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He switched off the shield with his right hand and lowered the gauntlet to the table. Next he lifted the projectile weapons. The first looked like a cut down battle rifle; the second was much broader, more like a grenade launcher or similar.

“Plasma launchers and pulse carbines are our weapons of choice for the heavy infantry. The carbines are extremely effective at short to medium distances, whereas the plasma launcher provides firepower for armour and structural destruction.”

He lowered the weapons and paused for a moment as the recruits watched in interest. It was clear that some were already familiar with the items on display, but a good proportion looked less than convinced. After they settled down, he lifted up the final item. It looked like a large metal fist with a series of bumps and fittings on its surface. He fitted it to his hand and lifted his fist to the ceiling.

“These are on loan from our Laconian friends. They are rare, and in my opinion, pointless unless you have their shielding to go with them. They are the infamous Asgeirr-Carbines.”

A murmur of recognition spread quickly through the crowd.

“Nice, I want one,” said Glaucon in a hushed voice.

Xenophon smiled and leaned in closer.

“Actually, I think I’ll take a pair!”

“This weapon incorporates an internal pulse carbine of a similar design to ours. Due to its reduced size and capacity, you will find it lacks both the ammunition and the range of our native firearms. Even so, it is deadly at close range. As well as the firearm, you also get this as a bonus.”

With a swish sound, a wicked looking blade, much like that of a large bayonet or short sword, pushed out from the fist. Its edges and tip looked as though they could stab through any material.

“Incredibly, there are some who still train to use this kind of weapon. In my opinion, if you can get close enough to your opponent to stab them, well, you can simply shoot them. We have training versions of all the weapons plus body shields for those that want them.”

He motioned for them to look past him, and a series of large doors opened up to reveal a training arena. It was easily the size of a major sporting stadium with a high ceiling and enough space for thousands of people. In the centre, taking up most of the space, was what looked like a ruined town. Buildings were partially collapsed and burnt out vehicles littered the mock streets. The ruins themselves were dwarfed by a large mound in the centre that was topped with a damaged turret or tower of some kind.

“In the centre of the ruins is your objective. You will be split into two teams of fifty. The objective will be to capture and secure the tower. Whichever team controls the tower at the end of the time limit wins. You may use reasonable force in the exercise, but remember we need fighters, not casualties. Anybody causing permanent damage will be kicked out. If we can’t trust you now, why should we on the battlefield? You can divide yourselves up, one half of you will head to the blue light that is flashing to the left, the rest to the red on my right.”

The group started to move before he interrupted them one last time.

“The exercise will run for one hour, so use it as your job interview. What you do here will choose your path for months, maybe even years to come. Good luck.”

Roxana didn’t hesitate and pushed ahead and towards the blue light. A number of other people followed her, each eager to reach the light and the soldier waiting to explain the details further. Xenophon, Glaucon and Tamara were close behind. It was only a short distance until they reached a sandbagged emplacement. Inside, a red light glowed brightly. The soldier inside stood silently, waiting for his full group of fifty to arrive before speaking. Xenophon glanced at his comrades briefly, checking they were all there. Each appeared calm, apart from Tamara, who once more seemed nervous, and even a little suspicious.

“What’s up?” he whispered to her.

She shook her head. “Nothing, let’s just do this.”

Strange, she says she has so much experience, and we’ve seen her fight. Why the nerves? Something certainly isn’t right, he thought. Then he spotted her hand shaking slightly. Narcotics, it has to be!

“You’ve been briefed on the mission. It’s a standard king of the hill scenario. You have a choice of weapons. It’s up to you how you divide up or plan the mission. The only distinction between sides is the colour of your weapons.”

He held up one of the rifles. It was the normal grey colour but carried a series of blue bands across its centre.

“You will start in two minutes, so grab your gear and come up with a plan, fast!”

Xenophon was about to move forward when he spotted slight movement ahead. He looked up to see a series of gantries from which military personnel were watching. Either this would be a spectacle for them, or they were the officers or trainers watching to see how they performed. As he watched them, over half of the lights shut off to give the impression of a dusk battlefield. Smoke generators must have activated, as the site quickly turned into a dusty, poorly lit battlefield. Xenophon smiled inwardly, surprised at the quality of the training scenario.

If there wasn’t so much at stake, I might actually enjoy this.

Roxana moved to the middle of the group and spoke loudly.

“My name is Roxana Devereux, former Alliance officer. I have some ground combat experience. Who else has leadership experience?”

Most of the other fifty ignored her, but a handful stepped closer to listen. At the same time, a large man, easily a head taller than Glaucon pushed ahead and grabbed one of the shield generators and a carbine. A dozen men picked up similar gear and stood near him. He looked to Roxana and back to the recruits.

“Rexor, Arcadian heavy infantry, retired,” was all he said.

The bulk of the others grabbed equipment, most opting for the shields and carbines, but a few took the rifles instead. Xenophon stepped to the table and examined the gear. It looked like the weapons were loaded with tranquiliser shells, a common training bullet that would cause no more than a bruise, but stun the victim for several minutes. He looked back to Roxana who was speaking with several of the volunteers in her group. He counted eleven people include him, not many.

“Listen, this is a built-up area with lots of cover. I suggest we go light, ditch the heavy shielding and sneak forward to the tower.”

Rexor laughed at her.

“Alliance cowards. We take the shield and big guns. Push through the main streets and directly to the tower. We have protection if they try and stop us. You stick together as one group.”

His comrades around him cheered in agreement.

“One group or one target?” said Roxana before turning to her much smaller team. A boy, barely a teenager, waved a pulse carbine in front of her.

“If we’re quick, we could grab the tower before their heavies get in. I bet I could run the entire way if I just take this,” he suggested.

Roxana smiled at him, impressed by his confidence but also wary of throwing away people too quickly.

“A good idea, but if our reinforcements are held up, you’ll be trapped with smaller numbers and lighter weapons. I suggest we form two groups and make for the tower. The first will rush it,” she turned to the teenager. “You can be part of that group.”

She then looked to the rest. “We’ll all follow them with the heavier weapons and watch for infiltrators. We will provide the backup ready for when the heavies get there. What do you think?”

The small group appeared to have little to say other than a woman of similar age to Roxana.

“The name’s Erika, I’ve got some experience in private security, escort and protection work. What gear do you suggest?” she asked.

Xenophon held up a selection of the weapons.