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Chapter 2: Training
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How could Garb have done this to him? That bastard. Floyd was going to get even someday, and he was going to see that backstabber burn in hell. He glanced to his right.
This is the quarters for the 8-Blues, so the training facility should be the next door down on the right. He reached the door to the training facility. He had passed this door so many times before, always glad he wasn't going through it. Now he was.
It seemed odd that there was a training facility onboard a battleship, but apparently it did a good job, or else it would be gone. Floyd stood in front of the door and the computer recognized him. "Place your palm on the sensor pad to your right," the computer ordered in a feminine voice. Floyd had already done so. The door whisked open, and the computer made a beep sound. "Access granted, Private Floyd."
Private Floyd.
Floyd walked into the training room and the door whisked close again behind him. He looked around, seeing the inside of the training center for the first time. The facility wasn't exactly as the rumors described, but was still frightening in its own way. There was the outer area that served as a waiting room, and then there was the small section in the center, where the actual training took place. The windows on the walls of the small center chamber were tinted from the outside, but absolutely reflective on the inside. There were people in uniforms that monitored the trainees' performances, and provided occasional medical help, called 'monitors'.
Floyd walked up to a window not being used by the monitors and peeked in. The room seemed barren, dark, and relatively small. A trainee was standing inside with standard marine armor and Gauss rifle. The actual training process hadn't begun. Floyd felt a tap on his right shoulder, and he turned around. One of the training monitors was pointing towards two trainees sitting in a corner of the room. Floyd walked over.
They were chuckling as they turned around to see Floyd. One of them said "Hey, man. My name's Kirby Borsen. Did you just join up?"
Floyd started to answer, then caught himself. "Yeah. Just joined. I from the science vessel near here," he lied. "My name Tark Floyd." He sat down in one of the seats, and realized how much this battleship cared about a marine's comfort. He dreaded finding out how the quarters looked.
The other man snickered, "Haha, I see why they put you in as a marine. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, are we? Did you go to grammar school? I think-"
He was cut off by Kirby, "Shut up, jackass. He chose to be a marine." Kirby looked at Floyd. "Right?"
Floyd nodded, "Yes, I figure I shoot Zerg up good." This was getting sad, but it was too late to try to regain his old position now. He was going to be a marine.
"Right on, that's an attitude. We'll send those zerg to hell." Kirby grinned.
Gunfire was heard from inside the smaller room where Floyd had seen the suited trainee. Floyd could've sworn he heard a zergling cry out and fall over. The smaller room's door opened, and the newly trained marine walked out. A monitor nodded to the marine and he walked out of the facility.
"Well, that's been two successfully trained marines for our squad. Who's next? If no one else wants to go, I will." Kirby stated.
Floyd nodded to Kirby, "You go. Good luck, friend."
Kirby chuckled and responded, "Nah, I don't need luck. If I've got a gun and armor, I can handle anything they throw at me." He walked over to be fitted with his equipment.
The man that had insulted Floyd apologized, "Sorry about before, I'm just kinda mad that they sent me here. I thought I was gonna be a corporal. I'm Frank. Frank Grado." He extended his hand toward Floyd. Floyd took it and shook it, smiling.
"It fine. I admit my speech sucks. But it psychological thing." He then turned back around to see Kirby walk into the small room.
Frank nodded, then mumbled, "I wonder what happens in there.. Do they send a real 'ling at ya or somethin'? Man, that'd be rough."
After a few seconds, gunfire was heard once more. A human scream rang out from inside the room. Floyd grimaced. A monitor chuckled as a full-fledged marine walked out of the chamber, unharmed. He was laughing.
Kirby walked back over to Floyd. "Did I scare ya? Hahaha.."
"Heh. Your scream fake?" Floyd asked.
Kirby responded, "Yep. They sent a real 'ling at me, but he was injured already. I dodged the thing as it lunged at me, then smacked the sonofabitch on its noggin." A monitor told him to proceed to his quarters. "Okay, cya soon Floyd."
Floyd waved, "Bye."
As Kirby was walking out, a wide-eyed woman brushed past him. "Is this the training facility?" she asked, looking at Floyd.
"Yes." Floyd answered, not sounding stupid, for once.
The woman sighed, relieved, and sat down as Frank got up to go into the chamber. "Wish me luck, buddy," he said to Floyd. The woman looked down at the floor, nervous.
"Good luck, friend. Go kill zergling." Floyd smiled.
Frank nodded, "Will do." He walked over to the fitters.
Floyd turned to the woman. "Hi. So, you going to be in my squad.."
She looked away from the floor and to Floyd, "Yeah. Er.. My name's Jenn." She looked slightly scared.
Floyd nodded, "My name Tark Floyd. I came from nearby science vessel."
"Oh." She looked back down at the floor.
"You nervous as I am? I hope I don't screw up." He twiddled his fingers.
Gunfire. A zergling scream. A human yelp.
Floyd turned around and looked at the area where the small chamber was. A monitor was opening the seal, running in with a med-pack. After a few seconds, Frank walked out of the chamber, out of breath. His armor had a dent in it, but he seemed to be okay.
"Man, he almost got me. Just a few more inches, and.." Frank trailed off. The monitor who had healed him walked out of the chamber and told him to move on. Frank nodded to Floyd, then walked out.
Floyd stood up, trying to gather up his courage.
"Good luck," Jenn said.
"Thanks," Floyd responded. He walked over and one of the fitters took a few measurements then barked a double-digit number at the other fitter, who went to get a piece of armor. The first fitter picked up a gauss rifle, loaded it, and waited. The other fitter came back with a set of armor, which Floyd quickly slipped on. He put on his helmet and was handed his rifle. This was it.
He stepped into the chamber and the door was sealed behind him. He looked at all of the mirrors nervously. He heard a lurch of machinery, as if something was being shifted. Then silence. Floyd got into a ready stance, and stared at the door at the opposite end of the chamber. There was a whoosh of air, and the door opened.
What?! A hydra?? Floyd fired into its gut, but it seemed unscratched. It reared its head back, preparing to spit, but Floyd was ready, and he rolled to his left as the hydra flung its acid, missing. Floyd fired at the back of its head twice, as it turned around, preparing to spit again. Floyd jumped over it as it spit, missing him by 2 inches. He then jumped onto the hydralisk's back and fired repeatedly into it. It brought its claws back to swipe at him, but he dodged the blind strikes. The hydralisk soon fell.
Danger. The hydralisk. Hydralisk? It's dead.
Floyd looked down, breathing heavily, and kicked the hydralisk. The door he had come in through opened once again. A monitor checked him to see if he was hurt, then dragged the hydralisk's corpse over to a chute. Another monitor shook his head, approaching Floyd.
"Your reflexes are unbelievable, soldier. You're going to be the leader of your squad, understand?" The monitor placed a badge on Floyd's chest. "Only five percent of the trainees that face hydralisks survive. Congratulations. You're dismissed."
Floyd began making his way to the 8-Blues' quarters. Wow. Five percent? What just happened there? Why did they pick him to- Oh. Captain McGonnerson had undoubtedly ordered them to make him the one to face a hydra. Floyd snickered at what the captain's reaction would be when he discovered that he had survived. Floyd touched the badge just below his left shoulder. Things were going better than he expected.
Chapter 2: Training
-------------
How could Garb have done this to him? That bastard. Floyd was going to get even someday, and he was going to see that backstabber burn in hell. He glanced to his right.
This is the quarters for the 8-Blues, so the training facility should be the next door down on the right. He reached the door to the training facility. He had passed this door so many times before, always glad he wasn't going through it. Now he was.
It seemed odd that there was a training facility onboard a battleship, but apparently it did a good job, or else it would be gone. Floyd stood in front of the door and the computer recognized him. "Place your palm on the sensor pad to your right," the computer ordered in a feminine voice. Floyd had already done so. The door whisked open, and the computer made a beep sound. "Access granted, Private Floyd."
Private Floyd.
Floyd walked into the training room and the door whisked close again behind him. He looked around, seeing the inside of the training center for the first time. The facility wasn't exactly as the rumors described, but was still frightening in its own way. There was the outer area that served as a waiting room, and then there was the small section in the center, where the actual training took place. The windows on the walls of the small center chamber were tinted from the outside, but absolutely reflective on the inside. There were people in uniforms that monitored the trainees' performances, and provided occasional medical help, called 'monitors'.
Floyd walked up to a window not being used by the monitors and peeked in. The room seemed barren, dark, and relatively small. A trainee was standing inside with standard marine armor and Gauss rifle. The actual training process hadn't begun. Floyd felt a tap on his right shoulder, and he turned around. One of the training monitors was pointing towards two trainees sitting in a corner of the room. Floyd walked over.
They were chuckling as they turned around to see Floyd. One of them said "Hey, man. My name's Kirby Borsen. Did you just join up?"
Floyd started to answer, then caught himself. "Yeah. Just joined. I from the science vessel near here," he lied. "My name Tark Floyd." He sat down in one of the seats, and realized how much this battleship cared about a marine's comfort. He dreaded finding out how the quarters looked.
The other man snickered, "Haha, I see why they put you in as a marine. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, are we? Did you go to grammar school? I think-"
He was cut off by Kirby, "Shut up, jackass. He chose to be a marine." Kirby looked at Floyd. "Right?"
Floyd nodded, "Yes, I figure I shoot Zerg up good." This was getting sad, but it was too late to try to regain his old position now. He was going to be a marine.
"Right on, that's an attitude. We'll send those zerg to hell." Kirby grinned.
Gunfire was heard from inside the smaller room where Floyd had seen the suited trainee. Floyd could've sworn he heard a zergling cry out and fall over. The smaller room's door opened, and the newly trained marine walked out. A monitor nodded to the marine and he walked out of the facility.
"Well, that's been two successfully trained marines for our squad. Who's next? If no one else wants to go, I will." Kirby stated.
Floyd nodded to Kirby, "You go. Good luck, friend."
Kirby chuckled and responded, "Nah, I don't need luck. If I've got a gun and armor, I can handle anything they throw at me." He walked over to be fitted with his equipment.
The man that had insulted Floyd apologized, "Sorry about before, I'm just kinda mad that they sent me here. I thought I was gonna be a corporal. I'm Frank. Frank Grado." He extended his hand toward Floyd. Floyd took it and shook it, smiling.
"It fine. I admit my speech sucks. But it psychological thing." He then turned back around to see Kirby walk into the small room.
Frank nodded, then mumbled, "I wonder what happens in there.. Do they send a real 'ling at ya or somethin'? Man, that'd be rough."
After a few seconds, gunfire was heard once more. A human scream rang out from inside the room. Floyd grimaced. A monitor chuckled as a full-fledged marine walked out of the chamber, unharmed. He was laughing.
Kirby walked back over to Floyd. "Did I scare ya? Hahaha.."
"Heh. Your scream fake?" Floyd asked.
Kirby responded, "Yep. They sent a real 'ling at me, but he was injured already. I dodged the thing as it lunged at me, then smacked the sonofabitch on its noggin." A monitor told him to proceed to his quarters. "Okay, cya soon Floyd."
Floyd waved, "Bye."
As Kirby was walking out, a wide-eyed woman brushed past him. "Is this the training facility?" she asked, looking at Floyd.
"Yes." Floyd answered, not sounding stupid, for once.
The woman sighed, relieved, and sat down as Frank got up to go into the chamber. "Wish me luck, buddy," he said to Floyd. The woman looked down at the floor, nervous.
"Good luck, friend. Go kill zergling." Floyd smiled.
Frank nodded, "Will do." He walked over to the fitters.
Floyd turned to the woman. "Hi. So, you going to be in my squad.."
She looked away from the floor and to Floyd, "Yeah. Er.. My name's Jenn." She looked slightly scared.
Floyd nodded, "My name Tark Floyd. I came from nearby science vessel."
"Oh." She looked back down at the floor.
"You nervous as I am? I hope I don't screw up." He twiddled his fingers.
Gunfire. A zergling scream. A human yelp.
Floyd turned around and looked at the area where the small chamber was. A monitor was opening the seal, running in with a med-pack. After a few seconds, Frank walked out of the chamber, out of breath. His armor had a dent in it, but he seemed to be okay.
"Man, he almost got me. Just a few more inches, and.." Frank trailed off. The monitor who had healed him walked out of the chamber and told him to move on. Frank nodded to Floyd, then walked out.
Floyd stood up, trying to gather up his courage.
"Good luck," Jenn said.
"Thanks," Floyd responded. He walked over and one of the fitters took a few measurements then barked a double-digit number at the other fitter, who went to get a piece of armor. The first fitter picked up a gauss rifle, loaded it, and waited. The other fitter came back with a set of armor, which Floyd quickly slipped on. He put on his helmet and was handed his rifle. This was it.
He stepped into the chamber and the door was sealed behind him. He looked at all of the mirrors nervously. He heard a lurch of machinery, as if something was being shifted. Then silence. Floyd got into a ready stance, and stared at the door at the opposite end of the chamber. There was a whoosh of air, and the door opened.
What?! A hydra?? Floyd fired into its gut, but it seemed unscratched. It reared its head back, preparing to spit, but Floyd was ready, and he rolled to his left as the hydra flung its acid, missing. Floyd fired at the back of its head twice, as it turned around, preparing to spit again. Floyd jumped over it as it spit, missing him by 2 inches. He then jumped onto the hydralisk's back and fired repeatedly into it. It brought its claws back to swipe at him, but he dodged the blind strikes. The hydralisk soon fell.
Danger. The hydralisk. Hydralisk? It's dead.
Floyd looked down, breathing heavily, and kicked the hydralisk. The door he had come in through opened once again. A monitor checked him to see if he was hurt, then dragged the hydralisk's corpse over to a chute. Another monitor shook his head, approaching Floyd.
"Your reflexes are unbelievable, soldier. You're going to be the leader of your squad, understand?" The monitor placed a badge on Floyd's chest. "Only five percent of the trainees that face hydralisks survive. Congratulations. You're dismissed."
Floyd began making his way to the 8-Blues' quarters. Wow. Five percent? What just happened there? Why did they pick him to- Oh. Captain McGonnerson had undoubtedly ordered them to make him the one to face a hydra. Floyd snickered at what the captain's reaction would be when he discovered that he had survived. Floyd touched the badge just below his left shoulder. Things were going better than he expected.