Chapter 38: Week 2
Day nine.
Nine days since I woke up on a Valkyrie heading into orbit. Nine days since I was recruited into the Imperial Guard. Nine days I'd been separated from my home, from my friends, from my family. Nine days.
In nine days I'd been pushed to the point of collapse, learned how to fire a gun, almost drowned, met quite a large number of people who may actually be crazy, been drugged, had my mind probed, and just generally gone through all manner of miserable and unpleasant shit.
Sometimes quite literally, when it came to cleaning the toilets. I swear, the first rank that can get other people to clean toilets is the rank I'm going to be aiming for. Assuming I don't die first.
Day nine marked the beginning of proper training, as Sergeant Alexei described it. I wasn't looking forward to it. I don't think anyone was, except perhaps Egeers, but we all put on a good show. Everyone but Desmond, but I'd gotten used to his constant complaining. He was just saying everything I was thinking, after all.
The routine was the same as usual, wake up, clean, shower, clean, dress, breakfast. We had all fallen into the pattern by now. Sergeant Alexei had less and less complaints about our uniform and he seemed to find our room at least somewhat acceptable. We had plenty of time to get it right, after all.
The routine changed when Alexei bypassed our usual entrance to the training area and took us down a different path. Rather then enter into the maze of dirt and concrete that was the obstacle courses, we were heading towards the more structured, and open, yards that sat alongside the edge of the tank training area.
"This is the proper infantry training area, not those courses and challenges," Alexei told us, "where you will begin your proper training. Remember, pay attention. It is critical you learn as much as you can," he said.
We all nodded dutifully. Alexei took us into one of the yards, which was ringed by huge concrete walls. Each yard was a large, mostly open area, with three concrete walls several metres tall dividing them from the next one. Our yard already had a squad in it.
A squad of Cadians.
"Keep your heads up, eyes straight, that's our lieutenant right there," Alexei said as we entered, nodding towards the man at the head of the squad.
Alright, so this is Alexei's immediate superior? Interesting.
"Sergeant Alexei, punctual as always. This is the squad? They seem like they've already got some steel whipped into them," the platoon commander said. It was hard to tell his age, honestly. He was a grizzled man with a grey beard and a lot of scars. He had no visible cybernetics, but it wouldn't surprise me if he had a mechanical hand or foot. His eyes were the same purple hue as every Cadian I'd seen.
"Reporting for duty, sir," Alexei replied, snapping to attention. We followed suite. The Cadians chuckled behind the lieutenant.
"At ease," he said. Alexei relaxed, but only slightly. We did likewise.
"Sergeant, I know you're not happy with this merger, believe me, neither am I, but you know as well as I do the necessity of adding extra bodies to our regiment, so let's make sure we do a good job of that, eh? I'd like to meet your squad, tell me a little about them, please?"
"Yes, lieutenant Quentin," Alexei said meaningfully. So, his name was Quentin. Good to know.
"This squad has performed adequately, given their background. Higher then average performance in-"
"Damn it, Alexei, I'm not asking about their performance, I'll see that for myself, I'm asking about them, the people, who are they, what are they like?" Quentin said. He seemed to be the opposite of Alexei so far, far more personable and talkative. Alexei had never once expressed any interest in getting to know us over this week. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was insistent on not getting to know us at all.
"I can send the necessary personnel files to you tonight, sir," Alexei said after a long pause. Lieutenant Quentin just shook his head and turned to address us.
"You, what's your name?" He said, looking at Prassus.
"Uh, it's Prassus, sir," he said slowly. Quentin nodded.
"And what did you do before you came here?"
"I was a farmer, sir," Prassus replied. Quentin nodded.
"And what do you find the easiest in your training?" The lieutenant asked. Prassus thought for a moment before answering.
"Strength training, sir."
"Yes, one look and I could tell that. You, what about you? Name, former occupation, what you find easy," he said looking at me.
"I'm Sent, I was a worker, and I find swimming easy," I said. Quentin nodded, and made his way down the line, getting to know a little bit about everyone. He seemed to be paying attention too, like he was actually serious about learning who we were. Maybe he was the sort of commander who actually inspired his troops to follow him? I would certainly hope so.
"Right, that's that. Honestly, Alexei, was it that hard?" Lieutenant Quentin snapped, running a hand through his beard.
"Now, where are the others at?" He huffed, looking around expectantly. Sergeant Alexei just stood there silently, grimacing.
"If only they were half as punctual as you, Alexei," Quentin muttered.
Eventually, the other squads filtered in one by one. Sergeant Andermark and his Practicans, Sergeant Dominika with her men, and a few others I had never seen before. It looked like the platoon was made up of eight squads, three of which were Cadian. Lieutenant Quentin clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.
"Good to see everyone can show up roughly on time," he barked, "but we don't have time to waste to begin with! We've been given four months to get ready for our next deployment, and we've been a whole heap of untrained soldiers to turn into proper Guardsman before then. Now, I don't know about you, but that seems like a rather tall order, even for us, but we're gonna do it. I'm not going to waste time standing around and running my mouth, I'm going to push you lot right into it. So, drop, and give me as many push-ups as you can. Last man, or woman, to drop gets off one cleaning duty for the day. So, drop, and give 'em to me. GO, GO, GO!"
Wow, that was a quick change of pace. One moment he's friendly and talkative, the next he's full on drill sergeant. Dropping to the ground, I started counting out my push-ups. I noticed that the squad sergeants were doing them as well.
Five, six, seven. This wasn't hard.
"Now, you lot may wandering how I intend to turn you into soldiers. Well, the answer is simple. Hard, hard work. I'm going to push you until you break, and then push you some more!" Quentin roared. Hmm, this sounds eerily similar to what Alexei told us yesterday. Was that him giving us a heads-up? Then again, he told us about this very early on. I can't see we weren't warned.
Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. Push through it.
"We have a busy schedule ahead of us, don't we?" Quentin asked, and the sergeants shouted their agreement.
"You think because you've handled a gun and run some courses you have what it takes to be a soldier?" Quentin roared, marching down the rows of squads.
"You!" He shouted, kneeling in front of a random soldier. "Do you think you have what it takes?"
"Sir, yes, sir," they grunted. Lieutenant Quentin shook his head.
"Do you? Do you really? Do you have the strength to destroy the enemies of mankind?" He bellowed in their face. They nodded.
"If you can't even speak to me, how can you fight the enemies of mankind!?" He roared. They were going red in the face. Quentin shook his head and moved along.
"You lot don't understand, you don't understand something we Cadian's have known since our childhood. There is more to being a soldier then uniforms, and guns, and following orders! Being a soldier isn't about shooting things and blowing shit up! That's what it may be on some worlds, but not Cadia! Being a soldier isn't about fancy dresses and pretty uniforms! That's what it may be on some worlds, but not on Cadia! Being a soldier isn't about being the biggest, toughest guy in the room! That's what it may be on some worlds, but not Cadia! Being a soldier isn't about orders and commands and a willingness to die because some fancy-pants officer orders it! It may be on some worlds, BUT NOT CADIA! Being a soldier is a state of mind, a state of being! It is about focusing your whole existence, body, mind, and soul, to one goal, and one goal only, VICTORY! VICTORY IS THE GOAL, THE ONLY GOAL THAT MATTERS!"
The Imperial Guard really did like its speeches. Everyone was so…fanatical. Then again, that was by design. Everyone in the Imperium was a fanatic.
Thirty six, thirty seven, thirty eight.
I heard Desmond drop to the ground, groaning. Lieutenant Quentin didn't seem to notice, or care. I heard people muttering behind me, telling him to get up. He only groaned louder in protest.
Forty four, forty five, forty six.
Someone else dropped in another squad, but I still had some energy left in me. Quite a bit, it felt like. One week of hard training had already made me feel stronger and tougher than before. I'd keep going until I was literally unable to push myself off the ground.
"Victory is the only thing we are concerned about in the Guard, and you don't win just because you've killed the enemy in front of you or ran off to die on some pointless field because that's what you were told to do, no, you win by completely, totally dominating the battlefield, by crushing evidence of the enemies existence before you, by erasing their very existence from the universe. If you are dead, you cannot do that! Death by itself is not glorious, death in service is! And your service has but one duty…VICTORY!"
Mentally, I was thinking this seemed to clash with a lot of what the Imperium preached about dying valiantly, but then again, they had to draw a line between death in battle and suicide by enemy fire, I guess. However, most of me was too focused on keeping my head down and pushing through the push-ups to focus on what he was saying.
Sixty three, sixty four, sixty five. I was still going.
Some others had dropped around us, but at least half our squad was still going. Prassus was sweating just as much as me, but Clauda was still going strong. In other squads, it looked just as bad. Only the Cadian's were still going strong, with nary a sign of weakness among them.
"Keep going," I heard Alexei whisper to us, "don't stop. The first squad to be out entirely will be punished."
Well, that's certainly an encouragement to go on. I didn't want to be punished. Most definitely not.
"Do you have what it takes to be a soldier?" Lieutenant Quentin appeared before me, roaring in my face. I nodded.
"Sir, yes, sir," I managed. Quentin looked unimpressed, kneeling down to look me in the eye.
"DO YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKES!?"
"Sir, yes, sir. Glory to the Emperor, glory to the Imperium. Purge the mutant, the alien, and the heretic!" I shouted back. Quentin still looked unimpressed, but at least he nodded. I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, until I felt a heavy weight push down on my back. The lieutenant was stepping on me with his boot!
Groaning under the pressure, I struggled to lift myself up. I could hear a few snickers coming from the Cadians. I'm sure this was great fun for them to watch, seeing the new guys get tormented. It certainly wasn't fun for me. It felt like being crushed under an anvil.
"Do you really have what it takes, Private Sent?" He challenged. Oh, so he remembers me? That's good to know. That means he can single me out. How wonderful. Groaning under the pressure, I forced my way through another few push-ups. I was reaching eighty, and my limit was fast approaching. I could see Clauda out of the corner of my eye, still going, silently urging me to continue.
"Sir…yes…sir," I managed through strangled breaths. The weight and pressure increased. Damn, it felt like he was crushing my spine!
"Do you have what it takes?" He said, leaning down to whisper it in my ear. I nodded, grunting as he pushed harder, knocking me to the floor before I could complete enough push-up.
"I do, sir," I managed, red in the face, coated in sweat, muscles burning throughout my body. I felt hot and tingly, the unpleasant strain of overexertion, the sting of weakening limbs and the shuddering sensation of strength leaving your body. I wavered, trying to push myself up. If he kept the weight there, I couldn't do it. If I couldn't keep going, I'd fail, with everyone's eyes open me. I had to do it, I had to. But…it was so…hard.
Just as I was about to give in, the weight receded, and I could manage to lift myself up, painfully, slowly, and with a rather embarrassing grunt of effort, but I succeeded. I lifted myself up, off the ground, and held it there, before falling back down.
Lieutenant Quentin grunted.
"You may say you do, but I don't see it," he said, turning back to the rest of us. "You must push HARDER!"
Groaning, I tried to lift myself up again, but I couldn't manage it. I was out. Prassus collapsed shortly after me, and soon it was just Clauda and Alexei going at it. Clauda faltered and failed somewhere in the mid-one hundreds, and Alexei stopped around the two hundred mark. Thanks to them, we weren't the first (or second) squad out. Once it got into the hundreds, only the Cadian's kept going. We had done well by Practican standards, but we were a long way off the Cadian's. Very, very far off.
And over the coming weeks, I'd find out just how far apart we really were.