Chapter Eleven:
Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, Archer, Sara Nubran Lunar Base
May 7, 7215
Brandon awoke, stiff and sore. Bleary eyes glanced around the white room. Slowly he pulled himself upright. With a yawn and stretch, he yelped as he was dumped on the floor. His cot was dissolving into the floor.
“Didn’t I fly to the moon? Isn’t this the Titan Training facility? How did I get back here?” Brandon’s rhetorical questions mattered little. He already knew the drill and was standing nude when the shower reformed.
After a quick shower and breakfast, Brandon’s room began to melt away. Even his cabinet sunk into the floor. Although instead of melting like the nanite structure, it simply sank down until the top was level and undistinguishable from the rest of the floor.
As the walls melted down Brandon got an answer to one of his questions. He was still on the lunar base. In his exhausted state, he had found his way back to the first room the Titan Warriors had met in. Across the room numerous other cells were still standing. Some though like his had melted way revealing other Titan Jock cadets.
Glancing at the wall Brandon saw a clock. Its sharp purple numerals contrasting against the white wall. He had only 18 minutes until his 8 hours of down time was up.
From the glances of the others around him, Brandon guessed they were as unsure as he was. Should they be reporting to their pods? Or should they wait here? Finally, what about the others still in their cells?
As another minute passed, Brandon made a decision. He turned on his heel and at a jog left the room. Most of those who had been standing there unsure followed close on his heels. The group began to split as they reached the individual Platoon rooms. Entering his Brandon made it to his pod, with 6 minutes to spare on the wall display.
Placing his hand on the pod, he breathed a sigh of relief when it turned green and opened up. Pulling his vest off and unsheathing his weapons he stepped into the tight pod’s interior.
Blinking against the sudden bright light of a harsh sun, Brandon winced. It took him several seconds to understand the shift in his world. He was now standing with nearly twenty others on a black tarmac.
Well this is disappointing.” Lord Knight Nubran said, in a cold emotionless voice.
The twenty or so present cadets burst into activity. In seconds, they formed a rough formation and stood at attention. Even as more cadets appeared from nowhere.
Lord Knight Nubran shouted at the newcomers,” you rixxing lot! Stand where you are! You will all be fined 1 point for every second you were late.”
As he said that an image flashed in front of Brandon’s face. It was a list of the cadets ranked from highest to lowest. An exact copy of the one he had seen earlier. Now though nearly a third of the listed names had their numbers ticking down.
When someone would appear in the growing crowd of latecomers; a name would stop its meteoric decent. A few even dropped below the zero mark.
Watching the names drop Brandon cringed in sympathy. However, he was more relieved to see that Axeman and a few other names from the KIA list were listed. Two of them were even in the negative 200’s and dropping now. That at least told him that they had not died in real life.
At least not yet…
Another two minutes passed then finally Lord Knight Nubran screamed, “Right you rixing lot of vat scrum fall in!”
In moments, the two companies of cadets were lined up.
“So you made it past your first stint in the simulators. Now we will up the length of your stay. This time you will be in for 11 days>”
Remembering how bad he felt after getting out last time; Brandon had trouble not joining the Jocks around him who fidgeted nervously at the news.
The Lord Knight sneered seeing the movements, “You rixing lot, also passed your conventional military training. That means if you can not hack it as a real warrior; then you can join the ground pounders.”
Not seeing the reaction he wanted he continued, “We will be going over shipboard operations, then give you sorry lot some practice with orbital insertions, and finally some ranked missions. At the end of this segment you will be placed into your permanent units.”
Having said everything, he needed Lord Knight Nubran just vanished. The cadets stood there still for a full two minutes before finally the black tarmac disappeared.
Brandon found himself sitting in a room full of loud buzzing equipment. A harsh thrum vibrated through the metal floor decking beneath his feet. It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the much dimmer lighting.
He was in what must be a ships engine room. A grease stained jumpsuit that might have once been grey had replaced his Royal purple uniform. Upon his head was a thick construction worker style protective helmet. On his waist was a heavily weighed down tool belt. Odd tools pocking out from what must have been twenty pouches and attached satchels.
Suddenly a siren began wailing and red lights began to flash across the room.
A voice over the intercom shouted, “Engineering! The reactor is reporting a critical failure! We have 30 seconds before it goes nova!”
Brandon looked around at the stunned faces. They were looking at him for direction, yet he had no ideas what to do on this one. 30 seconds later, it didn’t matter. That simulation ended with searing pain and a fiery conclusion.
Brandon soon lost count of the number of simulations that he went through. It even began to get hard to remember this was all just training, not some kind of hellish torture.
He was an engineer in some, a fighter pilot in others, a ship marine in a few, and even bridge crew. The only constant was that each and every scenario started and ended in high stress, high adrenaline action.
As suddenly as the insane regiment of shipboard trainings started, they ended. After failing yet another shipboard mission, he found himself in the cramped cockpit of a Titan.
“Fucking shit! I will never criticize those damn ship pilots again! That was insane!”
His musing was cut off by a voice coming over the radio. “Class B insertion will commence in 30seconds …”
Quickly going through a checklist that was as familiar to him as showering, yet foreign, Brandon Discovered he was in a Bobcat.
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The Light class Titan was specifically designed for combat drop scenarios. With large splayed feet, reinforced legs and hips. It was even a class B design, which meant it had a T shaped body. No arms, or head, and the legs attached to where the top and leg of the T met.
It was a solid design used exclusively for almost a thousand years. Until the technology allowed for full Class C human chasses. It still provided unparalleled leg and hip support, along with a compact design.
Brandon’s fingers flew over the control systems, ensuring he was ready, as his mind wondered. When the radio said 5…4…3…2... 1... Brandon Jumped.
The bottom of the transport opened up with both sides falling outward. Less than 50 meters away, the ground sped past too fast to clearly see. As Brandon’s Bobcat slipped out the bay, his forward momentum carried him at a downward angle. Pumping his legs, he started a running motion.
The Titans speedometer read an insane 300kpH when he hit the ground with a jolt. Shock absorbers built into the Ankles, knees, and hips of the Titan allowed a seamless transition to a forward running motion. Even with the speedometer dropping to a much slower, but more realistic 200KpH, the terrain sped past in a blur.
Smiling wildly at the drops ease, Brandon laughed. He had not realized how stressed he had become at the continuous failures of the ship based training scenarios. With a silent vow, he promised to leave space to the spacers. He would keep his feet on the ground. Or, at least close to it.
The cockpit around him shifted suddenly. “Class B insertion will commence in 30seconds …”
He did not recognize the Titan design he now found himself in. But, a quick scan over internal systems told him the story he needed to know. This design was not going to handle the drop as easy. It wouldn’t be as hard as one of the massive Titans might have, but it would be no cakewalk, either.
Brandon completed drop-training scenario after training scenario. Each one growing more challenging in some way or the other. First, it was by getting Titans that were less capable of the drop. Then it was by increasing the drop height. Finally, He was jettisoned out of a hanger on a ship toward a planet far below. His Ultra-Light Titan was not designed for orbital entry and lack the heat dispersing shielding all together. Heck the hastily attached parachute was barely big enough to support his weight. He survived the trip though. His Titan would not be combat ready unfortunately. Both legs were shattered, and his entire left arm had burnt up in reentry. But as paratroopers have said for years, “Any jump you can walk away from, is a good jump.”
Finally, Brandon found himself standing in a Titan Bay. Unlike the last time this one was a full bay, not one created from a mobile FOB. The 20 bays around him each held Titans.
Paint fresh, armor shined, and weapons polished to dangerous brilliance. Around him stood enough massed firepower to eliminate the entire military of most countries from the time of his simulation.
Glancing around he nodded. The Titan Company seemed to be well balanced for a Light company. It was composed of 8 Exicuters, 6 Tomahawks, 3 Squirrels, 2 Thompers, and One Red Hawk.
House Nubran owns the Exicutor design. Cheap to make and maintain they formed nearly a third of the Houses Titan forces. The body of the ugly little Titan resembled an upside down egg, with two long strut like legs attaching on the outside just below half way up the body. Each leg had a reverse facing knee joint and a spread three-toed foot that made the entire leg look like a chicken’s.
With decent armor for its weight, two heavy machine guns and a rack of three medium range missiles, the design was well geared. Weighing in at 25 tons, the machine was a decent light Titan, if extremely ugly and troublesome to pilot.
The Tomahawk design is another House Nubran owned design. Taking up another full third of the House’s total Titan tonnage, it is the main workhorse for the House. A standard class C design and weighing in at 25 tons it is more versatile than the Exicutor design.
With two 50 cal machine guns, one rack of three MRMs, and a rack of two Long Range Missiles the design is mostly intended as a skirmisher, only moving in close when all heavily armored targets have been blown into submission.
Squirrels are a Light C class Titan design. Being Freesource, they are found all over the galaxy. Lightly armored and equipped with only a Small Laser the design did not offer much bite. However, they could run circles around most other designs, with a tops speed nearing 300kpH.
Thompers were the reverse of the Squirrels. A 25-ton class B design they topped out at a mere 70kpH. What they lacked in speed they made up for in armor though. Sporting an extremely impressive amount. However, their damage output was lacking as well making them unfavorable by most Titan Commanders.
Brandon eyed the single Ultra-Light Guass Rifle jutting out of the Titan’s T shaped torso. They were the definition of a vanguard, able to absorb anything in its weight class with ease.
Finally, the Red Hawk. Another House Nubran unique design. The Titan weighed in at 25 tons and had the familiar class B shape. It was a scout Titan with a basic sensor Suite equal to the one he had used with the Apache. Equipped with an Ultra-Light Guass Rifle and a Small Laser it could dish out a decent punch.
His Ruminations only took a minute or so, yet no one else had appeared in the Bay. Not even the work crews that a Titan needed to keep operational.
With a Shrug Brandon approached the row of Tomahawks. If he had to choose and he was to assume this would be a full unit, then this was his optimal choice. The Red Hawk was a close second. However, that scout design was likely going to be needed as it was designed and a leader shouldn’t be running off to scout alone.
Brandon climbed up into the cockpit and began the system checks. Seconds after his electronics came up, a notification flashed on the front view screen.
Choose your Pack and Jocks.
1. Highlander Tomahawk
2. ???
3. ???
4. ???
Two more screens appeared, one on each side of the main view. The right had a list of Call signs. The left was a list of Titans. The Titan list matched what he saw in the bay. He could drag and drop a name into each slot then a Titan next to it.
When he selected a Jock, however the Jocks Status came up. Most of it wasn’t Important. He didn’t need to know these people’s names, or ages… well everyone was 18 it seemed.
“Guess that is the age they make us at.” Brando mused as he glanced over a list of skills.
He stopped a second later and made his first choice. Vampire was on the list. To confirm he looked at her bio. Sure enough, the feisty Asian woman’s mug shot looked back at him. Glancing at her skills, he smiled.
“Damn! She knows four different types of martial arts! No wonder she can fight.”
She was also skilled at sensors, for both land and air. So he pulled her over and selected the Red Hawk as hers.
“Well if we are going to be the scout group then let’s do it right.”
He began to browse through the list of Jocks, searching for ones that had skills in either Light Titan Piloting, or Energy weapons.
He opened up one labeled Ghost and saw the tall blond Slovakian woman. His smile grew as she had both Light Titan Piloting 1 and Energy weapons 1. He selected her and chose a Squirrel for her.
His last choice wasn’t so easy. He couldn’t find anyone with either skill after going through the whole list. On his second visit, he finally settled on a Jock with the call sign Nova. He was one of the only two candidates with any Titan piloting skills at all. His was Heavy 2. The other candidate had Heavy 1.
Choose your Pack and Jocks.
1. Highlander Tomahawk
2. Vampire Red Hawk
3. Ghost Squirrel
4. Nova Squirrel
Confirming his selection, a new screen appeared having him select two substitute Jocks and two alternative Titans. He quickly selected two Tomahawks as the alternative Titans and after a minute of debating, he made his selection for his Jocks.
Starting unit assignment…
Marvel has first selection… Selection Made.
Highlander has second selection… Vampire and Red Hawk selected.
Pluto has third selection… selection made.
CaptainP has fourth selection… First Jock taken… selection made.
Starslinger has fifth selection… selection made.
As the first round of drafts finished five Jocks appeared in the bay. Brandon recognized Vampire in the group. They all looked around for a moment then began to split apart. Vampire came over to his row of Titan bays, and climbed into the Red Hawk that had appeared there. The process started over again.
This time there were more messages saying choices had already been made. To his surprise, though Brandon got both Ghost and the Squirrel he wanted for her.
“Highlander? What’s going on?” Vampire’s voice came over the radio. Her Titan and image appearing on his left console. A second passed then her callsign changed to ‘Fireball.’
Good to see you again… Fireball? “It is like the draft. Seems we are selecting a full platoon of Titans and Jocks.”
She nodded, “I like fire and this name suits me better.”
Brandon noted she didn’t say hi or anything, but left it alone. The next five Jocks appeared in the hanger bay and in similar fashion; they looked around then split apart. A minute later Ghost’s icon came online.
“Dat you, American?”
Brandon smiled, “yes it is.”
Ghost smiled back, “Good. Now why da fuck am I in a Rixing Squirrel?”
Their banter continued as the fourth round of selections went on. Brandon had to take his second substitute Jock but got the Squirrel.
A minute later the last five Jocks appeared and split apart. Once Xerkal came online, Brandon began his startup sequence; the reactor began to warm up, engines vibrated to life, and fluid started filling the cockpit.