Glein
Vaigarin Elder
- Joined
- Nov 3, 2021
- Messages
- 45
- Reaction score
- 15
UNKNOWN - Hassan (UNKNOWN COORDINATES) [110 Anno ante Exodum]
Eridani Republic Genemod Training Center C14 - Training Week 36 (Day 1 [Recovery])
"Those Gods forsaken fucking dressed up monkeys!" Hissed Lyan Virtia, callsign One-Eye, slamming their fist into the wall of the barracks. She was a fully anthropomorphic fox-mod, with a rich red fur and vulpine face, and both eyes despite the callsign. It was reinforced, hardened and built to withstand such things, owing that every single person in this part of the base were genemods, and thus capable of denting normal steel plates if they were used as walls. She had a bandage on her arm, with a rich red spot on it. The digital desert camouflage with its six colors, jokingly called 'digichip' pants were fresh, unlike her fur, which was matted and coated in gods knew what.
"Calm yourself Lyan. I know it's bullshit. You know it's bullshit. They know it's bullshit." Said Fredrick Excalibre, callsign Two-Tone, looking up from the bundle of tags he had in his hand at the fox mod who had just spoken. He was mostly human but for the fox features, though his fur was a mish-mash of red and black. "It won't bring them back." He said, lifting the tags in his hand for emphasis. "We know the Republic policy on deaths in the training program. We keep the tags, they recyc the bodies." He said, venom in his voice at the consideration that they were worth almost nothing. Just biomatter to be recycled if 'damaged'.
"We lost Louis, Jessica, Ashley, Nick, and Greg on my end alone." Sophia Brookmire, callsign Soap, mused, not wanting to look at the tags in question. She was a mostly human fox-mod with blond fur, but two tails. There were 17 tags in Two-Tone's hand, and there had been 4 'platoons' in the last op. They were actually running 'light' on the dead compared to the norm. And that was a very cold comfort when one considered that they had time bombs in their heads anyways. 2 years after training. That was their life, if they survived.
They had 643 dead thus far. Out of a thousand. "You think they're just gonna up the threat going forward? Try and get us back to the norm?" Asked another foxmod, the last of the 'platoon' leaders. Zeus von Graf, callsign Blast. The three of the other mods looked at the large hulk of a fox mod, standing nearly at the upper limit on every possible category that was possible for fox-mods in the training. With a dark reddish color to his fur, also anthropomorphic, but also built like a tank and muscled like he could bench press one.
"Why not? We're breaking their precious 'curve' of training and results. They're gonna find new ways to fuck us." Sophia replied, remaining on the bed and just staring up at the ceiling. "We're disposable after all." She finished, hate deep in her eyes as she looked at the harshly brutalist tiles above, only broken up by the safety measures and the lights. She didn't need to continue that line of thought. They all knew it anyway. Hell, the only reason they had the tags in the first place was because their handlers thought it 'cute' the weapons wanted something to remember the 'waste' with. Nearly all of them hated the Eridani Army officers with a passion because of it.
"Easy Sophia. We're all hurting, but we're used to this hurt. And we know that the war can't go on forever. Who knows, maybe we'll get deployed and can find someone to pull the bombs out of our heads." Zeus said, smiling. He wasn't stupid, or simple. He was insanely intelligent and perceptive. But he also had yet to have his humor or his joy stamped out by the training. And the mind and eyes were vital with his specialty, since he was the Division explosives expert. Maybe that's why he was so easy going. Screwing up in his field had higher chances of him not walking away than any other.
"Easy for you to say Zeus! You only lost Harriet!" Sophia snapped back, finally tearing her gaze from the roof to look at her fellows.
"Zeus! Sophia! Enough!" Frederick snapped in turn, pointing a finger at the two. Zeus raised his hands in a placating fashion, while Soap huffed and rolled to her side on the bed, feigning going to sleep. Sighing, Frederick spoke again. "We're going to keep going. And we'll do as we promised. We'll find our peace out there, in the world. And whoever wakes first will carry our friends forward. To show to them that we made it." He said. Sophia huffed from where she lay. She was sure the others glared at her, but she didn't care. She couldn't. Caring got her hurt. Left her with holes she couldn't fill. And she was tired of having new holes made.
Fuck this sentimental bullshit. She'd harden herself and avoid the pain that came from losing friends and family like the whole unit was. She was Soap. Not Sophia. She'd never be normal, never. And she'd make sure that the hurt and the pain would be buried. Forever.
UNKNOWN - Hassan (UNKNOWN COORDINATES) [110 Anno ante Exodum]
Eridani Republic Genemod Training Center C14 - Training Week 39 (Day 5 [Training])
Yet another day of grueling training greeted the foxmods. Getting yelled at. Told to run or perform push ups. Carry their gear from point A to point B. Engage this figure at this range.
The same shit they've been doing for months now. And it was always the same level of brutality. Because if it wasn't, it was unlikely they'd make it through the live fire exercise tomorrow. At least, that was the logic they were given.
Soap hefted the massive rucksack onto her back yet again, adjusting it with a couple of quick hops to settle it properly onto the shoulder straps of her body armor. As she was the scout platoon leader of the Division, she had to be able to carry enough supplies by herself for a 2 week deployment ahead of the rest of the Division. "Everyone ready? Tag, make sure the radio's actually fucking secured this time." She stated, before fixing her gaze on the man next to her who was settling a similar ruck onto his back as Soap had, which was pressing against a large oversized radio unit that was intended to provide comms between platoons, and if needed, higher. Sure, it could reach theatre level channels, but they weren't allowed to touch those frequencies.
Tag, chosen name Nicholas Rastput, grunted. "Yeah yeah, I know. You don't have to get all pissy at me. I know Jessica was your RTO forever, but you don't have to treat me like I'm stupid." He replied, snapping back at her.
"You've had the job three weeks. She had it 36. Forgive me for worrying about getting fucked in the ass by the damned monkey's." She said, jabbing a thumb up at the observation room glass overlooking the armory as they all geared up for a 'field patrol' exercise. There was an unspoken rule amongst the Division not to antagonize the training officers or the observers, but that was one rule Soap had begun to actively break in the last week.
"Right." Tag replied, shaking his head as he settled the rifle across his chest on its strap and settled in to wait. He had plenty he wanted to say to Soap, but kept his mouth shut to avoid pissing her off more. She'd started to, well, lose it since Jessica died. He knew the pair had been close, probably enough that they'd been bed buddies. After all, the way Soap was, there was no way she wasn't gay to some degree.
"Listen up foxes. This is an 18 hour patrol. You will start here, and climb the generated environment to secure a path through the mountain. When done, you'll return and deposit your equipment. 8 hours after you return, you'll proceed to brief for tomorrow's exercise." Came the heavily distorted voice of the instructor above them, the distortion doing little to hide the sneer in the person's voice as they spoke down to the little 'weapons' they'd produced.
Medusa Expanse - Sirris II, Sanctuary System [60 Anno post Exodum]
Obsidian City (Space Port - MV 'Fallen Shrine')
Soap found herself sitting at her desk in her cabin again, holding the tag that merely read FM-164AARD-0982. With a wane smile, she put it back into the toolbox, looking at the photo taped to the top of it. "Sorry Blast... I ain't found a place to be at peace yet. The others have... But I'm too broken. And I don't think I'll ever find it." She mused aloud, reaching into her t-shirt, and pulling out the pair of tags that hung around her own neck. They were identical, one was just intended to be ripped off her corpse if she were to die.
164th Eridarndia Air Assault Reconnaissance Division
FM-164AARD-0736
That was all the text read. Her unit, and her individual identification number. Foxmod, for the 164th, and she was 'unit' 736 of 1000. There was a chip of course in the tag, that held more data, but it was barebones to begin with, since the Republic didn't exactly see its genemods as anything more than cannon fodder. Now it was gone, but here she was. In that dreamed about peace they all wanted... And unable to find any for herself. One-Eye had a wife and was trying for a kid on Tortuga, Frederick had become an Instructor at the NDC Military Academy... But Zeus? She could feel her breath hitching a moment as she remembered it.
UNKNOWN - Hassan (UNKNOWN COORDINATES) [110 Anno ante Exodum]
Eridani Republic Genemod Training Center C14 - Training Week 42 (Day 7 [Live-Fire Training Operation])
"SOAP!" Zeus called out, hurrying through the hail of fire as he ran towards her, making her snap her head towards the sound and her eyes widening.
"NO!" She cried out. To no avail as the big man unknowingly stepped right into the motion sensor of the anti-personnel mine hidden behind the bend of the trench. A mine that had been built and designed to kill a deermod in the blast. Much less a Foxmod. "BLAST!" Soap cried out. She'd killed him. She'd fucking killed another one of her own. She'd planted that mine to cover her back. She'd set it up to go off on any movement. She'd failed to warn him in time. And now he was dead.
Pulling herself out of the rubble she'd found herself in, one leg twisted to an unnatural angle, she howled in pain as she dragged herself back, back to her friend. She reached his body just as the siren began to go off to signal the end of the exercise.
Why? Why did it hurt so much!? She'd hardened herself to the pain of losing people. She'd become the cold bitch that everyone avoided. And yet, here she was, howling like a wounded animal at the loss of Zeus. Reaching up, she managed to extract his tags from under the charred shirt he wore, under the body armor and shrapnel of the mine. Ignoring how her uniform was soaked in blood, mud, water and tears, she ripped the secondary tag off, and clutched it to her chest.
This was the last one. The last exercise. He was half an hour away from surviving it all! And now... now she'd killed him, like so many others. She never felt the hands picking her up and pulling her away. Never heard the people trying to calm her down with words. Only saw that Zeus was beginning to pull away from her and she renewed her howling and trying desperately to reach for him. To make this nightmare stop and hear him make one more of his stupid idealistic jokes. Eventually she found herself losing consciousness, having never felt the needle put into her neck to finally get her to calm down.
Medusa Expanse - Sirris II, Sanctuary System [60 Anno post Exodum]
Obsidian City (Space Port - MV 'Fallen Shrine')
'You can't keep blaming yourself Sophia. Yeah, we died. We knew that was coming. It's how it goes.' Came the voice of Zeus, Causing Soap to quickly snap her head back, trying to find the speaker or whatever was playing tricks with her.
'You did what you could Sophia. We never blamed you.'
'It's what the dressed up monkeys sought, not us.'
'They got what they deserved in the end, and us? We outlived them all.'
"No... Not all of us." Soap whispered, collapsing into her bed, and pressed herself against the wall, pulling her legs up to hold them. This wasn't an unknown experience for her. Hearing the voices of the dead. It wasn't magic, or spirits or whatever. Just her own psyche poking at her.
'You're still alive Sophia. Stop wishing you weren't.' Teresa, one of the 'ghosts' haunting Soap, said, somehow, in Soap's mind, stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. 'You can't change the past. You can only move forward.'
"I don't want to. I don't want to forget you all. I haven't yet... Haven't yet..." She cried, unable to finish her sentence.
'You've punished yourself enough Sophia. More than any of us could have, or would have. You can't keep living with these walls in your heart and in your mind. You've a crew now, people who trust you with their lives.' Spoke Richard, another one.
"And I'm going to cause them pain and suffering too. Just like I did all of you." She replied. She'd dreaded it. That moment when something horrible happened and it was all her fault once more. Theo, Drake, they'd been helping her heal, but there were hurts too deep to heal properly.
'You can't know that.' Zeus chided her, sitting on the bed with her, and giving her one of those big hugs he used to. 'Let them in. Let the doc help you. Don't keep bottling this all up. It's going to kill you if you do.' He continued, smiling serenely.
"Please, stop... I don't deserve your forgiveness... Your compassion. I couldn't live with myself if you stopped hating me." Soap sobbed, finally burying her head into her knees and letting the tears happen. Until she'd met Theo, Drake, and the others, the voices of her past had only ever spoken hate, disgust and anger at her. Kept her from crying with their vitriol directed at her, helping keep her heart hardened to the world. Reminding her of her failures and shortcomings as a leader and a soldier. But since she started getting help, they'd changed.
And Soap wasn't sure she could survive it. Especially not if one of her crew died because of her. She didn't deserve forgiveness or compassion, peace or hope. It was why she'd drank. Why she'd never gotten close to others. Why she'd sealed herself away in her mind and heart. Do the job. Get paid. Move to the next. Don't let others in and don't make friends. Don't open up. She didn't want to feel the pain again. To feel the blood on her hands coating them again. Or to have another voice join the chorus that tormented her. First with the hate she was sure they must have held for her... And now with the compassion they showed.
Medusa Expanse - Sirris II, Sanctuary System [60 Anno post Exodum]
Obsidian City (Hassan University - Military Wing)
Fredrick stood on the platform, hands clasped behind his back as he watched the prospective officer recruits push themselves through the training course ahead of them. Some were bound to become Squires to a Knight once they graduated, others would go to their specialized job training to lead Army, Marine or Navy personnel. But until that day came, they were here, learning how to be adults in a college environment, and how to be soldiers on his training field.
"Mark her. Check her fitness report and psyche eval." He said, gesturing with a lift of his chin to a recruit who was struggling with the course. Her uniform marked her as a fourth year recruit, meaning that she should have been able to handle this without issue. While the training was not as grueling as enlisted personnel was, since it was spread out over four years instead of the few months that enlisted troops had, they still had standards high enough that most recruits had to maintain a training level of fitness all through the program. That meant they should have been more than fit enough to handle this. Which lead Fredrick to think something else was wrong.
"Marked Sergeant Major. According to the log, she skipped her last fitness check two months ago. Psyche Eval is clean though. No major issues or faults to prevent service. There is a warning about her being of low-esteem and to be aware that it could create an issue if pushed too far." The man next to Fredrick replied, holding up a field tablet with the information pulled up. Sure, both could have just used their Geist to get the information, but there was a tradition of having a more 'old school' backup system in place just in case.
Frederick winced, and nodded. "Alright. Send her Sergeant a heads up and have him check in with her. I don't want to wash out a prospective recruit that's put in 4 years here, but I don't want to push through someone who's trying to avoid exposing themselves over something." He instructed, keeping his focus on the field. Hard to think that when he woke up, to him at least, he'd literally just been put on ice after having had to forcibly sedate one of his platoon leaders who had lost herself to her grief that she'd bottled up for too long. Especially in a training environment where making mistakes didn't get you a penalty and extra coursework or training, but left with you being taken away in a body bag to be dumped into a vat to be broken down to try again in the next batch of genemods.
And Fredrick Excalibre, known amongst his old unit as Two-Tone, had been trying to reach out to that platoon leader since. Especially since he'd found out that she, not him, had been woken first. And handed the weight of their old unit's dearest wish. Frederick, couldn't. No, he wouldn't blame her for turning away from everyone. Her turning to a life alone. But he didn't want her to suffer alone. He was worried about her. He was worried she'd do something that was permanent and couldn't walk back from.
He'd said as much when he spoke to Lyan Virtra a couple of months ago when he visited her at her bar on Tortuga. Yeah, he could get into a bunch of trouble if he was found out having done so when he took some leave. But he'd gone purely to check in on Lyan, make sure one of his old Platoon Leaders was doing alright nowadays. So he went to Tortuga, visited her bar, the 'Reach Out And Touch', and talked. Ended up downing three glasses and 6 hours of time but it was a good catch up. Lyan was doing well, trying to start a family. She had no interest in going back into uniform. At least a military one anyways. And Fredrick was okay with that.
He simply went back into the military because he wanted to help train the next generation of personnel. And hopefully, well, get them to be more understanding of their people, and to avoid repeating the horrors that he had been made under. He had been surprised to learn that Sophia was apparently a semi-regular there. Not something he would have expected. But then, thinking about it some afterwards, well, he should have known. Sophia had become so spiteful about the uniform, the structure, the mindset... It was no wonder she was avoiding him.
"Gods, I wish Jessica had survived now, more then ever." Fredrick mused aloud, getting a confused look from the NCO next to him.
"Sergeant Major?"
"Ah, sorry Luke. Just thinking aloud is all. About what's going on with some of my old unit." He explained, getting his focus back on his job ahead of him. Other than the one recruit, it looked like everyone was about where they should be for their cycle of training. He'd have to send a good word to the instructors, so long as it was clear there hadn't been abusive coercion of their trainees to make it happen. They did have a new crop of instructors so there was always the possibility of it slipping in. But Fredrick was determined to stamp that kind of thing out brutally.
Medusa Expanse - Sirris II, Sanctuary System [60 Anno post Exodum]
Obsidian City (Recon Barracks - Military District)
The group of personnel were filtering out of the briefing room, chattering amongst themselves. Most were discussing the results of the training simulation they'd just taken part in and thus sat through a debriefing on. But others were talking about their plans once they got changed out of their uniforms. One of them was humming a song that somehow seemed to be a tune of sadness and yet it was hopeful.
"Oi! Rainbow!" Someone called out, walking over to the humming figure, her ears and tail twitching as she stopped and turned to look. "So I gotta ask you a really stupid question." The person who'd called out, a young man who wore the flat black battle fatigues over his mithral suit that were common of Recon, his mussy brown hair just barely inside of regs. He was shorter than the person he was calling out by mere centimeters, but he still had to tilt his head slightly to look at her face.
'Rainbow', so called for her almost pastel rainbow colored hair and fur, smiled and tilted her head. "What's up Mouse?" She asked, her own uniform clashing drastically with her colors. How she'd managed to remain in Recon with the coloration was hard to fathom, and yet she frequently had some of the best marks in the entire brigade.
"Just wanting to ask, since everyone's keeping tight-lipped, but how come it's only the old vets like you who seem able to find you in the field? That fur sticks out like a sore thumb." 'Mouse' asked, grinning.
"If you ain't figured it out yet Mouse, then you need more experience. There's some tricks only live fire experience can give you." MSgt. Linda 'Rainbow' Yorinton replied, smiling. "Trust me, some of them I learned from my old NCO." She continued, letting that smile grow into a grin.
"Oh come on, I know you didn't actually deploy! So don't give me that." Sgt. Edwin 'Mouse' Roberts said, shaking his head. "So how the hell could you have gotten live fire experience?"
"Then you definitely haven't done your research. I get you're a Sirris-native, but don't assume anything in this line of work. It'll get you killed." She said, her grin turning somber and almost haunted. "Not all of us 'Vets' really survived the Last War in one piece." She said, turning away and walking off.
"Hey! Wait!" Edwin called out, and sighed, shaking his head. "The fuck was that about?" He muttered, before finding an arm thrown around his shoulders.
"She never deployed on the front line, but she's just one of 250 survivors of her 1000 strong unit, kid." The deep voice of the bear-mod who was the CO of Edwin's unit said, watching the fox-mod walking off. "And every one of those lost was to live fire." He continued, knowing just how much that could weigh on a soul.
"Wait, if she never deployed, then... You never said 'hostile fire'..." Edwin said, eyes widening as he caught on.
"Yup. Maybe you should dig into those old records some more. I'd recommend the Eridarndi Republic and their Gene-Mod Corps." The man said, patting Edwin's shoulder before walking off to handle his duties as a company commander.
Linda resumed her little personal music concert, trying to take her mind off her memories. Especially how she remembered seeing her platoon leader began to crack after the death of Jessica. Sophia had been so good at keeping them alive during those hellish months. And if there was anyone she wanted to reach out and touch with her music, it was her.
Taking a breath, and thinking of the top of her song, the only one she'd probably not get allowed to release because it didn't fit the image the Idol Command wanted her to project. "Every time I find my fire, somehow I'm starved for air. But when I'm stuck in the mire, I know I've nothing to fear." She began, thinking of how they'd all felt as the months dragged on. Just as it seemed like they were finally starting to gain a grip on their tiny little world, their trainers found some way to make it hell. For all her love of heavy metal, this was one song that Linda wanted to sing that was nothing of the sort, and she wanted to dedicate it not only to the one who managed to keep all of 4th Platoon alive, but looking forward, even as she fell into the swamp and began to drown.
She kept going, singing the song gently, only stopping as she reached her quarters and opened them, looking at the display she had on her desk. The only 'memorabilia' she had of her old life that she had pride in. It was a copy of the original, lacking its message on the back, but it was still something she drew strength from. After all, it was the only place she could see the entire Division together once more.
"I'm sorry Soap... Sorry that I can't ever reach out to you and tell you thank you for keeping as many of us alive as you did." She whispered, picking up the holo emitter and looking at the fox standing to one side, her yellow fur and two tails making her easy to spot, having already begun to settle into her role as platoon leader when this picture had been taken. "And I think you need to see one of us say thank you." She said, putting the emitter back on the desk and getting herself ready for another day of doing the idol work she'd been picked for.
Eridani Republic Genemod Training Center C14 - Training Week 36 (Day 1 [Recovery])
"Those Gods forsaken fucking dressed up monkeys!" Hissed Lyan Virtia, callsign One-Eye, slamming their fist into the wall of the barracks. She was a fully anthropomorphic fox-mod, with a rich red fur and vulpine face, and both eyes despite the callsign. It was reinforced, hardened and built to withstand such things, owing that every single person in this part of the base were genemods, and thus capable of denting normal steel plates if they were used as walls. She had a bandage on her arm, with a rich red spot on it. The digital desert camouflage with its six colors, jokingly called 'digichip' pants were fresh, unlike her fur, which was matted and coated in gods knew what.
"Calm yourself Lyan. I know it's bullshit. You know it's bullshit. They know it's bullshit." Said Fredrick Excalibre, callsign Two-Tone, looking up from the bundle of tags he had in his hand at the fox mod who had just spoken. He was mostly human but for the fox features, though his fur was a mish-mash of red and black. "It won't bring them back." He said, lifting the tags in his hand for emphasis. "We know the Republic policy on deaths in the training program. We keep the tags, they recyc the bodies." He said, venom in his voice at the consideration that they were worth almost nothing. Just biomatter to be recycled if 'damaged'.
"We lost Louis, Jessica, Ashley, Nick, and Greg on my end alone." Sophia Brookmire, callsign Soap, mused, not wanting to look at the tags in question. She was a mostly human fox-mod with blond fur, but two tails. There were 17 tags in Two-Tone's hand, and there had been 4 'platoons' in the last op. They were actually running 'light' on the dead compared to the norm. And that was a very cold comfort when one considered that they had time bombs in their heads anyways. 2 years after training. That was their life, if they survived.
They had 643 dead thus far. Out of a thousand. "You think they're just gonna up the threat going forward? Try and get us back to the norm?" Asked another foxmod, the last of the 'platoon' leaders. Zeus von Graf, callsign Blast. The three of the other mods looked at the large hulk of a fox mod, standing nearly at the upper limit on every possible category that was possible for fox-mods in the training. With a dark reddish color to his fur, also anthropomorphic, but also built like a tank and muscled like he could bench press one.
"Why not? We're breaking their precious 'curve' of training and results. They're gonna find new ways to fuck us." Sophia replied, remaining on the bed and just staring up at the ceiling. "We're disposable after all." She finished, hate deep in her eyes as she looked at the harshly brutalist tiles above, only broken up by the safety measures and the lights. She didn't need to continue that line of thought. They all knew it anyway. Hell, the only reason they had the tags in the first place was because their handlers thought it 'cute' the weapons wanted something to remember the 'waste' with. Nearly all of them hated the Eridani Army officers with a passion because of it.
"Easy Sophia. We're all hurting, but we're used to this hurt. And we know that the war can't go on forever. Who knows, maybe we'll get deployed and can find someone to pull the bombs out of our heads." Zeus said, smiling. He wasn't stupid, or simple. He was insanely intelligent and perceptive. But he also had yet to have his humor or his joy stamped out by the training. And the mind and eyes were vital with his specialty, since he was the Division explosives expert. Maybe that's why he was so easy going. Screwing up in his field had higher chances of him not walking away than any other.
"Easy for you to say Zeus! You only lost Harriet!" Sophia snapped back, finally tearing her gaze from the roof to look at her fellows.
"Zeus! Sophia! Enough!" Frederick snapped in turn, pointing a finger at the two. Zeus raised his hands in a placating fashion, while Soap huffed and rolled to her side on the bed, feigning going to sleep. Sighing, Frederick spoke again. "We're going to keep going. And we'll do as we promised. We'll find our peace out there, in the world. And whoever wakes first will carry our friends forward. To show to them that we made it." He said. Sophia huffed from where she lay. She was sure the others glared at her, but she didn't care. She couldn't. Caring got her hurt. Left her with holes she couldn't fill. And she was tired of having new holes made.
Fuck this sentimental bullshit. She'd harden herself and avoid the pain that came from losing friends and family like the whole unit was. She was Soap. Not Sophia. She'd never be normal, never. And she'd make sure that the hurt and the pain would be buried. Forever.
UNKNOWN - Hassan (UNKNOWN COORDINATES) [110 Anno ante Exodum]
Eridani Republic Genemod Training Center C14 - Training Week 39 (Day 5 [Training])
Yet another day of grueling training greeted the foxmods. Getting yelled at. Told to run or perform push ups. Carry their gear from point A to point B. Engage this figure at this range.
The same shit they've been doing for months now. And it was always the same level of brutality. Because if it wasn't, it was unlikely they'd make it through the live fire exercise tomorrow. At least, that was the logic they were given.
Soap hefted the massive rucksack onto her back yet again, adjusting it with a couple of quick hops to settle it properly onto the shoulder straps of her body armor. As she was the scout platoon leader of the Division, she had to be able to carry enough supplies by herself for a 2 week deployment ahead of the rest of the Division. "Everyone ready? Tag, make sure the radio's actually fucking secured this time." She stated, before fixing her gaze on the man next to her who was settling a similar ruck onto his back as Soap had, which was pressing against a large oversized radio unit that was intended to provide comms between platoons, and if needed, higher. Sure, it could reach theatre level channels, but they weren't allowed to touch those frequencies.
Tag, chosen name Nicholas Rastput, grunted. "Yeah yeah, I know. You don't have to get all pissy at me. I know Jessica was your RTO forever, but you don't have to treat me like I'm stupid." He replied, snapping back at her.
"You've had the job three weeks. She had it 36. Forgive me for worrying about getting fucked in the ass by the damned monkey's." She said, jabbing a thumb up at the observation room glass overlooking the armory as they all geared up for a 'field patrol' exercise. There was an unspoken rule amongst the Division not to antagonize the training officers or the observers, but that was one rule Soap had begun to actively break in the last week.
"Right." Tag replied, shaking his head as he settled the rifle across his chest on its strap and settled in to wait. He had plenty he wanted to say to Soap, but kept his mouth shut to avoid pissing her off more. She'd started to, well, lose it since Jessica died. He knew the pair had been close, probably enough that they'd been bed buddies. After all, the way Soap was, there was no way she wasn't gay to some degree.
"Listen up foxes. This is an 18 hour patrol. You will start here, and climb the generated environment to secure a path through the mountain. When done, you'll return and deposit your equipment. 8 hours after you return, you'll proceed to brief for tomorrow's exercise." Came the heavily distorted voice of the instructor above them, the distortion doing little to hide the sneer in the person's voice as they spoke down to the little 'weapons' they'd produced.
Medusa Expanse - Sirris II, Sanctuary System [60 Anno post Exodum]
Obsidian City (Space Port - MV 'Fallen Shrine')
Soap found herself sitting at her desk in her cabin again, holding the tag that merely read FM-164AARD-0982. With a wane smile, she put it back into the toolbox, looking at the photo taped to the top of it. "Sorry Blast... I ain't found a place to be at peace yet. The others have... But I'm too broken. And I don't think I'll ever find it." She mused aloud, reaching into her t-shirt, and pulling out the pair of tags that hung around her own neck. They were identical, one was just intended to be ripped off her corpse if she were to die.
164th Eridarndia Air Assault Reconnaissance Division
FM-164AARD-0736
That was all the text read. Her unit, and her individual identification number. Foxmod, for the 164th, and she was 'unit' 736 of 1000. There was a chip of course in the tag, that held more data, but it was barebones to begin with, since the Republic didn't exactly see its genemods as anything more than cannon fodder. Now it was gone, but here she was. In that dreamed about peace they all wanted... And unable to find any for herself. One-Eye had a wife and was trying for a kid on Tortuga, Frederick had become an Instructor at the NDC Military Academy... But Zeus? She could feel her breath hitching a moment as she remembered it.
UNKNOWN - Hassan (UNKNOWN COORDINATES) [110 Anno ante Exodum]
Eridani Republic Genemod Training Center C14 - Training Week 42 (Day 7 [Live-Fire Training Operation])
"SOAP!" Zeus called out, hurrying through the hail of fire as he ran towards her, making her snap her head towards the sound and her eyes widening.
"NO!" She cried out. To no avail as the big man unknowingly stepped right into the motion sensor of the anti-personnel mine hidden behind the bend of the trench. A mine that had been built and designed to kill a deermod in the blast. Much less a Foxmod. "BLAST!" Soap cried out. She'd killed him. She'd fucking killed another one of her own. She'd planted that mine to cover her back. She'd set it up to go off on any movement. She'd failed to warn him in time. And now he was dead.
Pulling herself out of the rubble she'd found herself in, one leg twisted to an unnatural angle, she howled in pain as she dragged herself back, back to her friend. She reached his body just as the siren began to go off to signal the end of the exercise.
Why? Why did it hurt so much!? She'd hardened herself to the pain of losing people. She'd become the cold bitch that everyone avoided. And yet, here she was, howling like a wounded animal at the loss of Zeus. Reaching up, she managed to extract his tags from under the charred shirt he wore, under the body armor and shrapnel of the mine. Ignoring how her uniform was soaked in blood, mud, water and tears, she ripped the secondary tag off, and clutched it to her chest.
This was the last one. The last exercise. He was half an hour away from surviving it all! And now... now she'd killed him, like so many others. She never felt the hands picking her up and pulling her away. Never heard the people trying to calm her down with words. Only saw that Zeus was beginning to pull away from her and she renewed her howling and trying desperately to reach for him. To make this nightmare stop and hear him make one more of his stupid idealistic jokes. Eventually she found herself losing consciousness, having never felt the needle put into her neck to finally get her to calm down.
Medusa Expanse - Sirris II, Sanctuary System [60 Anno post Exodum]
Obsidian City (Space Port - MV 'Fallen Shrine')
'You can't keep blaming yourself Sophia. Yeah, we died. We knew that was coming. It's how it goes.' Came the voice of Zeus, Causing Soap to quickly snap her head back, trying to find the speaker or whatever was playing tricks with her.
'You did what you could Sophia. We never blamed you.'
'It's what the dressed up monkeys sought, not us.'
'They got what they deserved in the end, and us? We outlived them all.'
"No... Not all of us." Soap whispered, collapsing into her bed, and pressed herself against the wall, pulling her legs up to hold them. This wasn't an unknown experience for her. Hearing the voices of the dead. It wasn't magic, or spirits or whatever. Just her own psyche poking at her.
'You're still alive Sophia. Stop wishing you weren't.' Teresa, one of the 'ghosts' haunting Soap, said, somehow, in Soap's mind, stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. 'You can't change the past. You can only move forward.'
"I don't want to. I don't want to forget you all. I haven't yet... Haven't yet..." She cried, unable to finish her sentence.
'You've punished yourself enough Sophia. More than any of us could have, or would have. You can't keep living with these walls in your heart and in your mind. You've a crew now, people who trust you with their lives.' Spoke Richard, another one.
"And I'm going to cause them pain and suffering too. Just like I did all of you." She replied. She'd dreaded it. That moment when something horrible happened and it was all her fault once more. Theo, Drake, they'd been helping her heal, but there were hurts too deep to heal properly.
'You can't know that.' Zeus chided her, sitting on the bed with her, and giving her one of those big hugs he used to. 'Let them in. Let the doc help you. Don't keep bottling this all up. It's going to kill you if you do.' He continued, smiling serenely.
"Please, stop... I don't deserve your forgiveness... Your compassion. I couldn't live with myself if you stopped hating me." Soap sobbed, finally burying her head into her knees and letting the tears happen. Until she'd met Theo, Drake, and the others, the voices of her past had only ever spoken hate, disgust and anger at her. Kept her from crying with their vitriol directed at her, helping keep her heart hardened to the world. Reminding her of her failures and shortcomings as a leader and a soldier. But since she started getting help, they'd changed.
And Soap wasn't sure she could survive it. Especially not if one of her crew died because of her. She didn't deserve forgiveness or compassion, peace or hope. It was why she'd drank. Why she'd never gotten close to others. Why she'd sealed herself away in her mind and heart. Do the job. Get paid. Move to the next. Don't let others in and don't make friends. Don't open up. She didn't want to feel the pain again. To feel the blood on her hands coating them again. Or to have another voice join the chorus that tormented her. First with the hate she was sure they must have held for her... And now with the compassion they showed.
Medusa Expanse - Sirris II, Sanctuary System [60 Anno post Exodum]
Obsidian City (Hassan University - Military Wing)
Fredrick stood on the platform, hands clasped behind his back as he watched the prospective officer recruits push themselves through the training course ahead of them. Some were bound to become Squires to a Knight once they graduated, others would go to their specialized job training to lead Army, Marine or Navy personnel. But until that day came, they were here, learning how to be adults in a college environment, and how to be soldiers on his training field.
"Mark her. Check her fitness report and psyche eval." He said, gesturing with a lift of his chin to a recruit who was struggling with the course. Her uniform marked her as a fourth year recruit, meaning that she should have been able to handle this without issue. While the training was not as grueling as enlisted personnel was, since it was spread out over four years instead of the few months that enlisted troops had, they still had standards high enough that most recruits had to maintain a training level of fitness all through the program. That meant they should have been more than fit enough to handle this. Which lead Fredrick to think something else was wrong.
"Marked Sergeant Major. According to the log, she skipped her last fitness check two months ago. Psyche Eval is clean though. No major issues or faults to prevent service. There is a warning about her being of low-esteem and to be aware that it could create an issue if pushed too far." The man next to Fredrick replied, holding up a field tablet with the information pulled up. Sure, both could have just used their Geist to get the information, but there was a tradition of having a more 'old school' backup system in place just in case.
Frederick winced, and nodded. "Alright. Send her Sergeant a heads up and have him check in with her. I don't want to wash out a prospective recruit that's put in 4 years here, but I don't want to push through someone who's trying to avoid exposing themselves over something." He instructed, keeping his focus on the field. Hard to think that when he woke up, to him at least, he'd literally just been put on ice after having had to forcibly sedate one of his platoon leaders who had lost herself to her grief that she'd bottled up for too long. Especially in a training environment where making mistakes didn't get you a penalty and extra coursework or training, but left with you being taken away in a body bag to be dumped into a vat to be broken down to try again in the next batch of genemods.
And Fredrick Excalibre, known amongst his old unit as Two-Tone, had been trying to reach out to that platoon leader since. Especially since he'd found out that she, not him, had been woken first. And handed the weight of their old unit's dearest wish. Frederick, couldn't. No, he wouldn't blame her for turning away from everyone. Her turning to a life alone. But he didn't want her to suffer alone. He was worried about her. He was worried she'd do something that was permanent and couldn't walk back from.
He'd said as much when he spoke to Lyan Virtra a couple of months ago when he visited her at her bar on Tortuga. Yeah, he could get into a bunch of trouble if he was found out having done so when he took some leave. But he'd gone purely to check in on Lyan, make sure one of his old Platoon Leaders was doing alright nowadays. So he went to Tortuga, visited her bar, the 'Reach Out And Touch', and talked. Ended up downing three glasses and 6 hours of time but it was a good catch up. Lyan was doing well, trying to start a family. She had no interest in going back into uniform. At least a military one anyways. And Fredrick was okay with that.
He simply went back into the military because he wanted to help train the next generation of personnel. And hopefully, well, get them to be more understanding of their people, and to avoid repeating the horrors that he had been made under. He had been surprised to learn that Sophia was apparently a semi-regular there. Not something he would have expected. But then, thinking about it some afterwards, well, he should have known. Sophia had become so spiteful about the uniform, the structure, the mindset... It was no wonder she was avoiding him.
"Gods, I wish Jessica had survived now, more then ever." Fredrick mused aloud, getting a confused look from the NCO next to him.
"Sergeant Major?"
"Ah, sorry Luke. Just thinking aloud is all. About what's going on with some of my old unit." He explained, getting his focus back on his job ahead of him. Other than the one recruit, it looked like everyone was about where they should be for their cycle of training. He'd have to send a good word to the instructors, so long as it was clear there hadn't been abusive coercion of their trainees to make it happen. They did have a new crop of instructors so there was always the possibility of it slipping in. But Fredrick was determined to stamp that kind of thing out brutally.
Medusa Expanse - Sirris II, Sanctuary System [60 Anno post Exodum]
Obsidian City (Recon Barracks - Military District)
The group of personnel were filtering out of the briefing room, chattering amongst themselves. Most were discussing the results of the training simulation they'd just taken part in and thus sat through a debriefing on. But others were talking about their plans once they got changed out of their uniforms. One of them was humming a song that somehow seemed to be a tune of sadness and yet it was hopeful.
"Oi! Rainbow!" Someone called out, walking over to the humming figure, her ears and tail twitching as she stopped and turned to look. "So I gotta ask you a really stupid question." The person who'd called out, a young man who wore the flat black battle fatigues over his mithral suit that were common of Recon, his mussy brown hair just barely inside of regs. He was shorter than the person he was calling out by mere centimeters, but he still had to tilt his head slightly to look at her face.
'Rainbow', so called for her almost pastel rainbow colored hair and fur, smiled and tilted her head. "What's up Mouse?" She asked, her own uniform clashing drastically with her colors. How she'd managed to remain in Recon with the coloration was hard to fathom, and yet she frequently had some of the best marks in the entire brigade.
"Just wanting to ask, since everyone's keeping tight-lipped, but how come it's only the old vets like you who seem able to find you in the field? That fur sticks out like a sore thumb." 'Mouse' asked, grinning.
"If you ain't figured it out yet Mouse, then you need more experience. There's some tricks only live fire experience can give you." MSgt. Linda 'Rainbow' Yorinton replied, smiling. "Trust me, some of them I learned from my old NCO." She continued, letting that smile grow into a grin.
"Oh come on, I know you didn't actually deploy! So don't give me that." Sgt. Edwin 'Mouse' Roberts said, shaking his head. "So how the hell could you have gotten live fire experience?"
"Then you definitely haven't done your research. I get you're a Sirris-native, but don't assume anything in this line of work. It'll get you killed." She said, her grin turning somber and almost haunted. "Not all of us 'Vets' really survived the Last War in one piece." She said, turning away and walking off.
"Hey! Wait!" Edwin called out, and sighed, shaking his head. "The fuck was that about?" He muttered, before finding an arm thrown around his shoulders.
"She never deployed on the front line, but she's just one of 250 survivors of her 1000 strong unit, kid." The deep voice of the bear-mod who was the CO of Edwin's unit said, watching the fox-mod walking off. "And every one of those lost was to live fire." He continued, knowing just how much that could weigh on a soul.
"Wait, if she never deployed, then... You never said 'hostile fire'..." Edwin said, eyes widening as he caught on.
"Yup. Maybe you should dig into those old records some more. I'd recommend the Eridarndi Republic and their Gene-Mod Corps." The man said, patting Edwin's shoulder before walking off to handle his duties as a company commander.
Linda resumed her little personal music concert, trying to take her mind off her memories. Especially how she remembered seeing her platoon leader began to crack after the death of Jessica. Sophia had been so good at keeping them alive during those hellish months. And if there was anyone she wanted to reach out and touch with her music, it was her.
Taking a breath, and thinking of the top of her song, the only one she'd probably not get allowed to release because it didn't fit the image the Idol Command wanted her to project. "Every time I find my fire, somehow I'm starved for air. But when I'm stuck in the mire, I know I've nothing to fear." She began, thinking of how they'd all felt as the months dragged on. Just as it seemed like they were finally starting to gain a grip on their tiny little world, their trainers found some way to make it hell. For all her love of heavy metal, this was one song that Linda wanted to sing that was nothing of the sort, and she wanted to dedicate it not only to the one who managed to keep all of 4th Platoon alive, but looking forward, even as she fell into the swamp and began to drown.
She kept going, singing the song gently, only stopping as she reached her quarters and opened them, looking at the display she had on her desk. The only 'memorabilia' she had of her old life that she had pride in. It was a copy of the original, lacking its message on the back, but it was still something she drew strength from. After all, it was the only place she could see the entire Division together once more.
"I'm sorry Soap... Sorry that I can't ever reach out to you and tell you thank you for keeping as many of us alive as you did." She whispered, picking up the holo emitter and looking at the fox standing to one side, her yellow fur and two tails making her easy to spot, having already begun to settle into her role as platoon leader when this picture had been taken. "And I think you need to see one of us say thank you." She said, putting the emitter back on the desk and getting herself ready for another day of doing the idol work she'd been picked for.