Alarms blared throughout the barracks. I quickly sat up from my cot. It sucked waking up in an unfamiliar place. In the cot next to mine, I saw Noah sit up as well. He had kept his entire suit on, of course. He did take it off for the showers yesterday (they were completely private, so there wasn’t any risk of revealing his identity), but otherwise, he spent all of his time wearing his spacesuit.
The alarms continued blaring for a few more seconds, and the other recruits around us started waking up. The speakers sounded, Ceel’s harsh voice echoing through the barracks and the halls.
“Wake up, recruits! We’re starting an early day today. Take ten minutes to get ready, and head to the mess hall for breakfast! We’ll start training immediately after!”
A series of groans emanated from the recruits, but we all started rushing to get ready. I threw on my suit, adjusted my helmet, and grabbed my handgun. I tightened my boots, and slipped on my gloves. We still had a few minutes before we needed to meet at the mess hall, so I took the opportunity to check my tablet. I had received a few messages from Yori. Apparently, they’d settled in at the spacesuit department, and were given a place to stay. Apparently, the military were also paying Yori quite well, which was good. It was a wonder spacesuit corporations hadn’t picked up Yori already. They were quite skilled in their field.
After replying to Yori’s messages and telling them I had to leave for training, Noah and I rushed out of the barracks and made our way to the mess hall. There, we ordered breakfast. I ordered a dish with some sort of toast, eggs from a creature I didn’t recognize, and juice. I wasn’t sure what kind of juice it was, but it was good. Noah had the nutrient paste. Poor guy.
While we were eating, a short Sabi approached us.
“Hey, you’re Saka, right?” The Sabi said. “I recognize you from the Tavern.”
“Yeah, I am.” I replied. “You’re a merc too?”
“Sure am. I’m Keshi, by the way. Ceel’s offer sounded a lot more tempting than trying to find mercenary work elsewhere, and I lost my ship. So I ended up here.” Keshi said.
“Same here.” I shook my head. “Damn Haivu blew up Maralu while my ship was still in it.”
Keshi laughed. “Yeah, same here. I figured I might as well earn money to get a new ship, and get revenge on those bugs while I was at it. Anyways, I just wanted to greet you. There’s a few other mercs from the Tavern here, too. Hopefully we get in the same regiment or platoon or whatever the military does. I’m going to head back to my table now. See you around, Saka.”
I raised my hand to signal a goodbye, and went back to attacking my meal.
“So, some mercenaries ended up here like us, huh.” Noah said. He sipped on his nutrient paste.
“Yeah,” I replied, “I guess some of them weren’t lucky enough to escape with their ship, and had to resort to an evac ship like we did.”
“Glad to see we’re not the only mercs with shitty luck. I don’t see Tsu, Kara, and Bubbles anywhere. Hopefully they made it out.” Noah said, scratching his chin.
I cracked my knuckles. “They’re experienced and skilled mercs, with a high end ship. I’d bet they made it out safely, and are working again someplace else. I’d like to see them again, though. They’re good people.”
“Agreed.”
Noah choked on his nutrient paste.
“I hope this war is over soon, or I’m going to fucking lose it. It’s only the second day, and I can’t stand this paste stuff!” Noah complained. “I’ll end this war myself, if I have to!”
“Yeah, I don’t want to be stuck in the military for too long. It’s too restrictive for me. We need to get you back home, too.” I agreed.
“If it gets too bad, we can always desert.” Noah said.
I couldn’t tell if he was joking.
----------------------------------------
Later, Ceel guided us out of the mess hall and towards the docking bays. We marched towards the gigantic warship that Ceel was the captain of. Its gargantuan size dwarfed buildings and ships beside it. We stopped in front of a ramp leading into the belly of the warship.
“Attention! You’ll be undergoing training relating to manning this warship, today. There’s a lot to go over! You will be deploying on this ship, so make sure to remember everything!” Ceel shouted.
This was the ship I was going to war with. The size of the warship was mind-boggling. The thrusters themselves could’ve covered an entire city block. The warship was long and rectangular, with a squat bridge sitting on top. Uncountable cannons and turrets decorated all surfaces of the warship, and several fighter bays were visible through the semipermeable force field windows on the warship. The front end of the ship tapered to a trapezoid. Warships were on a completely different level than regular ships. Regular ships were ants to the warship’s elephant.
Ceel marched us up the ramp and into the warship. A shadow was cast over us as the warship loomed overhead. The inside of the warship was brightly lit, with clean white corridors. Handles attached to treadmills lined the corridor walls, heading in each direction. They weren’t currently active, though.
Ceel pointed at the hooks. “Those handles are for when the artificial gravity fails, obviously. It rarely happens, but keep an eye out for them. They’re in every corridor.”
We kept walking. Ceel kept explaining the functions of every part of the ship, rattling them off like a grocery list. I felt like a child on a field trip. Ceel was several times larger than any recruit here, so that didn’t help my mental imagery either.
We were currently on the bottom level of the warship. The bottom of the ship was mostly for cargo, and land excursion vehicles. The cargo holds were separated into several different categories. They mostly held ammunition, spare parts, bombs, fuel, food supplies, and other things necessary on gigantic warships. There was a whole stocking crew dedicated to managing and distributing cargo. They were currently loading the ship, preparing it for war.
One of the cargo holds held land excursion vehicles. Surprisingly, this warship was capable of atmospheric entry. It could land on planets perfectly fine, which was a huge feat for a gargantuan ship like this. Troops could traverse planetside using buggies, trucks, and even tanks. Grounded combat was rare in today’s war, but it did happen occasionally. This warship was one of the several Galactic Union warships that was capable of grounded warfare.
We took an elevator to the next level of the ship. The second level mainly had to do with what made the ship fly. The reactor access was on this level, however the reactor itself was massive and spanned the height of several ship levels. The power distributor was also here. This level also had the warp drive, coolant tanks, fuel, and shield generator. Engineers, electricians, and other ship specialists mainly manned this floor. Ceel told us that this level wasn’t too important, since we were soldiers, not scientists. But we were supposed to remember the layout so we could defend this floor against boarders. Having enemy soldiers messing with your ship’s reactor was not a very good thing.
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The third level was simple. It was the center level of the ship, meaning there were two levels below it and two levels above it. This is where the warship’s soldiers were housed. There were several barracks on this level, spread evenly throughout the ship. They were space efficient, meaning they had bunk beds, and looked a lot less roomy than the barracks in the station. This level also housed the turret controls. There were several rooms that served as turret control rooms, where qualified soldiers would man the anti-ship turrets. Since there were hundreds of turrets, there were around a dozen turret control rooms.
The most important installment on the third level was the fighter bays, though. According to Ceel, there were ten fighter bays, and each of them housed a few hundred fighter ships and a couple hundred transport ships. Meaning, this warship had about 5,000 ships at its disposal. That took a while to sink in. Sure, each ship was small, but 5,000 of those were honestly insane. And the Galactic Union had a lot of these warships.
The entirety of the fourth level housed the high energy cannons. The cannons were massive, half as long as the ship itself. Their output was enough to cripple space stations. These cannons were nothing to laugh at. However, the energy drain was so high that it bit into the shield generator reserves. Which meant that using these cannons depleted the warship’s shields. Because of this massive drawback, the cannons were only used as a last resort, or as a gamble. I hoped to see them in action one day.
The fifth and the last level was the bridge. This was the most important level on the ship. This was where Captain Ceel herself was stationed. It was small compared to the rest of the ship, of course. Reinforced plexiglass lined with a force field served as a windshield for the bridge. On the bridge, Ceel would sit in the captain’s chair, surrounded by her advisors and navigating personnel. Us lowly recruits were likely to never see this bridge again, according to Captain Ceel.
After our little tour was over, Ceel guided us back to the third level, where the fighter bays were. All of the recruits were herded into a side room containing rows and rows of mock cockpits.
“This is the fighter simulation room!” Ceel announced. “Those of you who know how to fly, step forward. I’ll be testing you on these today. Those who receive a passing score on the simulation will begin fighter ship training alongside your normal training. We’ve got vacant fighter ships with nobody to pilot them, so I’d like to get as many trained pilots as I can.”
Ceel went on to explain how the simulations worked. Apparently, there were two types of simulations, for both types of ship housed in the fighter bays. The fighter ships, and the transport ships. The fighter ships were self explanatory. They had a pilot and a copilot, and was your typical small, zippy, ship that excelled in dogfights. The transport ships were a little different. Yes, they were still small, and fast, and capable of fighting, but not as much as the fighter ships. Their purpose was to carry soldiers and to board enemy warships.
Warship shields operated on a different scale than normal shields. They were large and durable, to prevent being shot out of the sky by massive cannons like this warship had. A warship was an easy target. Therefore, the shields sacrificed their security for protection against projectiles. A transport ship was capable of squeezing their way through a warship’s shields, latching onto the hull of the warship, and allowing our soldiers to board enemy warships. From there, the boarding soldiers would make their way to the key components or the bridge, and disable them. This was how most warship battles were fought. A warship’s shields were rarely depleted from outside attacks, instead they were usually disabled by boarders. A transport ship’s job was to get the soldiers onto the ship, and a fighter ship’s job was to protect their approach and retreat.
Anyways, the fighter simulation was simple. Escort the transport ships and protect them from other fighter ships. The transport ship simulation was different, however. They had nothing to do with piloting. Ceel didn’t need any more transport ship pilots, because they had to be incredibly qualified. Instead, the simulation would involve the boarding of an enemy warship. Using haptic VR, we’d be put in a simulated mission to disable an enemy warship’s shields. Ceel assured us that the difficulty would be low, as we weren’t even close to being fully trained. It was just to gauge where we were at, as a base line.
As soon as I heard that there would be a boarding simulation, my tail started swishing in excitement. It sounded really fun. And all of us would be linked together. It was like playing a multiplayer game. Or like what my usual work entailed, but none of the risk of dying.
A few technicians walked into the simulation room and started setting up the fighter sims. Ceel started explaining the fighter sims further while they were getting ready.
“Alright, those of you who know how to fly are going to do these sims. If you don’t know how to pilot a ship already, don’t bother trying. I’m not here to explain how flying a fighter works. When the simulation boots up, it’ll do a quick tutorial to familiarize you with the fighter’s controls. It’s like driving a car you’ve never been in. Takes a little bit to get used to.”
I definitely fit the requirements of knowing how to fly, but Noah was a bit iffy. He didn’t actually have a license, like me. But I didn’t think Ceel was checking, and I did teach Noah how to fly, at least.
I nudged Noah in the ribs. “Hey, are you going to do the fighter sim? I did teach you how to fly, but I don’t know how confident you are.”
He looked back at me. “Are you serious? I’m not going to pass up a chance to use a fighter simulator! I might never be able to do something like this again!” He spoke in a hushed tone.
I crossed my arms. “Alright, but you still remember what I taught you, right? It’s been a while since you flew my ship.”
Noah waved his hand dismissively. “Of course. The tutorial would brush up my knowledge anyways.”
Ceel had wrapped up her explanation and was now talking to the technicians. They appeared to be almost ready. She finished her conversation and addressed the recruits once more.
“Alright, the simulations are ready. Everyone who’s going to be doing the sims, find a cockpit and stand next to it. These aren’t VR, or anything. Each window panel is just a screen. You’ll find standard ship controls, the throttle and stick, along with a seat. Standard ship stuff. You’ll take a seat, close the door, and wait for the technicians to boot the sim up. Simple. Okay, go ahead.”
The crowd rustled as a fair amount of people stepped forward to find a cockpit, Noah and I included. Maralu had a pretty big population of pilots, since its main thing was trade. It made sense that there were pilots that lost their ships and decided to try their hand in the military instead.
Noah and I took cockpits that were next to each other, of course. The outside of the cockpit was bland. It was simply shaped like an egg. Inside of the cockpit was something more familiar. It had several screen panels in front, above, and to the sides of the seat to simulate the canopy of a fighter ship. The throttle and stick were standard, and looked easy to use. It was a simpler version of the one that was on my ship, since this one was designed for two hands (the most common number of hands in the galaxy).
I shut the door and sat down in the pilot seat. It was slightly uncomfortable because it wedged my back arms between the seat and my back. I laid my hands on the throttle and stick and jerked them around a few times. The screens in the sim stayed black.
After a few minutes, the cockpit whirred and the screens turned on. Fake glittering stars hung in the pitch black void. A familiar looking warship hung in the foreground. After a few moments, the tutorial started. It was simple stuff, reviewing pitch, yaw, roll, thrust, weapons, the basics. I absentmindedly did the tutorial, all of it was second nature to me. Damn. I missed my ship.
Five minutes later, the tutorial concluded. The screens flickered, then turned back on. The same stars winked back at me, and the same warship was here. However, dozens of other fighter ships surrounded me, at all angles and distances.
Ceel’s voice boomed through a speaker directly above my head, making me flinch.
“You should see other fighter ships around you. That’s everyone else in a mock cockpit. This simulation is linked, meaning you’ll be training with your other potential pilots. We’re starting soon. The simulation is simple. A Haivu warship will warp in, and an equal number of Haivu fighters will attack you. There will be no transport ships here, we’re keeping the game simple. Your goal is to destroy all of the Haivu fighters. Good luck.” Ceel cut the comms.
A few moments later, the scenario started. A Haivu warship ripped through space-time and appeared several kilometers away from where we were gathered. Curvy, organically shaped fighter ships started pouring out of the Haivu warship. The simulation had begun.
All of the GU fighters moved immediately, charging towards the opposing force. I couldn’t tell the fighters apart, which meant that I couldn’t find Noah. Coordination was out of the window, I guess. There was one Haivu fighter for one GU fighter, so theoretically each person just had to beat one.
Our cloud of fighters began engaging in dogfights with the Haivu ships. I immediately saw a GU fighter take a caustic missile to the cockpit and melt away.
Each person now had to beat just a little over one. This was going to be tough. GU fighters were pretty good, but the Haivu were still technologically formidable. I wasn’t a trained fighter pilot or anything, so I was going to have a rough time.
I spotted a GU fighter already on the tail of a Haivu fighter, so I decided to fly over and help. I probably wasn’t good enough to take out one by myself, so if we outnumbered fighters in dogfights we would have a better fighting chance.
The Haivu fighter bobbed and weaved, turned and flipped, but me and my fellow GU fighter managed to chase it down and trap it in an undodgeable situation. Missiles from both sides corralled the Haivu fighter into our line of laser fire.
I moved on to help the closest fighter being chased by Haivu. This fighter ship was a lot zippier than my Leviathan. Equipped with top of the line heat seeking missiles, intense beam cannons, and a shield disruptor, it was superior in combat compared to my old ship.
The simulation went on. We were losing ships at a faster pace than the Haivu were. It made sense, though. Everyone doing the simulation wasn’t a trained military pilot. We were putting up a good fight, though. It was therapeutic to see simulated Haivu fighters blowing up, when we witnessed these same fighters tearing up Maralu just a few days ago.
As more time passed, we became more and more outnumbered. My fighter started accumulating more damage, and eventually, I was being tailed by three fighters at once, which was far too many for a pilot of my skill. My fighter was blown up in a cerulean ball of flame, and my screen went dark. I sighed, and opened the door and left the mock cockpit. Outside, Noah was waiting for me.
“They got you, huh.” Noah said.
I shook my head. “I thought this was supposed to be the easy version of the simulation. Those Haivu fighters are tough!”
“Yeah, I managed to hold my own for a while but eventually they just outnumbered and outpowered us.” Noah replied. “I did pretty good for a beginner, though.”
“When did you get blown up?” I asked.
“Just a few minutes before you. They swarmed me.”
“Same here.”
Ten more minutes passed, and disgruntled recruits trickled out of their cockpits. According to Ceel, there were still a few recruits in the sim holding out, but eventually they, too, were destroyed, and left their cockpits. The last three to emerge was a lanky Maneri woman, and two very shiny Aeons.
Ceel clapped. “Very good. The last twelve survivors, come talk to me later. I think with some proper training you’ll make some fine pilots.”
Noah and I weren’t the last twelve, so it didn’t concern us. I wasn’t surprised. I wasn’t exactly the best pilot around, and Noah was still new.
Ceel addressed the recruits once more. “Alright, pilot sims are done. Follow me, it’s time for the boarding sim.”
I was going to do better here, though.