"Faster-than-light flight has ended. Welcome, warriors of the Empire, to the Chang Geng star system—Feng Rui Star. Feng Rui Star is a level 4 life-bearing planet. It has many terrains, dangerous animals, and harsh environments. It is not good for human settlement. But, it is the Empire’s new recruit training ground. The ship will arrive in 10 minutes," the attractive female sergeant said. Her gray uniform made her figure stand out.
"Beautiful lady, can I know your name?"
"Ha, now I believe in love."
"I need to take this ship more often."
...
Many bold male recruits laughed and teased her.
"Such shameful behavior."
"She’s not even that pretty."
"Maybe she had plastic surgery?"
The female recruits whispered among themselves. They weren’t impressed with the sergeant.
"Xiao Yi, you should try to pursue this beauty. You’re the most handsome among us three. Don’t embarrass Rift Valley 7583 High School," Jackson joked to Xiao Yi to build a closer relationship.
"Heh, why don’t you pursue her? You’re not bad either," Xiao Yi replied.
"He doesn’t need to. He already has Trelia," Li Feng teased Jackson. Then he added, "What do you think? I’m stuck as an Interstellar Paratrooper, but I could marry this beauty and bring her home to make up for it!"
Jackson and Xiao Yi exchanged glances and said in unison, "Bro, just go to sleep."
The T996-11 commuter ship shook as it entered Feng Rui Star’s atmosphere. Jackson saw the friction between the ship and the air create high temperatures. The ship was covered by a blue shield that kept the heat away.
"That’s the ship’s protective shield," Jackson thought.
The ship landed at a spaceport. The recruits got off the ship. The female sergeant stood at the exit, smiling and seeing them off.
As Jackson walked past, he asked, "Beautiful sergeant, can I know your name?"
The sergeant was surprised. She was used to recruits teasing her, but no one had asked her name so directly. Seeing Jackson’s sincere face and good looks, she smiled and said, "I’m Sergeant Gong Feina, the ship’s science officer."
"Sergeant Gong, this new recruit, Li Feng, likes you. I’m asking for him," Jackson said, pointing at Li Feng.
Li Feng’s face turned red. "Don’t accuse me! You’re the one who likes her!" He quickly walked off the ship.
"Tch, you’re not a good bro. I asked for you, and now you’re embarrassed," Jackson teased Li Feng.
The recruits laughed as they left the ship.
Gong Feina shrugged, not taking it seriously. She had only answered Jackson out of politeness. She thought back to how Li Feng and another recruit had complained to each other earlier. It had been amusing.
"Mm, in a year, I’ll retire. I wonder if I’ll meet these two interesting recruits again," Gong Feina thought as she returned to the ship and closed the door.
Soon, the T996-11 commuter ship took off again, carrying the next batch of recruits.
The 996 New Recruit Training Camp was just a general term. It had many sub-bases. No one knew exactly how many were on Feng Rui Star. This was military confidential information. The 11th Regiment was just one of them.
The recruits entered a large building of over 10,000 square meters. The words "Interstellar Paratrooper 11th Regiment" were engraved above the entrance.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Looking at the recruits forming a disorganized line, Major Miles Mark shook his head. He shouted, "I am Major Miles Clon, the commander of the Interstellar Paratrooper 11th Regiment. Starting today, you are soldiers of the Kabas Empire." He paused and then said more forcefully, "However, you are not soldiers yet. I can even call you ‘women.’ Over the next six months, my base will turn you from women into iron soldiers…"
Jackson, standing in the formation, recognized the major as the same one who had stopped the argument on the T996-11 commuter ship.
Major Miles Mark’s speech was short but impactful. It quickly ended.
The recruits were assigned barracks by squad. They received supplies and began organizing their rooms.
In a large barrack, over 100 recruits sorted their things. Jackson placed his toiletries, two sets of uniforms, boots, a ring-shaped mini communicator, and other clothes in his locker.
Li Feng complained, “How stingy. What era is this? Still using such a big barrack? More than 100 people in one room with no privacy. Before joining, I researched online, and warship pilots get their own rooms.”
Jackson smiled but didn’t respond to Li Feng. He looked at the small mirror. His once thick black hair was now cut into a buzz cut. He felt more energetic, looking more like a soldier.
The Interstellar Paratroopers had strict rules—they had to keep a buzz cut. One guy, who had an artistic side, refused to cut his hair. His superior made him run laps as punishment.
Xiao Yi nudged Jackson and gestured with his eyes. “Look, there will definitely be some drama soon.”
Jackson realized the guy who had made the comment about exiling all the Panhua from the Empire was also assigned to their squad.
“Forget him. We three should stick together and work hard. Maybe we can make a name for ourselves in the army,” Jackson said indifferently.
The guy was called Bo’er. He was a typical racist, looking down on all non-Kabas people. Jackson didn’t care much about Bo’er. He didn’t feel connected to the Panhua, and on Earth, his people had always been the dominant group. No one had ever dared to discriminate against them.
“You don’t hate him?” Xiao Yi asked.
Jackson was about to answer no but quickly changed his mind. “Of course, I hate that bastard. He’s so arrogant. But remember, this is the army. As long as we have the skills, it’s all about personal ability here.”
Xiao Yi looked at Jackson for a moment, then silently thought to himself, “He’s clear-headed and goal-oriented. Li Feng, on the other hand, is more impulsive.”
The room was large. In the center was a hallway. On either side were the beds of the 7th Squad’s recruits. A row of chandeliers hung above, casting a warm orange light.
The recruits chatted in small groups, getting to know each other. The Panhua and Kabas kept to their own groups.
Jackson’s neighbor was a chubby guy who always had a strange smile on his face. His movements were slow. His bed wasn’t made properly. Jackson couldn’t stand it and helped him.
“Thanks,” the chubby guy said gratefully.
His name was Keen, a Kabas. He had always been a bit slower than others.
Lying on his bed for a moment, Jackson thought, “If it weren’t for the flight from space, this 7th Squad barracks would look like any regular military camp on Earth.”
The Interstellar Paratroopers truly lived up to their reputation as the Empire’s lowest-ranking branch. The facilities didn’t seem to match the advanced technology of the interstellar era.
Jackson didn’t know that the Interstellar Paratroopers often carried out reconnaissance, infiltrating enemy territory, and even assassination missions. They needed to survive without the help of advanced technology. That’s why the training focused on self-reliance and physical strength.
"This is disgusting. It tastes like leftover slop," Jackson complained about his dinner in the mess hall.
"Ha, look at the packaging. Yours is synthetic food. That’s the taste. It’s not great, but the nutritional value is top-notch," Keen explained with a silly grin.
Jackson checked the label, and sure enough, it said "Synthetic" on it.
At mealtime, recruits used their soldier ID tags to get their food from the supply machine. Jackson could only complain, "Such bad luck."
The next day, all 3,500 new recruits of the 11th Regiment were in place, and training officially began.
In the 7th Squad barracks, the recruits had just finished organizing their rooms when a lieutenant with two sergeants entered.
The recruits quickly stood in military posture, legs straight, back erect, arms down, and waited for the three officers.
The lieutenant walked back and forth, his uniform neat and pressed, his steps strong and steady. After a moment, he spoke, "I am Lieutenant Hoffman, your senior instructor. From today, unless I speak first, you are not allowed to speak. When addressing me, you must always say ‘Sir’ at the beginning and end." He paused before shouting, "Do you understand, maggots?"
His last words were shouted so loudly that they echoed. The recruits, startled, answered in unison, "Sir, yes, Sir!"
Hoffman, still dissatisfied, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted louder, "What? You’re all newborn babies? I can’t hear you!"
"Sir, yes, Sir!" The recruits replied, this time louder and more unified.
Jackson thought, "This instructor is tough."
Hoffman seemed satisfied with their response but didn’t ease up. "After your training, only the ‘survivors’ will leave my 11th Regiment. You will become weapons. You will become the gods of death in war. But until you leave, you are nothing but bugs. You are the lowest form of life on Feng Rui. You are my spit. You are not human. You are an unorganized mob. My job is to get rid of the incompetent among you. They will never make it as one of my beloved Interstellar Paratroopers. Do you understand, maggots?"