Ignition Broker: Chapter 35 Starting A Field Training Exercise

Chapter 35

Starting A Field Training Exercise

“It’s nothing personal; when someone says that, know that they mean either you aren’t someone they take seriously, or they want you to make it personal so they don’t feel as guilty. To which I say, never let someone feel guilty for their past misdeeds, even the field, or better yet make them regret not making it personal to begin with.” – Marcon on how people justify their misdeeds, and how to respond.

The team stood in awe of the giant troop transport, Meanwhile all Arla could do was keep her military bearing by not noticing the inherent discrepancies between their craft, provided equipment and those provided to the other teams.

On the surface, everything looked the same, then again a fresh coat of paint can always go to hide a lot of blemishes. But some blemishes cannot even be hidden with enough paint and buffering, take for instance the all too visible and easily recognizable sun baked patches that form due to prolonged exposure to intense heat and pressure, implying that this piece was recently salvaged from a wasteland planet. Or from an old battlefield that was recently harvested for parts.

All the parts here had the unmistakable look of being original pieces, which when properly preserved made the task of maintenance easy. However, in this case, the drive shafts were faulty, the repair welding was spotty at best, and worst of all, the maintainer who had been assigned to their group was apparently one of the best. Not the best, as those had been assigned to the true Cerusian squads. But the first non-Cerusian group received Cadet Goldbridger, by all accounts a top level maintainer.

Yet, just looking at the work, it was clear that something deeper ran in competition.

“Good news Cadets, we know you all are tired of having to deal with our motivational voices to help you achieve true success. You all have complained and we have listened, which is why we are changing a few things up for this upcoming FTX.” Lead Drill Instructor Clavil began, as he spoke his words were parroted in Cerusian by Matron Dr. Sophilia Hylanthian.

The two made an odd pairing, but it was clear that they thought the matted blue hair utilized by Arla’s group was disrespectful. However, since the hair color had officially been adopted by the military at the time of the last unification war, and was used in more subdued instances by more powerful members of the Cerusian delegation, it couldn’t be scolded against by itself.

That said, it was clear that the blue hair made Arla’s Blue Devil Squad Members stand out. Not just for the fact that people had come to calling them the BDSMs in private, at least that was how it started.

A team of C rankers led by one singular A-Ranker leading the charts in most combat aspects was unheard of. Their success only seemed to highlight just how obtuse the S-Rankers were with their powers, almost as if they had not grown up with their powers and all but seemed to have been given them recently.

Uncoincidentally, their platoon was the one most tested for drugs or performance enhancing substances. Surprisingly, the only one that was caught up in these near constant scans was the one true S-Ranker of the bunch. At least he was the one that Arla was not personally supplying Lryia substances for, if he found his own broker then that was even more impressive. While the one true S-Ranker was still undergoing punishment and extra duty for being caught, he was still on what was deemed a probationary period.

When the rest of the campus heard about this, it only confirmed what everyone knew, that S-Rankers would get second and third chances where other rankers like the members of her squad would not receive any such benefits.

Still, it was good, as that one incident managed to make the S-Rankers as hated as the members of her squad.

At least that was what Arla thought, until she started seeing the supplies that her team had been provided.

“Your goal, take your launch ships, calculate a trajectory, then wait until time to launch. If you fail this process, your ship will not be allowed to leave and you will be forced to forfeit your spot from the beginning. Then if you are capable of taking off, then you must devise an approach and landing angle, which you can then be denied as well. Forced to wait out the rest of the mission in a floating orbit around your entry planet until the operation expires. That or you can land, where you then need to set up your equipment, perform a reconnaissance, gather resources, evaluate troop movements and details, then pack up as if you were never there, prep to leave, and leave.” The Drill Instructor stated.

He then paused, letting all those processes kick in.

“If it sounds too easy, then you are right. As there is only enough fuel to launch, land and maybe a day or two of comfortable existence if you are lucky. Unfortunately, the operation will be a fourteen-day long process. Meaning, once on the planet, you will need to gather resources, likely via stealing from or bartering with the local inhabitants of the planet, then process them for resources, and leave.” Clavil continued.

During this same time the Matron parroted the commands, but hers were a bit more detailed, “obviously from the sky, you are expected to scan the planet for resource rich pockets, where you will then make landfall and avoid meeting with any sentient species. Being identified by any such species will result in a one grade deduction.”

Hearing the stark differences between the two sets of communication, Arla couldn’t help but feel that it was a set up. Whether they were supposed to win or not, it was clear that the Matron was providing better guidance.

According to the handbook and prep work leading up to this point it was noted that a cursory scan should be performed before landing on your arriving planet. If you are the second to arrive at a planet, you are to establish your landing zone on a space that is the opposite side of those who arrived first. Yes, according to the materials provided each planet would have the chance of receiving at least two landing teams.

Landing at a previously claimed site would also mark a deduction in ranking. The number one way to confirm a landing spot was to get in, radio out, and then go quiet. Of course, using the burst to claim your spot would likely be enough to run your ship dry on power from the start. Meaning the team that wished to focus on claiming their lands would obviously run out of power upon landing and claiming their spot. Which was why most people would be tempted to either buy a secondary battery supply casing with their funds.

“Just a reminder, after this time you will have one hour to inspect your escape pod, your landing detachments, your scanning equipment, landing gear, then come back with a list of what you need replaced to me,” Clavil began.

“And there will be equipment needing to be repaired or otherwise adjusted.”

At that comment Clavil gave a not-so-subtle eye sweep of the crowd, one that he had been doing every so often, but this one felt off, strained in a way that was almost imperceptible to notice. That is, until he locked eyes with Cadet Goldbridger, at which point Goldbridger gave a nod of understanding, before the lead Drill instructor would move on.

“All right, go, inspect your equipment, see what is needed, and then come back to me with your supplies. For this each team has been granted an additional budget of a thousand credits to spend on necessary gear,” Clavil began.

Then as if trying to divert attention away from actual needed items, he doubled down, “know that an extra energy pack needed to survive your entire trip is on a first come first serve basis and will start at 500 credits, and slowly increase by a hundred credits each, until supplies run out.”

Seeing the tactics, Arla smirked inwardly at the ploy. The tactic was simple, there were now eight teams, with six extra energy packs for sale, meaning at least two teams would not be able to receive an extra energy pack.

For her part Arla had already accounted for not having an energy pack, assuming the one she received would either be faulty, or require more maintenance than she was willing to provide such an item.

That was why she went with a more practical approach to this FTX. As the leader she was not only graded by how well her team did at each step, but how well she prepared her team to survive such an event. While each cadet was supposed to maintain their own clothing and equipment, it was her role as the leader to ensure the safety of the team.

This meant that if the power supply ran out, then the water filtration systems, the air purifiers, food production, and resource harvesting equipment would all need to be accounted for.

To her credit, Arla had already accounted for each of the above four items being out, which explained not only her shopping list, but why she was the first one ready to order items when the command to go to the ship was first offered.

“All right, with that, I will leave you to inspect your ship. Once you are done, then come back here, sign for your equipment. At which point you will be given the coordinates of your planet that you will be expected to arrive at, once you review your planet, the noted resources, and temperatures, you are to make any last minute changes to your shopping lists, which you will make and carry away from the store upon purchase,” Clavil stated.

The commands were once again parroted back to the Cerusians, but this time the Matron couldn’t help but stare at Arla for a moment, before a look of something crossed her face. Not having much time to interpret Cerusians all Arla could see was the pursing of the lips and maybe a bit more. The moment was soon dropped as the Matron shook her head and continued to speak to her platoon of Cerusians that would disperse into the various squads.

Once she was done, she turned and faced Clavil giving him a head nod. Seeing the gesture, Arla couldn’t help but feel that it was the exact gesture that cadet Goldbridger had given the leader not a moment ago.

With that gesture, Arla’s next few steps were ingrained in her head, as she intended to make a statement with this FTX, one the Cerusians and the Empire both would do well to remember. But first, she had to get out of here and away from the eyes of the command.

“Remember you now have three hours until you need to be prepped with all your gear stowed away and provide the launch coordinates, launch time, and travel path required to get to your intended destination,” Clavil shouted, his words ringing with a finality that would be nearly impossible to forget. Then to emphasize his words, he shouted, “dismissed.”

With the command given, the teams broke apart into their groups, before marching off to do one final inspection of their craft. This time, the teams were allowed to view inside, for Arla again this process was irrelevant, as she already knew the supplies she would need to purchase.

“Squad on me,” Arla demanded. Like a well oiled machine the squad came together, with only one awkward outlier barely getting close to the rest of the group. Just seeing Goldbrider’s reluctance to even get close to the rest of the team was enough for Arla to understand her next course of action.

Without missing a beat, Arla gave a hand sign for her team to follow her, at which point she walked out and began walking straight to Lead Drill Instructor Clavil.

Sensing her presence, the Lead Drill who had gone to talk to a few of the other Drill Instructors who were all gathered around looked confused at first, but then turned to face Arla.

“Cadet Proma, are there any questions?”

“No, turning in our list as per the conditions,” Arla stated, pulling out a perfectly preprinted list of supplies, their tallied costs and already hosting her signature and today’s date neatly legible for all to see.

“You wanted a cheap power supply that…” Clavil began, but then caught himself as he actually looked at the list of supplies.

Blue Devil Squad’s Supply List.

 1 Wrench set: 50

300 yards of welding coil: 300

 1 torquing coupler: 100

 1 crystalline butane lighter: 100

15 pounds of space welding sealant: 150

25 Days’ worth of ration: 125

25 Days’ worth of water: 125

Delivery Fee: 50

____________________________

Total: 1,000

Seeing the list Clavil’s eyes went wide at first, but then he closed his mouth and looked up. True to form, the first set of eyes he met were not Arla’s but those of Cadet Goldbridger, who looked like a pig caught in the meat processor.

Again, there were unspoken words and conversations that happened in that exchange, but at the end Goldbridger just nodded his head multiple times, all but confirming that whatever he was supposed to have done had been accomplished.

“You sure you want these, and don’t want to inspect the ship first?” Clavil asked.

Hearing the obvious note of concern in Clavil’s voice, Arla responded.

“No, I’m certain that Cadet Goldbridger here did an excellent job of maintaining and preparing our vessels. That or, if he didn’t then he would be stuck with us for fifteen days in space without an energy supplier, making him no doubt find the motivation to fix any errors that might arise in transit.”

With that Arla smiled widely, making sure to show off her pearly white teeth to both Clavil and to Goldbridger, both of whom looked subtly creeped out.

“You don’t even know where you are going, or if you will need additional clothing?” Clavil protested, as he looked and saw that the list even accounted for a delivery fee to be applied.

“Well, we will have to hope that each soldier packed accordingly as per the rules and regulations,” Arla noted. Giving a quick glance at her squad, everyone of the C-Rankers all nodded their heads in agreement, while it was clear that Goldbridger did not as he looked flustered. Well more flustered than he had up until this point.

“Okay, well I can’t stop you, but know that if you fail, you are giving us ample reasons to revoke your officer candidacy,” the lead drill instructor concluded.

Hearing that, Arla smiled as she realized what the goal of this subterfuge was. For some reason, she was to be demoted, or otherwise made to fail at being an officer.

There was a pause, as the lead drill instructor looked at the list again. Then he commented, “you do know that 300 yards of welding coil is more than you will need to fix a fleet of ships, right?”

“I’m aware, but at that price point how could I resist,” Arla commented.

For a space fleet, welding coil was the Empire’s equivalent of duct tape, at least that is what Arla had been told by Marcon. While the original recipe of duct tape had been lost to the ages of space travel, it’s all-purpose utility was well documented. Any findings of the mythical duct tape were to be lauded as heralds of humanity, but so far nothing had been found that could truly define what the ancient texts noted as duct tape.

“Well, in that case, here is your planet, the list of resources you are to gather, and here is your transfer of equipment form, that will relegate all damages to the property your team is going to be assigned during this FTX to you.”

There it was again, the second major punishment, forcing Arla to be a debt wage due to any items that might be damaged beyond repair.

Seeing that, Arla could only nod in understanding as she began to sign the documents before her. Her supplies already being loaded by automatic delivery bots and being placed outside her vessel.

With the forms completed and signed in triplicate, Arla received a copy of each form. A recording made to capture all signatures and forms filled out, then her and her team were allowed to leave the registry station and head to fully inspect her ship.

On her way in, Arla couldn’t help but marvel at the speed and proficiency that each drone supplied to the work force, as she saw a giant box of different sized wrenches from her wrench set already waiting outside her vessel. And it was her vessel, at least for the next three weeks, or until her team invariably failed one of the prescribed tasks assigned to them. At which point, she would be forced to get the ship reinspected and signed back to an issuing authority, where no doubt blemishes or defects would be identified. It was standard practice, but Arla figured this time it went a bit further.

Inspecting the wrench set, Arla grabbed the largest of the wrenches, one that looked closer to the size of a giant mallet than an actual wrench. These were designed for getting off internal caps that would require a machine to get through mostly, but for her part Arla still liked the feel and weight of actual tools in her hands. Despite having also purchased a torquing coupler, but that was going to be a tool needed for speed, especially if the level of sabotage she expected had been present.

“You know, Goldbridger,” Arla began as they entered the cabin. Without even being warned, most of the team began grabbing tools and bringing them in. Arla herself grabbed the 300 yards of welding coil, an item that would take three people or a machine to lift, she hefted quite easily.

“What’s that?” Goldbridger asked his posture tight as he entered the quickly tightening entry way. The reason why the area was getting cramped was that there were a lot items and not much space for them all to be placed easily.

Shht.

As the Rayalta came in with one of the barrels of water, the door closed behind leaving the room completely sealed off to the outside world.

“I have to say thank you,” Arla began.

“Th, thank me?” Goldbridger responded as he seemed to relax ever so slightly.

“Yes, while you might not realize it, you have been a major help,” Arla began.

“Well yeah, that’s what we do as maintainers,” Goldbridger stated.

“No, I mean when you came in and scanned the room to check out if we would notice your handywork.”

“Handywork?”

“Yeah, would have been a lot tougher having to strip everything off, but your eyes gave it away when you came in,” Arla noted, as she proceeded to point to each panel that Goldbridger subconsciously looked at while entering the ship.

“What? You think I. . .” he began.

Thwack.

But his words were cut off by a quick and satisfying crack to the head. With that, Goldbridger, the maintainer who had been assigned to the team as a mercy, slumped to the ground seemingly lifeless from one strike.

Seeing the quickly slumping body, Rayalta was the first to react to the seemingly unprovoked attack, “what did you do?”