“Should have known you’d get it right, Walborski,” said Drill Sergeant Hazard, her sharp eyes checking his suit. “You’ve been in these before?”
“No, Drill Sergeant,” said Walborski in his best parade ground voice. “All I’ve ever been in were piece of shit militia rigs.”
“And that’s what you were in when you killed all those Cacas?” asked the Drill Sergeant, her eyes widening.
“Yes, Drill Sergeant, until I had to leave the armor behind.”
“Platoon, right face,” yelled out Martinez. “Forward march. Double time, march.”
The platoon ran in a double time, covering the ground much faster than they could have without the suits. They ran for ten kilometers, reaching the obstacle course that had nearly killed them all in weeks past. After forming up they were sent through the course by squads.
Cornelius ran flat out toward the first obstacle, leaping into the air and clearing the three meter wall. He landed at a run at the other side, then took a dozen quick steps and jumped up the five meter wall, gripping the top and pulling himself over. I could get used to this, he thought, trying to imagine what the medium and heavy suits would be like.
Next up was the cargo net, and again it was negotiated with the greatest of ease. Cornelius was almost to the top when another suited figure passed him. He recognized Bergstrom’s suit by its diminutive size. Then she dropped down the other side and took off with the grace of one of the desert deer that lived on the reservation. Now she’s in her element, he thought as he went over the top and let himself drop the ten meters to the ground. The suit took up the impact, and he took off, determined to catch the woman.
It normally took a trainee a half an hour to get through the course. Cornelius had done it in as little as twenty minutes. The suit took him through in ten minutes.
They played with the light armor for another couple of days, then were back to training with just their own muscles. Bergstrom was once again having problems, but training with the armor seemed to have increased her determination, and she fought through all the obstacles, as did all the rest of the platoon.
Finally the day came they had all been waiting for. Graduation. Everyone stood in formation on the drill field for a final time, the other platoons in the company lined up to their left, while the other companies of the battalion continued down the field.
Cornelius stood at the head of his squad, a position he had held the entire nine weeks of training. He wondered if he would have lasted the regular twelve weeks of training, before it had been shortened so they could get more people quickly through the pipeline. Of course I would have, he thought, looking toward the other side of the drill field where new barracks were going up, the expansion of Camp Determination proceeding at breakneck speed.
Every trainee was wearing their dress blues, each with a weapon qualification medal on their left breast. Some had rank on their sleeves, private or PFC stripes. Only one other person had another medal, and Cornelius looked with pride on the Imperial Medal of Heroism he wore around his neck. And much of that pride was that he had been cut no slack due to having that medal. He had wanted to leave it in its box for this ceremony, but had been told in no uncertain terms that it was his, so he would wear it.
As he passed by the reviewing stand the General in charge of the base rendered the hand salute first, observing the protocol that went with the medal. Every other platoon behind him had to salute first.
Normally there was a short leave that came with graduating basic. That also had been dropped due to the contingencies of war. Cornelius was just as happy to get on the transport to another camp across the continent, where he would undergo infantry training, and get him one step closer to his goal.
* * *
The Emperor sat with his head in his hands, thinking about what he had just learned from the staff officer. Over a billion dead, he thought, looking again at the list of systems in Sector Four that had fallen.
“We’ve been able to get soldiers into most of those systems,” said Grand Marshal Mishori Yamakuri, pointing a finger at the holo map. “The wormholes are working.”
“Yeah,” said Sean, looking at the map with a concerned expression. “So we’re getting more young men and women into the firing line on planets the enemy has already all but taken. But is that benefiting us?”
“We have had a favorable exchange rate so far,” said the Army Chief of Staff. “I wish I could report some crushing victories. Unfortunately, I would be lying. But in a war of attrition we are accomplishing what we need to do. Their ground troops are dying, even in the places where we are fighting without control of the orbitals.”
“And what do you think we need to put on those planets?” asked Sean, running the casualty figures through his head. “More heavy infantry?” He thought of what he had seen of the Marine heavy infantry on Sestius. But of course they had controlled the orbitals there. The medium infantry on the planet had fought hard, but had still had its head handed to it, due to the fact that the enemy had air and space superiority.
“I think we need more special ops forces,” said the Army Chief of Staff. “Rangers from my service. Naval Commandos and Marine Recon from my sister service.” Mishori nodded toward Grand High Admiral Sondra McCollum, the CNO. “We need soldiers who can strike quickly and quietly, while not attracting undue attention from above.”
“So get those people where we need them,” said the Emperor, looking at both Chiefs, then over at field Marshal Betty Parker, Commandant of the Imperial Marine Corps.
“The problem, your Majesty,” said Parker, “is that those people are in limited supply. It takes a special person to make it into special ops. And due to the, adjustments, we make on them, they all have to be volunteers.”
“Not that we’ll have much trouble getting volunteers,” said McCollum. “The problem still lies in getting the right people.”
“So, how many do we have on hand right now?” asked Sean.
“Let’s see,” said Mishori, calling up some information on his flatcomp. “I have seventy-six battalions, plus some reserves. So let’s say eighty thousand Rangers.”
“We have three hundred companies of Naval Commandos,” said McCollum, looking up from her comp. “Plus reserves. So maybe sixty thousand.”
“And thirty thousand for us,” said Parker.
“So a total of one hundred and seventy thousand,” said Sean, nodding his head. “That seems like a lot.”
“The total manpower of the Imperial Military is well over two hundred million,” said Mishori, shaking his head. “So it is a very low percentage, about point zero eight five percent.”
“Look,” said Sean, leaning forward. “We’ve got shortages in everything. Negative matter, wormholes, hulls. But we can augment these people with some nanites and training. So let’s get some more special ops people in the pipeline. Without diluting the quality. We’re going to have another three hundred million people in uniform before the year is out. So surely you can get another two hundred and fifty thousand augmented soldiers out of that.”
“It still takes time to train them, your Majesty,” said Parker. “I wish it didn’t, but it takes a year to train a Recon Marine. And I’m sure as long to make Rangers and Commandos.”
Sean sat there, looking at his service chiefs in disbelief, wondering how many more billions of subjects he would lose in that year.
Chapter Two
You can't say civilization don't advance... in every war they kill you in a new way. Will Rogers.
PLANET AZURE, JULY 30th, 1000.
Dad is going to kill me, thought twelve year old Rebecca Goldman, looking into the blue tinted forest of Azure. Why the hell did Benjamin have to go running off when I wasn’t looking.
The white F1 star was starting to slant to the west, and there were still six hours of the sixteen hour temperate day to go. Rebecca looked up at the sun, glad for once that it was summer, despite the heat. In the winter she would have only had a twelve hour day a
t this latitude, and a long sixteen hour night. Not that the jungles of the class two planet, the second most dangerous of the life classifications, weren’t dangerous in the day. They were just much more dangerous at night.
Her eyes started to hurt slightly from looking up at the star, despite her protective contacts. Her skin was burning slightly as well, despite her dark brown skin. That part didn’t worry her much. At most she would get a slight sunburn from this day, and her skin nanites would heal that within hours.
“Benjamin,” she yelled out, looking into the jungle, with was writhing slightly as the plantimals moved, trying to get the most light they could reach around the canopy of the true plants. “Where the hell are you, you idiot?”
They had Temple tonight, and mom and dad would know something was wrong if they didn’t show up before nightfall. She checked the calendar in her implant, tempted for a moment to call for help. She decided against the course of action, hoping she could still get the little twerp and not get into trouble for not watching him.
Why the hell did mom and dad have to get the little shit a kitten, she thought, remembering that she was actually looking for two children. Shavu’ot was two months ago by the Galactic calendar that almost everyone used to track religious and Empire wide holidays across the huge expanse of space and time. That same calendar was used to track official birthdays and ages, though the five hundred and ninety four day local calendar was used for planetary holidays and events. Religious groups were allowed to use either scale as they wished, and Rebecca’s family, as Moderate Jews, followed the Galactic Calendar based on the old Earth measure. And her parents had gotten Benjamin a kitten for the celebration.
She studied the life in front of her. She wasn’t too worried about the plants, though there were some nasty specimens on the planet. As long as she didn’t rub against any of the known hazardous ones she would be fine. The plantimals were another story. The fourth macroscopic kingdom of the planet, all possessed movement, some limited, some not. There were carnivores, herbivores and omnivores among the strange creatures. And of course there were the animals, some of which were truly horrible.
Rebecca steeled her courage and went over the fence into the biome beyond. Nothing from the kingdoms of the planet were supposed to be able to make it past that barrier. She felt the low level sonics as she passed, rattling her teeth. Enough to discourage any animal or plantimal. On the human side of the barrier the nanites would take over. Anything from the plant and fungal kingdoms would be attacked as soon as it entered forbidden space. She knew that right now she was being assaulted by the microorganisms of the planet. Most would not find a foothold on her totally foreign cells. The ones that did would be attacked by her own nanites.
“Benjamin,” she yelled walking slowly under the canopy of blue leafed trees. “Benjamin, where are you.”
Some of the plantimals oriented to her voice and she stopped yelling. None looked like carnivores this close to the human habitat. Those were normally hunted out to keep from gathering in numbers so close, but she wasn’t willing to take any chances. There was some rustling through the shrubbery, animals. But were they trying to get at her, or away from her?
There was a squeal, and a plantimal of a type she hadn’t seen before hefted a struggling six legged animal up on a spiked branch. The animal was small, less than ten kilograms, and had a smooth blue tinted skin. It squealed again, and the plantimal moved it over a central orifice and dropped it into an ingestion chamber.
She was trying to find a path that wouldn’t take her near the carnivore when something else came along that made both the way and the danger moot. The beast was at least four meters high at the shoulder, and must have weighed a couple of tons in the heavy gravity. It walked up to the plantimal and started to munch on it, ignoring the spiked branches that bounced off its hard scaly hide.
Rebecca thought she had heard something. She wasn’t sure, but she started in that direction, checking her pistol to make sure it was set where she wanted it. Everyone on this developing world carried. Everyone, as soon as they were considered old enough to be trusted with a weapon. Six year old Benjamin wasn’t of age, and the most he would carry would be a sonic that was hoped to be capable of chasing any native animals away.
Rebecca moved on, through the shadows that still let in enough light from the white star to see clearly. There were paths through the foliage, made by large herbivores that needed space to move their bulks. And used by the large carnivores that hunted them. Her heart was beating fast at the thought of running into one of the latter.
“Help,” yelled out a voice from deeper in the jungle. The low hum of a sonic sounded as well, and then the deep roar of something that was not enjoying the touch of sound.
“Benjamin,” yelled Rebecca, breaking into a run through the foliage, trusting in luck to not rub against anything that might hurt her. Why did I come out here, she thought, her eyes darting in all directions as she ran. I should have called Rescue in on this one. With that thought she sent a message through her link. Punishment was the last thing on her mind now. Survival was.
The yells were clearer now, along with more roars than could be accounted for by only one creature. The sound of the sonic was continuous, something really beyond the capability of the small device, which was sure to overload any moment.
Rebecca took in the scene in the small clearing as soon as she entered. There were a half dozen hell hounds in the clearing, their lean three meter long bodies moving around a tree on the other side. Muscles moved smoothly under their blue tinted skins, and their muzzles were retracted, showing an alarming array of sharp teeth. One of them yipped and moved away, the victim of the sonic. As it moved Rebecca saw her younger brother sheltering in the bowel of the tree, sonic on his right wrist swinging around, while his left arm held a small ginger kitten tightly. She could see the tears rolling down the face of her little brother, and all anger was gone for the moment.
Rebecca had never shot a living thing in her life. Her dad had made sure she had spent some time on the range, until she was proficient with the mag pistol. Now she took aim at the closest of the hell hounds and squeezed, sending the high velocity round center mass into the carnivore. The beast yipped as the round tore through its chest, then fell bonelessly to the ground. She switched aim to another and squeezed, putting a round into its hind quarters. Not a kill, but the wounded beast moved back. She shifted her feet and fired at another, the round cracking by the head of the beast in a clean miss.
The pack reoriented on her, ignoring the small morsel they had trapped under the tree. It was good that they were ignoring her brother, not so good that they were coming at her. She knew there was no way she could take out the four beasts before they tore her apart. There were no trees in sight that looked climbable, plus the beasts were good climbers themselves. She said a quick prayer and shot down one of the beasts, then closed her eyes as the last three headed for her, blood in their eyes.
The crack of rounds sounded through the clearing, and Rebecca looked up to see a trio of armored humans falling from the sky. Rescue had arrived, and a few shots chased the remaining hell hounds back into the jungle. Moments later she and her brother, kitten in hand, were being lifted up to the large aircar with the Rescue logo on it.
* * *
“What in the hell were you thinking, little girl?” asked Joseph Goldman, looking down on his daughter.
Rebecca hated being called little girl, a term her dad was careful not to use on her, unless he was very angry.
“Well, answer me.”
“I messed up,” she said, trying to keep the tears out of her eyes. “I wasn’t watching, and the little shit got away from me.”
“Don’t call your little brother that name,” yelled her mom, Sarah. “How in the hell did that kitten get out of our yard anyway? I thought the chip was supposed to prevent that.”
“It wasn’t chipped,” said Joseph, a pained look on his face.
“You gave your
child an animal that wasn’t chipped?” asked Sarah in her most frigid tone.
“I assumed it was,” said Joseph, looking down. “It will be, now.”
Rebecca smiled inwardly. The pressure was off of her, for the moment, though her dad wouldn’t forget, and she would hear about it again. That dad had gotten a kitten without the chip that kept domesticated animals and pets from wandering off of peoples’ property, and into the dangerous jungle, put him in the hot seat with her mom.
Finally the parents settled the argument, for the moment. It was time for dinner, and her mom was not about to let the children go hungry just to continue a fight. As Moderate Jews they didn’t keep a Kosher table, though her mom tried to keep it as close as possible. There was corned beef, potatoes and a salad, and from the way he ate it was as if the little shit hadn’t been scared half to death just hours before.
The next day was school, and Rebecca thought she would spend some time playing with her VR console before bedtime. She really didn’t like school. She liked learning, especially about her home world, the planet that would be her own at least until she reached adulthood. She just didn’t like the socializing, the main purpose behind still holding classroom instruction.
She had just plugged into the VR and was in a world of her own when she was booted out, and she turned toward her door to see her dad standing there.
“I am still angry that you let your brother get out of your sight,” said the man in a soft voice. “I take some responsibility for it. Shouldn’t have given him an unchipped cat like I did. Still, you have some fault.”
“And I am very sorry,” said Rebecca. Next time I’ll lock him in his room.
“I know you are, honey. And I also want to tell you how proud I am of you. You should have called Rescue as soon as you knew where he had gone. But if you hadn’t have followed him when you did he would be resting in the bellies of those hell hounds.”
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 05 - Ranger Page 3