After a brief breakfast in the Marine Mess, N’Valri escorted her to the ship’s medbay to start her processing. Kaly didn’t understand what this meant until she arrived.
The medics subjected her to every kind of test imaginable, and by the time she had departed, the area around her inocular was numb from all of the immunizations and samples that they’d taken from her. Her processing was far from over though. N’Valri led her to another part of the ship, which she learned was the library. A Navy crewwoman was on duty, and she assigned them to an empty computer station. Then the Corporal brought up what Kaly realized was some kind of test on the holo-screen.
“This is the CAFAT program,” N’Valri informed her. “The Combined Armed Forces Aptitude Test. It’s designed to assess your skills and help you to select your MOS.”
“My MOS?” Kaly asked.
“Your job in the Marines,” the woman replied. “You don’t think everyone in the Marines is a ground-pounder do you? There’s all sorts of jobs in the Corps and this test helps determine which ones you’re best suited for.”
“But I want to be a ground-pounder!” Kaly insisted.
“Really?” N’Valri asked incredulously. “Well, before you declare that for your MOS, take a look at the other jobs first. Then if you decide you don’t want them, and your heart is still set on being a ground-pounder, just make sure to answer every test question wrong, and while you’re at it, find a way to break the terminal. That should give you the qualifying score you’ll need for Mobile Infantry Specialist.”
Kaly gave her a bewildered look, and the Corporal clapped her on the shoulder and laughed.
“I’m just kidding girl! Do the best you can, and if you want MIS, then declare it when the CAFAT asks you. But if you want my advice, go for a support specialty. You’ll be a lot happier and you’ll live a lot longer. I’ll come get you when the test is over.” With that, the Corporal left her at the terminal.
The CAFAT test covered everything that she’d learned (or had tried to learn) in her primary education, along with basic intelligence tests and problem solving exercises. At the very end, the program calculated her score and presented a list of jobs that were available to her.
Kaly was tempted to locate the MOS for Mobile Infantry Specialist and get it over with, but she did as N’Valri had instructed, and dutifully went through the list. Some of the jobs were obvious, while others had obscure titles that utterly mystified her. Fortunately, the entries were interactive, and the program soon helped her to understand each job and its basic responsibilities. But in the end, none of them appealed to her like the Mobile Infantry Specialist did. When the program finally asked her to declare her choice, Kaly made it.
Right on time, N’Valri arrived to escort her to her bunk assignment. “I see you stuck with your decision,” she sighed, glancing over at the holo-screen. “Oh well. You can’t say that I didn’t try to warn you. Let’s get you down to Five-Bar and get you settled.”
Kaly gave her another puzzled look, and the Corporal explained.
“’Five-Bar’ is the unofficial name for the deck set aside for the Marines on an Isis class ship,” she said. “That’s where we stay when we’re not doing something else. It’s nice, just like home.”
For some reason, the woman found this highly amusing and laughed. Without elaborating, she led Kaly through another series of corridors and down a lift to the Marine Quarters.
Five-Bar proved to be a series of large rooms or “pods” as the Corporal referred to them, separated by common areas, and restroom facilities. Each of the pods was subdivided by rows of partitions, and in each of these were niches with beds inside of them, stacked two high.
Every bed had drawers underneath it for storage, and there was shelf space above the head and foot, and along the interior wall, which offered additional places for stowing personal effects and small items. They also had their own overhead lights, and privacy drapes, many of which Kaly saw, had been replaced by their occupants with colorful fabrics. And at the end of each row of sleeping spaces, set in the bulkhead, were large lockers for heavier gear.
The Corporal guided her through the pods until they reached a partition in the very last one, and indicated the bed there.
“This is your rack until you ship out for Basic Training,” N’Valri said indicating the space.
“My ‘rack’?”
“Your bed,” she told her. “That’s what we call it in the Marines. You’ve got a whole new language to learn, girl.”
“Yes. Thank you, ma’am,” Kaly said.
N’Valri shook her head. “Goddess, I’d forgotten just how much a hatchie has to learn. Get this in your head: I’m no ‘ma’am’, hatchie. I’m just a Corporal. ’Ma’am’s’ are officers, lieutenants and above.”
Kaly blushed as she realized that she had just made the same error that she had with the Troop Leader. “Yes, Corporal,” she replied. Then she asked, “Corporal, what’s a ‘hatchie?’”
“Oh you should get very used to being called that,” N’Valri answered. “That’s what all new recruits are. It’s short for ‘hatchling,’ which is what you are; still wet behind the ears from your mama’s belly, and brand new to the universe. But, trust me, they’ll get you dried out real good on Hella’s World.”
N’Valri started to leave, but when she saw that the girl was still standing there without the faintest idea of what to do next, she paused.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said, “Since you don’t have anything to do until you get to Basic except lie here, I have two choices. I can dream up shess-work for you, or I can give you a leg up. What’ll it be? I’m not going to make the choice for you, but I’d strongly suggest taking the leg up.”
“A leg up?”
“Yes, something to help you prep for Basic. I’ll look around and see if I can get my hands on an extra copy of the Grey Book for you. It’ll help you start learning about being a Marine.”
“Thank you, Corporal!” Kaly said earnestly.
“Don’t thank me,” N’Valri replied. “That way you might actually learn something and I won’t have to worry about you getting under my feet. You see? There’s something in it for both of us, klaar?”
“Yes, Corporal.”
“I’ll also dig up a pathminder for you so that you can find your own way around the ship,” the Corporal added.
“So that you don’t have to lead me around?”
“Now, you’re getting it! I can see we’re going to get along just great! Just remember to stay out of the restricted areas and leave everyone alone to do their jobs. And if an emergency happens, do what you’re told and don’t try to play the heroine. That’ll just get you and everyone around you kakked, zat klaar?”
“Klaar, Corporal.”
Sometime later, another Marine, a Private from the look of her, brought Kaly a holoreader with a copy of the Grey Book on it. “The Book” as it was nicknamed, covered everything from basic ranks, occupational specialties, Marine values, drills, and even military law. In short, everything that she would be expected to know in order to graduate Basic.
Kaly tore into The Book eagerly, trying to devour all the information that it contained in just one sitting. After just a few hours of trying however, her head was spinning. She hadn’t counted on just how much there was to know.
That night, as she lay on her rack staring up at the plastic ceiling above her, she fought to suppress her excitement, and her rising apprehension. Just before lights out, the Corporal had returned and informed her that their ship would be rendezvousing the following day with another, smaller vessel that was heading towards her ultimate destination, the USSMC Marine Training Facility on Hella’s World. From the way the Corporal and the The Book had described the process, her training there wasn’t going to be easy by any means, and many who went through it, ultimately failed to meet the challenge.
“I’ll make it,” she vowed. “I’ll make it and I’ll be a Marine.”
USSNS Pallas Athena, In
Orbit, Persephone, Demeter System, Sagana Territory, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1043.01|05|04:33:31
When the relief Battle Group arrived, Lilith and Katrinn were standing by on the bridge. The sitscreens showed an Isis-Class supercruiser and four smaller Chandi-Class cruisers coming out of Null, followed in train by a trio of vessels bearing the familiar red pentagram of the Red Star Relief Organization.
A holo of Commander Shaaron n’Dani of the Pelé, Battle Group Silver, appeared before them. “Bian dea, Commander ben Jeni,” she said. “My apologies for the long delay in getting here, but we had to wait for the Red Star ships.”
The civilian disaster relief organization typically handled situations like Persephone, and Lilith understood N’Dani’s situation perfectly. With increased Hriss raids on outlying colonies, the Red Star had their work cut out for them, and their resources were stretched thin. The little group of ships following the battle group had probably been gathered together from several neighboring Elants.
“Not a problem, Commander n’Dani,” she replied. “We’re glad to see you, and I know that the refugees will feel the same way. Will you require anything from us before we depart?”
“No, ma’am,” N’Dani answered. “In fact, I was given orders to tell you to return to Rixa without delay. Something’s coming up and they wanted your battle group to rest up and rearm for it.”
“Well, you won’t get any argument from us,” Lilith smiled. Shore leave sounded very good to her. “We’ll be under-weigh in half an hour. Good luck on Persephone, Commander. They’re pretty shot-up down there.”
“Thank you, Commander. And good luck with whatever it is that Rixa has planned.” N’Dani cut the connection.
Lilith turned to her second “Well, Kat? It seems that we may have a little vacation time on our hands when we get back to Rixa. Any plans?”
“I’m of a mind to go home for a bit,” the Zommerlaandar replied. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen the farm. How about you?”
“I’m not sure,” Lilith said, considering her options. She didn’t have many. Her Helmsmistress, Caleda bel Tridis, had offered to take her to visit the deep deserts of her motherworld, Kevan, on their next leave, but the prospect of what would probably turn out to be a hot and dirty experience looking at a lot of bare rocks and sand didn’t overly thrill her. And Quela bel Heela, her Environmental Systems Chief, had offered to show her the sights on Thermadon, but Lilith wasn’t in the mood for the frenetic pace that the Capitol tended to set.
“Well, why not come with me?” Katrinn offered. Although she’d extolled the virtues of Zommerlaand to her many times, Lilith had never joined her Second on her infrequent visits there.
“You know, maybe that would be a nice trip,” Lilith agreed. “All right, Kat, my answer is yes. I suppose it’s high time that I saw this paradise of yours.”
“Gaanskaa gaad,” Katrinn said. “I’ll tell Navcom to send word to my folks. You’ll like the farm.”
USSMC Training Facility, 75th Training Battalion, Hella’s World, Hecate System, Artemi Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1043.01|06|03:43:33
The final leg of Kaly’s journey to Hella’s World was aboard a crowded shuttle launched from the naval transport ship, the USSNS Madeline Moore. The vessel was packed with new recruits and the air fairly crackled with their collective anticipation. Kaly, crammed in the middle of an aisle of seats did her best to stay relaxed, but with two hours to go before they were downside, this was hard to manage. Her mind was going at light speed, alternating between fear and elation.
One of her neighbors, a sophisticated-looking dark haired woman several years her senior, sensed this and smiled at her.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “We’ll get there soon enough. Enjoy the time you have right now. Trust me, you’ll look back on your last few hours as a civilian and miss them.”
Kaly smiled. “I’m just a little nervous, I guess.”
“We all are,” her companion assured her. “This is a big step, no matter who you are. I know what it’s like. I went partway through Basic when I was about your age, and then I opted out. After a few years, I realized what a mistake I’d made and re-upped. Now, here I am. The name’s Jana, by the way. Jana bel Anny. What’s yours?”
“Kaly n’Deena.”
“Pleased to meet you, Kaly. Where are you from?” Bel Anny inquired.
“Persephone,” she replied in a quiet voice.
“Persephone!? Wasn’t that where—?”
“Yes,” Kaly answered, her features clouding.
“I’m sorry,” Bel Anny said. “I suppose you’re going to get a lot of women asking you about that.”
“It’s fine,” Kaly responded. “Really.” She realized that she should have known that the raid might have made the news. And that people, being people, would have questions about what had happened there. It was something that she was going to have to get used to, she realized, at least until everyone’s attention wandered off to something else.
“Where are you from?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Thermadon,” Bel Anny replied. “I’m a city girl from the Apollonia District. And this is my friend Berta Enggredsdaater, fresh from the wheat fields of Zommerlaand.” Bel Anny indicated a large blond woman to her left. “She doesn’t talk much.”
The giantess rewarded Kaly with a short nod and half a smile.
“And in the next seat over, hiding behind her, is Lena n’Gari. She’s from over Esyllt way, in the Marpesa Elant.”
An attractive redhead with a girlish band of freckles painted across her face, leaned out from her seat and smiled shyly. If anything, N’Gari seemed even younger than she was, and Kaly wondered if the petite girl had lied about her age to get into the Marines.
“It looks like we’re from just about every corner of the Sisterhood,” Bel Anny observed. “We’re some funny looking bunch, nyah?”
Kaly had to giggle. Bel Anny was right; their little group was probably the most mismatched collection of would-be warrioresses that she could have ever imagined.
“So? What’s your MOS going to be when you get out of Basic?” Bel Anny asked.
Kaly replied without hesitation. “Mobile Infantry Specialist.”
“Goddess help us! She’s as warpy as we are,” Bel Anny laughed. “We’re all going for Mobile Infantry. Hey, maybe we’ll be in the same training platoon together! That would be great! Hella’s World is a One Station Unit Training Base. That means they train for Basic and Mobile Infantry. What do you think?”
“Yeah, maybe we will,” Kaly agreed. “That would be good.” She liked Bel Anny, and her friends, and she said a little prayer to the Goddess that the woman’s wish would be granted.
***
The shuttle touched down on Hella’s World, and the egress hatches opened out onto a blast furnace of a planet. A thick wave of hot air penetrated the cabin immediately. Everyone, including Kaly, broke into an instant sweat.
“Alright hatchies!” someone yelled from the front of the shuttle cabin, “grab your gear and get your asses off this shuttle now! Burn it!” A tough looking woman in grey fatigues, and wearing a Troop Leader’s insignia, came down the aisle as Kaly hurried to undo her seatbelt.
“Get the fek up hatchie or I’ll rip you right out of that seat!” the woman screamed. Kaly quickly found the catch, and the thing released itself without a fight. She sprang out of her seat immediately and rushed past the woman to the exit with the other recruits.
Outside, another Troop Leader was waiting for them, hollering at the top of her lungs for everyone to form up and then run with their gear as she led the way. Kaly ran for all she was worth, not sure what was going to happen next.
The terrified group left the tarmac and sprinted through a collection of small buildings until they reached a large assembly area with neat rows of footprints painted on the concrete. There, the recruits were ordered to drop their gear and find a spot to stand on.
A trio of Drill Instructors stood
silently in front of the painted spaces, their hands clasped smartly behind their backs. From her Grey Book, and the conversations that she had had with Corporal n’Valri, Kaly knew that these three women, whom the Corporal had nicknamed ‘the Three Fates’, were going to be their training instructors for the duration of Basic.
When everyone had found their places, the Senior Drill Instructor stepped forwards. She wasn’t the tall Zommerlaandar that Kaly had pictured in her mind when she’d imagined what a Senior DI would look like. Instead, she was short and dark, and Kaly guessed that she was a Kalian.
Despite her small stature, however, Kaly could tell that under her perfectly pressed grey fatigues, every centimeter of her was hard muscle. And despite the oppressive heat, there was not a drop of sweat anywhere on the woman.
The DI looked over the recruits with her small, dark eyes and smiled, but there was nothing friendly about her expression. “On behalf of our commanding officer, Col. Rayna n’Pela and the 75th Training Battalion,” she said, “welcome to Hella’s World, ladies.’
“You are now members of Training Platoon Carli, Company 1403, and you have been given the privilege of training here with us. Our motto is; ‘That which does not kill you makes you stronger. And that which does kill you makes you useless to the Corps.’ You will commit these words of wisdom to your memory.’
“If you complete your training, you will be privileged to wear two emblems on your uniform. The first will be the insignia of the Sisterhood Marines; the sun, sword and the starship. The second will be the Eye of the Goddess.’
“The sun, sword and the starship embody the mission of the Corps: the sun for the worlds that we are willing to give up our lives to protect, the sword for our unwavering defense, and the starship for our mobility and readiness.’
“The Eye is a symbol that tells everyone that you graduated from the toughest Marine training facility anywhere in the Sisterhood, Hella’s World. Whoever sees these two emblems together on your uniform will know immediately that you are one of the best of the best of the Corps.’
Sisterhood of Suns: Pallas Athena Page 15