Imperial Recruit (Book 2 of The Imperial Marines Saga)

by Terry Mixon

  Andrea was assigned to her platoon.

  “Don’t let the unexpected situation overwhelm you, Na,” Martelle said. “Your NCOs are experienced. They’ll keep you from screwing up as long as you listen to them. Hell, you already know that. Now get moving. Orientation waits for no one.”

  She was so screwed.

  Page had just finished putting away his coffee mug and was headed toward the parade ground with Gomez when he got a call from the inbound pinnace. That was unusual. He hoped it didn’t foreshadow some kind of problem.

  “This is Senior Sergeant Page,” he said into his wrist unit.

  “Senior Sergeant, this is Lieutenant Gregson, the copilot on your pinnace. We have something of a situation with one of your recruits. It’s odd enough that I felt you needed a heads up.

  “There’s a girl in your group that looks like she’s from the Singularity. I’m not sure what her story is, but she’s got what looks like a valid set of orders.”

  Page frowned. There were certainly people from the Singularity who migrated to the Empire, but very few of them ever joined the Imperial Marines. Even if they had, he wasn’t sure how that mattered.

  “Forgive my asking, sir, but how did her origin come into play?”

  “She’s got a full set of facial tattoos. I’m no expert, but I know that means some kind of social standing there.”

  That deepened the mystery. “Can you describe the tattoos? Maybe have a picture forwarded to me?”

  “I’m sending it now.”

  An instant later, an image popped up in his implant feed. It showed a perfectly normal-looking girl with dark hair and tattoos in the form of a hawk on her face. The bird’s head was on her forehead, and it was turned slightly to the side to give it depth. The cheekbone tattoos seemed to have the bird’s wings in a diving configuration.

  It was a striking, aggressive tattoo and one that he was unfamiliar with.

  He double-checked the Corps databases for that particular tattoo and came up empty. Whatever it was, they’d either never encountered it, or it was classified at a higher level than he was able to access.

  “Thanks for the heads up, Lieutenant,” he said. “Was the girl confrontational, or was someone aggressive toward her?”

  “It started out with one of the corporals questioning her presence. Once that was done, I went back and checked her orders for myself. After I left, one of the other recruits started giving her crap, so I’d imagine this will be a problem for you going forward.”

  Perfect.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, how do you plan on dealing with someone from the Singularity inside your training platoon?” the officer asked, his tone curious.

  That was a great question. One, unfortunately, that he didn’t know the answer to.

  “I’m going to have to play that by ear, sir. Once you land, we’ll get the recruits off the pinnace like usual, and I’ll make certain that she gets all the attention that she deserves. Thanks for the heads up.”

  “No problem, Senior Sergeant. Good luck.”

  Once the com link terminated, Page turned to Gomez. It only took a minute to fill her in.

  She scowled thunderously. “That is complete bullshit. I don’t know who or what she is, but the fact that she has tattoos means that she’s a genie. The Empire doesn’t even recognize them as people. How could she possibly be here?”

  Page’s feelings were mixed. The girl might be a clone—or rather a being created from a human-designed template—but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t a person.

  Still, he had to keep in mind that not everybody felt the same as he did, and Imperial law was clear. Clones and created beings were property, though the manufacture of such was an extremely grave crime.

  Yet, somehow, this girl was here with seemingly valid orders for training. He couldn’t imagine how that was possible, but he’d have plenty of time to find out.

  “I don’t know,” he finally said. “Once the pinnace lands, I’ll take lead while you tear someone up to get the recruits’ attention. We’ll get them out of the pinnace and onto the parade ground for the shark attack like usual.

  “Once we’ve got them all sorted out, you and I will pull her aside and get some answers. Let’s not make a big deal about this until we have those answers. Clear?”

  Gomez nodded, obviously unwilling to fully agree. “I don’t like this. The Singularity is our enemy, and we don’t need to be training their clones about how we fight.”

  “Let’s be sure of the situation before we act,” he cautioned. “It’s our responsibility to be evenhanded, and I’m not going to do this girl wrong unless she’s deserving of it.

  “Pass the word to everyone else so that no one is caught off guard. We need to be on the same page by the time that pinnace lands.”

  She nodded and jogged ahead to inform the others.

  He stood on the side of the parade ground and shook his head. This wasn’t shaping up to be the best training cycle he’d ever run. Chaos was starting to seep in, he’d lost his lieutenant, and now he had a real mystery on his hands.

  What else was going to go wrong?

  7

  Andrea considered ignoring the boy’s rude question but decided to turn the confrontation back on him.

  “What kind of freak are you?” she asked, mimicking his tone.

  Her flip answer made the boy scowl even more fiercely. If he hadn’t been strapped in, he probably would’ve tried to lean forward and be more intimidating. If he unstrapped himself, though, he risked drawing the ire of the noncommissioned officers who were watching the events unfold without bothering to hide their interest.

  They gave no visible clues about what they’d do, but she was pretty sure that they’d intervene if an actual fight broke out. Words were probably acceptable, but she needed to avoid too much provocation.

  The boy didn’t seem to feel the same limitations.

  “I’ve heard about you Singularity freaks,” he sneered. “You aren’t even human. You don’t belong in the marines, freak. Hell, you don’t belong in the Empire at all.”

  “You’re an ass, Claudio.”

  The scornful exclamation came from the curvy redheaded girl seated next to her. “I don’t even know her, but I already like her better than you. You’ve been nothing but a jerk this entire trip. If someone doesn’t belong in the marines, it’s you.”

  The boy glared at the girl. “All you do is sit around mooning about how exciting it’s going to be in the marines, Diana. You don’t have what it takes to fight. You’ll be washed out inside a week.”

  “I suppose we’ll find out,” the girl said with a sniff. “I’ll still put my money on us.”

  She turned to face Andrea, making a point of ignoring the boy. “Hi. I’m Diana Randall, and I’d like to be your friend.”

  Andrea smiled. This sounded like some kind of ploy against the boy, but even fake friendship might be nice.

  “I’m Andrea Tolliver, and contrary to what you might hear, I’m not really that bad of a person. This tattoo doesn’t define me.”

  The redhead laughed. “I promise I won’t judge you. Ignore Claudio. He’s just a jerk from some backwater that figures the Imperial Marines are all about beating people up. He wouldn’t understand strategy and teamwork if it bit him in the ass.”

  “We’ll see about that once we get to the base,” the boy said grimly. “You two better hope you’re nowhere near me because I’ll make it my mission to run you both out.”

  “I see what you mean,” Andrea told the girl thoughtfully. “He is a jerk. So, what do you think the odds of us actually being assigned to the same training platoon are?”

  The redhead shrugged. “No clue. The marines make it relatively difficult to find out what happens during basic training. I suppose they want to keep up their mystique.

  “All I know for sure is that they’ll run us ragged as soon as we arrive. Once that’s done, they’ll use whatever magic they have to assign us to training platoons,
and then the fun really starts.”

  Andrea knew far more about the kinds of tactics the drill instructors would use, though that wouldn’t make surviving them any easier.

  She really hoped that she got assigned to the same platoon as the redhead. It would be nice having a friendly face to deal with instead of people like Claudio. Jerks were a dime a dozen, but friends were worth their weight in gold.

  They chatted, each relaying a little bit about their background as the pinnace flew on. They’d only just begun the inevitable questions about Andrea’s life inside the Singularity when the pinnace came in for a landing.

  It settled down almost gently, and the ramp at the rear lowered. Two women and a man in marine uniforms wearing strange hats with circular, straight brims made their way into the pinnace. The two women spread down the aisles, while the man stopped at the head of the ramp.

  “Welcome to Bravo Company, First Platoon of the 225th Training Battalion, recruits,” he said in a tone that easily carried to everyone inside the pinnace. “My name is Senior Sergeant John Page, but you will call me Drill Instructor. As of this moment, you’re mine. Trust me when I say that isn’t something I’m going to be bragging about anytime soon.”

  Someone up one of the aisles chuckled, which drew the attention of one of the women in the strange hats. She stalked over to the amused girl and glared at her with her hands on her hips.

  “Do you think Drill Instructor Page is funny, Recruit?” the woman demanded.

  The girl got a deer-in-the-headlights look, obviously having no idea how she was supposed to respond. Unfortunately for her, there was no right answer, and she was about to become a negative example.

  The female drill instructor leaned forward until the brim of her hat almost touched the girl’s forehead. “Come to think of it, Drill Instructor Page is a funny guy. Would you like to laugh at Drill Instructor Page, Recruit?”

  The woman stared into the girl’s eyes and said nothing for a few seconds while the pinnace sat in dead silence.

  Getting no answer, the woman grinned. “Since you seem to be mute, I think push-ups might help you find your tongue. On your feet!”

  The woman turned and shouted at all of them. “Everyone on your feet! I want you worms off my pinnace in thirty seconds. Twenty-nine… Twenty-eight… Twenty-five… Ten… Three…”

  Andrea had heard about this particular trick and knew that it wouldn’t end well for any of them. Sometimes you just had to play the game, even when the rules were stacked against you.

  She released her restraints and rose, grabbing her pack. When she saw that Diana was having difficulty with her restraints, she reached down and undid hers too.

  “Come on,” she said. “It’ll be better to be toward the front of this mess.”

  Since the two of them were out of their restraints before the other recruits, they were able to hurry down the ramp and onto the ground.

  And it was ground. They hadn’t landed at a port. The pinnace sat in the middle of a well-groomed field surrounded by long, squat buildings. Those would be barracks, she realized. This was their training area.

  She hadn’t expected things to kick off quite so rapidly, but one of the goals of basic training was to knock you out of your comfort zone and make you lose your emotional and physical equilibrium.

  The three drill instructors waiting in the field—two male and the other female—wasted no time getting into Andrea’s and Diana’s faces.

  “On the deck, recruits!” the man shouted. “Keep pushing until I get tired.”

  Andrea dropped her bag, lowered herself into the front leaning rest position, and started doing push-ups. She made sure there were flaws in her technique and went much slower than she could under normal conditions. She’d do what she judged enough and then slow down as if she were tired.

  The goal was to avoid standing out too much. She wanted to be in the upper third of this initial assessment but not at the top. That would help offset her origin while not making it look like she was smug about what she could really do.

  The truth of her capabilities would come out, though. As soon as the medical personnel began going over her records, they’d realize that she’d been holding back, and then there’d be fireworks.

  Andrea wasn’t precisely sure what kind, but it would undoubtedly be exciting. Yet, for now, her goal was to fit in. First impressions mattered.

  As the rest of the recruits finally exited the pinnace and began doing their own push-ups, she was able to see the lead drill instructor out of the corner of her eye. Senior Sergeant Page stood at the top of the pinnace’s ramp with his hands on his hips, his head swiveling as he observed them.

  One of the female drill instructors—the same one that had berated the girl—stepped up next to him and said something, pointing at Andrea. With all the drill instructors shouting at the recruits, hearing what they were saying was impossible, but they were obviously talking about her.

  The recruits around her were already having trouble maintaining their form, so she started allowing her back to rise and her hips to arch. That was how the body tried to cheat the exercise. Soon enough, they’d all be doing it.

  Except maybe Claudio. The jerk was still pumping out the push-ups, glaring at Andrea and Diana. Of course he was breezing through the physical part of this.

  And based on the fact that there was only one pinnace of recruits, that made her suspect that they’d be in the same platoon. Andrea wasn’t going to be able to escape him so easily.

  Well, whatever came, she’d face it. She was going to become an Imperial Marine, and none of these people—recruit or drill instructor—was going to stop her.

  It took a surprisingly short time for Fei to draw her uniforms and essential gear. One of the battalion runners escorted her to each location where she got equipment, and the man checked items off a list. All the stations were open because they were about to receive recruits.

  Once they had her fully outfitted, the runner showed her to the barracks. It was similar to the one that Grace’s platoon had occupied, and she almost found herself walking toward the senior noncommissioned officer’s room before she stopped herself. Those days were over.

  The runner led her upstairs to what would’ve been Grace’s office six years ago. The small office fronted a set of quarters. They were small but complete, including a private head and a minuscule kitchen. The same was true of the noncommissioned officers’ quarters. After all, it wouldn’t do for the recruits to see their leaders using the can or showering.

  The rooms were full of the previous occupant’s belongings, though several enlisted men and women were hurriedly packing everything. It wasn’t like she had anything to fill the empty space.

  They’d leave the food and consumables, so she was basically set.

  The office was filled with sports memorabilia: trophies and pictures, mostly. The earnest young man who usually ran the platoon looked like a happy-go-lucky daredevil in some of the images. She was sorry that he’d hurt himself but glad that he’d recover.

  Once she was settled in and the man’s belongings were gone, she stepped into the office and looked out over the parade ground through the window. A few barracks had lights on, and Fei realized that the training groups were probably at different points in their individual training arcs.

  Some of them would be getting close to graduation, while others had probably only just arrived themselves. That was somewhat different than it had been during her day. The training battalion she’d attended had had all the recruits dropped on them at the same time.

  Talk about utter chaos.

  Still, that put a load on both the ranges and the equipment being utilized. Having everything staggered made more sense. It seemed even the Corps could learn new tricks.

  Down on the parade ground, she could see a pinnace, and spread around its base were people doing push-ups. The bright lights kept the encroaching darkness at bay, but the view was still distant enough to make identifying Andrea impossible
.

  What she could see were a pair of drill instructors standing at the head of the pinnace’s ramp, clearly illuminated by its interior lights. They were watching the recruits, and she knew they were making judgment calls about which ones were going to be problems and which ones needed to have a little more attention.

  Her download indicated that the lead noncommissioned officer was Senior Sergeant John Page, and she had a brief summary of his service record. He’d been doing this kind of training for quite some time and had an excellent record for turning recruits into marines. She hoped he wouldn’t have a problem with Andrea’s background, but there was nothing she could do about it if he did.

  A senior sergeant was a fairly high-ranking NCO for a platoon, but in this case, there were five other NCOs performing drill instruction duties. They’d be rotating their time so that none of them were on duty for more than about ten hours. That allowed them to run the recruits ragged without exhausting themselves.

  She scrutinized each of the people doing push-ups and eventually decided which one was probably Andrea. The girl’s tattoos were going to make her life difficult.

  Fei’s too. The very first person Senior Sergeant Page would come to talk to about Andrea was her. How was she going to handle that?

  She wasn’t supposed to know Andrea, and there was nothing in their records to connect them. Fei had to avoid showing the girl favoritism because she wanted her to succeed on her own, but she also wanted her to succeed. It was going to be a delicate balancing act.

  Well, as Grace often said, if it was easy, anyone could do it.

  Shouting from outside brought Fei’s attention back to the scene in front of her as the drill instructors got the recruits on their feet and began herding them off. Whatever belongings they’d brought with them would be confiscated, they’d have their hair shaved, and then they’d start the process of being issued uniforms and equipment.

  Once that was complete, they’d get shown where they’d be sleeping, educated about how the barracks were set up, and get the basic ground rules. By the time that was all done, it would be after local midnight. Unless she missed her guess, the drill instructors would be waking them up around four hours later.