Chapter Eight:

Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, Archer, Sara Nubran Lunar Base

May 1, 7215

An hour later and Brandon along with some seventy others were all sitting inside a white auditorium like chamber.

After exiting the elevator they were lead into a series of offices and warehouses. There they were each subjugated to a series of health tests. Follow by immune boosting shots and a House Nubran Titan Jock nanite shot. The nanites would grant them access through the House Nubran security systems, thus unlocking the House owned Titans. Or, at least whatever titans they were given permission to pilot.

Afterward they were taken to a quartermaster and issued their standard issue gear. As Brandon looked at each item the nanites in his eyes illuminated them, with a soft yellow white border before a see-through details box appeared in a personal heads up display. Name: Pk-268L

CR: 0.15

Class/Design: Infantry Light Ballistic Pistol

Weight: 2.1lbs.

Owner: Freesource

A simple yet effective military grade pistol. Light weight and sleek of design this weapon has been seen use as a personal or military issued weapon for over a thousand years, when a large weapon just will not do. The pistol fires a 0.003 caliber enriched tungsten sliver.

Name: Pr 17

CR: 0.1

Class/Design: Combat knife

Weight: 0.6lbs

Owner: Freesource

A basic nanite etched carbon edged combat knife.

Name: XRX-27 Smartcloth Battle Dress Uniform

Armor: 0.15

Class/Design: Nanofiber protective Battle Dress Uniform

Weight: 1.5lbs

Owner: Freesource

Composed of highly adaptive nanite fibers this battle dress uniform is fully customizable. Fully capable of adjusting to the wearers size. It can also change colors and designs as needed. It even provides some limited form of protection. When in standby mode the uniform will return to a three-inch-long by inch wide control stick, where damage is repaired, and the nanofibers are cleaned.

Name: VRTOL- Plasma Cooling Vest

Armor: 0

Class/Design: Light Cooling Vest

Weight: 8.2lbs

Owner: Freesource

This advanced plasma filled cooling vest can stand alone or plug in to a central cooling system for greater effectiveness.

His uniform automatically adjusted, creating holsters for the weapons. A thigh holster on his right leg for the pistol and a sheath on his left leg. He wasn’t sure about the placement until he received the vest. Afterward it was clear that anything placed upon his waist would be inaccessible. Where the pistol and blade looked sleek and high tech the vest was thick, chunky, and ugly. Its’ puke green color was only slightly better than the odd sloshing sounds it made while he moved wearing it.

Brandon’s skin crawled pulling him from his unpleasant inspection of his new gear. Looking around he soon saw they cause. Across the room the Afghan man was staring hate filled brown orbs at him. The man had twice more attempted to accost Brandon’s little group. Each time a well-timed interruption or a soft cough from a nurse cut the encounter short. Brandon smiled and gave the man a small wave.

Fury washed over the hate filled mug as he stood explosively. He began to storm over with fist clenched. He only took a few steps however before a door that was previously invisible on the front wall opened.

Everyone who had been sitting suddenly shot to their feet, standing at attention. Ten purple uniformed individuals entered and began walking toward the middle of the raised stage like platform located there.

As they neared chairs rose from the white stage. Between the seats and the edge of the platform a lectern smoothly grew.

The first nine sat on the chairs while the last moved to the lectern. He was a grey-haired man. Weathered features belied the cunning gleam in his nearly gold eyes.

The already fairly quiet room grew so still the breathing of the audience seemed loud. As the man stepped up to the lectern with a military precise stomp he spoke in a voice rough from years of smoke and drink, “At ease. Take your seats”

Sitting Brandon studied the other people behind the man. Five men and four women all with the looks of warriors sat back studying the room, whispering with their neighbors, or in one case clearly working through commands in her personal HUD.

“My name is Lord Knight Andrew Nubran. Me and my knights will be responsible for training you rix begotten lumps of tube slime into something approaching Titan Jocks.”

His tone of voice and expression belied his words, they remained neutral even when his words clearly spoke distaste. “I have been ordered against my advice to train you lot. You will be the first ever vat born Titan Jocks. That is if any of you survive and pass. My great nephew is breaking from a thousand years of tradition and allowing you lot to become more than just the fodder your kind are meant to be. Please prove me right and fail over the next twelve weeks. Then I can show his Lordship that even with his need, Vat slime can’t be true Jocks. “

Brandon shifted in his seat the man’s complete lack of facial expression or voice inflection unnerved him. The way the Lord Knight stared at the wall as if not even deeming it worthwhile to look at them angered him.

“There is Eighty of you in here right now. I have been ordered to create only one company of Vat-born Jocks. For those of you who cannot count that is 20 Jocks. Some of you might live long enough to become Titan mechanics and might even do well enough to be able to lead a crew. However, most of you will die.”

The way the man spoke as if he didn’t care continued to eat at Brandon’s fuse.

“Now don’t think you will die like real Jocks inside a Titan’s cockpit. No you lot will be placed in simulator pods. For the first four weeks we will keep the training wheels on. After that, the pod will inflict upon you any damage that you would suffer in a real Titan. If your rixing grey matter cannot learn in a training environment, then there is no way we will trust you in a billion credit machine. Have faith though rixers my nephew has some of the best paid medical staff on hand. They will pull you from your pod and save your life if it can be saved. In a real fight you may have to wait for hours or even days for medical help, so feel grateful.”

With those words he did a precise about face and marched out of the room. As the door slid shut one of the women got up and moved to the lectern.

“My name is Knight captain Nowell. As I call your names please stand. She began to quickly call out names.

“The second name she called was McDew, so Brandon stood. The small group who had come in with him looked at him with mixed expression as he stood. The Asian woman glowered. While the Latin guy and the Amazonian woman smiled at him. The redheaded woman just looked confused. More people were called and stood, but none of the others were called. Second to last was the Afghan man. He stood spine straight and eyes forward, standing at attention proudly.

Finishing up the last name she went on. “Congratulations to those of you who are standing. You have been selected by merit to receive a promotion from Junior Knights to full Knights. You will thus be in direct command of a platoon of Titans.”

Brandon looked around at the others standing. Most stood straight not looking around. A few though like him, cared less for the decorum and took the moment to scope out the competition. Because anyone with half a brain cell knew that yes, they were all on the same team. Yet, if they had listened to the Lord Knight their training would not be fully friendly. Not all of the men and women now standing would be alive in just a few weeks.

“Over the next two weeks you will all be tested in various combat and command simulations. Based upon your results you will be ranked and allowed to choose from eh pool of Knight Recruits to build your team.

“Once each team is organized, myself or one of the others behind me will choose two platoons and begin your training. By the end of Week 4, when the simulations turn active we will each choose one platoon to move on. The other will become subs and mechanic candidates.”

“Knights follow me.” She turned and began to move toward the door they entered from. Brandon exit the rows of chairs and joined the line heading out. As he moved another of the Instructors moved to the lectern.

“The rest of you will also be tested and ranked. Your results will then be given to your future platoon commander for selection. As their ranks let them choose the team they desire. Your ranks highlight your strengths and weaknesses…” The speech went on, but Brandon could not hear anymore after stepping from the room.

With no ceremony or breaks they were led to a massive chamber full of grey circles. The ball like machines stood nearly seven meters tall and half that in width and depth. No seams, lights or any other indication to show what they were used for was visible.

“Each of you step in front of one pod.” The Knight Captain barked in a bored voice. The pods were set up in five rows of four. Exactly like a full Titan company, Brandon thought dryly.

As Brandon stepped in front of one a screen appeared at chest height. The screen showed a diagnostic of the pod. It was currently empty and was reading as 100% operational.

“Now you Rixing lot. Place your left hand on the pod and say ‘Assign Unit’ to allow you access. This pod will be your bed, bathroom, workspace, a and in general your life for the next 4 days.”

Brandon did not like the way that sounded but did as he was told. He placed his hand on the pod which highlighted his hand in a green outline. A yellow strip started at the top and moved down his hand quickly, “Assign Unit.”

The pod chimed as his personnel status sheet appeared. A full 3-D rendition of himself stood there nude and spinning. His complete statistics were labeled and easy to see. Height, Weight, eye, hair, Age. All the basics. Then it scrolled to his primary and secondary statistics. Followed by his system recognized skills. Lastly his affiliation, rank, and military service flashed on the screen.

Brandon barely had time to glance over everything before it vanished. In a husky English sounding voice the pod said, “Biometrics scanned. Synchronization complete. Assign Pod 4G-5.1 now?”

With a nod Brandon said yes. Other confirmations could be heard for those nearby. A second later the lights around his hand vanished. Dropping his hand Brandon was about to turn back to the Lord Knight for further instruction when a seam appeared in the previously solid looking pod. In a few heartbeats the seam formed a full arch; suddenly a set of stairs flowed from the pod, creating an opening in to the dark interior.

Glancing over his shoulder Brandon saw that the Knight Lord looked bored, so with a sigh Brandon stepped up the steps.

He had to duck slightly to avoid hitting his head on the opening. Once inside the steps flowed closed sealing him in the dark interior.

With a start Brandon felt something snake around his ankles and then something else grabbed his wrists before he could react. Pulling he tried to pull free and fight back. A shout pulled from his throat as another one wrapped around his waist then his forehead. In a few seconds he was fully unable to move. Something in the darkness removed his vest and he could feel more things removing his knife and side arm. Then to his utter dismay he felt his uniform flow off his skin.

“Oh no fucking way! I never signed up to be tentacle raped!”

His fears were realized a moment later when something engulfed his manhood. A tiny prick let him know he was just devirginized. Gritting his teeth he braced for what was next. The cold penetration was less painful than he expected but still fucking sucked to have some unknown item shoved up his ass.

The final straw though was when a nozzle shot up his nose and down his throat. He gagged as it entered his stomach. Completely violated and infuriated Brandon did not even notice when the pods cool interior began to fill with a warm liquid. At least not until it was nearly past his ass.

He tried to pull free of the bindings again but was still held utterly still. As the liquid moved to his chest he could feel a tingle begin to numb his skin.

As it reached his face he began to panic. Gasping he tried to hold his breath but a twist of the tendril in his throat made him gag and inhale the liquid. To his surprise he was able to breathe the odd fluid. More over as it spread over his eyes the dim lights that had begun to show in the pod cleared into a full panoramic vision.

An instant later Brandon found himself standing in a war-torn city. He was wearing the now familiar light armor of an Infantry soldier. Including his weapon.

“Socman, the rixing enemies are trying to outflank us! They are on the west and north. A squad is working south as we speak. What are your orders?”

Brandon looked over his shoulder the young Dreg. She was panicked and cleared had seen some combat. Her armor was covered in dust and had a few tears or puncture holes. He could see red puckered skin over her left breast where a nanite shot had clearly been used to rapidly heal a recent wound. Six other soldiers were spread around him kneeling or standing behind cover, each forming a basic perimeter.

“Socman?”

Brandon snapped out of his confusion. “We need to move out! In twos to the west. Go! Go! GO”

As the first pair shot forward making a beeline for cover the concrete wall next to Brandon’s head suddenly had a couple centimeter deep holes in it. It took his mind a moment of staring at the holes in fascination to realize; Bullets make noise and break things. Lasers put holes in things…

His dive to the ground saved his life. A sudden alter on his helmets HUD warned him that his shoulder lost nearly two thirds of its armor. Rolling he looked around saw a pair of troops wearing the colors of House Nubran’Due purple with silver and teal running at his squad. Raising his rifle he took a shot as the two soldiers covering that section also popped up to fire from their cover. His helmet created a much slower beam of light from his weapons and those of his men to their targets. Thus allowing them to see where they were hitting. The charging soldiers took shots to their chest pieces, armor blacking and cracking or just deeply pitting. One of his men held his weapons trigger down creating a sustained beam that tore through the enemy’s armor on the right. But as the beam created a full tunnel and passed through the fire stopped abruptly as the man’s weapon shut down from overheating. The weapons rifling glowed a dull red and steam rose from eh weapon in shimmering waves.

“Move it people!” He shouted once more…

Brandon lost track of the scenarios he found himself in. The first one ended when he got his survive squad to a Forward Operating Base or FOB. The massive tracked structure was a marvel of modern Nano construction. It could pack or unpack itself in less than an hour. Converting from large tracked behemoth in to a full-blown military base. Better yet they could be customized per deployment for the types of units they were going to support.

Infantry would get a barracks, command center, and armory. Armor units would get repair bays and smaller barracks for drivers and support crews. Aerospace would get landing pads or runways and similar. Even Titans could be managed by the massive structure.

Finally after Brandon took a painful shot to the head on a failed rescue mission, where he was the sole survivor of a planetary dropship sent to recover the scion of some Lord, or the other; the scenarios changed.