Standish

by Donald B McFarlane

  An hour later, she was standing in front of a rapidly assembled board of instructors and training officers.

  “Why didn’t you slow earlier?” The head of the Rescue Tech course, Marlon Genova, asked.

  “I wanted to win.” Standish replied. Frozen at the position of attention.

  “You’ve got guts, Standish.” The senior instructor looked at the young recruit. “Maybe too much.” He shook his head. “Kasser’s death is on your hands. You didn’t plan on possible equipment failures.”

  “I plan to win, Sir.”

  “You’re a cold bitch, Trainee Standish.” Marlon Genova said, walking up to her. “But Kasser’s equipment killed him.” She turned to look at the instructors. “Let her rejoin the class.”

  “And,” The instructor looked over the class. “The fastest time for clearing the ship goes to Standish.”

  That put a smile on her face. Standish was starting to develop a pattern of behaviour that not only suited her personality but got her results. Attack, attack, attack. You hesitate, you die.

  “You might have not had the cleanest sweep, Standish, but it was good enough, coupled with that time.”

  “Can you hear me?” The instructor asked.

  Standish could hear the voice, but she still felt drowsy.

  “Get a med droid.”

  Standish tried to sit up, but her stomach was killing her.

  “You fucking idiot.” Another instructor said.

  “What?” The words barely got out of Standish’s mouth.

  “She’s a reckless kid.” One instructor said.

  “I know she is.” Replied the other.

  Standish was trying to follow the conversation between the two instructors.

  “What happened this time?” A senior instructor asked.

  “She was too close to her spider charge when she detonated it.” Replied the instructor looming over her.

  “What’s the injury?” Asked the senior instructor. He didn’t need to ask. The entire midsection of Standish’s armour was covered in blood.

  “Shrapnel to the midsection.” Came the reply.

  Standish could feel pressure on her armour.

  “Nice. Looks like it went clean through her.” Said the instructor. “If we weren’t here, you’d be dead!” He screamed in her face.

  Standish smiled, then passed out.

  “I can’t stand this food anymore.” Num Blaz said. He ate the most on the course. His appetite seemed endless.

  Standish looked at Num Blaz.

  “Yeah.” Zara Five agreed. “It’s shit.”

  Standish looked down at her plate. “I like it.”

  “Says the girl from nowhere.” Num shot.

  “Thanks.”

  “It does lack variety.” Zara Five remarked. Standish knew that Zara came from a wealthy family. At least she didn’t flaunt it.

  Standish didn’t mind. She had grown up for years with two options for breakfast, maybe a few more for lunch. Maybe three or four for dinner. Here, in training, there was much more on offer.

  “Well, it’s got to get better when we get out of here.” Num commented.

  Zara Five shook her head. “That all depends on where you get assigned.”

  Standish took another bite of her meal. Tasted good to her.

  16

  The Past

  Tekori

  “Num Blaz, Asa Mika, Jo-Jo, Val Standish, and Mo Lee.” The senior instructor looked up from his datapad. “Outside my office in 30. Parade uniforms. Look sharp. Dynamic Operations is here.”

  It was rare that Standish felt her heart start to race, but this was one of those times. She didn’t wait for the other four to move, she just turned and dashed down the hallway to the billets without a second thought.

  She knew what she had to do. Her parade uniform was already in immaculate order, and her boots and other pieces of kit were also ready for display.

  When she was ready to put on her parade uniform, she did so with the utmost care. The uniform was green, the colour that all students under training wore throughout the Empire. She’d be given a navy dress uniform after graduation from Bern 36, but for now, she was wearing green. Once she was fully dressed, boots on, accoutrements in place, she stood in front of her mirror and gave everything a final inspection. Happy, she turned, walked out of the room, and back towards the senior instructor’s office.

  She wasn’t the first to arrive, she was second. Num Blaz was just in front of her. His orange mohawk was currently the shortest it had been since he had reached Tekori with the rest of the trainees, and since the first day of training, he had always found a way onto the same team as Standish in the group exercises.

  At the same time, Standish had respected Blaz since the minute she had met him. He was big, and powerfully built, but had an air of intelligence about him that many of the other trainees didn’t have. It was that combination of brains and brawn which she found intriguing. Standish was also well aware that Blaz was in the running to take the top trainee spot at graduation. Something she planned on capturing herself.

  After the three other trainees arrived, the senior instructor emerged from his office. He walked a few paces away from the door and was then followed by a figure dressed in a navy jumpsuit that had neither rank or other markings on it. His skin was pale pink, and he kept his hands clasped together at his front, his eight fingers intertwined.

  “This,” The senior instructor pointed to the visitor. “Is Operator Grade One Dat Roser. He is here to conduct your Dynamic Operations interviews.” He paused and looked at the five trainees that were lined up to his front. “Be mindful of your words with this man.” He glanced over to Roser. “They’re all yours.”

  Roser nodded. “Thank you, Sir.”

  Standish watched as the senior instructor walked off, then snapped her eyes back to the front.

  Dat Roser walked to a position just offset from Standish, and in the middle of the five applicants, and pulled a small device from his pocket. “This is a very simple auto-trainer.” Roser slapped the device on the far side wall of the corridor. “Follow its instructions.” He pointed at Num Blaz. “Once you are instructed to do so, come up to the instructor’s door, knock, then await instructions.” He took two paces back towards the office. “Good luck with your interviews today. Dynamic Operations is always looking for special people.”

  The group of trainees watched as the door closed behind the man, then looked at the device that he had fixed to the wall, waiting for it to start, and they didn’t have to wait long.

  “Seated position against the wall. Arms out parallel to the deck.” The device ordered in a metallic tone.

  The trainees quickly backed up to the wall and entered the requested position. It was a stress position and one that they had had to adopt many times in training. The only difference this time was that no instructor was counting down the time remaining for the exercise, just silence.

  After five minutes, the small device gave a fresh set of instructions. “Press-Up position number one.”

  The group rotated off the wall and assumed the press-up position, their palms flat on the ground, arms extended, backs straight and their feet together against the wall. After a few more minutes of silence, the device beeped once again. “First Candidate, move.”

  Swiftly, Blaz was on his feet and gone.

  Standish watched him enter the instructor’s office and was surprised to see him re-emerge in less than a minute and reassume the press-up position in the spot he had just vacated.

  “Next.” The machine instructed.

  Standish hopped to her feet and was moving. She knocked on the door as instructed, and the door quickly slid open, and she stepped inside.

  Marching forward, she walked towards the desk that dominated the room and stopped, standing rigid at attention.

  “Disassemble and reassemble this weapon.” Came a sharp order from behind the desk.

  Looking down, Standish saw that the desk had been cleared
off except a light blue cloth that covered the entire table, and a single standard-issue service rifle on top of it.

  Blinking twice, Standish moved forward and picked up the rifle with her left hand, but before she could even start the strip-down procedure, Dat Roser cut her off.

  “Fail. Put the weapon down.” He stood up from the chair behind the desk. “Trainee, is the safety feature engaged on this weapon?”

  Standish set the rifle down, then checked the safety, it was off. “Negative.”

  “Get out.” He said without pause.

  Standish quickly exited the room and resumed the press-up position next to Blaz, and watched as the next candidate got up and moved into the room. It became quite evident to her that they didn’t miss the safety, because the door stayed shut for several minutes until they came back out and resumed their spot in the line, where they were now jogging in place.

  When the cycle finally worked its way back to Standish, it was almost an hour later. Blaz had apparently passed the weapons test, but he emerged once again, a disgruntled look on his face, and resumed the fitness session.

  “Disassemble that weapon.” Was the first thing out of Roser’s mouth when Standish finally got back into the room.

  Standish did so in swift fashion, making sure that she didn’t forget the safety.

  “Back together.” Roser ordered.

  She did it in less than a minute.

  “Functions test.”

  Silence as she carried out his instructions.

  “Place the weapon down and take two steps back. To the closest hundred light-years, how close are we to the Capital?” He asked in a lower voice.

  Standish dropped her eyes for a moment. “Four hundred light-years.” She replied.

  Dat Roser nodded. “Three hundred fifty-five.” He said. “Distance to your homeworld?”

  “Thirty-two-hundred light-years.” She said with confidence.

  Roser nodded. “You were issued a set of armour at the beginning of training.” Roser paused and looked up from the data-pad he was reading. “What model was it?”

  “U5” Standish replied quickly.

  “Very good.” There was another pause. “Serial number?”

  “SW34JASW128JS.” She replied without hesitation. All the trainees had been required to memorise the serial numbers on all their issues kit.

  “On internal air, if the rebreather malfunctions, how long can you survive?”

  “Eight hours.”

  The answer brought a look of concern to Dat Roser’s face.

  “Sir, the U5 Rescue Tech suit has a four-hour air supply and is capable of putting the operator into micro-hibernation for an additional four hours.”

  Roser smiled. “Do you think you had to justify your answer to me?”

  Standish paused. Gave the question some consideration, then replied. “I wanted to clarify my answer, Sir.”

  “Very well.” Roser looked back down at the data-pad. “What is the maximum speed that a Rescue Tech is capable of latching onto a moving object, in zero-G?”

  “I am currently rated to latch onto an object moving at thirty kilometres per hour from stationary unassisted, assisted would depend on any power pack that I might have at my disposal.” She replied, and softly shuffled her feet.

  “Enough with the silly questions.” Roser put his hand up and scratched the back of his head. “Why do you think I should allow you to attend Dynamic Operations training?”

  “Because I’ve got it.” She said with a cheeky smile on her face.

  “Ha!” Roser let out a loud, solitary, laugh, and nodded his head. “Your file says you do.” Roser got up from his chair and walked around to the front of the desk, then sat down on the edge, just a metre in front of Standish. “You understand that you’ve got to serve a full year in the fleet before you even get to attend Dynamic Operations training, and the initial fitness exams fail many.” He stood up, and walked to the side of the room, focusing in on one picture that was displayed. “And if you fail the initial fitness exam, you’re gone. Back to Rescue Tech for the rest of your enlistment.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Roser turned, then slowly walked back to the chair behind the desk and settled into it. “Well,” he turned in the chair and looked at the wall. “Unfortunately, we’re a little heavy on female operatives at the moment, I’m just not sure we need any more right now.”

  The elation that was working its way over Standish’s body suddenly evaporated.

  Dat Roser got up from his chair, and picked up the datapad, and circled around to the other side of the table. “I have to think about your application, Val Standish.” There was a sly grin on his face, or that was what Standish thought it looked like. “I’ll be here for the next few days. Maybe I’ll see something to change my mind.” He crossed his arms. “Now get out and send in that big guy from 242 that was first in line.”

  Standish quickly turned about and moved out of the room. “Num, get back in there.” She said, a look of despair and rejection on her face.

  Walking back to her room as fast as she could, she didn’t stop to talk to any of the other trainees that were milling about.

  Going straight to her accommodation, she threw the door open and closed it just as quickly behind her. She wasn’t sure what to make of the conversation that had just taken place. She just knew she was going to have to crush the final two exercises.

  Sitting down on her bed, she was confused. And angry. It didn’t take long for her door to fly open for her to get an answer. “What a joke!” Barked Num Blaz. “He said I say all the right things, then says the branch has too many males. Needs to think about my application.” Standish’s room wasn’t large, and Num made it feel even smaller as he paced from one end to the other.

  “He said the same thing to me.” Standish said, laying back onto her bed.

  “What’s the training tomorrow?” Blaz asked, his voice raised.

  “Ha!” Standish shouted out loud. “I’ve got it!” She said, sitting up. “He’s here to monitor the training evolution tomorrow.”

  “And?” Blaz stopped and looked at Standish.

  “And?” She looked at him and shook her head. “It’s on Alpha India 75R.”

  Num’s mouth dropped. “Yeah. That big field problem everyone was worried about. Tomorrow.” He said dryly.

  Num walked to the far wall of the room, then gently punched the wall. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. Winds up to 8000 kilometres an hour, temperatures over 3000 degrees centigrade.” He turned around and smiled at Standish. “I have not been paying attention.” He shook his head and started to slowly walk towards the door. “That’s why we’ve been training in the extreme condition suits lately.” He looked up at the ceiling and stopped. “I should have known something was going on.”

  Standish lay back down on her bed, her hands resting behind her head. “If I'm not mistaken, it’s this exercise that accounts for almost all the casualties during Rescue Tech training, but it is part of the mandatory syllabus.” She said in a calm voice.

  “Great. That’s just great.” He looked over to Standish. “Well, if scoring well on that test means I get into Dynamic Operations school, then so be it. I wasn’t planning on fucking it up anyway.”

  “Adds a bit more pressure. Knowing that Dat Roser will be watching.”

  Blaz looked down at Standish. “I’m getting into that school.”

  “So am I.” She replied, a smile coming back to her face.

  17

  The Present

  Mechcharga

  Running her hands over the well-worn leather of the flight chair, Standish smiled. The ship itself might have been new, but the pilot’s seat was vintage. She hadn’t flown in years by herself, but she found her way around the flight controls with ease. It helped that the ship had a very modern AI to assist her.

  “Computer, secure all hatches and vents.”

  The holographic flight displays lit-up in front of her, and she watched as a
flight plan was shown taking the ship from the surface to orbit, then all the way to Porth, a distance of just a few dozen light-years.

  “Execute flight plan.” She ordered.

  Rain continued to pound down on the ship as it lifted off from the surface of the planet. The more altitude it gained, the heavier the rain became until the ship finally broke through the clouds into the darkness of night, with only the stars above providing any natural illumination.

  18

  The Past

  Tekori

  The daily fitness program for the Rescue Techs followed a straightforward, and predictable routine, if there was a field exercise planned for that day, the physical training was light. If it was classroom instruction, the trainees were thrashed by one of the sadistic physical training instructors that the school had. The day of the exercise to Alpha India 75R, the fitness session was almost all stretching.

  After the morning meal was consumed, the remaining ninety trainees assembled in the large briefing room that was used as a classroom and pre-exercise venue before any off-station operations. When Standish took her seat next to Num Blaz, she couldn’t help but notice the hazardous operations suit that was hanging on a rack in the corner of the room next to a large image of a distant world that was blue with a white band of clouds swirling around the equator.

  Dat Roser was sat on the last row next to several of the course instructors. He was dressed conspicuously in his unmarked uniform, a dagger slung under his left arm. It reminded her what Sla Venga had said over a year ago on Nadolo Prime about D-O being armed all the time.

  When the last of the trainees was seated, the senior instructor, plus the school commandant Marlon Genova, walked into the room and took up positions at the front of the room.

  The senior instructor moved to the lectern with a single datapad in his hand. “This is your penultimate exercise. Hazardous environmental training on Alpha India 75R.” He motioned to the planet that was displayed on the screen behind him. “We have run this exercise for many years, and it has resulted in the highest fatality rate among those wishing to serve in our ranks.” He paused and let that sink in for a moment. “Now, this training mission is not a difficult one by the standards that you have reached so far. It is, however, by the nature of the location, a stressful one, and that is how accidents happen.”