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Tarik: Entry Level Warfare

Page 8

by K. A. Kerr


  Lamb moved the canister from the center of the table and activated a display. The display showed two side by side pictures of young men dressed in rags.

  “Thirty nine years ago today, Dav and I came aboard this ship.” Lamb said pointing to the pictures.

  Tarik leaned in closer to have a look with his one good eye. Both young men in the pictures looked as if they had been pulled from a garbage hauler. They were malnourished, carried no personal effects but looked tough. Each of them had a fire in them that said they would not accept the hands they had been dealt.

  “We actually hated each other when we first met. Both of us thought we were the toughest men on the ship.” Dav said.

  The image changed to two men being held back in the Dome much like Tarik was the other day. Lamb’s mouth was open in a scream; veins popped out of his neck in rage. Dav had his fist pulled back ready to punch Lamb.

  Lamb help up his glass and the men drank again. Tarik felt fuzzy this time, the warmth in his stomach took some of the remaining pain away.

  The image changed again and both men sat in a holding cell. Lamb had a black eye; Dav had a red lump in the center of his forehead.

  “The next day we met with an instructor who changed our lives.” Dav said.

  The image changed yet again and both men had looked as bad as Tarik did earlier. Lamb now sported two black eyes and his right arm was in a sling. The left side of Dav’s face was purple but not swollen, bruises on his neck matched the one’s he had given Tarik.

  “To instructor Zu and the best friend I met through a fist fight.” Dav said raising his glass and smiled at Lamb.

  The men drank again and Tarik saw the love these men had for each other. He doubted he and Rye would ever do this but it was encouraging to see that the men were once in his same situation.

  Lamb saw that Tarik understood what the men were showing them and smiled at him.

  “It’s not always going to be easy Tarik but we see something in there. With some hard work we would love to welcome you into our family.” Dav said.

  “You have friends here; some of the crew truly admires you Tarik.” Lamb said. “I look forward to helping you find control and taking your place with us.”

  Dav and Lamb stood up at the same time; they held their cups high. Tarik rushed to join them, clinking his glass against theirs.

  “To Tarik, may he find peace through battle, control of his emotions and brothers in arms.”

  The three men drank again, Tarik felt inspired to do well.

  Dav and Lamb shook hands and Lamb left the two of them in the training room.

  “I will have a Gi delivered to your room, come dressed in that tomorrow.” Dav told Tarik as he walked to the door.

  Tarik sat in the chair feeling hopeful about his future on the ship for the first time. If the old men could accept him and teach him he stood a chance.

  Dav poked his head back through the doorway. “Oh, and stay away from my daughter.” he said before he disappeared again.

  “Shit.” Tarik said while sitting alone in the empty room.

  7 - An Observer

  * * *

  Tarik started to settle into a routine. Meals, showers, and training progressed without issue for two weeks. The ship had gone to jump, headed for an as of yet undisclosed location. He wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for the transparent windows on the track he ran with Goddess. Only a flash of light when the ship passed through another membrane betrayed the notion that they remained in place.

  Tarik looked at himself in the mirror; his body had grown leaner and tighter. He thought he was losing lean muscle mass so he started weight training after his training sessions with Dav. He wasn’t quite on the level of the pilots but he could make out ridges of his abdominal muscles. When he balled his fists he could see muscles wrapping around themselves in his forearm.

  Lamb had him on the range and he was scoring seven stars out of ten on the intermediate courses. He’d replayed the original battle scenario and no longer lost assets. He’d moved on to more complicated scenarios; some involved flying enemies, others incorporated artillery.

  His work with Dav was moving at a very slow pace. Most of his time there had been learning the basics of throwing punches and kicks with correct form. He didn’t feel like he was progressing as fast as he should but bad habits learned over a lifetime were hard to break.

  He checked his log for the day and his training had all been cancelled. He had five bathrooms to clean then after midday meal he was to report to medical. Tarik could have lived happily without having to see the doctor again but he’d like to talk to Tilla if the opportunity presented itself.

  He no longer had to sit at the kiddie table, his seat was moved to the combat table but he frequently talked with the pilots. Scout Three was one of the nicest guys he’d ever met, Tarik was shocked to find out he was only five years old. His Dereft mother sent him out into the world as another unwanted son at the age of one but he’d matured to the body of a twelve year human by that time. Scout Three explained that Dereft women kept the sperm of human males alive inside their body for up to four years, using the sperm sparingly to have more children. They would only become pregnant again after the last child had left the home. The males being infertile were larger considered trash in Dereft culture; they were left to fend for themselves early in life. Fascinated, Tarik found out more about Dereft culture and Scout Three’s journey to the Beetle.

  Tarik also became close to Mange, the little guy had incredible stories and a true talent with rifles despite his poor naturally poor eyesight. Mange had lost his original eyes to a genetic defect, where they shrunk and fell out as a pup. Although not required for an underground life his defect made it difficult to find a mate. He’d volunteered for medical experiments and had been given his new eyes but due to his genetic defect he still couldn’t find a mate on his home world. Tarik asked if Mange had an interest in Tilla, he didn’t get a direct answer but understood he wouldn’t pursue her because they were both “damaged” but refused to elaborate. Tilla had not seemed damaged to him but maybe he lacked the Flarr perception.

  Razor still gave Tarik the evil eye from his perch but a “Leave me alone, and I will leave you alone” policy had been silently agreed on. Razor only reacted when Rye would come into the Dome which was rare.

  Daze and he still talked in the Dome but he’d kept her at a distance heeding Dav’s warning. Daze was a good person, she had such an animated and bubbly personality. Tarik couldn’t see how anyone couldn’t like her. Daze told him stories with the strangest sound effects and huge hand motions. He didn’t care if she was telling him about the weather back on Sol, it always made him smile.

  He and Goddess ran three laps around the ship now with six laps in the pools between each lap. He didn’t think he would ever be able to outrun her but he pushed himself faster and faster every time. He still wanted her but had forced his fantasies away when working with her which made things easier for him. She still flirted with him hard and he did his best to ignore it but it drove him mad on the inside. There were several other shower ‘mishaps’ but he’d hide his excitement as best he could.

  Rye hadn’t said another word to him, or Daze as far as he could tell. He’d see Rye mouthing things to herself but didn’t worry about it.

  Life was turning out to be not so bad here, Tarik’s smiles came easier and he felt like he was developing meaningful relationships.

  Tarik finished his cleaning and went to medical. He’d talked to Mange and found out a gift would only be delivered if he had romantic interests in Tilla, which wasn’t the case. Mange taught him a gesture which was supposed to signify gratitude and respect.

  Tilla greeted him at the door. Before they walked in Tarik asked her to wait just a second. Tarik bent his knees and touched his hands to his toes; he tilted his head up at her and thrust his butt into the air four times. It was awkward and looked silly coming from a human male but he did it anyway.

&n
bsp; Tilla put her front pad on her nose and rubbed it twice in acknowledgement. She smiled and walked him the rest of the way in.

  “Please undress … completely.” Tilla said with a trace of anxiety in her voice.

  Tarik did as instructed, folding his jumpsuit and sitting it next to the examination chair. Tarik stood nude waiting for the doctor. Tilla did not openly stare at him but nervously glanced at him trying to divert her eyes.

  “Your body is changing.” Tilla noted. “For the better … not that it required improvement.”

  “Thanks.” Tarik replied with a big smile on his face.

  A few minutes of uncomfortable silence passed until the doctor came in.

  The doctor looked him up and down and walked around his body occasionally poking him with a small metal stick.

  “Visual change in body fat composition, fast and slow twitch muscle ratios have also changed. Sit in the chair for examination.” The doctor said.

  The examination chair ran through its process, including the anal probe, even though nothing had changed as far as body alterations were concerned.

  “Your body seems to be taking to training rather well. Although, there are some nanobody traces in your systems.” The doctor cast a hard glare at Tilla. “Proceed to station one and standby for instructions.”

  Tarik completed the exercises, he didn’t think his maximum weight lifts increased but he felt like he completed more repetitions. The run timer had gone very well; Tarik even managed to not vomit on the floor this time.

  The only thing that remained was the oxygen deprivation test. Tarik knew his scores would improve but had no desire to blackout.

  “Do I have to do that?” Tarik asked.

  “Yes. We just want to see if you can beat your previous time.” The doctor answered and a timer overlaid in the right corner of Tarik’s retinal implants frozen at “3:00”

  “Three minutes? I think I can do that.” Tarik said as he sat in the chair feeling fully confident that his swimming with Goddess would pay off.

  The chair went upright and weightlessness held him in the center as the glass encased him. The air was sucked from the chamber and Tarik held himself as still as possible forcing himself to remain calm as the counter ticked down to zero. When the timer passed zero and Tarik didn’t feel the air return he opened his eyes and sent a questioning look to the doctor who only stared back at him. The timer went to “+0:45” and Tarik tried to move his body to the glass. At “+1:15” The tunnel vision started and by “+1:38” his transition to darkness reached its end.

  Tarik woke up with his head on Tilla’s lap. “I really hate that son of a bitch.” Tarik said.

  Tilla gave him a shot and his headache vanished so she sent him on his way.

  Tarik was sitting at end of day meal still stewing over the deceit of the doctor when an alert came in that his newest assessment numbers had been compiled and available for review. He decided he’d wait until he was alone in his bunk in case he had the need to sting curse words together.

  He sat at the edge of his bed, looking out into the asteroid field, calming himself before he saw his new numbers. Finally feeling at peace he pulled up his assessment in full immersion.

  Subject: Tarik

  Species: Human

  Sex: Male

  Traits: Northern European lineage

  Chronological age: 35.1

  Biological age: 26

  Life expectancy without combat: 166

  Height: 73 inches

  Weight: 198.24 lbs.

  Body fat: 12.4%

  Water weight: 65.8%

  Alterations: retinal implants, repaired right leg, replaced femoral artery, surgically repaired right shoulder, and surgically repaired left hand.

  The video showed the newest version of Tarik nude and floating in the air.

  All scores based on a maximum score of 100 for human males

  Flexibility: 52

  Endurance: 64

  Strength: 74

  Tactics: 38

  Intelligence: 63

  Recall: 60

  Oxygen Retention: 78

  Social Skills: 64

  Life expectancy with combat at current scores: 38.9

  His numbers for the most part had improved dramatically. The thing he was most surprised about was his tactics score. He’d been busting his ass working with Lamb. He didn’t know how the score was calculated but he felt certain it was damn well better than thirty-eight!

  “Thirty fucking eight?” He said to the empty room.

  Tarik would have a serious discussion with Lamb tomorrow. He headed off to the gym for some weight training, trying to work through his anger and disappointment.

  The next day he hadn’t calmed down, he muttered thirty eight repeatedly as he scrubbed toilets. His appointment with Lamb was coming up and he didn’t know if he should go in screaming or not go at all since it didn’t appear that the training was going very well. Tarik went anyway ready to argue why he deserved a higher score.

  When he walked in Lamb didn’t give him time to bring anything up but sent him out to the range immediately. Tarik completed the exercise but his scores reflected his anger. He only scored six stars of the thirteen possible.

  “Something wrong with you Tarik? You completely failed this run.” Lamb asked him.

  “My scores from yesterday. How could you do that to me?” Tarik replied.

  “Do that to you? I did nothing to you; you make your own scores.”

  “I’ve been working hard here, I’m not a master but I know I score a hell of a lot better than a thirty fucking eight!”

  “Calm yourself Jimmy. You do work hard but you forgot rule number two. If you want to do better I suggest you use your recall on that.” Lamb said getting angry with him. “Get out. We’re done for the day.”

  Tarik left in a huff, even more upset now that Lamb called him Jimmy. He actually couldn’t wait to get to his appointment with Goddess. He needed to run some of his pent up energy off.

  Goddess read his emotions when he approached her normal spot on the walkway.

  “What bothers you?” She asked him.

  “My tactics scores for yesterday. I’m better than that.”

  “So you are angry with yourself? That is why you have the old look of rage boiling within you?”

  “I’m angry with Lamb; he shouldn’t have scored me that low.”

  “Lamb did not give you that score. You made the score you received.”

  “What do you mean? The doctor would have got that score from Lamb wouldn’t he? I mean it’s not like the doctor comes to my tactics class and he doesn’t have the time to review the footage of my training.”

  “You are acting like a child. Take some time to think about it, you will figure it out but not when you are so angry. Prove to Lamb you are better than that if it means so much to you.”

  “You’re saying that if I do better on the range the doctor will give me a better score?”

  “I am saying you should always do your best on the range. Before your next assessment you should remember what had been taught to you. Now come, we run.” She said as she turned and darted off.

  As they finished the sixth lap around the track Tarik felt a little better. By the time he completed his twelfth and final lap in the pool he felt like he had calmed enough to focus on his training with Lamb again. Goddess gave him a look of disapproval as she headed out the door; he was back to his old standing with her after his outburst.

  Tarik met with Dav, he’d felt like he was his clear headed controlled self again but Dav knew something still simmered underneath.

  Tarik stood in the center of the room striking a post that had been moved there for training.

  “Left jab.”

  Tarik stuck the post as Dav walked around him observing his form.

  “Right jab.”

  Tarik struck the post.

  “Left jab. What’s bothering you Tarik?” Dav asked.

  “Just my scores from yeste
rday.” Tarik said as he struck the post.

  “Left kick. Ah, so you're distracted?”

  “No, Just doing as I’m told.”

  “Good so you won’t mind another distraction then.” Dav said as he pulled a steel ball that fit comfortably inside his fist out from behind his back. “Catch.” He said as he tossed the ball to Tarik.

  Tarik fumbled with the ball, juggling it twice in his hands before securing it.

  “Toss the ball up with your left hand, strike the post with your left then catch the ball with your right hand.” Dav instructed.

  Tarik tried and he missed the ball by a foot as it headed towards the floor.

  “Again.” Dav ordered.

  Tarik attempted it four times before he barely caught the ball.

  “Change hands.” Dav ordered.

  Whenever Tarik started to feel like he was getting the hang of it Dav would switch it up. By the end of the session Dav had Tarik doing a combination of punches and kicks while the ball was in the air.

  “Time is up; don’t come in here distracted again.” Dav said as he left.

  Tarik sat in his bunk and considered his options. Goddess was right he was acting like a child, impressing Lamb was for some reason important to him. Tarik made a vow then that he would do so well in the course that Lamb would have no choice to give him a good score. He needed an edge; the class time alone wouldn't cut it.

  “Game tape!” He shouted to his empty room.

  Tarik pulled up his training files, instead of going full immersion he would put it up on his smart wall and pick his technique apart. The only problem was he didn't have anything that showed him his mistakes. There was no master codex or teacher’s scorecard.

  Tarik poked around in the system until he came across footage of other people training. He'd only seen one other person train so far and she was great.

  He pulled up Goddess’s files and hunted for the scenario matched his own. She'd scored twelve of thirteen stars before she was passed.

  He watched her tape and took voice notes timed to the video. When she got to the seventh minute he noticed an error she made. Goddess dropped her shoulder during a vault and took a laser shot to the back. She hadn't even noticed the shooter. Excited, Tarik had the note transcribed and put it to the side of his video for improvements to be made. What he was doing wasn't illegal; it wasn't even unethical as far as he was concerned.

 

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