Ways Of Seeing Training Facility, Barcella,

Kerensky Cluster,

16^th March 3045

 

“This is great!” Deserk yelled exuberantly as he swung the torso of the mech around to target a slow moving dummy practice drone. Pressing down firmly on his trigger, Deserk was thrilled to see a brilliant laser beam flash out to disintegrate the drone.

Sure, the mech was unmovable, and it was not much of a mech, but it was the very first time they had the chance to actually sit in a mech cockpit. After years of staring at cutboard cutouts, scaled down mockups made of recycled plastic and metal, listening to Seccora and Jazelyn drone on about the basics of mech operation, they finally had the chance to show their mettle.

“Cadet Deserk, watch your 4 o’clock.” The harsh voice of Secorra barked into his ear.

Deserk complied, and saw three more drones heading his way. He started to panic a bit, and missed with his laser. The drones came ever closer, as Deserk waited agonizingly or the laser to recharge.

Despite this being only a first mech run for the cadets, nothing in the clans was ever without risk. The drones were rigged with explosives, which were strong enough to destroy the training mech’s legs, which were bereft of any armor, and were seemingly made only of tinfoil. They would detonate once they touched the mech, and were programmed with rudimentary evasive programs.

The mech itself was ancient, an old Wasp that was left over from the Exodus. Nevertheless, it was still an awesome sight.

The pinnacle of human warfare, a mech stood more than 8 meters tall, a towering machine of myomer and alloy that could often level a city on its own using lasers, missiles, or autocannons.

Except this pathetic Wasp, Deserk griped as he managed to connect with one shot. One drone became an orange ball of fire that engulfed one of its companions, leaving just one last drone to threaten Deserk. However, it was getting very close.

Deserk had no doubts that failure here could very possibly mean the end of his life as a mechwarrior cadet. Ever since their arrival at the training facility, two sibkin had washed out of training, while another two were killed in live-fire exercises.

He had no desire to be the fifth.

Not for the first time, he wished he had Descartin’s coolness under fire. Des had already wiped out every one of his target drones, and had a hundred percent shooting accuracy. The same could not be said for himself.

Sweat dripped into his eyes from his brow. Deserk used his left arm to wipe off the sweat, cursing the lack of a helmet along with its forehead padding that would have soaked up the sweat. He was able to control the targeting stick with his right hand though, guiding the cursor slowly before the oncoming drone.

Certain that he had a lock, Deserk shot, and was gratified by a satisfying golden blaze. The mech rocked a bit from the force of the drone’s death throes, and Deserk realized just how close he was to having the Wasp blown out from under him.

“That is enough, Cadet! The exercise is over! You can exit the mech now!” Secorra roared again over the cockpit’s speakers.

As Deserk jumped down from his mech to join his sibko on the training ground, he could see differing expressions on their faces. As usual, Descartin was his confident self, his oft-practiced air of indifference and arrogance a well-worn cloak around him. And no wonder, for he had performed the best among them all.

Petra and Lintya, who could pass for identical twins, stood silently at attention, but their faces were still flushed from the thrill of being in a mech for the first time. Deserk could not detect any sign of disappointment on their faces.

Feelia looked fearful, for she had let a drone get too close to her mech, and the explosion had almost destroyed it. She was not hurt, a testament to the toughness of mechs. Deserk wanted to console her, but it would be a sign of weakness.

And weakness of any sort is abhorred in the clans.

Jovre, Ori, and Nioco were much like Petra and Lintya, excited at their chance to finally pilot real mechs, and eager to hear what their instructors had to say about their performance.

“You are all pathetic.” Secorra snarled. Deserk was surprised, and as he looked around, he realized he was not the only one. Almost everyone looked as if they had their faces splashed with icy cold water.

Except for Des, who had a feral light in his eyes as he listened to Secorra’s tirade. Deserk hoped Des would not do something foolish, like killing Secorra out of hand.

“You almost failed in this test, all of you, and if we had sent just two more drones after your mechs, all of you might have been dead! I expect better, and you all will deliver the next go round, or I will toss your carcasses into the forest for the nova cats to eat!” Secorra stalked away as he finished his debrief.

Jazelyn stepped out in front as Secorra left. “Cadet Feelia, can you tell me what went wrong for you?” Her tone was almost casual, her face expressionless.

Feelia replied out loud, “I was not fast enough!”

“Aff. Quite right. At least you are honest to yourself. I know you are afraid of being drummed out the program, but we believe in giving chances, even to those who barely deserve it. Foul up one more time, and you will be reassigned. Am I perfectly clear?”

“AFF!” The waves of relief coming off Feelia were almost palpable.

“That is all for the day. You are free to rest, but we have an inspection by the Star Colonel at 0500 hours tomorrow morning, and I expect everything to be in perfect condition, down to the folds on your uniforms. Dismissed!”

As the cadets dutifully trooped away, Des shifted closer to Deserk.

“So how did you do?” Des asked.

Deserk sighed. “I almost blew it. The last drone got very close to my mech before I was able to destroy it. If I had been a second slower, I might be the one in Feelia’s position.”

Descartin nodded. “I understand. But you passed this one, and that is all that matters. Tomorrow is a new day, and another chance to impress.”

“Like what you do all day long?” Deserk grinned. “I suppose the rest of us should be glad you are not taking every opportunity to insult us or put us down for our deficiencies.”

“Why should I do that? I prefer to get along on my own merits.” Des paused. “Besides, what good does it really do to me? This is not really a competition. If we measure up, we will be warriors. It is not a matter of only the best cadet being a warrior.”

“And last of all, maybe I need you to keep me on my toes.” Des smiled wickedly.

They reached their barracks, the others already ahead of them, fighting for room in the two sonic showers stalls. They headed for their bunk, where they started ironing their uniforms on the table in the center of the room. Ironing boards were considered to be a waste of resources.

“So how did you feel the first time in a mech?” Deserk asked as he plugged in the power cord for the iron into a wall socket. He supposed they should be glad the clan did not force them to use archaic irons with hot coals inside.

“Powerful. In control. It was as if there was nothing in the world that could stop me.” Des repositioned his uniform as he started work.

“Except another mech.”

Des scowled. “Of course. And the feeling did not last long anyway, once those stravag drones started attacking. It was then I realized that the mechs they let us use were utter wrecks.”

“Well, you could hardly expect them to let mere cadets use omnimechs for training.”

They fell silent at the mention of the word ‘omnimechs’. The ultimate in modern warfare, omnimechs were even more powerful than ordinary battlemechs. Often equipped with cutting edge technology, they could customize their weapons loadout for every battle, giving their pilots an incredible advantage over ordinary mechs.

To pilot an omnimech on the front lines of battle was the dream of every mechwarrior cadet. There fame, honor, and glory could be achieved. On the battlefield, they could gain immortality.

But they had to become warriors first.

And that was no sure thing.

They ironed their clothes in silence, their hands moving according to familiar routines while their minds dreamt of glory to come.

 

“So how did our cadets do today?” Varro Drummond asked Jazelyn, who was sipping a cup of water in his room. “Their first day in a mech, even those decrepit hulks, quiaff?”

“Aff. It took most of them a while before they realized that even in a mech, they are not invincible.” She smiled. “Except for Cadet Descartin. He reacted as if he had been a mechwarrior all his life.”

She continued. “You should have seen it. He destroyed all of his drones in record time, and was even able to time some of his shots in such a way that the explosion from the destruction of one drone would take out another. Some of the others managed it as well, but more by happenstance than by deliberate skill.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Your verdict?”

“He is either the best mechwarrior since the Kerenskys, or the luckiest cadet alive. Somehow, I do not think it is the latter.”

“Then we will have to push him harder. I do not want him to rest on his laurels.”

“Definitely.” She hesitated before speaking again, as if afraid of raising the issue. “Do you think he is the one…”

He nodded. “That is a distinct possibility. But the strange thing about vision quests is that some of them are fulfilled only after a very long time. And warrior ability alone does not mean anything.”

“And if he is the one?”

“Be careful, Jazelyn. Even the Oathmaster was unable to decipher the vision. We do not even know its meaning, so how can we even be sure of its fulfillment? No, let us wait and see.”

A tinge of anger entered Jazelyn’s voice. “Wait and see? How much longer must we wait? You gave up your chance at Galaxy Command for a vision quest, that might be nothing more than a wild dream!”

Varro tried to calm her down. “Jazelyn, listen to me…”

“No, I followed you, gave up my place on the battlefield. My chance at a bloodname too, remember that? All gone now, just because of a vision you had!”

“You had the same vision too.” Varro replied quietly. “Yes, my ending was a bit different, but for all intents and purposes, what we saw were two possible endings for the same path. The salvation of humanity, or its utter doom.”

“The end of humanity?” She barked out a harsh laugh. “The broadsword carving through the Inner Sphere could be anything! And we are not even there yet!”

“We could be in a few years. The Crusaders are agitating for a invasion, momentum is shifting towards our return to the Inner Sphere to restore the Star League, and it seems the verdict is sooner than later.” His eyes took on a fervent glow as he thought about the restoration of the Star League, the hope and promise for all humanity.

“And if we do start our return, I do not want to stuck here.” Jazelyn said. “Back into the action, that is where we truly belong.”

Varro nodded in agreement. “I feel the same way, yet we must sometimes sacrifice our personal happiness for the good of the clan. It was Oathmaster Biccon Winters who gave us this sacred duty of finding the nova cat who would be the one to break the broadsword.”

“Or fall under its blow.” She countered.

“Not if we do our job well. Preparing these warriors as best as we can also serves our clan. Unlike many other training centers manned by disgruntled and aging warriors, we are relatively better motivated, which translates into better scores. This batch of cadets has had some of the best scores for the past several breeding cycles. And I do not think that is a fluke genetic boon.”

“That hardly matters to us. You are trying to justify to yourself the reasons for staying here.”

“Maybe. But we have been given our tasks by the clan, and no matter what we feel about them, we must strive to fulfill them.”

He added, “If you really feel that you cannot stay here, then I can make the arrangements for you to transfer to a combat unit.”

Varro sighed, “But I would wish you to consider carefully.”

She held up her hand in denial. “I am not asking for a transfer. I just want to be sure that we are doing, well, something significant here.”

“We are. We just have to hope in our quest, that it is not an empty one.”

 

“Des?” A voice shook him out of his sleep.

“What?” Des replied drowsily, with a bit of irritation in his voice as well. “Feelia, is it? Can it wait until morning?”

A hand clamped over his mouth. “Shhh! Keep quiet! Do not wake the others up!”

His curiosity piqued, Des sat up on his bed. He stared at Feelia at a while before she pulled back her hand. “Okay, so what is the problem?”

“I need to know how you were able to kill all the drones so easily today.”

“You could have asked me after the exercise.”

“Not with everyone glancing over my shoulder. I do not need snide comments and insults coming my way from Ori.” Her shoulders slumped. “I am going for another run tomorrow, and I have to pass it, or else I am out. I really need your help.”

Des thought to himself, what is the harm in telling her anyway? He nodded mentally.

“All right, I will help you. Now listen very carefully. I saw what happened today. I think you took too much time making sure of your shot. While that confirms a kill, sometimes speed is more important than accuracy, especially when you are facing multiple foes, all coming at you. Be confident in your targeting, and fire once you get even a partial lock. You do not even need to be one hundred percent accurate when shooting at a clump of drones. Even if you missed, it would probably hit one of the other drones near it.” Des shrugged. “Luck also plays a small part, but I guess until somebody figures out a way to challenge Lady Luck to a Trial of Position, she would always be capricious in her choices.”

“Lady Luck? Who is that? I do not understand you sometimes.”

“Never mind.” Des hurriedly waved off the comment. He did not need anyone finding out about the small store of holodisks he had found one day in a salvage dump after an exercise.

He had managed to fix up an old hand projector to run the disks, and it had remained a secret source of entertainment and information to him. He ran the old holovids whenever he was alone in a hidden corner of the facility, and he was constantly on the lookout for more disks to add to his collection.

“What matters is that you must be constantly aware of what is going on around you. How many drones are left, the amount of time for your laser to discharge, the distance between you and the drones. These are the three basic factors for the run, and for practically every other mech run, I suspect.”

“So why did they not teach us these? And how did you know such stuff anyway?”

I learnt them from old military training holovids, but that would take more explanation than I am willing to give right now. Des yawned.

“Look, it does not matter if they did not tell us. It does not even matter how I know about these things. It is very late, and we have a long day ahead of us. As long as you know, and I know, that should be good enough.”

“You are a strange person, Des. The others, save perhaps for Deserk and Lintya, would not have lifted a finger to help. You act all aloof and cold, but when it comes to somebody in need of help, you are often the first one to offer a hand. So what are you up to?”

Des tried to look innocent. “Why does everybody assume that I have some ulterior motive in mind?”

“Because you seem almost too good to be true.” Feelia left this final rejoinder as she went back to her own bed. Too far away to protest, Des could only grumble to himself.

“Too good to be true, eh?” A voice from his left whispered.

“Deserk, you are supposed to be asleep.”

“How can I keep my eyes shut with the two of you talking away? I should have known you were holding out on us. How many more pieces of information do you have that can help us?”

“How would I know? What I told Feelia was what I had come to realize during the run itself.”

“Are you sure the holovids had nothing to do with it?”

Des could swear he could hear Deserk’s smile, even if he could not see it. There was a long pause.

“How did you know?”

“You do not really expect to sneak off and not have anyone come across you at times, quiaff? I do not know if the others are aware, but since there is gain in the information from the holovids, I expect you to tell us next time if there is anything in them that could help us. For the good of the sibko, quiaff?”

“Aff, for the good of the sibko. But if you tell anyone else of this, I will beat you so bad you will not walk for a month. We are not supposed to have such material.”

“Aff, my lips are sealed. After all, it is to everybody’s gain.”

Just wonderful. Oh well, there is no real honor in being better because of a hidden advantage anyway. No, I will prove myself to be the best on level terms. As he went back to sleep, Des kept telling himself that.