“Take that hill!”

Mad’s voice barked from somewhere in the metal canyons of the vault world. Tanlon and Snell stuck to one another and continued advancing on their objective, yet the third member of their fire team had gone astray.

The freaking new guy.

“Ernest! What are you doing, get back here!” Tanlon shouted.

One of Tanlon’s troopers was going way off the path they were supposed to go and though he had started their assault next to Tanlon and Snell, a small deviation from the beginning had brought him twenty feet away from them. The young One was too focused on going forward to hear his fire team leader, but he stopped when two black figures popped over a piece of debris and opened fire.

“Bang, bang, bang!”

Ernest crumpled to the ground like a bag of feathers and rocks. Snell groaned and Tanlon ordered, “Ernest is dead, push on that enemy position! Cover me!”

Snell aimed at the men who dropped Ernest and fired.

“Bang, bang, bang!”

“Advancing!” Tanlon yelled. Somewhere out of view still, Mad yelled something back, something about regrouping, but Tanlon could not do that very well with two hostiles bearing down on them.

“I’m down and covering!” Tanlon hollered and started firing at their still-entrenched enemy. Snell replied that he was advancing now and between their leapfrog advances, Snell and Tanlon had made it to the enemy position. Pressed in together and only a few feet from their enemy, Tanlon and Snell leaped over the debris and opened fire on the black armored stormtroopers who killed Ernest.

“Bang, bang, bang!”

Both the stormtroopers lay down on the ground and died, but Tanlon and Snell kept their rifles up and fanned out.

“Enemy position cleared!” Tanlon shouted.

“That’s nice and all kid, but the rest of your squad is dead. End simulation. Everyone form up.”

Another stormtrooper, this one in his fatigues came from a nearby building. He was writing something down on his noteboard and not bothering to look at them.

“Where’s the squad leader?”

The rest of the squad finally arrived and the Mad jogged up to the officer. “Here, sir.”

The instructor crossed his arms and looked down his nose at Mad from where he was standing on a piece of rubble. “What did you do wrong?”

“Tanlon’s team didn’t cover our flank like they was supposed to.”

The instructor’s impassive gaze broke and he growled, “No. Ears open. What did YOU do wrong?”

“I don’t know.”

“What you had, was a failure of communication. In the middle of battle if you don’t know where the rest of your squad is at, then you’re going to get men killed!”

While the instructor chewed Mad out, Tanlon could not help but think about the irony of what he was hearing. If they cared so much about the lives of the troopers, why did they throw them into meat grinders on every jump? Supposedly the reorganization of Lord Commissar Schultz’s legion was to “maximize unit cohesion and effectiveness” but as far as Tanlon knew, this was just basic force organization they taught ten-year-old academy freshmen. Snell’s nudge brought Tanlon out of his rumination as the instructor and his training cadre walked away. Mad spun around and stalked toward Tanlon.

“Why the void did you not regroup when I gave the order?!”

Snell replied, “It was the new,” but his incrimination of Ernst was cut off by Tanlon.

“It’s my fault. I didn’t keep my fire team coordinated.”

Taking the blame deflated some of the steam out of Mad and he bit back his anger with a chagrined look. “Well, sure. I guess I needed to coordinate better too.”

Snell wrapped his arms around both their shoulders, an ability Tanlon and Mad lacked with their shorter arm length, and said, “Isn’t that better? We’re all getting along. What was the final score anyway Mad?”

“71.”

Snell smacked Mad on the back and earned a hard glare from his best friend. “You passed! You get to stay our squad leader!”

“Tch,” Mad kicked a small rock and replied, “Yeah, but just barely. Only thing I gots going was my landnav and obstacle course scores. I’d bet ya I got the lowest passing score in the whole legion.”

“Well, you know what they call the lowest-ranking squad leader don’t you?” Tanlon asked the age-old adage.

Mad must have either never heard or more likely forgotten it with his love of fists and not words. “What?”

Snell stood to attention and made the most crisp salute he could, “Sir!”

Tanlon joined in the salute, as did the other seven Ones who had been assigned to Mad. Their squad leader looked like he was either going to punch them or cry, but he stuffed it down and said, “Er, knock it off you gitz.”

Tanlon knew his friend was touched by his tone and suggested, “Why don’t we go grab some chow and prepare for tomorrow? I know Tamil will probably want an inspection before we leave planet side.”

“Ergh, Tamil can inspect my left foot for trench rot, but chow’s not a bad idea. Come on boys, Tan’s buying!”

Though there was nothing to buy at the communal cafeteria, this elicited a cheer from the rambunctious Ones and they hastened to follow after Mad toward the cafeteria. Only Snell and Ernst stayed behind at the leisurely pace Tanlon set. They had been doing nothing but running around, waiting around, carrying cargo, and training for a year, so it was nice to be able to take his time and just walk for a change.

Ernst tapped Tanlon’s shoulder and said, “Thanks for not throwing me under the bus, sir.”

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“Wouldn’t be much of a leader if I did, Ernst. Oh and call me Tanlon. That sir stuff is for squad leaders and above.”

“Yeah, better be sure to call Mad 'sir' from now on or he’ll knock your block,” Snell teased, but Ernst didn’t seem to hear him.

“What’s on your mind,” Tanlon asked.

“Well, between you and Mr. Snell, how come neither of you are squad leader?”

“What, don’t like Mad?”

“No, no, he’s great!” Ernest’s voice lowered. “He’s just intense.”

“Eh, he’s my best bud, wouldn’t trade him for a million cents, kid, but I see what you mean.” Tanlon frowned when Snell called Ernst kid since it was a bit weird that he would call someone a kid when they were only a few months younger than them. Maybe he thought the same way about the new batch of Ones they emergency unthawed to defend the vault world. Sure they had to fight the Harvesters, but that pincer attack lasted an hour at best. Most of them, Ernst included, had barely put their boots on and grabbed a rifle before it was over. They hadn’t experienced Paradise.

Was that bad though?

Tanlon and his friends had changed after that single jump, though it had been credited to them as five. Mad was a little more tense, quicker to bite, Snell drank whenever he could and laughed a bit too much, and Haylock, well Tanlon did not know if that guy was even still alive. As for Tanlon, he jumped whenever he heard a loud noise. The red eyes of Screamers bore into his mind whenever he closed his own, so he asked himself again, was it so bad that Ernst had his youthful innocence intact?

In peacetime, no, a quiet mind was not a bad thing at all, but in the wars to come, they had to be hardened. The thing was, Tanlon couldn’t just throw Ernst and the others in a pit of Yabanchi and hope they toughen up. No, they had to pour in sweat equity with hours of training and drills. The more sweat in peace, the less they’d bleed in battle.

“Mad can be a hard hat, but he’s direct and to the point. Aggressive, assertive, and decisive. In a battle, that’s the kind of guy you want making quick calls. He may not be the friendliest guy, but it may save your life,” Tanlon said.

”But still, why aren’t you two squad leaders too?”

Tanlon shut his mouth and let Snell reply.

“Well, I declined to even apply since I wanted to write poetry, not babysit, and Tanlon was disqualified because he has a hard time peeing in front of others.”

Maybe letting Snell reply was a bad idea.

“Hey, no, that’s not it,” Tanlon’s face heated up and he was glad they wore the gas masks during training for once. He knew Snell was just trying to cover up for the real reason he wasn’t a squad leader, but he could have chosen a better excuse!

“I mean, it’s ok, sir. I won’t tell anyone.”

Snell was almost doubling over and trying to hold in his laughter while Tanlon slugged him repeatedly in the arm. After he bruised his skinny friend, Tanlon replied, “No, I can urinate just fine.” He really didn’t want to tell the One, but he let out his pride with a sigh. “I applied. They rejected me, that’s it.”

“Did they tell you why?”

“Nope. Just that the ‘needs of the Corps’ don’t require my service in that position.”

“Oh.”

The three of them continued trudging along toward the cafeteria, but the awkward silence got to Ernst as he asked another question, “Why does Mad hate the company commander so much?”

“Eh, hate’s a strong word. More like despises and it’s because Tamil flaked out on us in the middle of a jump. Probably burns him up that our old Wave Leader got a promotion.” Snell flared his hands and shrugged.

“Woah, so you’re talking about Paradise right?”

“How do you know about Paradise?” Tanlon asked.

“Well, it’s not like I keep my ears closed. I’ve heard you guys talking about it before. Sounded like a heck of a jump.”

“Spying on us, neh? Maybe we should flog you for that,” Snell cracked his knuckles, but Ernst didn’t take him seriously.

“Begging your pardon sirs, but even if I didn’t hear it from you’s I’d have heard from the other Midders in the rest of the regiment. It’s all they talk about, most of ‘em.”

Tanlon grinned at the thought of being considered a ‘Midder’ after only two jumps, so he dug more into the One’s scuttlebutt, “What else do they jaw about?”

“Possessed Eidolons, Screamers, and some guy named Haylock.”

That name wiped the grin off Tanlon’s face and Snell likewise stopped his snickering. Ernst was clued in enough to know he hit a sensitive topic but was still dense from youth.

“You know him, sir?”

“Used to,” Tanlon left his answer at that, but he had questions of his own about his friend. For all he knew, he died in the Harvester attack, but deep in his gut, he knew that was not true.

Where are you, Haylock?

----------------------------------------

“Karahata, focus!”

Haylock’s mind snapped back to reality and he cycled his mana with controller techniques he had been practicing for months. He was not a moment too soon, as his master's first attack came immediately in icy fingers that probed at his guts. Holding in some of the fiery energy inside himself, Haylock dispelled the cold and returned his body to normothermic temperatures. Yet there was no time to celebrate, for a sphere of water materialized around his head and cut him off from the outside air.

Fear urged him to panic and take in a breath, but Haylock suppressed these feelings and did the opposite as he expelled the last bit of air in his lungs. Focusing this air and his mana, he created a small tunnel between his mouth and the outside world. With a few controlled breaths, he readied himself for what he knew would be the final strike.

Though his vision was still obfuscated by water, Haylock smelled ozone in the air and felt his hair stand on end. A deeper, primal instinct told him to dodge this time and he almost very well did, but months of training overrode his sense of peril and he stood his ground. If he did otherwise, then he would have surely died.

The crack came before the strike and a bright light flared in Haylock’s vision. His teacher had fired a bolt of lightning straight at Haylock’s heart and if it did not immediately burn his insides, then it would have at least stopped his cardiac rhythm.

“You have the only timer you need. Listen to your heart, Karahata.”

His teacher’s past advice came back to him now in this moment of peril. Haylock had struggled for weeks with timing his breathing right and he’d finally been told that he could have just used his heart. It was easier said than done, Haylock said so himself, but the Master had Haylock do sprints until he vomited.

As the blood was pounding in Haylock’s ears from so much exercise, his master had dryly joked, “Do you hear it now?”

He heard it then as easily as he did now in this hour of testing, though it no longer required intense sprints, but the calming of his mind. When the lightning struck, Haylock’s heart trembled and he almost lost the sound of its voice, but he grasped it again before he faded away and forced it back to the rhythm of his internal drums. That was the hard part, redirecting the excess electric mana was easy as it had a mind of its own. It sought to flow down, so Haylock let it, opening a path down his mana channels and to his feet. It slammed into the ground and dispersed, yet Haylock still stood and squared up, ready for another.

The water around Haylock’s head collapsed and drenched his body, but he could hear now. “That’s enough, Karahata. I yet remain unimpressed by your talent, but your perseverance in training has borne fruit. I believe you are ready to start training for the first threshold.”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing this whole time?!”

The old man, for Haylock, was convinced that his always armored teacher was old by his stiff gait, walked up to his pupil, and shook his head like he was talking to a child.

“No, you’ve been learning how to walk. Practicing the most basic of mana foundation techniques, without which even attempting the first threshold would be impossible.”

“You told me yourself, the fleet is jumping soon. I don’t have another year to just sit around and breathe!”

“Was all that breathing really so worthless when it saved your life from my attacks?”

“No Master, forgive me, I only meant that I desire to help my brothers now and not later.”

“No, no, Karahata. You meant something else, but let me tell you, if you had not executed any one of those techniques right, then you would not be having this conversation with me right now.”

In other words, he’d be dead. The fact that he knew his Master was neither joking nor exaggerating shook Haylock’s core more than any finger of cold ever could.

“Well, you survived nevertheless and I think you’ll be happy to know that if everything goes as planned, then you’ll be at the first threshold by the end of the hour.”

“Master, that’s great news!” Haylock’s smile slipped off. “But what if it does not go as planned?”

“You’ll be dead and I’ll be forced to find another pupil.”

“Ah.”

Haylock’s master grabbed him by the shoulder and led him toward the jump portal. “Worry not Karahata, I have faith in my training. You will probably survive this next step on the path to freedom.”

“And what will that be, Master?”

“We’re going to expose you to the Void.”