Lucas was exhausted. The last week had been hell. Whoever had put that course together had seen to many bad movies about how boot camp should be and really no idea what he wanted to accomplish with this. Marches that took twenty hours every other day? Five hours of sleep maximum? While, with modern drugs, this was at least semi possible, it was not sustainable. And he knew, mostly because the documents outlining the training were not considered to be state secrets, that this would mostly continue for the rest of the two month training, although admittedly there would be slight changes. Mostly adding stuff on top of what was currently done.
This was hell. And it would only get worse. How in the name of all that is holy could someone have thought that this here was a good idea? What would they do with the many people that would undoubtably quit over this treatment? What was their plan for that? Yes, this could be excused a bit with the fact that nobody had a single clue of how to built a modern military from essentially scratch.
But, and it was a big but, speaking against this was the simple fact that they were not building an military from scratch. The UE never had something on this scale, admittedly, but it had a military. It was small, incredibly specialized, small units only, with every single member being a scientist in his or her own right, and it was clear that its training could not be transplanted.
Ok, when you looked at it from that angle, you could actually see how one gets to this hell. Take the former UE training course, remove the studying bits, at least mostly, and then compress that, which took generally roughly a decade, into a mere two months. And voila, you were there. Admittedly, it was a bit easier than this theoretical construct, some things needed to be cut due to time constraints, but this was basically it.
Lucas was certain that someone was already working on a revision or two. But until that revision would be implemented, he needed to go through this.
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Elsewhere:
“Who in gods name implemented this bit of idiocy without even checking if it was physically possible? We do not have enough drugs on hand nor the necessary production to make up for the shortfall of making this stupidity in any way possible. Excluding that it would not be viable even if we had that! Excuse me, but I have a few sleepless nights in front of me while solving that. Please find the responsible party. I want to have a ‘word’ with it.” The loud voice trailed of at the last sentence.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
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Back to the Boot Camp, two weeks latter:
“Mr. Tarson. You are one of the best of your current class, and one of the few who are actually still trying to continue this torture. Luckily for you and all the others currently going through boot camp, tomorrow a big change will be coming”
“Ah, finally. Why did this take so long, if I am allowed to ask, sir?”
“Well, lets just say, AI’s can be fairly stubborn if you give them the wrong orders and do not realize what the issue is. But that is not what I wanted to talk about with you. I have seen that you want to go into the space force. Is that still true?”
“Yes, of course it is still true. I am from Therion. Some stereotypes are there for a reason after all. Not all, not many, but some. And that Therion is a bit space mad, well that has a good foundation in truth. Why are you asking, sir?”
“Well, we have that experimental program where your experiences during the evacuation of Terra could be useful. We plan to build ships that can at least partially be controlled by the neural interface, through hardline connections. We are still in the early phases of figuring out how feasible it is, and you will still need to go through the rest of this here, but if you want to be part of this, I can reserve you a place in the program.”
“Of course I want! Going to space, being part of humanities space borne forces, that is my dream. Ahem, excuse my outburst, sir, but you know, I am from Therion after all.”
He laughed: “Yeah, one can see that. I sometimes wonder if there is something in the water, considering how much your people seem to love space. Please control your enthusiasm and consider that it might take a while until you first get into space. Feasibility tests on the ground, and the elevator needs to be finished before we get any space hours. But do not worry, if it works, you might become one of the first pilots of humanities first space warship.”
“I will not disappoint you or humanity, sir!”
“I am certain of that. Well, that is all, unless you have any questions, I will take my leave now?”
“No, no questions, sir.”
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One month latter:
“I am proud of you all. Even though the beginning of this was far harder then it should have been, you have powered through. You have shown yourself to be exceptional members of our society, and you will, of that I am sure, continue to do so in humanities defense. There will be many difficulties ahead of you. Many challenges, that will take blood, swear and tears to overcome. Some of you are likely to die in the coming war. But considering what you have done and what you will continue to do in the future, I am certain that you will defeat those bastards!”
Lucas sighed. Speeches, commendations, ceremonies revived from an ancient, long forgotten past, were not the easiest thing to stand through. That the newly designed garde uniforms were not the most comfortable to wear, and that was saying it lightly, did not make the entire thing easier. Admittedly, when they got them three days ago, it was a bit funny, considering they were expected to fold and care for them manually. Which was, admittedly, a lost art. Robotics were rather helpful, after all. Luckily, someone had used one of the robots responsible for caring for their usual uniform and turned it into an impromptu demonstration. Still, it had been funny to look at. Although, he was certain, it would have been funnier if he actually had had the ability to fold his uniform beforehand. No matter, tomorrow he would be back home, on Therion!