I came to my full height as I saw the majority of people looking at me after my outburst.
“On Earth, as some of you might know, there is a famous group that fights on water and land. They began when ships made out of wood and cloth sailed our oceans. They were called Marines. More of a brotherhood than a unit, formed from people all over the world, fighting to protect their own country’s rights and freedoms. They are the tip of the spear. In the countries called Australia and the United Kingdom, these Marines are called Royal Marine Commandos. In the United States, they’re called Marines. They’re the best of the best, able to fight in any conditions and train to fight with their entirety. Emotion is fuel to their fire: Anger is made to focus instead of let it turn into a barrier. Pain is to clear the mind. Sorrow is to carry the burdens we have and continue. That is what we need you Mechas to be. Armored Marine Commandos.” I watched their confused faces as I paced. The entire hangar listened to my every word.
“Marines are men and women who embrace the odds whatever they might be and dive into danger. They are hard people who will never expect to be thanked or praised. They will take on the jobs that look suicidal and snatch victory when all else seems lost.” I stood fast, looking out over them. “You will be the warrior soldiers of the human race who will make the enemy piss themselves when they hear of the Armored Marine Commandos!” I yelled.
My eyes became hooded. “So when I ask what the purpose of the Armored Marine Commandos is, you will answer: to close with and destroy the enemy, no matter the odds, terrain or environment,” I growled.
“What is the purpose of the Armored Marine Commandos?” I demanded, looking around the hangar, which had filled up with more humans coming from the living quarters.
“To close with and destroy the enemy, no matter the odds, terrain or environment.” They stumbled through it.
“LOUDER, MARINES!” I said through my speakers. They all seemed to stand straighter, determination carved on their faces.
“To close with and destroy the enemy, no matter the odds, terrain or environment!”
“I will say this once more. WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THE ARMORED MARINE COMMANDOS?”
“TO CLOSE WITH AND DESTROY THE ENEMY, NO MATTER THE ODDS, TERRAIN OR ENVIROMENT!”
“DAMN FUCKING RIGHT!” I growled. “Make sure you never forget it.” I scanned the room. “Trainers, back on your troops!” I turned back to my own group.
“Show me half of the drive you just showed me there and you might be able to do some more advanced moves.” I pointed to one of the better fighters. “You, come here—you’ve been elected human dummy!” I said in a voice that made my volunteered dummy, and any others, seriously doubt they wanted to be my practice partner.
“Sir, are you sure you don’t want to put your helmet on?” my dummy asked.
Truth be told, I was going to. But when a student asks a question like that, it’s time to show him balls of platinum, so I tossed it to the side.
It thumped down some distance away, as my brain finally engaged. Damn. That was a stupid idea. I saw him swallow as sweat ran down his face. I felt beads of sweat on my neck.
“All right everyone, we’re going to work on combining your hand-to-hand with sword fighting.” I clenched my hand around an invisible hilt, unable to see my simulated sword as I wasn’t wearing my helmet. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Where the hell do I come up with these ideas?
“All right, let’s begin.” It started slowly and after a few bouts, I released the dummy. A look of relief came over his face. I grabbed my helmet, quickly tucking it under my arm and telling him to spar with others. I wandered around, giving advice between bouts.
I was going to need some kind of matting to stop the Mechas getting beaten up so much, mentally wincing at how Shrift was going to react to the half-beaten suits.
After I saw a few still not putting their full effort in, I pointed at the first offender. “You’re my new dummy.”
The new dummy walked with a cocky swagger of a person sure of their importance and size and street fighting skill.
“Come at me,” I said, activating my sim sword, going to put my helmet on, when he blindsided me.
He made it look as if he were going to use his sim sword, waiting for me to become distracted with my helmet. Before I had it on, he came at me with fists. I had to throw my helmet and use the sim sword, which was still invisible to me and working. My attacker hadn’t turned off his Mecha simulation.
I didn’t have much time to think on this as all of his blows were aimed at my head. I forgot the sword as I brought my fists to bear. Fighting with something I couldn’t see would only make it harder. I ducked and weaved from his fists, seeing him getting tired.
I could see by his movements he wasn’t here to fight. He wanted to kill me and the blows aimed at my unhelmeted head drove that point home. I dropped, grabbing his lower thigh and under his arm, and tossed him across the room. A second sooner and he would’ve closed his arm on my head and popped it like a grape.
I flung myself after him, stopping myself against the bulkhead that had stopped him.
He was picking himself up, grabbing a wrench; he tossed it at my head. It glanced off my arm I used to deflect it. I dropped on him. My hands and legs wrapped around him, making him unable to move. I tightened my grip as his servos popped into uselessness.
The room was quiet as training stopped. I rolled off him, ripping his helmet off. It was the leader of a squad who, instead of accepting my rules which had now become known as Salchar’s Rules, had tried to use the handshake as a pull to knock me out.
“This is sword training, not melee training. You will learn to follow orders.” Iron filled my voice.
“Fuck your orders; I didn’t sign up for this.”
“You think any of us did? We’re making the best of a shitty situation without you trying to kill people.”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing here?”
“We’re training to kill the enemy, not one another.”
“Fuck you, Salchar. Fuck you. Fuck your goddamn code and the way you think we should scrape the shit off your boots.”
“I left one of your legs working; you will go to the armories and fix your Mecha.”
“That’s a Kuruvian’s job,” he spat dismissively.
I grinned evilly. “It’s now your job,” I said, my face inches from his. “You will be under Chief Engineer Eddie until he approves your transfer back to the AMC.”
I turned to some Kuruvians doing work on a shuttle who’d heard what was going on. “Take him to Eddie.”
One nodded to me and then talked to the others; two still worked on the craft as four came to me, still wrapped up. They pressed his immobilizer and carried him away.
“Good luck, you’re going to need it,” I said in a singsong voice as I turned back to my group.
“That’s how to immobilize a Mecha with holds.” I looked to the room as a whole.
“Who said it was time to rest? We’re making planet fall in a day, people!” My tone was like iron as people rushed back into their lessons. As if to punctuate my point, the overhead speakers started.
“Prepare for worm jump,” a voice sounded. People paused to look up until they caught my look. I stared at them pointedly as I walked back to my class. The crew started a countdown.
Everyone in the hangar paused briefly as the sensation of passing through a wormhole started and then we were violently shaken. Those with their Mecha’s boots connected to the ground stayed upright. Those not took a tumble as their squad leaders took care of them.
The rest of the training time went well. I worked through three groups before Yasu appeared, her face thoughtful as she walked in. Until she saw me and it became an icy mask.
“I’ll leave them in your capable hands, Yasu.” I bowed to her; she made half of the motion back to me.
I walked to the mess and grabbed food. Some people looked at me oddly as I clanked in, still in my Mecha. I didn’t pay them an
y attention. I ate as I read my data pad. There always seemed to be more information to read.
With my paranoia gained from being a gamer star and an orphan, I liked the safety of the armor. I felt invincible and it had saved my life more than once already. I began to wonder whether I could have it charged while I was in it.
With that thought, I wandered into armory one; it and two were outfitting Mechas with human joints instead of the Mecha general joints, as well as auto-injectors and the kill switch disablers. The third was being used as a fitting station for the other Mechas. Four was Min Hae’s base and meeting room for Henry and Yasu to teach the leaders and commanders strategy and tactics. It had put a hold on whatever marital issues we had, though I had a feeling they wouldn’t disappear easily.
It was a madhouse; there was a mix of humans getting stuck in and Kuruvians who were pulling apart and putting Mechas back in what resembled a factory line.
I walked up to Shrift wrestling with a bent overlapping plate of armor that lay underneath the hardened outside shell. It dissipated the force of the projectile over a wider area, making it harder to make a hole in the underlayers of armor and kill the user or wound them. But it would still leave them bruised to all hell.
“I heard you told them to start fighting in their top-class Mechas!” He brandished the crowbar in his hand as I approached, now my hands up in the air in surrender.
“I might have done something like that.”
“Might! Do you know how much time it takes to get out the dents you put in the armor!”
“You showed us maintenance. Just show them all how to look after their kit, plus the tools, and I’ll see they look after it and take any issues to you. They need to fight in their armor; the more time they spend in it, the more used to it they’ll be.”
“It would make it easier on the armorers who’re all trying to make the armor more amenable to your body types!” he said, clearly frustrated.
“All right, I’ll have a talk with Henry and set something up. In the meantime, do you have anything like a mat for Mechas?”
“A mat?”
“Something they can fall onto or hit and not damage the bay or their Mechas.”
“I think that there’s some insulation around.”
“That’s a good idea. Have to talk to Eddie, to see if he can get his people to set it up.”
“Yeah, he should have something up in a few hours.” He made to leave.
“Could I charge my armor while being in it?”
“Yeah, sure. Could sleep in it if you wanted. Just run a power line into the main feed in your quarters.”
“Wonderful!”
“You’re not going to sleep in it with Lady Yasu trying to sleep there,” he said in a disapproving tone.
Lady Yasu was it now? I grumbled in my head. “Just wanted to know if we needed to sleep in them on planet.”
“Of course,” he said, in a tone that made his doubt clear.
“Also, I need you to work on some kind of non-lethal projectile for the rail gun.”
“The only kind I can make is electric rounds. They’ll incapacitate people as long as they’re not in armor. Though there is a slight chance that they will kill.”
“All right. Something’s better than nothing, I guess. Anyways, I’ve got to go to a meeting,” I said hurriedly as my HUD pinged an alert. No rest for the wicked.
Shrift waved good-bye as he made for the nearest maintenance walkway. They were much easier to use to get through the ship than the pathways the Syndicate had made by welding shut certain doors, making it a curled maze to get to the heart of the ship.
I went to the fourth armory. “All right, gunners, on me.” This group was the ones who had opted to be gunners for the Golden Refuge. If I was going to take over this ship, I needed to defend it. While sensors, communications, and most positions that were needed on the bridge could be practiced with a Mecha and a simulation program being run, as well as some sleep training and data pad tests, that could only go so far for gunners. Gunners needed to actually use the interface, change out capacitors, fix stoppages, know how to aim properly—all things a veteran knew and no computer program could show.
I didn’t wait for them as I stomped out of the armories, across the hangar, and to the weapons bays. Weapons were pulled in and most of them had their guts pulled out with Kuruvians and Sarenmenti working on them. I felt the group tense as they saw the Sarenmenti. They were seen as the officers, trainers, and ultimately the ones who would and could kill them with a flick of a switch. Something I was going to have to do something about.
I found the gunner chief, a Kuruvian named Brusk. He looked over my group. A grin spread across his face as I said that they wanted to become gunners and they were taking sleep training already.
“Thank God. Maybe some sentients who can hit the broadside of a barn and aren’t worried about the breakage.” A few savage grins among the crew behind me made his grin spread wider.
“What is a pinwheel-mounted 180-millimeter rail gun’s rate of fire?”
Hands shot up as he looked at them questioningly. I supplied an explanation.
“In our culture, Chief, to answer a question—instead of having everyone answer at once—we put up our hands, and the person asking the question picks someone to answer.”
“Interesting.” He pointed to someone.
“Which model, Chief?”
“Medium X110 model.” He pointed to someone else.
“With unlinked, linked motherboards, or manual?”
His grin became dark. “What do you mean by linked?”
“Linked motherboards.”
“That much linked together could create an AI.”
I saw the answerer’s face split into a grin.
“Have an auto-shutdown command feature built in.”
“It’s overridden and the AI is growing.”
“Grenade.”
“All run by computer programming. It’s been hacked.”
“Homemade explosive rig, chemical compound with a manual firing mechanism.”
This made the chief’s eyes light up. “You have prior knowledge of weapons?”
They nodded.
“They were picked for their willingness and their previous experience. Most of the people in front of you have pulled apart weapons, made their own rounds, made weapons, put them back together and, in one case, have a patented automatic rifle.”
“Chief Zor!”
A Sarenmenti ambled over, grease on his overalls, as he chewed what looked like a baseball-sized chunk of gum. “What you got, Chief?”
“I think we got some recruits.”
Zor’s eyes lit up as he looked at the group. “Maybe. Aren’t a proper race until they chew something,” the translator said in its electronic voice.
I turned, seeing more than a few grinning. There was a relaxed feel to these Sarenmenti that there had never been with the trainers. Plus, after the video, quite a few people understood it wasn’t the Sarenmenti’s fault that they were the way they were. A large chunk of them had been bred by the PDF to be Mechas.
One raised his hand. “Well, if you’re sharing?”
Chief Brusk let out a deep laugh as Zor’s face took on a sour expression.
“You were the one who wondered if they’d chew.” Brusk elbowed Zor, who retrieved a tin from his leg and tossed it to the gunners.
“That’s my personal chew, ya damned animals. Make sure I get that tin back, and you’ll be making your own after this!” he said as the tin was passed around.
Brusk clearly enjoyed his fellow chief’s discomfort.
I took a chew, too, before handing it back. It tasted like salty raisin, yet made me feel strangely alert. I saw a few didn’t like the taste, but no one spit it out.
A small smile grew on my face. “Chiefs, I think I’ll leave them in your capable hands,” I said as a few of the Sarenmenti and Kuruvian gunner teams wandered over to inspect the newbies.
“Thank you, C
ommander. We’ll make them fine gun bunnies yet!”
“If you ever are able to make chewing tobacco, maybe some games between the AMC and gunner corps might be in order for a prize.”
“Indeed,” Brusk said, looking thoughtful.
I gave them all a two-finger salute as I walked out of the deck.
“Let’s see what you know other than damned numbers! Ready the deck for simulation!”
I looked back at the two chiefs, seeing the same gleam in their eyes Henry and my physical trainer for Mecha Assault Two had had in their eyes. The look that all military trainers seemed to have when promising new meat was given to them to turn into hardened veterans to be proud of.
Zor gave me a two-finger salute. I grinned as I returned it. I thought I saw a hint of a grin under his unrelenting chewing.
I walked back into Mecha territory, making sure the kids hadn’t set fire to the place in the time I’d left. I grinned before I settled into a professional mask as I stomped through the hangar filled with training Mechas. It was a good sight; we were finally getting organized.
I looked around happily as I returned to the fourth armory, grabbing a stool, and began the last meeting I’d have before we made it to Chaleel.
Best Laid Plans
“All right, Min Hae,” I said. He’d been waiting as a holographic projector fired up and a star system filled the area between us. Planets with little descriptions were highlighted.
“This planet matches the projected one we saw in the hangar.” He zoomed in on the planet.
“I didn’t know we had access to sensors.”
“We only got access to them today. I was wary as we still don’t know much about the base coding, but I thought it was worth the risk.”
Resilient is worth her weight in gold. “I agree. Continue.”
“At this range, we can pick up fifteen different power stations, as well as three orbital platforms along the planet’s equator used to pass goods into space via elevators for ships to dock and trade. As we entered the system, the ships that were docked with these platforms all lit their drives and powered away.
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