by JR Handley
When there was exactly fifteen minutes to the hour, Lance snapped to attention and marched smartly into the room. He briefly stopped to seal the hatch, locking the Cadets in and any stragglers out, before he continued on towards the podium. As he was marching forward, Xena pinged him a note directly into the ear piece that still connected him to his suit’s communication system while his helmet was off. Apparently both Captain Grigonna and Senior Veteran Sergeant Keita had watched his earlier introduction to his new command. Were likely still watching as well. He could only hope they appreciated his out of their box thinking, because he was desperate to get through to these kids before he had to watch them face a Cull Firing Squad.
While standing at a rigid Parade Rest, Lance began to address 1st Squad, knowing that Xena would’ve already connected him to the podium’s communication relays. Every Cadet would hear his words as if he were standing right next to them screaming into their ears, and just maybe he’d finally break through their malaise, and he could transform them into warriors. “First, we have a little matter of squad business to address. Who was it that orchestrated that failed mutiny against my lawful orders? You have exactly ten seconds to respond before I call an executioner and retire the entire squad. Go!”
With exactly one second to spare, Cadet Hayley Mason jumped to attention and sounded off with an encouraging amount of gusto and confidence. “Sergeant Scipio, I organized and led the ‘so-called’ mutiny. Nobody else is responsible for my actions, Sergeant.” Lance waited, seeing if his silence unnerved her into saying more, but she was unshakable and never so much as twitched a muscle as she awaited the death sentence she surely expected. This, this I can work with. When it was obvious that she wasn’t going to crack under the pressure, he addressed the rest of his squad.
“Is that correct, 1st Squad? Did Hayley act alone or did someone else assist her?” By Bardo, I hope these twerps get that this is a test of their unity and teamwork. The only way they succeed in this scenario is by failing in solidarity. When the silence from his Cadets had told him all he needed to know, Lance decided to take the beast by the horns and address the assistant squad leader, Cadet Sergeant Fitzgerald Wyckoff directly. “Cadet Sergeant Wyckoff, is it true that Cadet Hayley Mason led the mutiny by herself? Think carefully before you answer my questions.”
Cadet Wyckoff jumped to attention, though less rigidly than Cadet Mason had, with a self-assured cockiness that told Lance he often tried to charm his way out of trouble. “That’s correct, Sarge, right on the money.”
Wyckoff never saw it coming, so confident was he that his charisma would save him. Without missing a beat, Lance pulled the flenser pistol out of the holster on his thigh and shot Fitzgerald in the head. This abrupt execution caused a rippled gasp around the room, as 1st Squad finally had one reaction that was unified. Apparently that’s what it takes to get everyone’s attention?
“Alright, for showing leadership and being willing to take ownership of her actions, Cadet Sergeant Hayley Mason is now your new assistant squad leader and will assume Cadet Wyckoff’s old job. Now, for the rest of you, relax. I fired a gel round filled with a mild neurotoxin with extreme sedative properties. He’ll wake up, demoted and hopefully humbled, as a rifleman in Hotel Fire Team. Let this be a valuable lesson for all of you. Now it’s time to suck it up and drive on.”
Lance took a moment to scan the room, glad that every Cadet was accountable. Punctuality was not a bad starting point for an infusion of discipline. After taking a deep breath, he began his uphill battle against the complacency of these Cadets. “My name is Veteran Sergeant Scipio; you may call me Sergeant Scipio or Sergeant but I will shoot the next frakker that calls me ‘sarge’. Is that clear?”
When there wasn’t an appropriately loud chorus of affirmation, he tried again. “Apparently you don’t know how this works. I ask the questions, you answer the questions honestly and we all get along. Failure to do so ends up with disharmony and you will suffer for it. So I will try again. My name is Veteran Sergeant Scipio; you may call me Sergeant Scipio or Sergeant but I will shoot the next frakker that calls me ‘sarge’. Is that clear?”
This time the message was received, and the entirety of 1st Squad jumped to attention and shouted out a rousing: “Loud and clear Sergeant, loud and clear!”
Finally satisfied that they were picking up what he was laying down, Lance decided to move along to the rest of instruction. Man, I really ought to plan out my remarks and lessons next time.
Just as Lance was about to continue with his introductory lesson into being a Marine, the squad again began to talk quietly among themselves, as if he wasn’t there. This won’t do. Things have to change or we all die, mused Lance. The first order of business is to change the environment, make them fit into my world and not the other way around…. but how? First, get them out of their comfort zone. What should scare these kids more than anything else? Aux time! Okay, I’ve got these kids’ number now. They belong to me.
After realizing that they wouldn’t listen until he forced them to, he sent a message to his newly appointed assistant squad leader ordering her to restore some semblance of military order and discipline. Cadet Sergeant Mason tried, she made a valiant effort, but this group was incorrigible.
Okay, I gave them their last chance. After quickly telling Xena to provide him a targeting matrix for his squad, he pulled out his pistol and began shooting every talking Cadet between the eyes. When the room was quiet, he went on to shoot anyone who hadn’t remained at rigid attention as he addressed them. Once he had finished, he surveyed the room and was surprised that only four Cadets remained conscious, though they had paled considerably since he pulled out his flenser pistol again. Good, let them always remember this day, he thought. He then had Xena pull up names for three of the Cadets, as the only face he recognized was Cadet Sergeant Mason.
Like magic, Xena seemed to know what Lance wanted without his asking. Her intuitive ability to know what he wanted, even before he asked, seemed odd to Lance because they hadn’t worked together long.
I bet it was all that time in cryofreeze, he decided. She would have been able to study my full military file and whatever else she could glean off of my medical reports from the Cryopod.
Lance, I have sent you the full military records of all of these Cadets to your Aimee for you to read at your leisure. However, in an effort at expediency, I will post a synopsis document you can read now on your TacScreen.
Cadet SGT Mason, Hayley: She is the youngest Cadet in the squad, at only 15, having been promoted out of the Novice School two years early for her superior aptitude. She was rejected by other squads who felt that her age would lead to immaturity, potentially bringing down their unit score, possibly ending in them being chosen for the Cull. Because nobody wanted her, she was assigned to 1st Squad, the land of misfit Marines. She was recently promoted to Cadet sergeant by you and is now the assistant squad leader. She’s excelled at every military classroom subject she has been taught, though could use some work on her field craft.
Cadet LSGT Thorn, Cristal: She is your typical Marine, exactly what you’d want from an NCO. She is smart, dedicated and over achieving yet remaining one of the guys, allowing her to build the kind of relationship with her subordinates which inspires confidence and loyalty. However, her populist leadership style creates a discipline vacuum that requires a firm hand to counter. This is evident in the current standing of 1st Squad, Whiskey Company, 8th Battalion 6907th TAC Regiment. This is a flaw in an NCO, but would be a perfect officer candidate if humans were eligible. While she knows this about herself – it is in her self-evaluations – she still strives to overcome her innate personality characteristics so she can become a competent NCO.
Cadet Batie, Fréderic: He is the oldest G-2 Class Cadet in the Regiment, having started the Novice School a year late due to a pandemic which swept the crèches in transit from the abandoned Diehler System. Normally the entire crèche would’ve been quarantined, and the survivors would have ca
rried on with training, but his father earned some pull when he turned the tide against the Tursas in the successful rearguard action at the Battle of Goriculus. He then used this clout to save his son and the other crèchelings living with him.
Cadet LCPL Rochambeau, Charlotte: She is an atypical Marine Cadet, prone to imaginatively re-interpreting orders, sometimes outright disobeying them. She is highly skilled in electronics, more so than any Cadet to go through Beta City in recent memory. For all her computer skills and general techy behavior, she is still a Marine with all the baggage that that entails. Her peers love her because of her hacking skills and I believe that she is the one who hacked the Cadets’ SA-71s and allowed them to graduate from the Novice School, because that’s the only way I can conceive that they made it through. This is definitely something you should investigate, quietly and unofficially, so you can clear any potential minefields. If we can turn this Bitter Betty around, she will be an incredible asset to the squad and the regiment at large.
Lance took a second to order Xena to make contact with the Hardit that ran the Aux Crew before turning to address the four Cadets in his squad who remained conscious. “All right, Cadets, you are the only four Cadets in the entire squad who seem to possess a shred of military bearing. These sleeping frakkers are going to be sent to work the mines or whatever the dirtiest job the Auxies do in Beta City. While they are gone for the next seven days you will square away the entire squad’s habdisk barracks, and then we will assist Aux Tech Basil in preparing the unit’s new equipment. Report to the Aux Tech in the 1st Section Leaders barracks and he will assist you in turning those dung heaps into military quarters. Let me stress, he works for me, and as such reports only to me. You crèchelings made the mess, you can dang sure square it away. Dismissed!”
The Cadets, no doubt more scared than they ever had been at the prospect of being sentenced to time in an Aux Labor Camp, popped out a loud and sincere ‘Yes, Sergeant’ before scurrying out of the ready room and off towards their barracks.
——
Two Hours Later
Lance sat at the commander’s podium in the company ready room, reading the files on his four remaining Cadets while he waited for the lead Hardit to report. He was so engrossed in the full records on Cadet Rochambeau that he missed the arrival of Senior Auxiliary Supervisor Selassie Julma-Johtaja. She was nothing like the Hardits he remembered from Kalino. She looked grotesquely obese, slovenly, and was covered in old scars and greying fur. By Horden’s Hairy Fanny, how did she ever rise through the Hardit ranks?
The Hardit, clearly angry at being summoned by a mere human, reported her presence to him with all the disdain that her mechanical voice box could muster. “Excuse me, Cadet, I am looking for whoever’s in charge here. Don’t dawdle, I am a very important person and haven’t got all day.”
Realizing that her calling him a Cadet was a deliberate ploy to arouse his ire, Lance let it roll off his back and smiled. He briefly checked the Aimee on his arm so he could find out to whom he was talking, before replying. “Rest easy, Senior Auxiliary Supervisor Selassie Julma-Johtaja, I know I look young, but as they say the cream always rises to the top, eh? I can see you are a very busy person, so I will keep this brief. I was recently placed in charge of this squad of misfits you see unconscious around you. Clearly they’ve displeased me, this simply won’t do. I would like to request that you and your brethren put them to work for the next seven days as some of your Auxies. You can do everything short of kill or maim them, so long as they are still physically capable of becoming Marines at the end. Have them clean the shitters, or whatever unpleasant tasks you have that are even below your Aux crews. Is this something we could accomplish together? I am sure I can arrange to send a case of Hardit homebrewed grok to you, for your staff of course, to show my appreciation.”
Selassie seemed to consider his offer, with a look in her three eyes that was so cunning, conveying such a craftiness that Lance immediately feared he’d underestimated her. Her reply, moments later, concluded the matter. He was about to be outfoxed by this wily creature, something she was clearly relishing. “Well, my young sergeant, I imagine I could be persuaded to have my people come up and put your unruly Cadets to work. My overseers could help install some of that elusive discipline into these young ones, but surely one case wouldn’t be enough to quench the thirst of all of them. Make it ten cases, throw in some training munitions to help us frighten the poor crèchelings, and we have struck a deal.”
After briefly trying to find a valid reason to deny her increased demands, when Lance had so much invested in the success of his squad, he gave in. “SAS Selassie, the bargain is struck. I will deliver half now and the rest upon retrieving my Cadets.” Before he had even finished his last sentence, she was sending messages to her minions through the ready room’s data terminal. When she had done, she disappeared out the door without even a nod of recognition.
Realizing he hadn’t specified who needed to arrange the transport of the unconscious Cadets, Lance asked Xena to see what Selassie had communicated to her fellow Hardits.
Rest easy, the senior supervisor has ordered a crew of Auxies to report here and retrieve our wayward charges. I estimate that they should be here within the hour, well before the Cadets wake up. I imagine the horror of waking up as an Aux, without knowing if it is permanent, will get your point across nicely.
— Chapter 13 —
Sergeant’s Quarters
City Phase Unit 1, Habdisk 612, Room 101
1st SQD, Whiskey Co., 8th BN, 6907th TAC RGT
While his squad was paying the piper in Auxland, Lance decided he needed to have a heart to heart with Cadet Lance Corporal Rochambeau. He was absolutely convinced that she was his hacker, and this was how this squad had graduated from the Novice School; that she was also the one who had unlocked the full features of the SA-71. He took a second to ensure his room was spotless and that the attached office was pristine, lest he set a bad example. Once he was satisfied that his uniform and room were immaculate, he had Xena page his little wire monkey for their meeting.
In the moments before Cadet Rochambeau got to his room, Lance had Xena prepare the electronic security measures, but ordered her to wait before initiating the program. He knew he had to give Cadet Rochambeau the chance to decline her right to have the proceedings recorded. Once she made the call, it would take mere seconds for Xena to wrap an electronic web around the room so tight that even God would struggle to eavesdrop.
Before Lance had time to get bored with his preparations, Cadet Rochambeau knocked smartly on his door. He hit the button to open it, and she marched into the room, saluted and reported in. She was shorter than the rest of her squad mates, at only five foot five inches, and weighed 123 pounds. Her hair was a coppery red that, along with her porcelain complexion, not only made her brilliant blue eyes stand out, but also further highlighted how petite she was. She looked like she’d blow away in one of the severe storms that Kalino was known for, but her records indicated a brilliant ferocity about her that made him think she was often underestimated because of her stature.
“Sergeant, Cadet Lance Corporal Charlotte Rochambeau, reporting in as ordered, Sergeant!”
Lance made her wait, pretending to be engrossed in the file he wasn’t reading, for no other reason than to prove that he could. After a few moments had passed, he looked up, returned her salute, and nodded for the chair in front of her. She seemed to understand the intent, for she instantly sat down at a rigidly modified form of attention.
“Cadet Lance Corporal Rochambeau, before we begin this official counseling session, I must advise you of your rights under the Human Marine Corps Code of Justice. You have the right to have these proceedings recorded and for everything to be strictly on the record. Do you understand these rights as I explained them to you?”
With a visibly paler face and wobbly voice Cadet Rochambeau spoke. “Yes, Sergeant, I understand these rights and decline to have the proceedings recorded.”
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br /> Lance, however, was a stickler for protocol and procedure. Ironic that I’m now the rigidly by the book jackass, given not long ago I was a jackass rifleman who just wanted to have fun. “Cadet Rochambeau, you are aware that by declining to record these proceedings you waive any right to appeal the outcome of this counseling session?”
This time there was a noticeable pause, as the possibilities seemed to weigh her down. “Yes, Sergeant, I’m aware that by waiving the right to record these proceedings I also forfeit the right to appeal.”
Lance sat there stoically, not reacting, and simply waited. Will my non-reaction cause her to change her mind? How much effort do I make to allow her to reverse course? After giving it a few moments, he sent Xena the command to electronically isolate his office from the grid, thereby ensuring total privacy for their conversation.
While trying to look severe, Lance began his discussion with a firm demeanor, trying to channel all of the instructors and sergeants he had ever worked for. “Alright, now that the formalities are out of the way and the room is electronically secure, we have much to discuss. I’m aware that you have been hacking the White Knight databases. I’m also aware that you hacked the SA-71 rifles and unlocked features intended only for full Marines. Further, I know that you falsified the scores from 1st Squad that allowed you to graduate from Novice to Cadet. I could go on, but I believe that those are the highlights. What have you to say for yourself?” I wonder if she will admit it the first time. Probably not, I wouldn’t have in her shoes.
Rochambeau looked even paler, causing Lance to idly wonder if there were any color brighter than her white alabaster skin with which to attribute her complexion. After taking a deep breath –she is probably trying to calm her nerves, yep she is going to lie to me – Cadet Rochambeau answered his inquiry. “Sergeant, I don’t know what you are implying, but I am an advocate of regulations and wouldn’t–”
