“You all signing up together?” he asked as he glanced at the group of four.
Xenophon nodded.
“Yes, Sergeant, we’re looking for mercenary work in the expedition.”
“No Sergeant here, son. I’m a Dekarchos in this operation. Now, do any of you have experience with the heavy infantry?” he asked, giving special attention to Glaucon who was undoubtedly the largest of the group.
“No, most of our experience is with the Alliance Navy,” explained Roxana.
“Alliance, huh? Well, I guess that means no to the heavies. We don’t need any more crew or technical staff. Right now, we’re looking for heavy infantry and a small number of skirmishers, light infantry and support troops. Interested?”
Xenophon glanced back to the other three, but they clearly had no problem with his offer. He looked back to the Dekarchos and nodded.
“Good, take the door to the right and drop your gear off. You’ll be issued with fatigues and prepped for your selection.”
“Selection, I thought you’d given us the options?” asked Tamara.
“Options? You misunderstand, Miss. We choose where to send you, and right now we don’t know what you have to offer. The transports leave in four hours. Before that, you’ll know if you’re staying or leaving. Dukas Xenias is looking for bodies to fill out his two thousand troops, and more than anything, we need front-line combat troops. If you can’t use a blade or fire a weapon, then we can’t use you, understood?”
Tamara nodded, but there was a look of doubt on her face.
CHAPTER NINE
Arcadian Titan ‘Olympia’, Median space
Xenophon moved to the door and glanced over his shoulder to spot the others moving slowly behind him. Out of all of them, Tamara looked the most concerned. Once through the door, they entered a narrow corridor that was filled with at least fifty other recruits. Each of them looked as bewildered as themselves. A faint voice much further inside shouted out towards them, but it was too muffled to hear clearly. Luckily, they were moving at a walking pace and covering the distance at a reasonable speed. It was getting warmer the further they travelled. The corridor opened out into a wide-open space decked out with benches and fabric screen that must have only recently been set up. In the centre of the room were a number of crates containing overalls and equipment. Six soldiers stood to attention and handed them out to the new arrivals.
“Get your fatigues here!” called out the nearest.
Xenophon walked over and was about to speak, when he was blocked by a tall, black soldier. The man wore a grey uniform with several patches indicating previous tours of duty. He was obviously a man of experience, but Xenophon didn’t recognise his unit’s markings.
“Move it. All potentials grab your fatigues and get into the training arena. Your trial starts in ten minutes.”
A pair of fatigues was thrust into his hands, and he found himself pushed to the next person who held out a box. It was made of thin wood and already had his name printed on it. He was confused at first as to how they knew who he was, but then it was obvious. When they had originally signed up, they had been photographed. A full Alliance dossier would have been easy for them to access.
“Your gear and personal items in here. No weapons, comms devices or sharp objects.”
He emptied his pockets, but there was surprisingly little to give them. When finished, he was directed to one of the temporary booths to get changed. It seemed a little excessive, but then he remembered this was a mixed unit of men and women. It was probably a good idea to offer at least a little privacy to get started. In his experience, the military tended to not spend much time worrying about these kinds of details. He pulled off his clothes as quickly as possible and threw on the overalls. They were equipped with a series of small belts to adjust, and with a little effort they almost fitted correctly. Once satisfied, he emerged from the privacy of his booth to join the rest of the new recruits. Glaucon was already waiting, but there was no sign yet of the other two. The soldier with the wooden box took away his clothes and placed them on top of the rest of his belongings. He didn’t say anything but pointed further along the hall to where a man in tactical armour was waiting.
Okay, I wonder what challenge they’ve set for us.
He walked towards the man and waited. About twenty more people were also stood waiting patiently. With all of their gear removed, everyone looked roughly the same. Men outnumbered the women by about two to one, and there was a wide range of ages from late teens up to the sixties.
“Are you ready for this?” asked Roxana as she appeared behind him. He glanced back to her, noting how calm and collected she appeared in this situation. A fraction taller than him, she was easily the most combat experienced of them all. She’d tied her long hair up into a bun. It was an odd look but hardly surprising due to their current predicament. Xenophon had said nothing yet, so she spoke again.
“Look, these kind of tests are pretty common. They throw us in some kind of fight, and it will let them choose which branch to transfer us to.”
Glaucon and Tamara arrived, both looking distinctly unimpressed with their new clothing. Tamara especially seemed irritated by the looseness of hers.
“If we want to be in the same unit, we need to stay together, understood?” asked Roxana.
They all nodded, apart from Tamara who was too busy watching the armoured soldier at the front.
“Tamara?” called Xenophon, trying to get her attention. She looked and glanced at him.
“Listen to her. If we don’t work together, they’ll split us up. Okay?”
She looked away. Xenophon sighed in irritation but was interrupted by the soldier who had lifted his right hand to get their attention.
“This little test is one of skill, fitness, speed and aggression. Your performance will determine which units and position you will occupy. We assume a basic level of skill and military knowhow. If any of you lack this, I suggest you leave now. We are a mercenary outfit, not a training camp. If you can’t work in one of our units from tomorrow, then we won’t be able to use you.”
He bent down and lifted up a rifle.
“This here is the Doru Mk II training rifle. It is the same weight and size as the battlefield versions our Arcadian infantry use. This is the standard weapon used by our light infantry for scouting and special operations. The Doru MK II uses a high velocity pulse round, is capable of long distance interdiction and can penetrate most modern armours. Almost a quarter of our contribution to the Armada will be equipped with this weapon. You will rely on stealth, cunning and accuracy to win. Light infantry do not carry personal shields, just one generator pack per ten man squad.”
A murmur of discontent spread through the crowd, especially from those with Laconian or Alliance experience. Some tried to interrupt the man, but his harsh stare and silence stopped them.
“As for heavy infantry, we favour the Laconian model and have developed a system that mixes our strengths with theirs. We use the lighter and more mobile deflector units.”
He held up a metal gauntlet that was thickly padded with plates and wiring. A number of tubes and cables ran from inside the plates to a backpack. He slid it onto his left hand and tapped the button on the side. A dull audible pulse echoed inside the hall. From the gauntlet, a blue light expanded until it produced an oval energy shield of half the height and width of a man. It shimmered as it defused light travelling through it. The soldier lifted his arm so that the shield stood in front of him and towards the recruits.
“Our body shields are half the weight of the Laconian designs, but they are nowhere near as powerful. Whereas a Laconian shield is built to absorb kinetic and thermal energy, ours merely deflect them. Our shields can only deflect small arms fire at long to medium distance. It allows out heavy infantry to close the distance to make use of our specialised weapons. The closer we get, the more we have to rely upon cover and firepower.”