Chapter 5: Aurora

Washington's first day at Aurora base. He meets a new friend and a new enemy, and learns the penalties for destruction of public property.

True to their word, reveille played over the com at five am on the dot. We all rolled out of bed, straightened the beds, pulled on pants and boots, and headed out to the exercise room. My head hurt from lack of sleep and food, and I couldn't think straight enough to do anything but follow orders.

Jersey and Sassy both said I'd get used to it; they both had been there a few days and were bloody perky that morning. First the warm-up stretches, then the calisthenics, followed by a long run on the treadmill with Arizona telling us all, “Get a move on, keep up! Get those flabby bodies in shape! Sam and Guam won't be this lenient.” My collar itched, my body hurt, and I had trouble keeping up.

Three hours later, I was asleep again on the transport.

* * * * * * * *

I woke up when Sassy passed me a protein bar. It tasted awful, but I was hungry enough to eat it anyways. “We 'bout there?” I asked sleepily, taking a large bite.

“They said another hour or two,” she replied, eating her own bar, “So Wash, how was your first P.T.?”

I just glared at her. She and Jersey had apparently done the same warm-ups every morning for the past three days, and while they still struggled with the exercises it didn't wipe them out as much as it had me. I would have said something clever, but I was distracted by the person across from us.

“Kirkland's here?” I asked. The medic was busily reading something off a data tablet.

Maddie looked over at him. “Yeah. He's the other volunteer besides Jersey.”

The medic looked up. “If I'm to be back on duty,” he said, “I suppose you'd better call me MD.”

“MD?”

“Maryland,” Sassy whispered to me, “it's his processing name.”

“Although if you insist on calling me Kirkland, I much prefer that to my agent name.”

I grinned over at him, “Kirkland it is then. Does it matter what you call us?”

“Well I know your name is Delton, correct?” he asked, as though it didn't matter to him one way or the other, “and Kansas and Jersey?”

“Actually, my old name was David,” I corrected, “and my new one is Washington.”

“Hm? Oh, yes, right, David.” He smiled back at me. “Started with a 'D' in any case. 'Washington,' then?”

“It'll do.”

Arizona passed by, maybe checking on us, maybe going to the bathroom, I didn't care, but Kirkland stopped him, saying, “Rizo, just the person. Could you explain this to me?”

Rizo looked at the data pad he was holding. “Seems self-explanatory to me, MD. Check on Charlie and Delta as soon as we land at Aurora.”

“But it says that I will still be responsible for looking after Delta,” Kirkland answered.

“Yes.”

“So who will look after Echo in my absence?”

Rizo sighed. “I already have two others looking after him.” He pointed to something on the data pad. “Remember, they had a connection before, as well.”

“Their connection was through Delta, and me!” Kirkland protested, “I really should get back; who knows what might happen!”

“I assure you, MD, he has his father's talent with robotics, and so does she. They'll be fine on Indigo for two years.” As Kirkland started to protest again, Rizo cut him off with a glance around the cabin. “No more, alright? If you have a problem, take it up with Raider.”

* * * * * * * *

We arrived at Aurora a couple hours later, but then waited on the shuttle for another hour. During the descent I had a chance to view the surrounding area. I hadn't been on Earth since the Devonian's first attack on my home. I remembered seeing a lot of blue and green when I was a kid, and since the station didn't have very many windows I was eager for another close look at my homeworld.

I had known that England wasn't the only casualty, but I'd had no idea exactly how much destruction the Devonians had caused.

Population centers were targeted first; Europe had blotches of brown and gray where the capitol cities used to be. The coasts of North America were desolate; survivors had moved inland, those who weren't evacuated to the lunar colonies or space stations. Even Asia had a quarter of its land blown away.

Most of me shook with rage. Who were these Devonians, that they hated us so much? But a part of me, a very small part, wondered what humanity could have don to deserve such brutality.

The only continents left untouched were Australia, South America, Antarctica, and Africa. Our shuttle was heading for the last of these, in the middle of the desert.

Aurora base was a military compound, with about a dozen buildings surrounded by an enormous wall to keep out the desert. It was far from any other civilization, and was crawling with soldiers.

Rizo and Kirkland got off the shuttle first, then called each of us out one by one for another physical examination. As the shuttle doors opened, I was surprised by the hot air that came in. Having lived most of my life on the station, I was unprepared for the bright light of the sun, or the dry Saharan heat. Jersey and Sassy were not much better off. As we waited in the shuttle, which seemed to get hotter by the minute, our shirts got soaked through with sweat. Soon, though, the agents finished their own exams and the rookies were called.

Of course, with a name as dumb as “Washington,” I had to be at the end of the alphabetical list. Jersey smirked at us as for once he was called first, but Sassy was called soon after. When they finally got down to me I eagerly got off the shuttle, wincing slightly as I stretched out my sore legs. Rizo pointed me over to a building ten yards behind me, saying that I'd better hurry if I wanted lunch. Jogging over, hunger helping me move, Kirkland met me there. “I'm to give you a check-up,” he said, sitting me down on a bench as he pulled his scanner out of his satchel. He seemed in a bad mood, so I didn't say anything as he poked and prodded that scanner everywhere it would reach.

“You are in perfect health,” he announced when he was finished, “Naturally.” Finally, he took off the collar and replaced it with a two inch wide metallic wristband. "This will tell you your daily schedule, as well as keep track of your whereabouts on missions," he explained, showing me a small screen. "Now, if you want food, I suggest you hurry. Orientation is in less than a half-hour."

Pointing me to the mess hall, I managed to make it there and grab some food just as Jersey and Sassy were about finished. “Hurry up, Wash,” Jersey said as I sat down, “You've got about ten minutes before we get the grand tour of this place.”

I scarfed down my food, barely finishing before a metal sphere about the size of a basketball floated over our table. it told us in a female voice.

“Whoa,” Vermont exclaimed, “Never seen that before.”

“Go with it, guys,” Sinbad whispered to us from the next table, “Rory gets annoyed when we don't listen to her.”

The nine of us stood up and followed “her,” joined by a bunch of others that seemed to have come from other ships. It led us outside the mess hall, stopping in front of the launch pad that we arrived at.

“Wow, they had to work to make that one fit,” I muttered.

it whirred for a second, then floated out to the center of the landing pad.

I perked up at the word "Devonians". So we were going to fight them? After seeing what had happened to the Earth, after what had happened to my family, I couldn't wait.

ced at the end of their first three months,> Rory continued,

The floating sphere rose one meter before telling us,

Rory moved faster than any of us could walk as she led us on a tour of the base. We jogged to keep up as she pointed out the mess hall, the storage rooms, the training hall, the classrooms, the outdoor track, and even the science buildings. By the time she got to the last of these, we were panting from the exertion and the heat. She told us that these, too, were off limits to us, before leading us off again, back to the landing pad.

A man was waiting for us there, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Rory introduced,

With that, the sphere floated off to another part of the base. We were left with a surly-looking man, who looked at us as though we were bugs. "You are the sorriest lot I've ever had the misfortune to train," he told us, "And you call yourselves soldiers. Pathetic."

He uncrossed his arms and clasped his hands behind his back. Somehow, he looked even more imposing than he had before. "I'm here to give you an overview of how each day is going to be," he said, "Your wristband will wake you up at oh-five-hundred each morning. By oh-five-thirty you are to be dressed and ready for P.T., which will be held down at the track. Your beds are to be made, your personal items are to be organized, and those barracks are to be spotless before you even think about coming to P.T."

Throughout the entire speech, he didn't move. In short sentences, straight to the point, he told us the general daily schedule. We'd exercise in the morning, and in the afternoon, but at mid-day, whatever we did, would be inside. "Do you feel the heat out here?" Sam asked us in a loud voice, "It is ninety degrees in the shade, and this is a chilly day. None of you want to suffer heatstroke, so the hottest part of the day will be indoors." We would be allowed to move around the facility after lights out, but not a single light would be operating, so we'd have to go in the dark.

"Most of you have probably noticed the wall," Sam continued, "It is there to keep the desert out. There will be days you will be required to run the perimeter during P.T. You are allowed outside at any point; but be warned, the next water isn't for fifty miles, at least. I would think twice before taking your chances out there."

I think all of us took his words to heart; most of us had never been in this heat before, and were already wanting water from our run around the base. He then told us to report to the mess hall to get water, then to the barracks for room assignments. First, though, we grabbed our bags from the landing area, where the duffels with our spare uniforms and personal stuff were left after we landed.

* * * * * * * *

Not fifteen minutes later we all gathered around the outside of the barracks, which were two smallish buildings whose sole purpose was to be living space for the soldiers. The thirty of us were shepherded into the second one, where a large screen in the front hall told us where we would be sleeping.

"I'm in five," Sassy told us, looking for our names as well, "You guys are both in seven."

"So I'm 'Wash' now?" I asked.

"Well, we could always call you 'Ton'," she said, grinning.

I shook my head. "I'm fine with it," I told her, adding, "Sass," for emphasis.

We headed to our rooms, which were next to each other on the left side of the hall. The room was about twice the size of my family's quarters back on the station, and was simply furnished with ten dorm-size beds. Six of these were already claimed, judging by the people sitting in them.

Jersey and I chose beds at the back of the room, closer to the window. At the foot of each bed was an empty locker where we could put our clothes, which I promptly unpacked from my duffel bag. My spare uniform was slightly crumpled, so I shook it out and put it on the bed next to mine while I went to unpack my personal bag.

"Hey," came a deep voice from behind me, "That's my bed." The voice belonged to the guy who then reached over and threw my uniform on the ground.

He was big, bigger than anyone I had seen before. The blond guy in front of me had to be almost three meters tall, with broad shoulders and thick biceps. His hair was shaved down like everyone else's, but it made his ears look huge. His round face was interrupted by a pointed chin, and his blue eyes were deceptively round. He spoke with a slight German accent, but sounded as if he had been spending a lot of time in the Americas.

"Keep your stuff to yourself," he said, "Or next time I toss it in the garbage bin."

I grabbed my uniform off the ground as I stood up to face him. "Piss off," I said, glaring at him as Jersey came over to stand next to me. Sam had warned us about keeping our uniforms clean - or else be prepared for punishment duty. The guy cracked his knuckles, as if he was hoping for a fight, but we were interrupted by another roommates.

"Knock it off, you three," said a small brunette, "We all have to live together, and none of us needs bad blood on the first day. I'm not going to listen to it, you hear?" She looked from one of us to the other, daring us to disagree.

Reluctantly, I was the first to back down. "Fine," I said, offering my hand, "It won't happen again."

He ignored my pro-offered hand, going over to his bed and sitting down. "Whatever," he said, staring up at the ceiling.

The girl and I looked at each other. She shrugged, shaking my hand. "My name's Ana," she said, "What's yours?"

"Wash," I replied, remembering the nickname that Sassy had given me, "Short for Washington. And this is Jersey." My friend just nodded.

Ana giggled. "Mine's short for Louisiana," she said, before introducing our other roommates. "The lump over there," she gestured to the German guy, who was still lying down, "is Vermont. The others are..." she pointed them out, and each one either waved or said "hi".

The room had nine people in it so far, including Jersey and me, with one more expected the next day. Everyone had just arrived within the previous two days, and had already started with the schedule Sam had described. Apparently we were in the middle of free hour, since most everybody was either reading, writing letters, or just relaxing.

One by one, we met Jackson, Leigh (Raleigh), Tuck (Kentucky), Monty (Montana), and Nevada. We chatted for a bit - told where we were from, complained about the heat, and so on - before our wristbands all gave off a small alarm. The others, who had had time to get used to it, automatically checked their wrists while Jersey and I looked around to see where the sound was coming from.

Taking my cue from the others, I looked down at my own wrist, which showed the words Mess Hall - Dinner, 5 min on the screen. The others immediately got up and walked out the door, with me following along close behind.

There was a mass exodus from the barracks as all of the recruits headed to the Mess. We met up with Sassy, who had been waiting for me and Jersey, outside. We managed to grab a few seats close together for dinner, so we could chat.

Before we managed to grab our food, though, Sam stood up on a chair and called for attention. "For the newcomer's benefit," he said, "I have a few announcements.

"You have now met your teams; for the duration of these three months, you and your teammates will train together, room together, learn together, and eat together. If one member of your squad isn't finished with P.T., or has punishment duty, or is even just late, then no one from your squad can eat. You will be interdependent for your freedom, so I would suggest you learn to like each other. There is no switching, no trading, you are stuck with each other for the next three months. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Instructor," came the call from around the Mess. Apparently, that was how we were supposed to address him.

"Now, as most of you already know," he continued, "After dinner comes Base Chores. Each squad's chores are posted here." He pointed to a screen that listed all of the teams next to a list of chores for the base. "The remaining twenty people will arrive tomorrow, and then your real training will begin. I suggest you get to bed early tonight, and pay close attention tomorrow."

With that he jumped down from the chair, and we were allowed to get food. Sassy held our place at the table while Jersey and I got food, then we held her seat open for her. "So what do you think?" she asked us as she sat back down.

Through a mouthful of mashed potatoes I managed, "Not sure."

"Seems tough," Jersey said, letting his fork hover in front of his face as he spoke. "Might be hard to work together."

"What do you mean?" Sassy asked as I kept eating.

Jersey shrugged. "One guy was off in his own little world this afternoon. Could be that he was just tired, but it didn't help that Wash provoked him."

"He dumped my uniform on the floor," I protested.

"It shouldn't have been on his bed," Jersey countered, "We can't leave the barracks messy, and that means no spreading out. I've seen your room on the station," he reminded me, "You can't live like a slob here."

My eyes narrowed as I took the next bite. "I shared that room with three other people, thank you," I said, "and your room wasn't exactly pristine, either."

He shrugged. "Whatever you say," he replied, "but keep your stuff to your own bed."

Aside from the obvious potential hazard, I liked the squad. They seemed decent enough, and even Vermont looked like he might be good to have on my side - his size alone would send enemies running. If there were any squad-on-squad fights, I liked our odds.

When we finished eating, we met our teams for the evening chores. The screen said that Squad 7 was supposed to clean the barracks, so Jersey and I said good-bye to Sassy and walked back.

"Over here!" Ana called, waving us over to the front entrance. "I have our orders." All nine of us stood together in a bunch to listen. "We need to clean the bathrooms, the showers, the common room, and the hallway," she told us, reading off of a notepad, "The hallway seems easy enough; we just have to sweep. The common room we have to sweep and dust, and pick up anything left out. The bathrooms and the showers need to be scrubbed down, so they'll take the most manpower. So, any volunteers?"

Tuck was the first to volunteer, so he got the hallway. Leigh and Nevada got the common room, Jackson, Jersey, and Ana snagged the showers, so that left Montana, Vermont, and me to do the bathrooms.

As we opened the door, I said, "At least they can't be too bad - we've only been here a few days."

Montana just groaned and Vermont ignored me as they pushed their way into the room. It was a normal public bathroom, with the urinals up against the far wall, and ten stalls to our left, with the sinks to our right. The room was decently large, being the only bathroom in a barracks meant for one hundred people. A tall cabinet stood in the corner next to the door, where we found the cleaning supplies before we tried to divide the work.

I say, tried.

"Why do I have to do the toilets?" Montana demanded, reaching for the floor brush, "I'd be better at the floors."

Vermont shrugged, took a spray-bottle and headed for the sinks. "Hey," I called, "so I'm left with the dirty work? How is that fair?"

"You're the newest," Vermont shot back, "and we've been working out all day. Why shouldn't you do it?"

"Well, can't we play rock-paper-scissors or something for it?" I suggested. Vermont came back over to tower over me, trying to use his height to intimidate me. I refused to fall for it, straightening my own back to be as tall as I could. He grabbed the toilet cleaner and shoved it into my chest.

Of course, I couldn't let that go. "You do them, then," I said, shoving it back at him.

He dropped the spray-bottle and shoved me again, harder. I grabbed his arm, trying to get him into a full Nelson, but his arms were like rocks. Instead, he pulled his arm back as hard as he could; I was too surprised to let go, so I stumbled forward into one of the sinks behind him, knocking the water pipe loose.

My pants got soaked as I staggered up, but I was too focused on trying to beat the giant. I yelled as I jumped onto his back, wrapping my arm around his neck. We fell back, my back slamming into a bathroom stall before we hit the ground.

The next thing I knew, we were on the floor, looking up at the rest of our squad who in turn stared at us. I let go of Vermont's neck, trying to get to my knees as he gasped to get air back in his lungs. Jersey closed his eyes and shook his head, while Ana turned an interesting shade of red.

"It's the FIRST DAY!" she yelled, throwing her hands out in a defeated gesture, "You - I - but - gah!" Jersey put his hand on her shoulder as she sputtered at us, clearly at a loss for words harsh enough for our behavior.

"What happened?" my friend asked me. He looked me straight in the eye, and somehow he knew exactly what the fight was about. The guy knew me too well.

Vermont started to say something, but Jersey held up a hand to quiet him. Surprisingly, he backed off. "What happened?" he repeated, his tone deceptively calm. I turned my head away and muttered my answer.

"Sorry, buddy," Jersey said, "didn't quite catch that."

I tried to plead with him with my eyes, but his face was like stone, stuck in a polite smile. Finally, I sighed. "We couldn't split the work," I told them.

Vermont and Montana both tried to talk then, but Jersey held up one finger to quiet them. "I know you better than that, Davy," he said, using my real name like he used to.

I looked at the ceiling. "I didn't want to be stuck with the toilets, okay? I'm sorry."

Jersey looked back at Ana; I hadn't realized that he had moved forward, and that I had taken a step or two back. He turned around to walk back to the group, where Ana seemed to have recovered enough to tell us off.

"You idiots are going to get us in trouble," she spat, "If you boys have a problem, take it outside after finishing the work. Look at this place!"

I winced when I saw one of the stall doors hanging off of its hinges, and the water all over the floor from a pipe under the sink that was knocked loose. Montana, to his credit, turned off the water when he saw it, and was trying to fix the door. But that wasn't the worst of it.

"The rest of the building looks good," came a gruff voice from the doorway, "but this place is a sty." Sam walked in and grabbed both me and Vermont by the collars, lifting us off the floor. "Didn't anybody ever teach you that water is a precious commodity in the desert?" he asked, throwing us backwards into the mess. "Now someone tell me what happened here."

The others all stood at attention, as Vermont and I tried picking ourselves up. Jersey shook his head at me from behind the Instructor, but when we were standing I said, "He started it, he - "

I didn't see the blow coming. I since learned that Sam had pulled his punch, or else I might have passed out. As it was, it knocked me to my knees. "I don't care who bloody started it," Sam shouted, "and I don't want to hear any excuses. I want this mess cleaned up in the next half-hour, then you two report to me at the track. Hooah?"

"Yes, Instructor," we mumbled, as I tried to get to my feet again.

"I didn't hear you," he warned.

"Yes, Instructor!" we shouted back in unison. He grabbed our wristbands and typed something in.

"The rest of you," he said to all of the others, "Can go to bed. You all will get up to meet me at the track an hour before P.T. tomorrow."

"Yes, Instructor," they all said, while trying not to glare at us. Sam finished whatever he was doing to our wristbands and stormed out the door.

Ana shook her head at us, while the others all glared. "I hope you two are satisfied," she shot at us, "Because if there's a next time, you both will lose." With that, she led the others back to the room, leaving Vermont and me to pick up the bathroom.

A half-hour later, our wristbands started to vibrate. We headed out the door to the track, just as everyone else came in to the barracks for bed. It was well past dark, but that was actually a good thing for us. When we got to the track, Sam immediately started us on push-ups.

"You two have too much energy," he told us, as we struggled to comply, "that's the only reason there should ever be fighting, and I will personally work it out of you before morning."

After so many push-ups that we started struggling, we ran a mile around the track, then did so many sit-ups that I threw up. We ran another mile, and had to go another lap doing what Sam called a "walking lunge", before running yet another mile. When I thought we couldn't possibly do more, he set us to burpees, which basically had us jumping up and then falling down to the ground, repeatedly.

We'd been out there an hour and a half by the time we finished our fourth mile, and both of us were on the verge of collapse. "Alright," Sam said when we finally finished the last lap, "Go to bed. Report tomorrow morning with the rest of your squad before P.T. If I catch you two breaking anything else, I won't go so easy on you. Hooah?"

"Yes, Instructor," we both managed to say. We could barely move, let alone speak, so he didn't comment of the fact that it wasn't in unison.

As we limped back to the barracks, I said, "So, no more fighting?"

Vermont ignored me. He pulled ahead, beating me back to the room and collapsing on his bed. I fell down on to mine, too tired to even yawn, and fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.

Author's Note

I'm basing the training partially from the Special Forces, but mostly from the French Foreign Legion. It has changed around a lot, so if you spot any inconsistencies I'd appreciate a heads-up!!