was just an issue of power.

  As the weight kept going up, the rest periods between sets got longer, and the look of fatigue and pain started to show on the faces of all involved in the program, well everyone except Mils Cannarr, who was smiling and actually bumping up his lifts in weight faster than the other males on the team. It wasn’t a question of who was going to lift more than Mils, it was a question of who was going to be the first male to drop out, and that question was answered at the one-hundred-eight-kilogram mark when both males from Jaxos failed the lift. Mo Ho and Oyni Lo both were unable to manage the lift, which left them slightly embarrassed after Standish managed to get the bar above her head.

  Once they were over the one-hundred-eighty-kilogram mark, Standish knew that she was in uncharted territory, and after she made the 190 lift, she knew she was spent. She didn’t even attempt the 180-kilo lift again, and even dropped down to K’s final weight of 130kg for her next set.

  Standish was out of breath, and her muscles were screaming.

  The decision was met with respect, having outperformed some of the males on the team. Now it was just a question of which of the three males would finish closest to Mils.

  Nik Has went out next at 202 kg, followed by the team leader Jun at 215. The teams second in command and point man, whom Standish knew had a fist of iron, managed to make it to 230 kilograms before tapping out. That just left Mils climbing up the weight charts. By the time he had crossed over 300 kilograms, there was a significant crowd gathered around the lifting platform. The other seven members of the team all performed their cool-down lifts at much lower weights than their max efforts while Mils continued to move more weight. His two-hundred-kilo body of ripped muscles jerked the bar above his head with ease all the way to 300kg, but now the loads were started to catch up with him.

  For his attempt at 400 kilos, the crowd that had gathered was deadly silent, and when he stepped up to the bar that was almost entirely loaded, there was nearly a complete silence in the large gym. Gripping the bar, Mils arched his neck back and looked upwards, and with one mighty jerking movement, yanked the bar off the ground, flinging it above his head, and locking it in place. Exhaling as hard as he could, he pressed his legs down into the mat and rose from the squatting position, his face twisted in pain and exertion. When he finally rose all the way to his feet, he let out a roar and dropped the heavy bar to his front.

  “Yeah!” Cryne was the first to break the silence offering a roar of approval.

  “Bravo!” Came a shout from one of the gathered onlookers.

  It was quickly followed by the rest of the gathered fleet personnel joining in the congratulations. Jun was instantly patting Mils on the back, looking almost desperate for everyone to know that he was on his team.

  Standish was smiling ear to ear. Having a sense of comradery in a fighting unit was essential. Something she had missed since her days on the station above Sandura 26G.

  As the group of onlookers started to melt away, one of the bald-headed team members from the Prime team walked over to Mils and patted him on the arm. Standish watched as Mils thanked him before she walked over to give him her congratulations.

  “How about some sprints!” Cryne suggested.

  The ridiculous comment was met with a laugh and a few groans from the team.

  “How about a nice light jog.” Jun suggested. “A good cool-down run, then a stretch.”

  There were a series of nods as the group all pitched in to returned the weight plates to their racks, then the bars to their holding positions. Moving off from the mats, the One-O
ne formed a single file, behind Jun, and walked over to the running track that looped around the exterior of the fitness area.

  Standish’s legs were tight as she was starting to feel the effects of the session on her entire body, but she was happy with the knowledge that she had performed well, and while Mils may have stolen the day, she had nothing to be ashamed of.

  47

  The Past

  Killious

  The next morning, Standish finally had her formal arrival interview with Jun and Cryne. Jun’s office was two decks above the Dynamic Operations sleeping quarters and was barely bigger than a cubical. It was just one of many tiny offices on the floor that was almost wholly devoted to administrative and planning for the D-O teams.

  “Standish, there are fifty to two-hundred D-O personnel on this installation at any one time. The teams eat in separate facilities, we have a different armoury, different living quarters, and different ways of doing things from the rest of the fleet.” He looked up at the low ceiling. “There are five-thousand fleet personnel stationed here so that just lets you know how small a minority we are.” He looked up at Cryne, who was standing next to his desk. “Do you know why Grade 3 Cryne attacked you on your first day?”

  Standish, who was sat in the only other chair in the cramped cube, shook her head.

  Jun nodded. “It is because I expect all my operators to be ready for action at any time.” He looked out the open door onto the outside hallway. “At any moment a Coalition strike team could burst into the room and try to kill everyone. It is my job as team leader to make sure that my teammates are ready at all times.”

  Standish nodded in silence.

  “Good. Cryne and I have both looked at your files. Impressive stuff. Excellent marks in every training establishment you’ve been to, and you’ve seen combat.” Jun nodded to himself. “Our team has been fairly active since the reorganisation of Dynamic Operations since the start of the war. We lost an operator on our last mission, and now that we are up to full strength again, we can expect to be busy for the foreseeable future.”

  “We are rotating back onto standby status in two weeks.” Cryne interjected.

  “That is correct. We are coming off our recovery cycle, which means you need to get up to speed on all the weapons, armour and other equipment we use, including some familiarisation with some of the ships we use.” He paused and leaned forward. “We also need to spend some time working you into our combat dance.”

  Standish arched one eyebrow. “Combat dance?”

  Jun nodded. “That’s what the head of 5th Fleet D-O likes to call the synchronisation of operators on a mission. A combat dance. The smooth movements, the critical timing that is required to ensure that the mission is a success, and everyone comes back alive.”

  “The rest of today is going to be devoted to getting your armour sorted out, weapons assigned, and maybe some time on ships and vehicles.” Cryne said looking at Standish, then down to Jun.

  “The team is scheduled to be performing armour maintenance today, so they’ll already be in our kit room. Once you are issued a suit, Cryne will take you to the kit room and run you through all the systems.” He paused for a second. “Which models did you train on at D-O training?”

  “The TX7 and only very briefly on the TX8.” She replied.

  “We only use the TX8.” He looked at Cryne, then back down to Standish. “But it’s good that you have some training on the systems.” Jun planted his hands firmly on his desk and pushed himself up. “Get yourself a suit of armour, I think everything they are issuing is still new, right off the production line, pre-war units, so you don’t have to worry about getting a used set.”

  Standish got to her feet, thanked Jun, and followed Cryne out of the tiny office. It took a few turns to lead the pair to the nearest lift that took them from one of the higher levels of the mountain complex to one of the lowest. When the doors on the elevator opened, Cryne led Standish down a wide, grey-walled hallway that was almost entirely featureless. The more Standish explored the base inside the massive mountain, the more it looked the same. Long abandoned corridors all painted the same colour. The facility was enormous, but it was devoid of detailing, giving off an eerie feeling.

  After walking in a straight line for almost five minutes, Standish noticed a massive lift shaft off to her right.

  “That’s one of the primary lifts that runs up to the main hangar bay.” Cryne said.

  Without warning, Standish unleashed her attack on Cryne with aggression, violence, and speed. If he lived by his ‘be ready for contact at any time’ mantra, then Standish knew that giving him a little payback for her concussion would be welcomed and more importantly, respected. Walking alongside the teams second in command, Standish started her attack with an elbow jab into Cryne’s midsection, which might not have caused any real damage, but was enough of a stinging attack to get his attention distracted from her primary target, his closest forearm, which she grabbed at the wrist, before twisting her body before launching her knee into the limb just before the elbow, breaking it cleanly.

  The attack was over in a matter of seconds, and once the arm was broken, Standish backed away from Cryne, her hands up in a defensive stance, ready for a counter-attack, but one didn’t come.

  There was a smile on Cryne’s face, and he was chuckling gently. “Nicely played.” He said, cradling his broken arm. “I guess you got the memo.”

  Standish dropped her hands. “Your arm alright?”

  Cryne shook his head. “Clean break.” He smiled at her. “Let’s get you to supply, then I’ll deal with this.”

  Standish nodded, and looked around the empty hallway, glad she hadn’t tried her stunt in front of an audience.

  Twenty metres farther down the hallway, they stopped in front of two extremely wide doors that slid open just wide enough for them to step through, revealing a massive warehouse of supplies and different kit.

  “You would have gone to the primary quartermaster to get all your issued kit when you arrived, but they service the entire base.” Cryne cocked his head to one side. “This is only for Dynamic Operations.”

  Standish couldn’t believe how large the room was, and how it appeared filled with kit from the ground to the rafters. “There’s so much of it.” It was a statement of the obvious.

  “Once the war broke out, Alliance command collected all the special mission equipment they could find and stored it in a few locations, this is one of them.” Cryne replied.

  After a few seconds of silence, a floating droid flew up to the pair. “Pass.” The machine ordered.

  Cryne quickly pulled out his identification card and waved it in front of the droid. This was followed by a series of low beeps and chirps before the pair were instructed to follow the machine down one of the long aisles of kit.

  About thirty metres down the aisle, the droid stopped at the beginning of the selection of armour. Turning to Standish, the droid quickly conducted a bio-scan, then summoned two larger flying drones that went off in search of the components for the suit.

  Cryne walked up to the first droid and tapped it on its side. “Chair.” He said, pointing at Standish.

  The droid didn’t make any noises, but twenty seconds later, another droid appeared with a small bench for Standish to use.

  “This will take longer than it did when you were at D-O school.” Cryne said, looking around the large storeroom. “I’m going to leave you here and get your handiwork tended to.” He looked at his broken arm. “The droid will let me know when you’re fitted in your armour.” Cryne smiled, then marched off.

  Standish looked back to her front and waited for the droids to bring her the first component of the armour. She knew that the first piece of the suit she could expect was the boots, and now that Standish was alone, she stood up and quickly stripped down to her undergarments, and by the time she was ready to sit back down, the boots arrived.

  The boots for Dynamic Operations armour was very different from those that
she had used when she was with Rescue Tech. The RT boots came to just above her ankle, allowing for increased mobility. The D-O boots came up to her knee and offered more protection and were capable of accepting modifications such as thrusters or retractable blades for close-quarters battle. The boots that Standish was brought were sand coloured, the base colour of the armour.

  Pulling the boots on, Standish slipped her foot to the bottom and allowed them to tighten a fraction automatically until they were snug. Rotating her ankle, she checked that she had enough mobility, then rose to her feet, and walked ten metres. The soles made hardly any noise on the hard floors. Crouching down, Standish sprung back up, bringing her knees to her chest, then landing gently. There was barely any sensation in the bottom of her feet.

  Righting herself, she looked down the empty aisle she was in, and started a light jog, then broke into a sprint, and after fifteen metres, she jerked her body to the side and brought herself to a sudden stop. There wasn’t going to be any sliding in these boots, she thought to herself.

  She skipped her way back to the little bench, just getting comfortable in the boots. They were a good fit, and their shape made Standish’s leg look slimmer than it actually was at the moment.

  Sitting back down, she looked at the closest droid and requested the upper leg components, which arrived quickly. The trickiest part of the suit was often connecting the lower leg piece to the top leg piece, then the waist section. Not only was this part of the armour critical to the operator's mobility, but it was also the joint that was the least protected part of the entire armour. Clipping the thigh guards into place, Standish remained seated and waited until the midsection armour arrived. The armour, just like all the other armour she had ever worn, opened on the left side, and the user closed it delicately around themselves once they had it in place. Once these components were in place, Standish repeated the same walk, jump, run she had done with the boots. Everything seemed to fit perfectly, and the armour was extremely lightweight and comfortable.