The alarm went off at 0500 sharp, the first time it had woken me in months. My eyes opened slowly as I groggily rolled out of my bed and got ready for the day. A slight dull pain had settled in the base of my neck that only distracted me.
Ughh, I think that framework has given me a hangover.
I blinked the pain away and headed out of the bunks with two dozen other recruits. We lined up in the same formation and stood at attention in front of Vance. A few of the surrounding barracks paraded up to ours, conjoining into the formation. Around two hundred bodies lined up side by side.
We drilled for an hour, and by the time Vance called a halt at 0600, nobody was thinking about anything except the next step.
Vance flipped open his datapad. "Hold formation, we have platoon assignments."
Standard placements rolled through first, corporate-sponsored units. A girl who'd given Hsu a fight last month went to Serran Industries. Two of Miller's old clique went to separate battalion platoons. One name got tagged as unassigned pending review.
Miller was the seventh name Vance called.
"Miller, Tobias. Briggs, Andreas. Tiernan Independent Platoon One."
What the hell?!
I kept my eyes forward, and I felt the weight of Miller's head turning a fraction in the corner of my vision.
Vance kept reading.
Osei's network came next, each answering with a sharp 'Yes, Sergeant'. Then my squad — Jin, Tomás, Park, Hsu, Sato, Andrew, Ren — each acknowledged the call in turn. A few others from the barracks were called into my Platoon; the entirety of Barracks 7 now lay under my command.
"Tiernan, Marcus. Platoon Leader, Tiernan Independent Platoon One."
"Yes, Sergeant."
Vance continued on for the rest of what felt like an hour, and the rest of the two hundred were all assigned to a multitude of different platoons. Though one name did pique my interest, 'Huang Haberdashers Platoon One'.
Could that be—
"Squads report to the simulation centre at 0800 for integration with your new platoons. Dismissed. Tiernan, with me."
The yard broke formation, and Jin caught my eye as she passed.
Vance waited until the yard had mostly cleared. Then he turned to face me and spoke quietly.
"Command briefing for platoon leaders this morning. Block Four, Room Twelve. 0730."
"Yes, Sergeant."
"Stand when the colonel enters, and speak only when addressed." He looked at me for a beat longer than required. "You're the only F-Grade platoon leader at this facility. Everyone in that room will know it before you walk in."
Only one in this facility, are there more out there?
"Understood, Sergeant."
"Chow first, then Block Four after. Dismissed."
I stood for a moment after he turned away.
The mess hall was its usual cacophony when I walked in, the platoon assignments of our barracks posted upon the large holoscreen. Acknowledging that I was not dreaming and this was real, I headed over to sit with my squad, wherein Sato had already built a paste structure that was either architecture or art.
I sat down, and Sato had already started speaking.
"So, Platoon Leader Tiernan."
"Not bad, right?"
"You feeling the weight of command? Thinking about the big questions? Contemplating how you're gonna deal with big bad wolf Miller?"
"Hmmm, not yet. For now, I'm trying to eat my paste."
"You sure you want to eat it? Or perhaps you want to add it to my altar of all things bland?"
"Maybe next time, I'm particularly hungry this morning."
Jin watched me from across the table. "Vance kept you."
"Yep, I've got a command briefing at 0730. Block Four."
Park looked up from his paste. "Block Four houses platoon leader operations. Forty-three platoons at this facility, so forty-three leaders. Most corporate, some family, a few independents. You'll be the only F-Grade in the room."
"Seriously, how do you know all this stuff?" I asked.
"Don't you know? Park's the son of one of the instructors," Tomás said.
The entire table turned to look at Park, mouths agape.
"You didn't know?" Park asked.
"No." The entire table, except for Tomás, said in unison.
"Well, now you do, moving on."
"Well, Mr. Son Of An Instructor, any advice?"
"I don't know, you're the trust fund kid. Isn't this like — your bread and butter?" Park said.
"I guess it is. It should be alright. If I can handle Michael and David, then I should be able to handle this."
"That's the spirit!" Sato said.
"You're going to do fine," Hsu added.
"I've got a bad feeling about it."
"That's because you're not stupid," Jin said.
"Are you sure?" Sato snorted.
I finished my paste and saw the 0710 on the wall clock. I pushed back from the table.
Jin touched my elbow as I passed.
"Whoever's in that room, while they've had more resources than you, it doesn't make them better."
"I know."
Block Four sat on the eastern fringes of the compound, further from the barracks than I'd walked in months.
I passed the administrative building where I'd met the Tiernans. The path widened as I went east, concrete giving way to proper paving stones.
The building itself was two storeys and clad in something that looked like stone rather than prefab panelling. A corporal at the door checked my name against a datapad and waved me through without comment.
Room Twelve was up on the second floor, and as I ascended the stairs and headed to the room. From outside the door, I heard at least several dozen voices.
I stopped in the corridor outside for a breath, calmed my nerves and walked in.
The room was large, a tiered seating arrangement that sat in a half-circle around a central podium and holo display. I counted roughly forty seats in total.
Heads turned as I walked in, not all of them, but enough to make me feel uncomfortable. They held their gazes for longer than was polite before redirecting their attention back to whatever they were doing.
I walked to a seat in the third row from the back. Far enough from the podium to stay out of the centre, and close enough to not look like I was hiding. I sat and put my hands flat on the desk.
The kid to my right had a Halden Continental crest, and I caught him staring at me. His eyes went to my collar.
"You're the new guy, Tiernan, is it?"
"That I am."
"Huh."
He turned forward.
Someone in the row ahead of me turned when he said the name.
David Huang.
"Marcus!"
"David," I said, offering a polite wave.
"Sit with me after. We need to catch up."
Someone at the front cleared his throat, and Huang turned back to face the podium.
The podium activated, and an officer in tailored blues walked out. He was in his mid-forties and wore silver oak leaves on his collar.
The room quieted.
"Good morning, platoon leaders. Welcome to your first command briefing. I'm Colonel Westerling. I run platoon-tier operations at this facility."
He flicked on the holo behind him.
"As you know, there are six months remaining in your basic training. I'm here to discuss what you'll be doing in the final stretch of your time here."
The holodisplay shifted, portraying a platoon-scale fight. Two mech platoons battled it out in a zero-gravity environment.
"Your final phase of training will be structured weekly engagements, two platoon engagements each, rotated through a roster."
He paused, letting the room take it in.
"The first three months will be simulation work, where you will train your platoons in dedicated time slots and make sure they are combat-ready. The final three months will be real mech combat. There will be safety parameters to reduce the chances of injury. But do not be fooled, there is still a real chance that something will go wrong."
The holodisplay switched panels and revealed a large table with each of our platoons ranked in alphabetical order.
"Your victories and defeats will be recorded on this table, a loss nets you zero points, a draw one and a win three points. The top five at the end of training will receive rewards. From cultivation materials, skill shards and a custom mech for the winning platoon leader. You will also get corporate sponsorship for your deployment battle group and a deployment location choice from a vetted list."
That's incredible.
"Now, in terms of resources you can gain, as you know, cultivation resources are historically reserved for A and S Grade assignments. We are opening up this right as an experimental pilot development initiative."
The slide showed three categories: Stat tinctures, skill crystals, and raw ether concentrate.
"Weekly engagements begin a week from tomorrow. Matchups post Sunday evening. Your first engagement will be a pair of orientation battles. Designed to familiarise new platoons with the engagement format."
The holodisplay flicked to the final slide.
"You, as Platoon Leaders, hold several responsibilities. From tactical command, squad coordination, training allocation, pilot welfare, and the operational integrity of your unit. Report weekly to your battalion liaison. Command briefings every second Monday. Answer to your sponsor, your battalion, and this office."
He looked out across the room.
"Some of you have commanded before. Some of you are new. All of you will be tested. Matchups post Sunday evening. Dismissed."
The podium dimmed, and people began to file out of the room. I caught David waiting for me at the end of the row. Walking over to him, we exchanged a nod and walked out together.
"It's been a while, David. I've not seen you in six months."
"It has been a while since we last met. But I must confess, I have been watching you during that time."
"Watching me? You're not some stalker, are you?" I joked.
"Haha, very funny, Marcus. I mean the exhibition."
"You were there?"
"Every platoon leader in this facility was there, Marcus. The F slash D exhibition's the only time the rest of us get to scout the new intake before they're assigned. I spent three days watching your squad fight through the brackets."
I stopped walking.
"Ahhh, I see. You were trying to recruit, huh? Did you have me on your wish list?"
"Sure did, I tried my damned hardest to get you, Tiernan. You and that Miller kid." He shook his head. "Put in paperwork for both of you the afternoon of the individual final. Got approval. And then the Tiernan Trust came over the top and took both of you out from under me."
"You filed for Miller and me?"
"Separate squads. Under separate command. I've read enough ops history to know better than to put two strong personalities in the same squad." Huang paused. "But yeah. I watched you and Jin fight in the team phase and thought there's a kid I can build around. Watched Miller flatten Osei in the individual final and thought there's a hammer I can point. Tried for both, and got neither. Story of my damned year."
"Don't I know it."
There was an awkward pause.
"The room knows by the way, the whole F-Grade Prep kid thing."
"And?"
"Well, you seemed to handle yourself fine, but there's going to be a target on your back during the engagements. You've got a few in there that are pissed they let an F-Grade be a platoon leader."
"Any I should particularly look out for?"
David thought for a moment, "Would be easier to tell you who you needn't look out for. Though there is one name that might come back and bite you."
"Oh?"
"Vostok."
"Who's Vostok? I don't recognize the name."
"He was supposed to have your sponsorship." He paused. "Your Trust took it out from under him at the last minute."
"Well, shit."
"He'll come for you first because you're the political threat to his family's sponsorship track. That's what a good commander does when a rival emerges. You should be fine, unless you have to face off against him in the last half of the engagements; he might have an 'accident' occur, letting him take control of your platoon."
"How do you know?"
"Because that's what I'd do."
At the split where Huang's path went east, and mine went back toward the barracks, he stopped.
"The week before the first battle is the most important week of your command, Marcus. Use it."
"I will."
"And don't forget Marcus, top five. That's the prize."
"Thanks for the advice, David, I won't forget it. "
"Make sure you don't, Rabbit."
"How do you—"
"I'll see you in the next briefing." He began walking, leaving me on my track.