NO MORE TRAINING  

 Toru woke as sirens wailed, the intercom in the room blaring it out, and he hit the button on the wall so a spray caressed his face, clearing the sleep as senses were stimulated. He swung out of his bunk just as Cosimo leapt down from the one above; the other Cadets reacting to the alarm as well. They had all gone to bed early last night, after the latest exam they were exhausted, if also exhilarated as there was little more of the Test to go, but they blanked this out as jumpsuits were pulled on.

    “That’s the attack warning, isn’t it?” wondered Sachin, something all were puzzled at.

    “It can’t be, the Drang can’t attack Mars,” stated Martina with fierce conviction. They all knew that, the solar system was well protected and the red planet itself, the base for the entire military of humanity, was safer than Earth. However it was the attack warning sounding and it was never used as a drill.

    The Cadets left their room and sprinted down the corridor, as did scores of humans, mainly young but of many ages, all here to train and defend their race. Of course tax exemptions and high pensions attracted them but the call to arms was fierce everywhere, the patriotic movies, the violent music; few could resist the urge to act in this the greatest of wars.

    Training Officer Vasquez met them at the tube-car station, bawling out orders to every Cadet that neared her as already trained troopers, grim faces set, purposes clear, passed through in response to this alert.

    “Look!” cried Hal, pointing at one of the many screens that acted as windows, showing the view through metres of metal structure via cameras. Others paused and gazed up, seeing the stars as well as various satellites and space stations, and also battleships, some docked at the latter but most in action, blazing away at enemy craft. As the Cadets watched a cruiser, its fighters buzzing around it like protective insects, received a salvo of torpedoes at a badly damaged area, causing the city-sized ship to erupt and split in half.

    “Cadets!” roared Vasquez, rushing to them and slapping and shaking several until all were riveted on her. “All of you go to Section Green, you’ll get weapons there, after that you just have to stay still and shoot. Go!”

    This was no time for questions or worries; they ran into a car and were sped through miles of base, everything flashing by too quickly for them to take in apart from a sense of shock, fear and ferocity. They might not be troopers yet but they knew enough to act like them now there was no other choice, sitting and clearing their minds, focusing on tactics, discipline, all they had been taught, and drawing strength from one another. That was vital to troopers they had been told. Comradeship helped you through the quiet and took you through the noise was Vasquez’s favourite saying. It had been acts of united defiance that had slowed the Drang advance, before the production of cohesive legions had reversed it.

    Suddenly Toru leapt up and halted the car. Before any could speak he faced his comrades and pointed to the car’s map above them.

    “We’re near the battle-suits, we have to get them to fight the Drang.”

    “Vasquez gave us orders,” countered Sachin sternly.

    “We’ll be cut to pieces without suits, once ready we’ll head to Green and drive the Drang out,” urged Toru. He could tell many wanted to obey orders yet nearly all agreed with him so he ran out anyway and heard them follow. Soon they entered a vast storage room and spread out, hurrying to standing metal suits that waited open for occupants. Cadets stepped in and armoured layers enclosed over them, snug, safe, and while it was thick it was also superbly crafted, everyone had complete freedom of movement, the suit designed to take the strain so it was never heavy or cumbersome. With devices in their teeth the Cadets were able to operate their computerised helms, the miniscule cameras relaying the outside world to the screen at their eyes so they could see all around, and communication channels were checked while weapons were taken from racks.

    “Stock up on ammo, not weapons,” Toru urged as one Cadet took two secondary weapons to go with his Assault Rifle, and so put one back. Toru put a laser pistol on his hip and a rifle on his back, suit keeping them in place magnetically, and added magazines before picking up a massive, multi-barrelled weapon. There were many heavy weapons ready for action here, the plasma-hurling Flamer, the energy-searing Blazer, the rocket-spraying Auto-Launcher, plus the Mega-Gun, a devastating weapon favoured in the Army.

    “Need a partner?” checked Cosimo beside him and at the nod he put ammo drums onto his back, from now on he would never leave Toru’s side. Others had similarly paired off, those with Assault Rifles only had formed units, yet they were together one force, about to go into their first battle and not leave until they had won.

    The trip in the tube-car was shorter than expected. Soon after resuming their journey they found the way blocked off by debris so left and jogged through corridors in defensive formations, continuing to Green Sector. Sounds of battle came, they picked up messages via their helms, then were confronted by a dozen troopers at barricades, swinging their powerful weaponry quickly to aim at the Cadets. Kwame at the front swiftly explained their arrival and the sergeant shook his head.

    “Green Sector’s lost, the Drang are pouring all over us and there weren’t enough of us there to hold it. Get over to the shuttle axis, they need help to defend it.”

    The Cadets ran on. Through the ‘windows’ they saw the naval battle continuing yet Drang ships were far more and human ones were disappearing in coats of flame. Not only that, but hundreds of transport ships were floating down to Mars, while fighters and bombers took on the aerial defences.

    “They must have sent everything they have at us,” remarked Cosimo in awe.

    “They’re desperate, we’re winning so they’ve gone all out,” Martina now said.

    “We beat them off, we win,” Toru now declared and all buzzed at the challenge. Even so, the transports kept coming.

    There were nearly fifty troopers at the shuttle axis, the centre of the main transport routes and now they saw tanks and jeeps speed past on trailers to needed areas. The captain, Grieg, was glad to see even Cadets arrive and appointed them to entrances whilst taking in information from a long-range console.

    “Did you hear?” Cosimo asked as he, Toru and others ran to their position. “Half the base gone and Field Marshal Tarus dead, we don’t know who’s in charge for us to rally to.”

    “Someone’s in charge, that’s how the Army works,” Toru assured him.

    “Still the Drang won’t be easy to fight out of here,” Cosimo went on. “We’re superior to them in many ways but they can be as tough as us.”

    “They had us once and we overcame then, today will be no different.” Toru spoke confidently and he believed his words, yet he glanced at his friend with concern, Cosimo had never showed such worry before. Then again, he’d never fought before, none of them had but for simulations. “Remember, when we first met the Drang the troopers didn’t have half the training we’ve done and they stood, fought and won. We’ll do the same.” Cosimo, and others, nodded in agreement.

    The human race had expanded in adventurous peace until meeting an alien race that attacked without restraint. There was no communication from them apart from gunfire, the sound from their primitive automatic rifles leading to the name humans used, yet it was soon clear that primitive was more effective. Humanity had to return to the long forgotten projectile weapons and destructive explosives of the past, then added their advanced technology so soon it was they who outgunned the enemy.

    “They’re coming!” someone called, voice clear in helms, no need to yell. Then flashes and swirls of laser and fire lit up one entrance as the Drang tried to force their way in. Toru kept focused on his post however, looking ahead, trusting those troopers at the conflict to hold out; the major lesson in training was that the Army had to be relied upon, each part performing their duty and each sure of the rest, or it would collapse. But it never had, when humanity had scoured history to fight this war it had learned every lesson and its military was the product of these, the greatest force ever known. The training was the cause of this, humans were prepared for war in every possible way, culminating in the Test, a six-month period of exams, simulations and drills that only one in three Cadets passed. Quality was the aim of the Army, no allowances were made.

    “We were so close to becoming troopers,” Toru muttered.

    “Huh?” Cosimo looked round but Toru shook his head, he hadn’t meant to say that. Yet he meant it, he had done so much and was near the Test’s end, now this was happening. True, if Mars fell humanity was doomed, but that was too big a concept for him to take in. Instead he felt frustrated. He had joined the Army to defend his people and for the tax breaks, but as he proceeded through the training and it took effect, pushing him to achievements he never dreamt of, stirring him to strive on, he wanted to become a trooper. To pass the Test, to be so highly rated that he was ascended into the ranks of the Army, Toru had sought that for so long not even the biggest onslaught in history was about to stop him.

    “Drang!”

    Several voices cried out before all opened fire, pouring bullets, rockets, energy and plasma down the corridor so that all signs of the enemy were blanked out. Then they ceased, waiting, alert, the walls, ceiling and floor seared with several battered corpses strewn across the corridor, then the Drang reappeared and returned fire. Shots were exchanged, more alien soldiers fell, bullets slammed into battle-suits but these endured far better than the padded armour of the invaders. Toru gritted his teeth as shots struck his shoulder but continued unleashing the constant barrage that roared from his Mega-Gun, shredding stocky forms, then ducked behind cover as a bazooka spat a rocket at them before rising and resuming.

    “They keep coming,” someone remarked.

    “They always do,” a veteran trooper replied. “Just kill them.”

    The Drang had a major advantage in competing with the human race. Their homeworld was bigger and so were stronger, if squatter, in build and had been able to increase much more in number before emigrating. That had kept the superior humans on the back foot for a long time, it was estimated that the Drang outnumbered them three to one, but when the supple yet resilient battle-suits were created it was the humans who were stronger in battle, able to wield more powerful weaponry than usual. Now the troopers of Earth and its colonies were leading the way toward the Drang homeworld, backed by a high class navy and brilliant scientists, all centred at the war planet Mars. That was surely the reason for this attack.

    Toru and Cosimo ran back to the next line of defences with their comrades as grenades were fired at them, then continued shooting, Cosimo helping Toru reload with a drum from his back. Yet it was clear the defence was not going well, all troopers and Cadets were being forced back little by little, and once in the wide area of the axis itself they would be taking fire from all directions. Toru swept his Mega-Gun and cut down a line of charging Drang, nearby Kwame coated four with plasma so they cooked alive, and Sachin used both Assault Rifle and Strafer Machine-Gun to deadly effect, when a rocket hit him full on and flung him out of sight. None went to check, even a battle-suit couldn’t stop that, and the enemy kept coming.

    “This is no good, we’ll be cut to pieces soon,” Toru announced.

    “Agreed,” came Captain Grieg’s voice over the com. “Fall back in three waves, bring the corridors down if you can.” Everyone instantly obeyed, firing rockets and hurling grenades, targeting the weak points in the base they knew so well, then began covering and retreating, one of the most practiced manoeuvres on Mars.

    A shuttle slid into the axis with ten vehicles behind it yet it was now impossible to pivot to alter its course as troopers and Cadets reformed while explosions blossomed about them. The turrets on two tanks rotated before the double-barrelled weapons boomed to send shells deep into corridors; the detonations whisking debris up through the passages, toppling humans and aliens alike. A.P.C.s opened up to allow the troopers destined for elsewhere to come out and join the defence, jeeps fired over the heads of all, allowing Grieg to reform his force.

    “Sergeant Chana, take these Cadets and secure the next three communication centres, we have to keep information moving,” Grieg ordered and Toru and the others soon hurried down one of the few non-assailed corridors. Behind them they heard the battle resume, most troopers already dispersed but some holding their ground to prevent pursuit. By the sounds of it they didn’t last long.

    “Hold here as long as you can but don’t waste yourselves,” the sergeant ordered Toru and six others before leading the rest on. Toru looked into the room he now guarded, the second communication centre they had come across, unsuited soldiers busy relaying reports and desperate to help defend Mars, then ahead down the corridor.

    “They won’t take long to get here,” Cosimo remarked, reloading his rifle.

    “Maybe we should go somewhere else and help out, we could be more effective then,” urged Martina.

    “No,” stated Toru, “we’ve got our orders.”

    “Didn’t stop you earlier,” chuckled Cosimo.

    “Rule Number One,” said Toru with a shrug.

    “Rule 1A: Always obey orders,” recited Kwame. “Rule 1B: Always use your own judgement and initiative to act upon a situation.” Now he shrugged. “I’ll never understand that, we can’t do both.”

    “What did Vasquez always say about it? There’s a time and place for everything, the trick is to spot it,” Martina put in.

    “Well I hope someone spots something to get the Drang off the planet,” muttered Toru. Every now and then tremendous thuds sounded from above, no doubt the impacts of aerial bombardment. “They should have done a simulation for Mars being under attack, I doubt anyone’s prepared for this.”

    “Yeah, well, sims are realistic but this is real,” Cosimo remarked. “When I saw Sachin get hit the noise was beyond belief.”

    “We’ve all fallen in sims,” Mark now noted grimly, “but this time we die.”

    The Cadets shut up as sounds of a firefight travelled up to them, despite fears and doubts none backed an inch. Then Cadets appeared, those left at the first centre, some unsuited soldiers firing regular weaponry with them, when two screamed as a flamethrower caught them.

    “Kwame, show him who’s boss,” Toru urged and his friend ran in, then let loose a focused stream that seared past comrades and beat back the flamethrower’s fire. A fierce explosion followed, which allowed the fleers to run and regroup with those waiting.

    “We couldn’t hold them,” Hal explained, almost apologised.

    “Let’s see what we can do,” Toru growled before firing on the first Drang to emerge from the flames, the others swiftly joining yet not all, some holding themselves back for later. A Drang aimed a bazooka but was shot through the dark glass visor by Cosimo, then a soldier carrying a heavy machine-gun was targeted by Martina and a rocket from her Auto-Launcher obliterated both weapon and carrier.

    Little was known about the Drang’s appearance, at first because they swept humanity aside covered in armour and with guns shrieking, yet when the tide turned and Drang corpses were available for study, little knowledge was given out. They were humanoid with tougher skin, however the military kept most facts a secret, along with any learning on language and culture. By then the human race had chosen to war with the Drang so understanding them didn’t help, to keep them faceless, mysterious, truly alien, that was easier to hate and so better to attack. Of course, Military Intelligence knew much, more than anyone else, even the Premier, but for the rest all they needed to know was how to kill them.

    “I think they’re regrouping, planning something new,” Mark observed over the array of dead and destruction, all reloading.

    “They’ll try,” scoffed Kwame.

    “They’re not stupid,” Toru countered, a warning barked often in training, and the Cadets steeled for the next attack. One thing learned of their foe and proclaimed was the fact humans were smarter and, best of all, could learn various skills, even perform many at once. Drang were slightly slower and seemed able to handle only one role, thus some were fighters, others medics, others engineers, while humans learned to be all which again helped against the odds. However knowing you were better was one thing, assuming you were was another.

    The Drang returned carrying the burnt, battered bodies of troopers before them. The Cadets snarled, Martina let loose her rockets and others hurled their grenades, swiftly they destroyed fallen comrades and removed the enemy’s protection, yet now they were low on explosives, so effective in corridors. Kwame and Hal took the lead this time, flame on wide and licking walls as it seared Drang, Hal’s Blazer was on a narrow beam and it sliced into ranks, with a low aim he removed legs by the dozen.

    Suddenly an explosion sounded and the Cadets looked round to see the communication centre’s roof had come down, none within visible anymore.

    “There’s no need to hold here, let’s move back,” declared Martina.

    “No, we’ll stay,” Toru responded, holding out a hand. “We’ll keep the pressure off the next group and buy more time.” Everyone nodded and blazed into the enemy, but when four troopers had fallen and Kwame lay hurt, they began to fall back. They never wavered, a few more fell, the unsuited soldiers were all gone by now, weapons ran low, yet the Drang only advanced at the expense of their own.

    “Shit,” cursed Toru as the Mega-Gun ran empty and he let it fall, taking his Assault Rifle from his back and firing brief bursts at visors. Mark fell beside him, shot too many times in the in the superbly-crafted armour, although the suits Cadets used were old ones and never at their best. Hal ran empty with the Blazer, then Chan cast the Flamer away, taken after Kwame’s injury.

    “Down!” came Sergeant Chana’s voice and they dropped before the third group fired over them and drove the scarred Drang back. The Cadets ran and reformed; some taking cans from their backs and spurting gel into rents that seeped into wounds, sighing with relief. “This isn’t going well,” Chana grumbled, “but then it sounds as if nothing is. You five, give your ammo out and run down there, a couple of turns on your left and you’ll find a depot, restock and bring us more too.”

    Toru led four others away, soon entering the room and finding little left, troopers having been here obviously, yet there was enough, and Martina took up a Maximum Assault Rifle, hefting it with relish in both hands. They hurried back to find their comrades hard pressed, a few damaged and down, but when the ammo was handed out they were able to unleash full and fierce, forcing the Drang away once more.

    Sergeant Chana lowered the powerful Longsword Laser Rifle he cradled and looked over his unit, then at the regrouping enemy, then at the room beside him.

    “Forget this plan, let’s try another,” he decided. “All wounded get in there and seal the doors, I know that means you’re stuck but you can keep the centre going longer. Sorry but move.”

    Toru patted Kwame on the back as he went and the doors were closed before the sergeant led them in a run down the passage, some grenades covering their retreat yet also provoking the Drang to pursue. Hal went down, shot in the leg, and before any could react four grenade-launchers fired to engulf him in explosions. Martina and Chana gunned the enemy down, then ran on, taking the rear with the best weapons, more blasts of bullets and laser fending the Drang off.

    “Sarge, let’s go to the training rooms, with all the shit we went through there the Drang will probably run home after an hour,” suggested Toru, his forced humour bringing some grim laughs.

    “Nice idea but the generators are too important so we’ll go there, I’m sure others will,” Chana replied. The last of their grenades bought them more space and time; they ran faster, benefiting now from all those stamina-building sessions, when a sealed door exploded. Several troopers came through the smoke, suits rent, blood flowing, yet still firing at the aliens that followed them. The conflict clashed with the retreat and humans aided each other, as did the Drang, capturing their prey in crossfire.

    Sergeant Chana stumbled as a grenade struck and Martina fell to a torrent of bullets, before Cosimo helped Chana up and they shot down Drang trying to set up a mounted machine-gun. Toru fired his rifle constantly, using his laser pistol as well, then rolled under a rocket and slew his assailant, when he felt as if punched in the ribs, hissing in pain. He knew his suit had been penetrated, he felt blood seep out, his front was already covered in dents and scars. The battle-suits were made to shield troopers and make them more powerful, yet even they weren’t designed to take an onslaught, more comrades fell. Then two mounted machine-guns opened up and Toru was slammed onto his back, pain tearing through his body before he lost all sense.

                                                                     #

    Toru woke and for several seconds couldn’t focus, his mind full of images, then he came to. Instantly he felt his chest where so many bullets had plunged in to horrific effect, yet there wasn’t a mark on him. He sat up.

    “Cadet Toru Inada,” Training Officer Vasquez greeted him, grabbing his wrist for his pulse and clicking her fingers before his eyes, “You’re not dead, Mars is fine and the Test is over.” Toru frowned and made to speak. “Yes, it was a simulation,” she said in a clipped, near dismissive manner, as if she had had to say this often, “we got you while you were sleeping so you didn’t have time to prepare for the change, and this equipment is better than the usual. Basically you just fought in the fall of Mars, the ultimate test of a trooper, with friends and comrades acting in certain ways, and we have judged you on how you performed, adding it to your other exam results.”

    “How’d I do?” Toro asked without hesitation. Parts of his brain were celebrating the fact he was alive, others raging at what he had been put through, but the rest had one focus only.

    “You passed, just,” Vasquez revealed and grinned at Toru’s fierce ‘yes!’. “We weren’t impressed when you disobeyed your first orders, my orders. If you had gone straight to Green Sector you would have lasted longer and put your suits on later, you should remember your superiors have passed the tests you have and more, we know best. Yet you were calm and resilient even when others voiced doubts and your training room idea was interesting. Your accuracy was impressive too. Some might argue you should fail for disobeying an order but you didn’t show a tendency to do it and should learn from this.”

    “Rule Number One says…” began Toru.

    “I’ve told you, you have to apply it right, you didn’t, but you’ll learn. We need the rule because armies need obedience, yet we also know restricted troops suffer for it, after all, war doesn’t stay still. But if you want my advice try and do as your told, that saw me through. Then again you had confidence in yourself, that’s always good.” Now Vasquez pulled Toru to his feet, a little giddy but no more. “Get to the canteen and eat something, that will put you right, then get packing.”

    “Already?” questioned Toru.

    “The war has us in a hurry, hope that’s okay?” Vasquez snapped before cuffing him round the head and sending him off, then moving to another cubicle.

    When Toru arrived at the canteen he found a dozen Cadets already there, each having been through the same ordeal and passed; those who failed no doubt had more training to do. He and Cosimo grinned as they met up, Martina was busy stuffing her face, Mark too.

    “You should have heard yourself in my scenario,” Cosimo laughed as Toru ate. “I was worried you were going to cry. Then again, in Jose’s one you tried taking all the Drang on by yourself.”

    “Well your scenario was about you and your actions, that was why you were at the centre of so much,” Toru pointed out.

    “Felt normal to me,” Cosimo answered with a shrug.

    “Do you think any others made it?”

    “There’s a lot of us to test, even by groups, so there could be more to come.”

    “Yeah but the Test is notoriously tough, they say you’ve more chance winning a political election.” Cosimo gave his friend a look.

    “You love it!” he accused. “You’ve passed the Test and you could marry yourself and live happily ever after.”

    “Well we are now rated as the best warriors the human race has ever produced,” Toru revealed, which Cosimo had to nod at. “Also, I was pissed off when I woke up, but having fought and died once, I don’t fear doing it again. I know we didn’t die, yet each of us was certain it was real and we didn’t flinch, we fought and fell as we had to. I don’t want to die even more now, but I’ll do the same again. It makes me feel invincible in an odd way.”

    “I guess that’s the point,” remarked Cosimo. “I guess that’s why we’re winning the war.”

    As the ex-Cadets ate and recovered, a few more joining them, they heard a report that a human army, having failed once to destroy a vital Drang base, had returned and succeeded while suffering heavy casualties. This meant enemy supply lines had been cut plus their losses had been horrendous; it had been a severe wound to inflict.

    Once the Drang had marched through the galaxy, threatening humanity’s existence, only to reawaken forgotten savagery and resilience and now their doom seemed assured. Nothing but mercy could save them, and that was something they didn’t teach on Mars.