Spartan paused as he reached the end, for a moment confused by what he saw ahead. As he entered the habitation ring he could see it rotating around him, people were all around the perimeter, though he was in the centre and still experiencing weightlessness. Ahead of him was a marine sergeant who was moving people down a series of ladders to the surface. He moved up to the marine who raised his hand to stop him.
“Wait. The ladder will take you down to the grav zone. You’re gonna feel weird when you get hit by full on gravity again, so take it slow and wait if you feel nauseous.”
Where he was waiting were four ladders, each rotating very slowly so that he could easily grab onto any of them. He chose the one to his left and noted that he was already moving up slowly. Reaching out he grabbed the metal rung and swung his feet up onto the frame. At this point he was barely moving. Lowering himself down Spartan nodded and then started to work his way down the ladder. Although the section only rotated at about three complete revolutions a minute it was still moving at a considerable speed. Looking up he noticed Teresa was following close behind. He concentrated on the ladder and kept moving down until he finally reached the other section. He jumped down and was glad to feel the force of gravity pulling him to the outside of the vessel. He looked up to see the centre section where he had started seemed to be rotating though he knew it was actually him moving around it. He thought about it a little more, especially the idea that maybe he wasn’t moving and maybe it was the centre section, then he gave up. Physics wasn’t his forte and thinking about it for any longer he thought his head would explode.
There were over a hundred recruits now in this area and they were all busy looking around their new home. Though they were standing in what was essentially a big wheel, as they looked along the ship they could see the habitation section was just the other twenty metres or so that rotated around the main hull of the ship. It made sense, as the space in the centre would be a total waste if used as a zero gravity area to float around in. Teresa jumped down next to Spartan.
“That wasn’t so bad now was it?”
“Yeah, bloody great!”
“Okay recruits, this is your last day as a civilian!”
Spartan turned to see a tall black man stood in his Marine Corps dress uniform. You have your berth numbers on this board and I suggest you get your gear unloaded. The time is set to Proxima Standard Time. That makes it fourteen hundred hours. We will re-assemble here in one hour for your introduction!”
Spartan approached the board and searched for his name. He noted he was in a section with three other men, none of them sounded familiar. Lifting his small backpack onto his shoulder he turned back to Teresa who was also reading the board.
“See you around, look after yourself.”
Teresa smiled back, “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.” She turned back to the screen.
Spartan moved off down the slightly curved corridor, reading the numbers on the berths as he went. Some of the doors were already open and he glimpsed a number of people putting their gear away. He reached his and noticed the door was shut. Pulling hard it swung open to reveal a small berth with two bunk beds one on each side and a small table in the middle. Against the far wall was a video terminal that had strong similarities with the screens back on the station. As he entered the room, it flickered and a three-dimensional face appeared.
“Welcome recruit. These are your quarters for the duration of your training. In this room you have adequate storage for your clothing and personal items. Communal showers and toilet facilities are between each eight berths. Video communications are available free of charge for all Marine Corps personnel but with the usual ten second security delay. Please exercise caution when using any outside communication devices. We are at war and information must always be guarded. Your briefing will take place in fifty-one minutes,” said the voice before it went silent.
Another man entered the room, a tall black man with dark hair and a tattoo of a knife on his neck. Spartan scanned him quickly, instantly noting the way he moved and carried himself. Behind him were the final two men, a pair of Hispanics in their late twenties. The black man spoke first with a thick German accent.
“Marcus,” he said, shaking Spartan’s hands and then moved forward to one of the lower bunks. Spartan’s gear was already on the top bunk to the right. The next two men entered, the first ignored everyone but the shorter one looked a little more agreeable.
“Jesus, and you?”
“Spartan.”
“You Greek?”
“No,” came the reply, in his usual sardonic manner.
“Oh, okay. Well, I guess I’m on the left.”
With the four men now in the cabin, the artificial intelligence system reactivated and repeated the message Spartan had already listened to. He looked around, spotting the sprinklers system, fire extinguishers and fire axes. There was little that encouraged him as to the safety of the place. In fact, everything he had seen so far told him this vessel was far from the safest place he’d been in.
With a dull rumble through the massive vessel they could all feel the main engines on the ship start up. There was a slight rattle coming from one of the air vents. Jesus lifted himself up on the bunk bed and struck it with the palm of his hand, it changed nothing.
“Oh, man, that isn’t going to annoy me is it?”
It wasn’t clear whether Spartan was more irritated with Jesus or the vent but he quickly climbed up and smashed the bottom of his fist at the grate. It made a crunching sound and the rattle stopped instantly.
The German nodded his head in satisfaction grinning as he looked at the dent in the metalwork. “Yeah, I like your moves.”
Spartan turned around with the room now quiet. “Me too.”
The other Hispanic got up from the bunk bed and moved to Spartan. He was a good deal shorter but that didn’t seem to bother him.
“Hey, man, I know you, yeah, Spartan,” he said excitedly.
“I seriously doubt that.”
“Yeah, you’re that gladiator guy I saw on the news. You were fighting on one of the stations around Prometheus right? They said you killed a cop.”
The German took a step back, staring warily at him. “Is that true, you a cop killer?”
“What does it matter, we’re all here for the same reason, we were too stupid to do something better.”
“Maybe, but I’d still like to know if I’m sharing with a cop killer.”
“It was an accident, if it wasn’t they’d have electrocuted my ass!”
“Accident my ass,” said Jesus, as he jumped back onto his bunk.
“You looking to make an issue of it?” Spartan sounded more than a little annoyed.
“Just wondering, man, just wondering,” smiled Jesus.
CHAPTER THREE
The Confederate Marine Corps serves as an amphibious force-in-readiness that is able to conduct operations both in and from space. As outlined in Title 32 of the Confederation Constitution and as originally introduced under the Confederation Security Act of 147b, it has three primary areas of responsibility:
These are the seizure or defence of ports, docks, and naval bases as well as land operations to support naval campaigns by the Centauri Confederate Navy fleet.
The development of tactics, techniques and equipment as used by amphibious landing forces.
Such other duties as the office of Command in Chief may direct.