The bunks were rife with muttering, stuttering and clattering before the alarm went off. Today was firmware day, with platoon placements to come soon after. I swung off my bunk and got myself ready for the banal morning ahead.
The alarm sounded, and we all quickly moved outside, setting up in drill formation. Vance stood outside waiting for us.
"Good morning, recruits, it's your big day!" Vance proclaimed.
The barracks didn't move an inch, not wanting to give Vance the satisfaction of breaking dress.
"That means firmware installations this evening, where your cultivation practice slot usually is. The rest of the day is business as usual. Off to chow with you. Osei, I need a word."
We moved to the mess hall for breakfast, and I kept my eyes glued on Osei and Vance as we walked. I couldn't catch their conversation, but it didn't seem positive.
Is that about the platoon placements?
"What do you think that was about?" Sato asked as we walked.
"Not too sure, Osei said he'd be putting in the platoon requests today. Could be something to do with that?" I said.
"Hmmm, Vance didn't look too happy. Maybe the idea is a bust?" Tomás added.
"Could be… If it is a bust, well, I might have an ace in the hole."
"You gonna leverage your Tiernan name to get one done?" Jin said.
"Sure am. You guys said milk them for everything they're worth, may as well live up to that."
"Our goody two-shoes prep kid is going off to break the rules? Goodness gracious me." Hsu teased.
"Careful, Hsu, I might just leave you out of it."
Hsu pouted as we entered the mess hall. Breakfast was short and quiet. We ate eagerly, ready to move on with our training in the simulation pods.
The simulation centre hummed to life around us as we climbed into our pods. The familiar gel, the familiar contacts, the familiar wave of disorientation before the link settled.
Today, the training ground was different. The open hangar and drill markers were gone, replaced by a sprawling terrain map with rolling hills, dense tree lines, a river cutting through a valley, and a fortified settlement sitting on the high ground at the northern edge.
"Morning session is combined arms formation drills," Okafor's voice came through the comms. "You've been drilling basic movement and now you get to learn how to move with purpose. First formation, the anvil."
A holographic overlay appeared on my HUD showing the layout. Eight mechs in a tight defensive line at the front – heavy builds, high Vitality, designed to absorb damage and hold the line. Four flanking elements of three mechs each, positioned wide. A rear element of four support mechs and heavy gun mechs.
"The Anvil is your bread and butter. You hold ground, absorb the charge, and the flanking elements close around whatever commits to the front line. It's old, it's simple, and it works because simple keeps you alive when the comms go down and when plans fall apart."
We loaded into positions. I drew the right flank with Jin and Hsu. Sato was on the front line alongside Miller, which he accepted begrudgingly. Tomás, Osei and Ren sat in the rear. Andrew sat with the Ranged mechs.
"Alright, let's start moving in formation. Keep it tight and controlled."
Several markers appeared on the horizon.
"These are just some simulated enemies, you won't have to fight or anything just yet. Just keep in formation and run through the motions of an actual piece of combat."
The front line braced. The vanguards settled into their positions, guard up, spacing tight. The markers moved towards us quickly. Eventually they reached the front line as they braced, I stood still watching the whole thing go down.
Ughh, this is dull.
"Flanks — now."
The flanks moved around the markers, and behind them, we didn't swing, shoot or do anything. Just the simulated action within a simulation.
We hit the 'hostiles' from both sides, and the left flank closed from the opposite side. The pretend AI formation broke under pressure from three directions.
"Adequate."
"Yes, ma'am." We called in unison.
"Second formation, the wedge."
The overlay shifted. An inverted wedge appeared on the screen, a single point mech at the front, the formation widening behind in staggered pairs.
"The Wedge is your breakthrough tool. The point pilot takes the worst of it. The rest of you make sure their sacrifice counts."
"Tiernan. Point."
Called it.
I moved to the front as the entire formation moved into a wedge behind me.
"Move as smoothly as you can, don't break formation to go faster. Let's get the basics down first. Begin!"
My mech began to move forward, and the formation behind me kept surprisingly tight.
"Speeding up now, match my vectors," I called over the combined commlink. My HUD flared green as I received over a dozen affirmations of my order.
The entire formation moved quickly across the terrain; the previous days of clunky movement had already been drilled out of us. Hours, upon hours of drill, had refined our motor control to the point we could move easily.
A marker appeared in front of us, and we pushed towards it quickly and succinctly.
"Not great. Alright, let's run it again. We'll alternate between the Wedge and Anvil until we get them down perfectly."
"Yes, Ma'am!"
We ran the Wedge four more times and the Anvil six. Each run got us closer and closer to the perfection that Okafor demanded.
After running formations for hours, it was time for lunch. We settled down into our usual table with our usual slop.
I was halfway through my paste when Osei sat down at the table across from me, signalling Sato to move over. There was a moment of quiet as Osei took centre stage.
"The proposal was rejected," Osei said. "Vance took it to the battalion commander. Independent platoons require a minimum of ten D-Grade pilots at Level 30 or above and a corporate sponsor. We have the pilot count." He paused. "But we don't have the sponsor."
The table looked at me.
"Like the Tiernan Military Trust?" I said.
"Correct"
"Alright, leave it with me," I said.
He stopped and looked at me for a moment, I felt his eyes scanning over me.
"You can make this happen?"
"I can make a call. Whether they say yes is a different question."
"Then make the call." He stood. "Tonight."
He walked away. Ripley fell into step beside him from three tables away.
"Marcus," Jin said. "What's the plan?"
"I'm going to leverage everything they gave me. The framework, the proof of concept, the whole arrangement. They want a poster boy? Fine. But the poster comes with a platoon attached."
"Not bad, Marcus, could do with a little bit more motivation for your squad. But not bad for a small speech." Tomás joked.
We filed towards the academic block after our meal, and there was someone new standing at the front. An older lady with greying hair tied neatly into a bun. She wore the typical instructor uniform but with a Warrant Officer chevron planted on her chest.
Behind her was a whiteboard that read:
ENEMIES OF THE FEDERATION — AN OVERVIEW.
"You've spent six months training to fight. It's probably time someone told you who you'll actually be fighting. I am Instructor Hargraves, and you will address me as Ma'am or Sir." Hargraves pulled up a star chart on the main display. "The Federation borders two major powers. You know the first one intimately."
Footage of a Bugger swarm engaging with federation mechs played for about three seconds before Hargraves killed it.
"The Antaposid Collective. The Buggers. Hostile xenofauna operating on a near-hive-based coordination. You've been watching movies and battles with the Buggers since you could walk. The Buggers are the Federation's most active theatre of war and have been for the past millennia. Every deployment order, every mech corps casualty figure, every broadcast is built around the Bugger threat."
The classroom held its collective breath, the great enemy.
"But the Buggers aren't the only neighbour we have."
She shifted the star chart. The Federation's territorial boundary appeared in blue a sprawling, irregular shape spanning hundreds of systems. To the galactic east, the red markers of Bugger-contested space. And to the galactic west, a second territory, purple. Almost as large as the Federation itself.
"The Terran Imperium. The Imperium claims to be the true inheritors of Earth," Hargraves said. "Their founding mythology centres on a star system they call Sol. Identical in composition to the system our own historical records identify as humanity's origin point. Their claim is that the Federation is a splinter civilisation that lost its way, and that the Imperium represents the unbroken line of human civilisation from the original home-world."
"Is it real Ma'am?" a kid asked. "Their Sol system, is it actually the original?"
"The Federation's official position is that the Imperium fabricated their Sol system to legitimise their rule. Planetary configuration can be engineered, given sufficient time and resources. The Imperium's counter-position is that the Federation fabricated theirs." Hargraves shrugged. "Both sides have presented evidence. Though the historical record from before the scourge is fragmented, so true evidence is difficult to obtain."
She pulled up a second display of force composition data, territorial boundaries, and diplomatic timelines.
"The Federation and the Imperium have not engaged in direct military conflict for one hundred and seven years. The Meridian Accords established a demilitarised corridor between our territories and formalised a mutual non-aggression framework. For a century, that framework has held."
"The Accords are still active." Hargraves paused. "However. The strategic landscape has shifted in the past two decades. The emergence frequency of lost colonies has accelerated. Each emergence event adds population and territory to whichever power reaches it first."
"What happens when both sides reach for the same colony?" Jin asked.
"That hasn't happened yet." Hargraves looked at the star chart. "The demilitarised corridor has prevented direct competition over emergence events so far. But with the increased amount of Ether storms, and emergence of old colonies, there is bound to be territorial disputes."
She killed the display.
"The Imperium's position is that coexistence is a temporary arrangement between the true inheritors of Earth and the pretenders who stole the name." She picked up her notes. "Dismissed."
The classroom emptied slowly.
"Well," Sato said as we filed out. "That's not terrifying at all."
The squad headed to the simulation centre for firmware installation. I told them I'd catch up.
"Where are you going?" Jin asked.
"Making that call."
"Go get 'em, Rabbit."
I walked to the administrative block and found a comm terminal on the second floor. Keyed in the Tiernan Military Trust contact code.
David's face appeared on the screen.
"Marcus. Leaving it late, huh?"
"I'm accepting the framework installation. Tonight."
His expression softened.
"That's good to hear. Arthur will be—"
"I'm not finished." I leaned forward. "I have an additional condition."
"Oh?" David said, humour tinging in his voice.
"The Tiernan Military Trust sponsors an independent platoon. I want my squad and the rest of my bunks in one platoon. We tried going through official channels, but it fell short. The proposal was rejected because it needs an officer sponsor or a registered trust with institutional standing."
"Ahh, so you want to leverage the framework and the deal?"
"Pretty much."
"I'll need to speak with Arthur."
"Well, make it quick. Firmware goes in tonight, and so does platoon assignment. If the platoon isn't sponsored by the time assignments post, the framework goes back in its case, and your proof of concept walks away."
"I'll call you back within the hour," he said.
The screen went dark.
I stood in the alcove, my heart hammering.
Did I really just fight with the Tiernan's politically? Shit, that was kind of fun.