In thirty years of serving in The Corps, I encountered exactly two Telkan who believed in and prayed to the Warfather.
Now, I give him thanks every time I put on my armor, call out to him for aid during combat, and give him thanks again when the armor comes off.
It's amazing what seeing a few million Mar-gite charging your line will do to your beliefs. - Gunnery Sergeant Zolpad, Gray Lady Marine Expeditionary Force, Third Mar-Gite War Year Zero.
The gym, if you could call the massive interior bay that, was full of Terrans, with a few Rigellian females and a handful of Tukna'rn scattered around. Jaskel stopped only two paces into the cavernous gym, looking around himself and staring.
In a dozen rings Terrans fought one another at lightning speed, the blows coming hard and fast, both combatants still fighting despite taking heavy hits. Scores of areas had Terrans working out with free weights. More had Terrans working out on machines. A line of treadmills that had to number at least a hundred has Terrans running smoothly on inclined belts. Lines of Terrans sprinted a hundred meters, turned, and sprinted back as fast as they could. Whole companies of Terrans jogged in long rectangles, perfectly in time, calling out cadence.
Everywhere he looked, Terrans were exercising, working out, or relaxing in between sets.
The whole thing was nothing but Terrans engaged in hard physical exercise.
"That's a hell of a thing," Captain Nakwel said quietly, looking around.
A Terran was jogging toward them, wearing the same exercise uniform as every other Terran in the gym.
"Let me do the talking, sir," Gunny Zalpod said.
The Captain just nodded.
"You're Telkan Marines, right?" the Terran asked, coming to a stop. He was tall, over twice as tall as Jaskel, who was tall for a Telkan. He was nothing but thick muscle and heavy bone, with reddish-brown hair cut close to his scalp on his head and fierce looking green eyes.
"Sure are," Gunny Zalpod said. He held out his hand. "Gunnery Sergeant Zalpod, part of the Gray Lady's Telkan Marine Expeditionary Force."
"Colonel John Jane Tenfingers Ranadheer, TerraSol Marine Corps," the Terran said. He turned and waved at the gym. "The Gray Lady has plenty of workout space. We only have it every other day, the aerospace mechanics use it to train on refitting, repairing, and rearming the aerospace strikers on the off days. We use Gym-19 on our off days according to the training schedule."
The Gunny nodded. "Is this all the Terran ground combat troops?"
The Colonel laughed. "Not even. This is just the five thousand and change of Sixth Regiment, and there's seven Regiments in the Division, five divisions for II Corps," he waved his hand to encompass the gym. "That's without getting into the almost million dog faces in the Army aboard this old dame."
Jaskel blinked several times at the numbers.
"That's without getting into the aerospace guys, the wet-navy guys, or the million and change Space Force that run this whole thing," the Colonel said. He waved the Telkan forward. "Since you've got an entire Division of Telkan aboard," he started saying.
"Severely understrength," Gunny Zalpod said. "At about half."
"You guys can't print up more? It's been like forty-kay years. You didn't crack it?" the Colonel asked.
"No. It was pretty much considered a myth," Gunny said. He laughed. "Till about two months ago, Terrans were considered a myth and legend, lost to time."
"Ain't that a bitch," The Colonel said. He gave a sudden grin. "Well, we're back now, and we'll make that everyone's problem soon enough."
The Colonel led the small group of Telkan Marines through the gym, introducing them to combat arms officers, senior NCOs, explaining the exercises.
After a while, Gunny Zolpad and Captain Nakwel told everyone they could look around.
Jaskel noted that the big thing was 'reflex burn in' and 'printer to sprinter' to take everything laid in by the bioprinter/cloning bank and the SUDS template impression and ensure everything was working properly.
He talked to power armor jocks like him and found that most of them had experience against the Mar-gite from the First Mar-gite War.
The biggest thing he noted is that they didn't discount what he had seen, just asked questions that clarified the Mar-gite tactics, how large the clusters were, and inevitably focused on the silver liquid-appearing ships that came in after a few Petra-Constructs came in.
He was watching several power armor jocks putting metallic discs with red lights on their bodies. Back of the hand, forearm front and back, biceps front and back, legs front and back, chest, and having someone put it on their back.
They activated them and there was a slight shimmering.
"Step back," a Captain said, pointing next to him.
Jaskel moved back to stand next to the Terran Captain. Even with the phasic suppressor he wore around his head like a headband, it felt like heat was radiating off the Captain and made his teeth feel like they were covered with electric glitter.
The Terrans wearing the pads began moving in synch.
Jaskel recognized it after a moment as basic power armor movement.
"What's the disks?" Jaskel asked.
"Armor's changed since we last trained. The disks use close in forcefield tech to simulate the armor, the one on the pilot jack simulates the suit's functions," the Captain said. "We're reburning new reflexes."
"Huh. Does it work?" he asked.
The Captain nodded. "Really well. Not as good as actually using the armor, but better than eVR because your body is actually moving. Plus, it gives the techs and mechanics good baselines for the armor."
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
The Captain sighed and ran his hand through his close cropped kinky black hair. "Wish we had greenies. None of them made it."
Jaskel nodded. "I've pretty much got the only Greenie in the battalion."
"Little guys are an amazing force multiplier. I'd rather have a greenie than an eVI any day of the week," the Captain said. He bent down, reached into a box, and pulled out one of the disks. "Wanna give it a try?"
"Will it work for Telkan?" Jaskel asked.
The Terran nodded. "Telkan were probationary members of the Confederacy when we jumped from TerraSol. We were supposed to take on some Telkan Marines before everything went charlie foxtrot on us."
Jaskel thought about it for a minute. "Sure, I'll give it a try."
"Just hold it in your hand, let it access your palm mounted data/smartlink," the Captain said. "Might take a minute to synch up with maintenance for your armor's specs."
Jasked took the disk and held it in his hand. He could tell by the tingling along his arm that his smartwire was moving a lot of data.
"Might take a minute. You have modern armor," the Captain said. "You know, once you're fully synched up, you can run the CQC course with us," he looked around. "You know, I'll have to get with the Colonel, maybe the General, about working some of you guys in with us."
Jaskel just nodded.
"Kind of funny, you know," the Captain said. "We were on this ship and twenty-three just like it, all heading for Lanky Space to kick their ass off of them for what they did in the Harmonous Cluster. Now, we've got Lanky in the TO&E."
"The Lanky can be good fighters. Very doctrine focused. Not as bad as the Tukna'rn, but more than us Telkan," Jaskel said.
"Every species has their strengths," The Captain said.
Jaskel watched as two Terrans squared off and began fighting hand to hand, their movements like they were in full power armor. Fists, forearms, shins, and feet smashed against the pads they were both wearing.
The disk beeped.
"Your ready," he said. "Hand it here, I'll put it on your jack."
Jaskel handed it over and turned around. He felt it click against his pilot's cyberjack, then felt the plug lock into the socket with a slight whir. The Captain kept tapping a disk against the one on the back of Jaskel's neck and then putting them in place.
A red square came to life on the floor, like a nearly transparent crimson overlay. It had a white border that shone brightly.
Another Terran helped him put on a padded helmet and a set of protective pads. When they were locked in, the Terran patted the top of Jaskel's head and moved away.
"OK, you're ready. Do you see a red square on the floor?" the Captain asked.
"Yes, sir," Jaskel said.
"Go stand in it," the Captain said. He turned his left palm up and a holokeyboard popped up. "I'll help you run through the basics."
Jasked stepped into the square. There was a slight buzz and he suddenly could see his armor on his limbs, taste the recycled air, and his HUD went live like he was in his armor.
"All right, trigger a function check. Tell me if there's anything wrong," the Captain said.
The function check went smoothly, even for the weapons.
"Lets do some basic warmups," the Captain said. "Show me your normal warmup routine, I'll check it against your armor and we'll synch it up to your armor even better."
Jaskel did as he was instructed, going through the basic function check movements, then to walking in the square, moving as he was told. As we moved, the feeling of being in his suit matched up with the experience more and more.
Finally, the Captain called a break and Jaskel came over, panting and sweating. The Captain seemed to be standing in the middle of a crater blasted moonscape.
"All right. Basic suit is loaded. We've got your suit's idiosyncrasies loaded up," he tapped his arm and the HUD view vanished. The Captain was standing there with 8814 down by his foot. 8814 was wearing a headset with a visor.
"Your battle buddy is synched in. I'm going to bring up some hard light, let you practice," the Captain said. He smiled. "I've always enjoyed this. I loved being the battalion training officer back in the day."
Jaskel just nodded, still breathing heavy.
"Plus, we'll load your suit up with some autonomous movement sequences developed for species that can't do unconscious movement easily. Telkan bio-profiles says you're capable of it, but have to have it trained or pushed through experience," the Captain said.
8814 and Jaskel both nodded.
"Train to fight," the Captain smiled. He held out a squeeze bottle with a plastic straw. "Have some electrolyte squirt and we'll get back into it as soon as your battle buddy says green."
Jaskel just panted, nodding.
-----
Captain Nakwel had found himself on one of the training ranges inside the huge bulk of the Gray Lady, watching the Terrans work.
He turned to the Major next to him. "Why aren't they in power armor?"
The Major turned his chair to face Nakwel. "What?"
"Why aren't your men training for power armor. Mag-gite seem to require power armor," Captain Nakwel said.
The Major shook his head. "Armor plating, minimum EM profile. We figured out that even your weaponry needs to be EM shielded as best as possible. Its why TerraSol went to chemical propellant weapons during that war."
Nakwel frowned. "Won't they see the plate armored and go for them?"
The Major pushed himself back. "Captain, take over."
The Captain next to him nodded, tapping at the keyboard.
The Major stood up. "They don't see like we do," he said.
Nakwel nodded. "Well, no. They've got those five eyes on the ends of their arms."
"Not eyeballs," the Major said. He waved Nakwel over to the holotank. "They don't see like you think. They don't see visible light."
Nakwel frowned. "They don't?"
"Those nodules aren't eyes. They're electromagnetic sensors," the Major said. He tapped the holotank and a Mar-gite appeared. "They see in the electromagnetic spectrum. They can see us talking, literally. We don't think they hear like we do either."
"What about the screeching?" Nakwel asked.
"That's always been a thing, but..." the Major tapped the keys. "Its a broad spectrum atonal signal across multiple frequencies, some of which happen to be in audible range for most species," The Major brought up the frequency chart. "We think it's biological jamming. About all they can't jam is our quantum and spooky particle channels. Even the quantum can get jammed if there's enough of them, but the paired quark still works."
"Oh," Nakwel said.
"I spent over a hundred years fighting the Mar-gite," the Major said. He held up one hand. "I'm not saying you don't know what you're talking about, or that you're stupid. I'm saying you know pretty much what I knew at the beginning of the war."
Nakwel nodded curtly. "So, why just hard plate."
The Major tapped a few controls and the holotank showed a skirmish line. Emplaced guns, warmeks, power armor, hardshell troops, even some troops in basic uniforms. There were armored vehicles mixed in.
"This is what we see," The Major siad.
"Right. The Mar-gite target the warmeks and vehicles, then the emplaced guns and the power armor. They twist a lot when you get ready to shoot at them," Nakwel said. "They can see us and predict where we're aiming."
"Not exactly," the Major said. He tapped a few more keys and the whole thing turned into overlapping shifting and moving colors and streaks. "This is the EM sensitive view."
The meks and vehicles burned brightly. Beams lanced out, sweeping around Nakwel's side of the holotank. The power armor and emplaced weapons burned, but not as bright as the warmeks. He could see huge blooms of fire and large sweeps of bright light.
"That's how the Mar-gite see things. They aren't attacking power armor and warmeks, they're after the highest EM signatures," he tapped some more keys and there were suddenly holes shaped like warmeks and vehicles. "That's when they run under EMCON. The Mar-gite know that holes in the EM field don't appear in nature, so they all rush them."
Nakwel suddenly understood.
"They're going for what they can see the brightest. The largest predators. They can see us ranging them and move to avoid it because they can see our targeting systems," he said. "So why go after people?"
The image rippled again. Shapes were highlighted. "Pheromones. A primary sign of life."
Nakwel stared at the holotank for a long moment.
"They don't even need to really think, do they?" he asked.
The Major shook his head. "You'd need very little dedicated neural systems. It would be about as smart as a warhead penaid."
"That's why they just keep coming, isn't it?" Nakwel asked.
The Major nodded. "As far as we know, they have no sense of self, no fear of death," he wiped the holotank clean.
"By the end of the war, we'd come to the conclusion that they are just a weapon," the Major said. "But this war brought in additional data and now we have a suspect for who is fielding them."
He brought up an image of the liquid chrome appearing pumpkin seed shaped ship.
"These guys."