Full Metal Heroine: A Military Space Opera Adventure (Lady Hellgate Book 2)

by Greg Dragon

  10

  Tasmin Rose wasn’t sure what would happen once she got on board the Marine’s warship. She didn’t know if the sergeant would have her locked in the cargo hold away from his crew and Marines.

  While he had escorted her out of the hub to the mixed reactions of her neighbors, she had overheard him talking on the comms. He had come to the conclusion that the attack had been planned and set into action after many months of waiting. SatSec had been contacted by an external force and had amassed enough men to make a move on the satellite.

  Now the question was whether or not other hubs around Vestalia would be targets. They had weighed their options: they could visit another hub or waste no more time investigating and make the trip back home. Most wanted the action, but it was a tough decision, so they sent word to the Aqnaqak that they were coming home.

  While this was going on, Tasmin was escorted to her compartment, which was through a tight passageway littered with Marines. “Is that a gift for me?” one of them said to the corporal escorting her through.

  “Don’t you like them younger?” her escort said, which she thought was a serious reply until the two of them laughed as he let them pass.

  As they walked through the ship, she was called all sorts of names that alluded to her being a “pleasure girl” and one of them even grabbed her arm as she walked past. Tasmin squirmed and tried to pull away, which only seemed to encourage him.

  “Let me go,” she shouted and looked around for help. The corporal stepped in between them but the man didn’t budge. Just then a larger rank who wore a sergeant’s patch on his uniform walked up to them and then the man quickly released her arm.

  “Sorry about that,” the corporal said as they reached a ladderwell at the end of the passageway. “Most of these men have been grounded for several months and have forgotten how to behave around civilians.”

  “That’s no excuse. I gave no invitation,” she said. “Even men on the hub know not to violate women like that. He’s lucky. You know some of the girls; they carry knives tainted with poison. If he grabbed one of them the way he just grabbed me, he would’ve been screaming for hours.” She thought of the spike that was in her pocket and how close she had gotten to using it.

  “Well, lucky for him you aren’t one of those women, but he will be disciplined for assaulting a guest.”

  “Who was the big guy?”

  “That was Gunnery Sergeant Ruthis Cain. Probably the worst person to see that little exchange, considering how serious he is about the reputation of this Corps.”

  Tasmin felt vindicated. That violator is going to get it, just like the thypes who hurt my family once the Alliance catches up with them.

  It was hard to imagine the sort of hell that the Marines would bring to the lesser trained SatSec bunch, but she believed that it would be righteous, and for the moment that was good enough.

  “This is you,” the corporal said suddenly, gesturing to a door. It had no number on the outside like the others she’d walked past on her way to this area. It was much smaller than her room inside her parent’s crate on the hub, and when she stepped inside, she noticed that the corporal didn’t follow.

  “Sergeant Arc asks that you not wander too far from your compartment,” he said, “And if you do need to leave, radio one of us first.”

  “Is it that dangerous on this ship?” she said, confused since they were Alliance.

  “It can be for a civilian, especially if we get boarded, attacked, or have to go through emergency protocol. See, everyone here is trained for drama, whereas you are our guest and ill-prepared for just about anything.” He handed her several MREs, a blanket, and an entertainment tablet. “I loaded it up with a variety of vids since I don’t know what you’re into, but there should be enough on that thing to keep you entertained for a year. Have a question, buzz me on this thing,” and he tapped the comms that was near the door.

  “Thank you,” Tasmin said.

  “You got it, and um…” He looked around and then stepped in close to her, which caused her to flinch and back away from him.

  “I, um, well see, me and the uh, guys and gals that came on your level to speak to you. We just wanted to tell you how sorry we are for what happened to your folks. We’re disappointed and enraged by this betrayal of men and women in uniform. Really, Alliance preying on the poor citizens of the hub. You don’t get any lower than that.”

  He waited as if to see how she would respond, and then his face revealed his realization that she was frightened of him being inside her compartment. “I’ll let you unwind, ma’am, and like I said, hit that comms if any of these thrust heads bother you.”

  “It’s Tasmin Rose,” she said softly. “But my friends call me Taz. I can take care of myself, Corporal …” She leaned forward to scan the name hanging from his necklace.

  “Corporal Kian Dul, but you can call me Major.”

  “Major? But your rank says corporal,” Tasmin said, wondering if he was pulling her leg.

  Kian laughed. “No, not Major as in Major Kian Dul, though I love how it sounds, but Major as in ‘major pain in the rear.’”

  “Okay, Major, thanks for the tour, and if I need help with anything, I will contact you on the comms.”

  When he was gone and the door shut, Tasmin found herself conflicted. She was on a vessel, and not just any vessel, but an assault ship filled with real Marines. There was no vid or comic book that could replicate the experience that she was about to have, and she felt like pinching herself to see if it really was happening.

  That was the upside to the emotions she felt, but this lucky trip came at the price of the kidnapping of her entire family. If she could give it all up for the price of being stuck on the hub, then she would happily do it and go back to being that ignorant girl, chasing the pipe dream of being an officer in the SatSec ranks.

  She looked around her new compartment and forced a smile on her face. She had left the hub, which was a matter of luck and the tragic situation, but still she was on a ship, and as an accomplishment, this was up there for a resident of Syr. Sure, she would be relocated when it was over, hopefully with her family in tow, but she would have had adventures and at the very least been around the Alliance Marines, and the greatest part of it all, was that they gave her own space.

  It was an equipment locker that had been cleared out when the sergeant made the order to bring her on board. There was a stack of crates with a bedroll on top of it, along with a couple of pillows. It was not as comfortable as the cot that she had at home, but she thought that it was adorable. There was another crate near the door with a bit of cloth draped over it. On its surface was a plate and a cup, next to a stack of hard-packaged rations.

  Tasmin sat at this “table” and placed her face inside her hands, feeling the purring of the ship’s thrust and listening to the Marines argue outside her door. She thought about her father and how he would lose his mind if he was to see his precious baby girl on a ship full of boys and “girls who may as well be boys”.

  The thought made her smile as she imagined him growing angry, lashing out at the Marines and then turning the rage on her when he saw that he couldn’t beat them. Her father was a constant source of disappointment, though she did love him to Louine and back. For his shortcomings she had blamed her mother, who always had an excuse for him.

  Jacqueline Rose was strong in all senses of the word except when it came to her husband, Romul. She would push out all this righteousness and act infallible in her judgment, but when her husband wasn’t doing his part she would have none of that judgment for him.

  These complex memories would frustrate Tasmin to no end because she’d go from being angry at him to remembering the times when he was just dad. Getting in with SatSec was a way to escape her dysfunction, and she used to dream about the day when she’d return having graduated, uniformed and trained.

  Now that day would never come, since SatSec were now pirates who had taken her fam
ily away. She couldn’t help but feel guilty for being the only one that escaped. All because of what, her decision to take a shower?

  The irony of her rebellion being the reason for her fate was not lost as her fingers worked a relaxing massage into her frazzled skull. There was a knock on the door and she stood up slowly, expecting the Marine from before. “Major?” she said.

  “No, Sergeant, Sergeant Arc. Miss Tasmin Rose, if you’re available, I would like to have a word with you.”

  “Please come in,” she said, reaching forward to unlatch the door. She hadn’t expected the sergeant, but he was a pleasant surprise regardless.

  The giant slipped inside and Tasmin stared at him with disbelief. He looked as if his mass took up half the livable space. He motioned for her to take a seat and when she did, he leaned against the door and pointed to the stack of rations. “Eat something, Tasmin,” he said, with that commanding inflection which made her feel the need to comply without any sort of argument.

  She did just that, peeling open one of the packages. Inside was a creamy block, which she lifted up to her nose and sniffed. It smelled like a shoe, and tasted a slight bit better, but after a few more bites, she was used to the taste and looked up at the sergeant and nodded.

  “Tasmin,” he said. “I came to ask you about those men. Several of your neighbors claimed that they recognized some of the pirates. They said they were Marines who would visit your markets throughout the year.”

  “I wouldn’t call it visiting,” she said under her breath, and then twisted her mouth as she recalled. “Lots of these visitors call themselves soldiers. They lie to give us false hope so that they can sleep with us for free. Lots of dumb girls believe their schtill and fool themselves into thinking that opening their legs is the way off our satellite. They get roped along for months, not realizing that they’re getting tricked.”

  “What do you mean, tricked?” the sergeant said.

  “I mean tricked as in letting themselves fall for these men. One girl I know, Megan Dor, she got a loaf of Meluvian hard bread. It took her a month to finish that thing,” Tasmin said, laughing suddenly, surprising herself. “That cruta wanted to savor the only thing she ever received from that man. It’s rule number one as a girl from a hub, Sergeant. Never give your heart to outsiders, especially the handsome kind calling themselves soldiers.”

  “So, what happened to the bread? Did she just nibble a bit every day?”

  “No, she actually stored it until Lavelle, the leader of one of the gangs, found out about it. They beat her up and then they took it and that was that. They didn’t need to hurt her, considering the fight was already gone from her spirit. When her so-called Marine boyfriend stopped coming around, she had given up on life. See that’s what they do, they use you up until they get bored and then they stop coming, moving on to another hub. I know the type alright, but I didn’t recognize any of them when they came aboard.”

  “Those aren’t Marines, Tasmin. Those are impostors. I’m thinking dishonored ex-military, or thugs that became organized. It’s a shame to see the conditions of our satellites, and even worse is hearing that we have outlaws taking advantage of you all.”

  “Does the Alliance even care?” Tasmin said, sitting back to regard him. “I’ve been in those conditions my whole life, and my parents before me, and everyone I know. No one comes to help, and repairs go unchecked for months on end. But Hub people are tough, we figure out how to fix our own problems.”

  “If it were up to me, ma’am, I’d make sure that our hubs were provided for. I can’t speak for our Alliance heads, but with the lizards on a mission to wipe out our people, all resources have been going to the Navy. I tell you this for you to realize that it isn’t an easy decision. The lizards are everywhere, and when we got your call, we thought they were the ones raiding the hub. Now, for it to be humans, that is problematic, but they will be dealt with sooner than later.”

  “Thanks,” Tasmin said, and looked down at her hands. She’d spoken with pride about her people but deep down she was actually ashamed of them. Most of her neighbors had given up, and if she was being honest her parents had given up as well. Out of her immediate group of friends she had been the only one wanting off the satellite.

  Most of their goals were minuscule, like, “I want to open a stall to sell vids,” or “I want to become a crate repairman.”

  Her parents had been the same set of unambitious lifers that grew up on Syr. They had never been off the hub and had never been to an actual planet or moon. Clouds, mountains, even craters on a surface, these were the images of fantasy to them, but Tasmin had wanted to experience these things and thought SatSec was her ticket to doing so.

  “I’ll let you get settled in here and take this information back to my superiors,” Sergeant Arc said. “Thanks for bringing this to my attention. Now I’ll leave you to get some rest. There’s some excitement on the horizon, and we’re going to need you alert and ready.”

  “You can count on me, Sergeant Arc,” she said, trying to sound grown-up and brave. “Like I said, hub people are tough. Whenever you need my help, I’ll be in here waiting.”

  11

  Like Meluvia, the planet Arbar was similar to Vestalia in that it had oxygen sufficient enough to support life. It was a water planet with an abundance of land masses, each with its own sovereign nation with their own sets of rules and laws. Due to this, Arbar was perpetually at war with itself and thus unable to have a seat at the Alliance table, which kept them out of space.

  Arbarians were humanoid but distinguishable from Vestalia’s humans. They were built for the water in more ways than one. Their complexion ranged from a muted grey to a brilliant shade of green and blue, and they each had vestigial gills that ran from their ears to their mouths.

  Despite their inability to make peace, the leaders of Arbar did agree on one thing. To aid the war effort against the predatory Geralos, they gave ownership of one of their islands, Craz, to the Galactic Alliance.

  Like Meluvia’s Ru’oi Isles, Craz was an untamed tropical paradise filled with trees as tall as skyscrapers. The landscape appeared to have been designed for giants. It was remote, mysterious, and surrounded by water, rumored to swallow ships, and was avoided by aircraft.

  On this cursed isle was where the Alliance roped off several hundred hectares to conduct the first half of BLAST. It was where her nightmare would start, when Helga would have the recurring dream of that first day.

  She was standing in a line alongside forty-nine men and women, none of them she knew well, but some she recognized from the academy. They were made to strip down to their underclothes in the wee hours of the morning. It was as she remembered it, she had slept maybe three hours total. The anticipation and the cold had kept her wide awake inside her bedroll where she had kept a knife near her bosom, staring at the flap leading into her tent.

  Now she was with them, the BLAST recruits, remembering the odds that had been told to them since the first day of signing up. Only a tenth of them would make it, and the rest would report back to their ships, having failed but honored due to the fact that they had tried.

  This was the first step in what they all hoped would be an exciting career without a ceiling to hold them back from whatever ambition they aspired to. For Helga it was proof that she was just as good as any pure-blood human or Meluvian. She had made it to BLAST camp, and pass or fail, she had shown that she was better than her critics.

  But now, she wondered at her future, as she stood cold and shivering beneath the torches of the four ranks who barked out orders for them to stand at attention. She looked down the line. They all seemed to be suffering, and one young man was weeping from what she could only hope was nerves.

  There was a gunshot, and the sound of a voice screaming, “Get down. Put your thyping faces in the mud, you maggots!” Almost involuntarily she threw her legs back and landed face down in the mud, where she listened for “one” before raising herself up in the firs
t of one hundred pushups. That was the start, and then planks, followed by more exercises to get the blood flowing. After thirty minutes of this, they were instructed to stand, where they were all one uniform color of brownish green.

  “When you hear my horn, you will take off running into those trees,” the booming voice said, and Helga recognized it as Gunnery Sergeant Halo Mal, one of the four volunteers that would take them through BLAST.

  “On the far side—if you make it—is a body of water known as Aryk Mar by the locals. Aryk Mar stands for black water. And maggots it’s blacker than black, so be ready. You are to swim to a buoy we have placed a few meters out, and then dive to the bottom where you will find a line that will guide you to a subterranean cave. Getting to that cave is your mission. It will be harsh, but you are here because you’ve proven that harsh is nothing. Get to that cave in less than two hours and you will be greenlit for the next exercise. Are you ready?”

  “Yes, Gunnery Sergeant!” they all shouted at the top of their lungs. There was the sound of a horn and they all took off running for the trees.

  Helga was on her second wind from the adrenaline mixed with a stubbornness that told her that she would not be the first to fail. She could break both legs and arms, and she was going to make it through the day, despite being on a few hours’ sleep.

  Not only would she pass, but she would do so at full speed, being that they would be monitored via satellites and hidden reaper drones that buzzed around disguised as mosquitos and gnats.

  With this drive, she was one of the first to make it to the trees, and after a couple kilometers of hard running, something told her that she would need more than her knife to protect her.

  When she got past a dead tree covered entirely in moss, she stopped to cut off one of its branches. Walking briskly with hope that she hadn’t fallen too far behind, she whittled away the stick with her knife until it was a spike the length of her arm.