Chapter 27: On the line
The squad's mood was dark when we sat there, waiting for lunch. Thankfully, the mess hall was always warm and toasty, so we didn't have to sit there and freeze to death. Unfortunately, our mood was not improved by Desmond and his constant complaints.
How long will it take to get our food? What will the food be? I'm not eating that. No wine? Why isn't this cooked properly? Do we get a second course? Where's the fruit?
He just didn't shut up! We, however, were delighted to have warm food. Rice, vegetables, mushrooms, and some thick orange gruel that might've been pumpkin soup if you were very charitable with what you consider 'pumpkin' and 'soup'. I was surprised at how much food we were given. There must be some seriously impressive supply rooms on this ship, or more likely quite a lot of attendant supply ships around this one.
We did receive warm drinks, as promised, which came in the form of coffee, or recaff, as everyone else knew it. A very watered down and diluted coffee, but still coffee. Warm coffee. The others didn't seem as enthused as I was by it, but then again, they'd probably never had coffee like I had. I drank it all the same, even if it was shitty coffee. Coffee is coffee.
Alexei ordered us onwards precisely after ten minutes, and instead of getting free time like we were meant to, we were brought to the firing range once again. Sergeant Alexei told us it was to account for Desmond's absence, and to make up for time lost. None of us much liked that, but we all bore it with as much dignity as we could muster. Except for Desmond, who still complained. This time, there was no commissar, thankfully. Alexei had the guns distributed to us, and we were handed a handful of power cells and told to take our spots on the range.
Slotting the cell into the gun with a satisfying click, I took aim at the targets down the range. Alexei barked at us to fire only single shots, as per his order.
"Head!" Ten shots.
"Shoulders!" Ten shots.
"Arms!" Ten shots.
"Legs!" Ten shots.
"Head!" Ten shots.
He made us go throw the same exercises as yesterday, focusing on single shot precision at various ranges at various targets. He shouted his orders with mechanical efficiency, and we responded as best we could. This time, I was noticing more details about the squads shooting. When it came to firing quick, I was up there. I might've been the quickest (and, as it turns out, one of the most accurate to boot) in the squad, but I couldn't confirm it. We seemed to have a reasonable degree of accuracy as a whole, in that more of our shots hit then missed, but no one seemed to display any remarkable marksmanship. Then again, we hadn't really had the chance to show any skills off.
As the targets drew further and further back, our accuracy waned, but I resolved to do better, and found a marked improvement over yesterdays performance. As I got more comfortable with handling a gun, something I'd never done before, at least, not a real gun, I found I could hit targets with a reasonable degree of proficiency. Lasguns really weren't hard to aim. Once you knew how to line it up properly, it was simple to shoot at a stationary target from a fixed position. Another thing I had observed with the squad was how their performances typically waned heavily throughout the day. Whereas I could keep up roughly the same level of skill throughout the day, the squad's endurance seemed much worse than mine. I guess that if their poor health didn't show in individual tests, it did over time. As such, I was often one of the best in the squad by day's end, especially in matters of coordination like this.
It probably didn't help we'd all nearly frozen to death just an hour or so earlier.
I was also noticing that Desmond wasn't terrible at this. He wasn't a great shot, but he was, surprisingly, not the worst among us. He kept up a pretty good accuracy throughout the tests. If he was a nobleman, he probably went hunting with rifles from time to time. Might explain how he wasn't disgracing himself here.
Of course, Alexei never gave us a good review of our performance, especially when it came to weapons. For a Cadian, even our best probably wasn't up to par with their absolute worst. As such, every time we were put through a new challenge, whether it be more distant targets, moving targets, or variations of the Rush, he always punctuated his orders with demands that we do better, much to the amusement of the attendant Cadian's.
Sergeant Alexei kept pushing us as far as we could do, without giving any indication how we were doing. Prassus seemed to have figured out that endlessly firing wasn't the best trick, and Clauda had picked up her rate of fire. All of us struggled in the Rush, but we didn't let that stop us. We knew what we had to do.
"Be better," Alexei snapped from behind us. We swapped over to laspistols, which didn't really change much. I was marginally better today than I was yesterday, but not enough to satisfy me, or Alexei. He kept the drills randomised, so we didn't fall into a rhythm induced muscle-memory. He constantly kept us on our toes, changing the tests as soon as we finished one. Standing up. Lying down. Crouched. Moving targets. Stationary targets. Spinning targets. All of the above. They kept coming, he kept shouting at us, and we kept firing.
Eventually, we were ordered to stop, hand over our guns, and head off to unarmed training. Alexei told us we must do better. We didn't really care much at this point. A lot of us were too tired to continue, and we still had unarmed training to deal with.
How fun.
Once we got to the ring, handed our knives over, put on the gloves, and partnered up, we were straight into it. This time I was with Evet.
"Please don't break anything," she smiled, running a hand through her curly black hair. I nodded.
"I'll try not to," I said. Alexei was telling us to practise throws and sweeps, giving a demo run by tripping Desmond with a leg sweep. We took no small amount of satisfaction from seeing him flop onto his back, protesting the whole time.
"He's an idiot," Evet muttered, grabbing my arm. She tried for the throw, but couldn't quite manage it, small and slender as she was. Well, she isn't really that small, she was probably quite average, but she certainly looked small next to me.
"Oh, c'mon, what am I doing wrong?" she complained. She tried again, managing to lift me up this time, but she couldn't quite get the technique right.
"You have to put more force into it," I said, "like this," picking her up and throwing her over my shoulder. She gasped when I lifted her up, shouting out in protest as I flipped her onto the mat behind me. Gently as I could, of course.
"That wasn't funny," she muttered, getting up.
"It wasn't meant to be funny, it's meant to be a combat drill," I said. She just looked at me with a critical glare.
"C'mon, just try it again. All at once. You can lift me up, once my feet are off the ground you just need to keep going. If you stop, I can hold on," I said. "You have to do it quick."
"Why don't I just do a leg sweep instead?" she asked. I shrugged.
"Sure, go ahead," I said. Alexei was now demonstrating how to properly escape a chokehold and ordered us to try it ourselves.
"Looks like we'll have to change it up," she said. "Maybe tomorrow?"
"Yeah, tomorrow," I said. I had to lean down for Evet to reach my neck. She wrapped an arm around me, and I tucked my chin in to avoid her grabbing my throat.
"You know what to do if you're in this situation, yeah?" I asked. I could feel her hair brushing against mine as she shook her head.
"I didn't get it yesterday," she said. "I can't do this sort of stuff."
"You can, you just need to learn to use a bit more force, like this," I said, pulling her arm down and bending over, lifting her off her feet. I twisted around and dropped her on her side, causing her to let out a gasp as she landed on her back. She rolled her eyes.
"Guys always like to show off. You know it doesn't really impress a girl when you beat her up?"
"This really isn't beating you up," I replied lamely, embarrassed. I was showing off a little bit. "If it makes you feel better, try it with me."
Sure enough, Evet found it was much more fun to throw me off, a feat she could actually do when she could get me off my feet. Unfortunately, she found it very difficult to push my arm down, so most of the time she had to rely on knocking me off balance first before twisting to throw me off.
"Gotcha!" She cheered, when she at long last managed to pull me off her. I grinned and sprang back to my feet, clapping her hand. Sadly, we had to swap partners, and I was now with Egeers, who was quite hard to pin down. The skinny little dude would often wriggle out of any holds you could get him in. Fortunately, he didn't have any easier a time getting me off him then Evet did. In fact, he was a lot more uncoordinated then her, and couldn't really throw me off at all. He could somehow slip through, but he couldn't really throw me.
He was, however, very good at leg sweeps and kicks. He would've made a good soccer player, I reckoned.
We went through a few more partners. Burtrus, the only one who could match me in this stuff. Prassus, who could manage to throw me off when he knew what to do, and Temond, who, while he wasn't really especially strong or coordinated, never really gave up, even with a messed up ankle that he claimed was all fine. Dude was a stubborn one, that was for certain.
As we practised, I noticed whoever was with Desmond seemed to take great glee in messing him up. Prassus practically lifted him up in both arms and threw him to the ground like a wrestler. Clauda snuck in a few elbows here and there, winding him, and Burtrus 'accidentally' kicked Desmond in the knees. Twice.
However, sergeant Alexei soon enough told us we were done for the day, much to our relief. We were happy to be done. Tired, bruised, beaten, and thoroughly out of breath, it marked the end of yet another rigorous day of training. Alexei was silent as we found a spot in the mess hall and waited for diner, and none of the squad wanted to take. Diner was rice, vegetables, and a slab of fatty brown meat. We got a glass of orange juice alongside our water and the bowl of oranges was passed around once again. Alexei sipped from his glass of orange juice the whole time, reading something on a data-slate he'd seemingly procured from thin air.
Once we were done, Alexei escorted us back to our barracks, where we went through the usual procedure of undressing and showering together. Desmond was certainly very awkward, not only because he didn't want to be seen naked, but also because he kept staring at the girls with a lecherous grin half the time. This did not endear him to anyone, least of all the girls. Thankfully, he made no comments or gestures, but his unabashed staring, especially at Oleev, said a lot about what sort of person he was.
"Show some respect, man," Prassus muttered, slapping Desmond across the back of his head. Desmond turned to him angrily, but he didn't do anything. In fact, there wasn't much he could do about anything, since Egeers had stolen all his cleaning supplies on the very first day we got here.
"Fucking prick," Desmond muttered, throwing soap in Prassus eyes, but he just rubbed it away.
"You're the fucking prick here," Ratfinch said, brandishing his comb like a knife at Desmond. Clauda laughed.
"Uh, with a dick that small? I don't think his prick is doing much fucking," she said scornfully, and the rest of the girls snickered at him. Oof. A harsh, but not entirely inaccurate, assessment. Desmond didn't seem to appreciate this, and just stared directly at Clauda's chest, until she put a hand over her breasts, scoffing indignantly.
"You're really a loser, you know that, right?" she said, turning off the shower and storming out. The rest of the girls followed her. Desmond kept looking at their asses as they left.
"And yet I still get to see the good stuff!" He crowed after them. This guy was really out of touch. What an absolute dickhead.
"Pathetic," Egeers said, shaking his head and leaving with them.
"You need to learn some manners," I said, deciding enough was enough. I could see why no one liked him. He wasn't just an out of touch rich kid. He was a complete and total loser. A bully, a pervert, a smug, self-entitled asshole who thought he could get away with anything. Most of the time, he probably did.
"Manners? I need to learn some manners? Coming from a servant, that's ironic. You don't know manners! You should treat me with respect!" Desmond demanded. Prassus scoffed.
"Respect? What would you know of respect!" Prassus shouted.
"You're so out of touch its not even funny, mate," I said. Everyone else just shook their head at Desmond and left him in the showers once the hot water ran out. We dried ourselves off then joined the squad in the main room. There, the girls were giving an impassioned argument to Alexei, demanding he do something about Desmond. Alexei somehow managed to remain calm even though he was surrounded by three naked, and very angry, girls.
"Of course, such behaviour is deplorable, but unless it interferes with the squad's performance, I cannot discipline him without good cause," he was saying, but they weren't having any of that.
"Affecting our performance!? He's a creep!" Oleev shouted. Evet nodded along.
"I can't stand him," Clauda said, "and we're supposed to put up with him!"
Sergeant Alexei nodded sternly and ordered them back. They all reluctantly stepped back to their beds. Desmond still hadn't left the showers, but no doubt he could hear what was being said. As if he didn't know already. Did he even care though?
"Over time, such a behaviour will be broken down. Over time, such behaviour will wilt and die. You must trust me to instil discipline into you. Into him. If you cannot endure his conduct, what does that say for your ability to endure a firefight? If you find this environment inhospitable, what does that say about you? No, you must learn to overcome it, just as he must learn to overcome his weakness of character."
Damn. That was cold. None of the girls seemed to appreciate it, but they could see they were going to get nowhere arguing with Alexei. Eventually, Desmond sauntered out of the showers, and was immediately met with the cold glares of an entire room. No one seemed happy to see him, even Alexei, who just regarded him with a stony glare the whole time. Desmond's bed was between Evets and Burtrus, which pleased neither of them, least of all Evet.
"You must learn how to overcome whatever problem faces you," Alexei began, looking clearly at Desmond, then scanning the room. Desmond kept his face down but snuck furtive glances of the girls whenever he could. They just sneered back whenever Alexei wasn't looking. He really was a disgusting person.
"You must learn how to be better. Not just on the field, but as a person. The Emperor did not intend for his Imperial Guard to be filled with wretches and scum, the lowest classes of humanity, the scum of mankind, no, he intended it to be filled with strong, courageous, brave, honourable men and women. Exemplars of the capability of mankind, pure in heart, body and soul," he said loudly, marching back and forth down the rows.
"You must become these people. You must become the best versions of yourselves. All of you. You must rise above your failings, your weakness, your dishonours," he said, stopping in front of Desmond before moving on, "and grow to be something more. The Imperial Guard defends humanity, troopers. It cannot defend humanity if it is not the best of humanity. You must learn to grow. Become better. Become who you were always meant to be," sergeant Alexei stopped at the end of the room. He stared us all down, eyeing us with his birdlike eyes. What did he see, when he looked at us? What did he want to see?
"You will be better," he said finally, and then left, slamming the door behind him.
"You're a real fucking loser, you know that, right?" Oleev shouted, a few moments after he left, immediately covering herself up. Before, it was rare anyone covered themselves up, but with Desmond here, none of the girls were keen on remaining naked any longer then they had to. Desmond just shrugged, grinning at some joke only he could find funny.
"What an asshole," Egeers muttered, wrapping himself in blankets and covering his face with his pillow.
"Yeah, learn to be better," Ratfinch hissed, this time pointing his real knife at Desmond, who seemed unperturbed, shrugging as he patted his pillow down. He'd bundled up his spare blanket below it to prop it up, and sat down with a blissful smile on his face, ignoring the hostile room. Someone needed to break him, sooner or later, or else No one stayed up long. Everyone fell asleep swiftly, exhausted and tired from today's training, pushed to their limits.
That night, I dreamt of dark waters, endless tunnels, and a face made of bone with eyes of red smoke. The water surrounded me, and everywhere I turned, I could see that bony face. The red eyes followed me, smoke pouring from glowing sockets, until the water consumed even that, and left me alone in an endless stygian abyss of pure darkness. Only the water remained. Only the endless water.
Authors Notes:
Here's this week's instalment! I'm glad to see people are happy with waiting, and that you're so receptive to the characters so far. We'll get some interesting stuff happen in the next few weeks, and then, we'll…that's when things will get really exciting.
But we've also got some clues of what's going on in the wider galaxy. There are other hints scattered throughout the story of where things might go, but this is the first overt hint at what direction the story might be taking.
I hope you stick around to see it.