by J E Loddon
“Um… yeah. Of course. We’re, er, all new to this, and I’m sure we’re all gonna get a lot better.” She nodded, satisfied with herself, then looked at Tasia. Tasia frowned, looked around, then thought for a minute.
“We all need to be involved with tactics and strategy,” she said. “I can memorize them, and I can tell everyone what they need to be doing at any given time. But I need help with learning what good strategy is. We can all work on that.”
“Anything you need me to do, I’m happy to do it,” Casper said. “We’ll all screw up at times, no doubt. I know I will. But I don’t think we should throw blame at each other. As long as we’re all trying our best, that is.” He smiled. “If someone isn’t making an effort, then we can yell at them, right?” We all looked at Liberty.
“No yelling, unless someone’s not trying, that sounds good to me,” she said. Everyone then turned to me. I shifted in my seat. I wasn’t sure what to say, what really I could say.
“I’m not really a fighter,” I began. “It’s not something I’ve ever really had to deal with. It’s gonna take me a while to build up any actual skill with it. But. I will definitely try. ‘Cos, hey, it’s try or die, right?” Liberty winced at this. “What, you don’t like that slogan? Try or die? I think it’s kinda catchy?” I said, trying to lighten the mood. Liberty shook her head, but everyone seemed a bit happier about life now we’d cleared the air. I wasn’t sure we’d actually solved much, but we had at least all agreed not to yell at each other. Which was nice, cos I knew more often than not I’d probably have been the target. We continued to eat in silence. It was no longer a frosty silence, though. It was more of a pensive one.
We said our goodbyes after dinner. We could have found a room, done some more talking, continued clearing the air, but we were all pretty drained. It had been a big day. We all needed time to ourselves to process the information. I went to my sleep quarters, and a couple of the guys were sitting around, so I joined them. We spoke about nothing really, small talk, but not forced. It was easy talk that had no substance to it. Talking about exercises we’d done over the past few weeks. What we enjoyed doing, what we hated. They both had their own issues with their squads. Not up to the same scale as mine, from what I could tell, but they both said little things in passing that echoed feelings in my own head. It was difficult for everyone. We were all just teenagers who’d been thrown together with complete strangers, with very little space, and in a high pressure situation. A whole squad who all got on well together at this stage would be an exception, not a rule.
The room started to fill up. There was talk thrown around, though again, nothing of any substance. I didn’t mention that I’d gotten my first orders, and neither did anyone else. I wondered if maybe we’d been the only squad that had gotten them, but that seemed impossible.
Eventually, we all settled down, and it was time to sleep. It took me an age to fall asleep. There was so much going around in my head, and I couldn’t process any of it efficiently. I didn’t know if I was scared about getting killed, or if I could even comprehend it happening. Despite everything, it still seemed such a long way off. I felt a bit better about the team dynamic, but really only a little. When it all hit the fan in the heat of battle, I didn’t know how well we’d all hold up. We weren’t ready; that was the bottom line. Despite all the training sessions, and the Evaluation, we needed more. The Evaluation should have been a pre-evaluation. An exercise, to show us exactly what it was that we all needed to work on in order to be ready for the actual Evaluation. Then, we’d be far better prepared for it, and far more confident about going into the field.
Maybe the next day, we’d be magically given all the skills, training, and information we needed. Maybe everything would be suddenly made better, with little effort required. It was unlikely, but it was a nice thought, at least. It gave me just enough solace to be able to drift off into restless sleep. I had some weird dreams that night. Nothing particularly substantial, or memorable. I just remember visions, really. Thoughts. Liberty running through a crumbling city, dragging me and Tasia along behind her. Our squad being torn to pieces by wild animals, with Casper passively standing in watch, making no move to help, completely untouched by the violence. Then Antonia, shooting down an entire platoon of enemies, dozens of them, the whole time giving me snide glances.
CHAPTER THREE
The next day, despite not having had very restful sleep, I felt pretty raring to go. I ate breakfast, got cleaned up, and arrived at our first exercise room prompt and ready. Hung was there, and patiently waited until we were all assembled and ready. He had the same passive look he always had, but somehow seemed more serious today. There was a desk and chairs in the room, and he motioned for us all to sit. Once we were all sat and settled, he spoke.
“So. Tomorrow’s the day. Nervous?” he asked. We all nodded wordlessly, even Liberty. “Good. I’d rather you were nervous. Some recruits go out on their first assignment cocky and desperate for action. Trouble usually finds them a lot quicker.” He motioned to a screen. “I’m going to explain the mission, and put up some key information up here.” We all turned to face the screen, and the lights in the room suddenly dimmed. A schematic of an area of space appeared on the screen. “We’re there,” he said, as a dot lit up in an area in the corner. “You are going here,” he continued, as another dot appeared over a planet near the opposite corner. Your ship won’t be dropping any other teams along the way, so it’ll be a direct journey.” Liberty and Tasia exchanged puzzled glances. As a scout team, we’d been told that generally, we’d be taken out with other scout teams, dropped off sequentially over different planets that shared an area of space. Hung picked up on our confusion, and was quick to dispel it.
“It’s your first mission, so you have the pilot’s full focus. Without any other teams to worry about, he can stick close, so that he can pick you up quickly, if necessary,” he said. This seemed odd to me. There were thousands of other recruits on the ship, hundreds of other scout teams. To send out a ship with just us on it seemed an incredible waste of resources. The screen closed in on the planet that we would be going to. It looked grey and white. “This is Abel4500874,” he explained. “It’s an uninhabited planet, mostly rocks and ice,” he continued. “The air isn’t breathable for humans, so you’ll be wearing breathers.” A groan went up all around the table. We’d had some practice putting breathers on and off, but not a lot, and only on the Anastasia. They added an extra element of danger. Not only could we be shot, we could also suffocate if anything damaged our breathing apparatus. Hung put his hands up to quell the groaning. “Get used to it. The galaxy is a harsh place. At least there is atmosphere, so you won’t be floating around in full suits.”
“We have a probe that flew through that area a few days ago,” Hung continued. “It got a ping from something on the surface of the planet. It’s a high-speed probe, not designed to pick up too much detail. The anomaly, however, was fairly uniform in shape, and denser than rock or ice.”
“So what do we think it might be?” Liberty asked.
Hung shrugged. “We don’t know. It could be a habitat, or it could be an area particularly rich in some form of ore. As I said, the probe didn’t pick up much detail. It’s a fairly remote area of space, and there seems little tactical advantage in anyone setting up a base on that particular planet. Unless there is some valuable resource there, that someone is trying to mine, that is. As I say, we don’t know. Which is where you guys come in. You get down there, you check it out. You’ll have scanning equipment, which Casper will obviously be in charge of.”
“What do we do if it’s a hostile alien force intent on our destruction?” Casper asked, with his usual dry, blunt approach. Hung almost smiled, but immediately squashed it.
“You retreat, use a rocket beacon to call the ship to pick you up. We’re not giving you explosives on this one, there’ll be no opportunity for sabotage. We’re not looking for heroics, we’re just looking to give you some experience.
” It all sounded fairly straightforward and logical. I knew from some of the screen-based exercises we’d done early on that probes often picked up things on remote planets that turned out to just be strangely uniform formations of rock, or some other geographical feature. I’d heard from someone (though wasn’t sure if I believed it) that twelve squads of troops had been sent to a planet one time to take out an enemy drilling rig, only to find it was an incredibly unusually shaped, carbon rich, mountain. I felt the tiniest little bit of relief. There was a chance I wouldn’t die my first time out after all.
“Do we have permission to engage enemy units, sir?” Liberty asked, her voice having taken on a very formal, militaristic tone. I knew she had signed up for this, and was probably looking for some action, but the suddenness of the change took me aback. This time, Hung did allow a little smile.
“You are only to engage in combat if your lives are threatened, soldier,” he told her. She shrank back a little in disappointment. I exchanged worried glances with Tasia. None of the rest of us wanted to walk into a firefight; not even Antonia, despite her bluster.
Hung continued with the briefing, giving some background on the area, what else was known about the planet. He also gave Casper some instructions about scanning for metals and other useful materials. The scanners, though, weren’t great for finding anything useful more than a few feet beneath the surface of the planet. I’d seen a video presentation a couple of weeks ago about precious natural resources, and how they needed to be particularly abundant in order to make a mining operation viable. I’d found it boring then, and even more boring now. I was nervous enough about the operation, and sitting there being told largely useless information wasn’t making me feel any better.
“Any more questions?” Hung finally asked, and I willed there to be none. I wasn’t feeling comfortable in the chair and I wanted to go somewhere to walk off the nervous energy I could feel building up within me.
“How long will it take the ship to pick us up after we launch the beacon?” Tasia asked.
“The ship will remain close, so no more than five or six minutes,” he replied. “In other circumstances, though, it’s important to remember that it could be anything up to an hour or so, depending on the ships itinerary, its position when it receives the beacon, and the status of the back-up shuttle.” This thought chilled me. If you were stuck on a planet where you’d encountered a hostile force, the only real shot at survival you had was a successful retrieval. If, however, another team on another planet needed to evacuate at the same time as you, then you could be in for a bit of a wait.
I tried to think of an intelligent question to ask. Even though I was keen to get out of the room and stretch my legs, I was also keen to show the group that I was making an effort. That I did have potential. As the Weapons Expert, though, there was little I could realistically ask that was of any relevance. We’d obviously have our weapons with us, as we always would. He’d already said we wouldn’t have explosives.
“Are all the weapons suitable for use in this particular planets atmosphere?” I asked, suddenly finding the right part of my brain.
“Yes. There are no harmful gases innate to the air there that would cause significant combustion,” he replied. “Gravity is comparable to your home planets.” I nodded, feeling very satisfied with myself that I’d managed to come up with something that seemed important.
With no more questions forthcoming, we were dismissed. After lunch, we were to do some light exercise in one of the obstacle arenas, though had been advised by Hung to keep it very light. He didn’t want any of us carrying an injury on our first time out. It was also an opportunity to wear breathers whilst doing physical action, which was definitely a good idea. I lost my mask several times on the obstacle equipment, before Casper pointed out that I didn’t have it fastened correctly. This sent a chill through me. If the drop pod had popped open the following day, and my mask wasn’t on properly, I wouldn’t have been able to breathe. Panic probably would kill me before anyone had the chance to sort me out.
I spotted Liberty holding her ribs after climbing up the sheer climbing wall. I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed, but everyone else was busy on other equipment. I debated asking her if she was OK, but I knew this would just annoy her. I was trying to get onto her good side, and that wouldn’t be the way to do it. Clearly, though, she was still suffering from the effects of the huge body tackle she’d made during the Evaluation. I had assumed that she had recovered, as she hadn’t mentioned it since the day after the event.
Liberty called us all into the middle of the room. “I want to do a communication exercise,” she said, her voice sounding muffled behind the mask. “If things get hairy, it’s gonna be difficult to be heard through these things over the sounds of gunfire. And plugging comms into these masks is too fiddly to do in the heat of battle.”
We went through some communication tests. We tried hand signals, guttural calls, and even discussed the potential use of gunfire as a way to communicate. In the end, we decided hand signals would be the best way, and Liberty and Tasia refreshed us on the standard hand signals that I vaguely remembered learning about several weeks beforehand. I started to get very stressed that I wouldn’t be able to remember what everything meant. If we were attacked, I was sure my mind would go completely blank, and none of this would mean anything. I suggested we have a couple of shouts for the most important things we might need to say, like ‘retreat’, and ‘help’. Ultimately, the decision was made that under the most dire of circumstances, we could certainly just open the mask for a few seconds to shout out if necessary. I didn’t find this a comforting solution, but I couldn’t come up with any alternatives either.
“One more thing,” Liberty said to us, as we were finishing off. “I want everyone wearing Derm suits.” Eyes went wide, and I was about to protest, but she held a hand up. “The heavy armour didn’t work in the Evaluation. It made you guys immobile and clumsy. Like Hung said, it’s a remote location, and isn’t likely to have an enemy presence.”
“He said it was a remote location,” Tasia agreed, “but I didn’t hear him say that we probably wouldn’t encounter the enemy.” Liberty shrugged.
“Well. He’s not allowed to say that,” Liberty said. “But it was pretty clear that that’s what he meant. This is a field test for us. We’re getting our own transport. The ship is staying close. This is another exercise,” She said confidently.
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m pretty sure all the stuff with the probe was real.”
“Well, yeah, I’m not saying this isn’t a real mission,” Liberty replied, “They have to check everything out. I’m saying that it is the lowest of the low priority, ‘cos they know it’s not gonna be anything. Just some heavy rock.”
We discussed it for a while. Every one of us, even Antonia, being very careful that it didn’t become heated. It came close, I have to admit. Some of us had very strong feelings about wanting to stay alive. In the end, we agreed to the Derm suits. She was right. I’d struggled to move effectively throughout the Evaluation, and anything I could do to appear more competent than I had then, was fine by me.
Because of the day’s unusual timetable, I didn’t get to see Chris when he was at breakfast, as it had coincided with our physical exercise. We decided not to have dinner as a squad either, keen to keep up our good record of not bickering over the last twenty-four hours. Instead, we agreed to meet for breakfast, so we could go over any last-minute things we needed to discuss. So I ate dinner alone. Potentially the last dinner I would ever eat, and I had no-one to share it with. I had considered looking for some of the guys I was a little bit friendly with, but I had told no-one that I’d received orders, and I knew I’d find it difficult to make small talk and not mention it.
I went to bed early too, to avoid conversations with my room mates. I’m not sure why I didn’t want to tell anyone. Maybe I didn’t like the idea of saying goodbye. Or maybe I just didn’t want to
see the look in their eyes when I told them. Looks of pity. Looks of fear. Looks of relief that it wasn’t them. Pretty irrational, really. Some of them may well have already been out on operations by that point, and I just hadn’t heard about it. And they’d all be surely getting their own assignments sooner rather than later. If I died the next day, I’d just be that quiet guy that wasn’t sleeping in his bunk anymore. If I survived, and I’d told them about the mission, then I’d be the guy that survived his first assignment, and there was no way I could cope with all the attention I’d get when I came back.
I thought I’d struggle to sleep that night. I had so much to think about. I still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that I was even going out on the mission, despite the very real briefing we’d had. I was also very unsure about wearing the Derm suit instead of the heavy armour. With the heavy stuff, I was sure I had a higher percentage chance of surviving, despite what Hung had said all those weeks back, and despite what Liberty might think. Oh, sure, it wasn’t a big thing to her. She didn’t like wearing the big suits. Despite all this, though, and despite the fact that I hadn’t gotten a chance to even tell Chris that I was going off on a mission, much less say goodbye, I fell asleep almost instantly.
