Rhidi, her helmet under her arm like Alias, fished around in her auxiliary pouch for her half-eaten pack of pretzels. “Ummm… ah! Yep, got a few left.”
“Awesome.” Alias said with a bright smile as Rhidi handed him the deeply rolled pack of pretzels. “I always get hungry when we’re heading up to vacuum.”
Rhidi sat back in her jump seat as Alias unrolled the crumpled package of pretzels, and stared forward into her drop pod; It was their final jump, their last time falling to Earth for training.
Much as what would be assumed, the first five jumps had been harrowing. Their night jump had been more disorientating than what she had imagined, having to adjust to the night lights within the pod and then pure darkness, while all of them had been a wild ride the entire way down. The very first jump had been a terrifying ordeal, the pod buffeting and shuddering the entire way down until they smashed into the ground, but that fear turned into… something. Something that Rhidi had only just begun to feel during the last legs of the war against the Ur.
Her blood began to jitter just at the thought of climbing into a pod. She had never felt this way all through her old training in the Kafya military, but then again she hadn’t been falling out of the sky in a madman’s rush to the surface.
It was an excitable, addictive feeling that made Rhidi feel as if she could do anything, take on any obstacle in her way, to hit the ground running and not stop until her tail started to shake. Not that her tail could shake much right now, resting inside the sleeve of her vacuum seal.
Rhidi felt… calm. Calm, cool, and cucumberish. This last jump was her final jump as a “trainee” in general. She was a soldier of the UAA Army, and now, after her feet touched the grass of Fryar Drop Zone this final time, she would be a fully certified Heavy Onslaught Infantry trooper.
Best yet, Rhidi had earned her place the entire way. No Human told her she couldn’t do anything, or said it wasn’t her place. In fact, Humans had done nothing but encourage her in one way or another, whether that was urging her to simply stand up, or just giving her a small kudos on a job well done.
Her Drill Sergeants had seen her through the entire way, breaking her apart and forging her into something… new.
Rhidi looked around to all the other Kafya around her; This last drop was to be the “all alien” drop, and the only Humans present were the crew onboard this training vessel. These “tugs” only had one design and function, and that was to ferry drop pods into space and then launch them. They didn’t have much, mostly a single vending machine and a small toilet, as much of the ship was taken up by the drop pods.
Rhidi caught the eye of Inthur, and despite her deep loathing of the blue Kafya, the two shared a nod. She then looked over to Anfilid and the brown Kafya smiled at Rhidi, bright and white with the giddy wagging of a bagged tail.
Rhidi chuckled to herself and lifted her helmet towards her mouth, blinking at the visor to get Anfilid’s helmet-code.
“Ready to be done and over with all this?” Rhidi asked her through the mic, watching Anfilid’s ears perk up as she raised her helmet up.
“Ready to have a drink after all this!” Anfilid chirped back, and she wiggled back and forth in her armor. “We won’t get much time after all this, since we’re getting plugged into a ship within a few weeks of our graduation!”
Rhidi blinked at Anfilid, then looked over at Alias. “Is that true?”
“Iz’ what true?” Alias asked, chewing through a cheek of pretzels.
“Anfilid says we won’t have much time after we graduate before we’re going on a ship.” Rhidi said, pointing to the brown Kafya.
Alias nodded. “Yep, we aren’t even getting barracks rooms, just staying at the training Company until our shuttle comes. The word that’s going around is that something came in through the outer arm and has been causing trouble on some no-name planets that aren’t a part of the IDC.”
“... And?” Rhidi asked, rather confused as to what that had to do with them or the UAA.
“And… the Humans don’t like it, I guess.” Alias said aloofly, he himself having no idea why the Humans would care. “They’re putting us up in a brand new heavy frigate from what I hear, going to be doing long range patrols in order to keep whatever is out there in check. I don’t really see us doing much.”
Not much time was left to discuss the idea as the amber lights of the drop area flicked on, and Rhidi perked up her ears.
“Last one to take down!” Rhidi called out, slipping on her helmet as Alias spat out the rest of his pretzels.
A Lilgaran female stood, rolling her shoulders with a sliding of armor plates. “When we land, we’ll all be certified!”
“Certified heavies!” A male Pwah bellowed, pulling on his own helmet.
“Hoi!” All of them called out, as the acronym for their unit was a common, favored expression for troopers of the same type. Other ground soldiers of the UAA instead favored ‘hooah!’, while the other infantry affiliated with the Void Navy preferred ‘oorah!’.
“Time to ride this bucket down and get this shit over with, and then it’s two weeks of leave!” Someone else shouted, and even Rhidi had to call out “Hoooi!” with everyone else as they all stood.
A Drop Instructor strolled out into the bay, beaming at them all in a bright smile through his half-helmet. “Alright my little aliens of scale and tail, it’s time for your final drop. Rack up!”
“Hoooi!” They all bellowed, and marched into their drop pods with thunderous, pounding feet.
Rhidi walked into place, easy footed as she turned her back to the g-rack. It hissed and shuddered towards her, the locking arms spinning into place on her armor with satisfying clicks and thuds.
Rhidi’s armored boots left the ground as the g-rack picked her up, and she rolled her head back and forth as she was locked into her landing position. Her helmet displayed “g-rack locked” in green on the upper left hand portion of her screen, while the other section still laid blank, and unused.
All sixteen g-racks in Rhidi’s pod locked back, suspending sixteen Heavy Onslaught Infantry for their final drop down to Earth.
“Doors up!” The Drop Instructor shouted, crossing his arms over his head. “Prepare for drop, and congratulations!”
Rhidi smiled to herself as her pulse quickened, the ramp-door hissing up from the deck and swinging closed. They hung there in the racks of their flanged mace of a drop pod as the launching shafts began to hiss and fill with air, readying to speed them down to the surface below.
Rhidi looked to her right, and knew it was Shasta due to how loud he yawned. She chuckled, slapping him on the arm with a clang of armor. “You ready Shasta?”
“Wake me up when we land.” Shasta said groggily, then hissed out a laugh. “Have you chosssen your after-drop meal yet?”
Rhidi grinned inside her helmet. “Oh yeah, I know exactly what I’m getting.”
“I believe the Humans call it ‘margs with the girls’ or something of the sort.” Alias said with his own short laugh. “Rhidi is linking up with the other Kafya of our unit and hitting a Mexican restaurant.”
Shasta hummed to himself, giving his string of soda can tabs a flick. “Tacosss do sound nice. Perhaps some of the Lilgara will join me there. Soundsss better than subway sandwiches.”
“You were going to get a sandwich?!” Alias barked out, flicking his helmet visor to Shasta. “We go through all this training, all this pain, and you were going to celebrate with a cold turkey club?!”
“I like clubs!” Shasta spat back through his microphone. “It’s a perfect combination of crunchy vegetablesss, meat, and condiments!”
The launch rails gave an audible hiss, and the lights turned red inside the pod.
“Arms up!” Rhidi shouted as she lifted her armored arms, then let out a gleeful, near Shorseyish, cackle as they were all launched back down to Earth.
—
Angel-1 came quickly, the metal drag chute buffeting the drop pod as it caught atmosphere and slowed them down. Angel-2 announced itself as the drop pod began to hum and buzz with the deployment of the fins, and Rhidi leaned back against her g-rack.
The sound of the blades starting to spin always got her going, the blood rushing through her veins buzzing with hot adrenaline that she had never known before. She still couldn’t explain it, but something about Human training, the danger of it… it awoke something inside of her, something old, yet familiar, like an old friend one may see after a long time away.
The blades slowly began to thud overhead, pushing against the dormant Ascender Engine, and gradually began to spin faster and faster. The thuds overhead began to speed into chops, the engine whining and humming to life as it was primed, all while the blades began to change their angle of attack to start auto-rotating.
Rhidi had never felt more ready for a “crash” landing.
She grinned to herself as the Ascender Engine turned from a whine into a shrieking keen, the internal components spinning to life in order to reduce their speed to a safe, ground quaking thud into the dirt. The flanges buzzed and trilled as they caught the air, keeping them stable. The arrestor fins thudded and thundered overhead, chopping the air and slowing them ever still. The Ascender Engine was primed, filling the entire pod with its whine.
The interior lights around Rhidi turned amber; One minute.
One minute before she walked out of this pod something else… something she wanted to be, not merely settling for what her own people offered out of annoyance.
The klaxon sirens barked out three times; The ground was right underneath them, a mere second away.
Rhidi’s g-rack shuddered as they all slammed into the ground, the g-racks hissing and dragging themselves down to the ground, reducing the recoil of the landing to only a few g’s.
The bell rang, the g-racks released Rhidi, and she nearly ran into the drop ramp doors in her eagerness to bathe in the sunlight as a fully certified drop trooper.
“Hoooi!” Rhidi screamed out, the call rebounding into her ears as everyone else called out their own, unique, battle cry.
As soon as they all ran to the collection point after going through their landing drills, Rhidi took off her helmet, shaking her hair free as she soaked in the light of the Sol sun.
It may have burned her and roasted her during training… but now it warmed her face, the wind rustled through her hair as she closed her eyes.
Cheers and calls from the other Kafya caused her to turn around, smiling and calling back out to them as they all crowded around each other. Armor and rifles clattered as they hugged and slapped each other's armor, but their celebration was cut short as the ever present voice of Drill Sergeant McPhiston cut through the air.
“Private Rhidi.”
Rhidi turned her head, along with the other brown, yellow, red, black, blue, and green Kafya that were currently around her.
“Drill Sergeant!” Rhidi called out, and they all came to parade rest.
Drill Sergeant McPhiston smiled at her, his brown campaign hat catching the sun like a sponge. “You’re not done yet. The rest of you continue on to the armory in the trucks, but you’re with me, Rhidi.”
Rhidi turned to look at the other Kafya, their faces as puzzled as hers, but Rhidi brought her rifle up into a casual carry posture and walked up towards Drill Sergeant McPhiston. “Yes, Drill Sergeant.”
“Let’s walk.” Drill Sergeant McPhiston said, then turned, taking off at an idle stroll down the road.
Rhidi, not sure what else to do, followed after him while bringing her helmet towards her face. She blinked down at her visor, the locking cuff of her tail bag clicking and slowly spinning, allowing her to pull the bag free of her tail and tuck it into a small pouch at her waist.
“While you may want to celebrate with your fellow Kafya and pin your drop badges onto your uniforms, we have something else in mind for you.” Drill Sergeant McPhiston said, and to Rhidi’s astonishment, the Human tucked a hand into his pocket while the other tucked a thin cigar past his lips. “Down at the main armory, that is.”
Rhidi wagged her tail twice, fascinated at seeing Drill Sergeant McPhiston being… bad. She got a hold of herself, stomping alongside the Human in her Skógarskera OBP armor. “Well, we planned on meeting up later to take a shuttle into town, Drill Sergeant.”
“To El Sabueso Salado?” Drill Sergeant McPhiston asked, sparking up his cigar with a deep draw from a thin wooden stem. “They have good chimi’s there, and they actually cook their pork properly.”
Rhidi nodded, and quietly wished she had brought her data-slate along so she could show him the review she saw. “Yeah, and something called ‘Pitcher Margs’.”
“Be careful with those, drink too many and you’re going to wake up shaved in a ditch somewhere.” Drill Sergeant McPhiston said with a grin, the stem clutched in his teeth as he puffed a cloud of smoke out his nose.
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Rhidi giggled. “Yes, Drill Sergeant.”
They continued walking down the road side by side, the trees rustling with the Autumn wind around them. The oak trees and pines swayed and sang in the wind, throwing down scattered needles here and there when it suited them. The cool Georgia wind coursed through Rhidi’s hair, rustling her ears and ruffling the fur of her tail.
She closed her eyes and breathed in deep; She had been here, in this state, on this planet, for what felt like years, toiling away to get to this moment. She had fallen from the vacuum of space and survived, earning her right to fall from drop pods into combat, earning her right to be within the UAA Army. To fight alongside these hairless Humans, to earn the honor of wearing their armor and wielding their weapons.
She had turned her back on her people in order to do it, but at this point, her people had never treated her the same way as the Humans. They asked only for her effort, for her drive, and demanded only that she strive to do her best. They did not keep her away for her fur color, they did not send her back to where she belonged for her place in the Languilada, and she was treated the same as anyone else who toiled alongside her.
A small part of her felt dread, embraced a small twinge of shame for turning as quickly as she did, but the old memories slowly came back to her; They had wanted her to be a pretty little nurse, in a pretty little uniform, in a clean little field hospital and look good for the recordings. They wanted her to just be quiet and have babies, to be a pretty little wall ornament along with all the other yellows.
It didn’t matter that she fought in what little combat she could, earning her qwilla that she bore on her lapels, she would always be a yellow going through “a rebellious phase”.
Here on Earth she was more. She was truly elite, a warrior, a person worthy of bearing the greatest armor devised by Human and Drafritti thus far.
They had walked almost four miles before Drill Sergeant McPhiston spoke again, having chuffed nearly half of his cigar.
“You’re going up on a Murphy Class assault corvette.” He began, spitting down onto the dirt road they were walking down and breathing in the loblolly pine scented air. “Brand new, top of the line and just finished up on the orbital dockyards.”
Rhidi perked up her ears, still holding her helmet under her arm. “Aren’t corvettes normally pretty small, Drill Sergeant?”
“Normally, yes, by definition.” Drill Sergeant McPhiston replied. “But these are different. We call it a corvette purely because they have no idea what to class it as. It lacks the raw fire power of a battleship, it’s faster than a destroyer, but has more armor than a frigate. If you ask me it should be more in line with a cruiser, but it does a job that no one else does.”
Rhidi looked up in thought, trying to imagine such a space faring creature. “What does it do then?”
“It acts as a mother ship for drop pod deployed troopers.” Drill Sergeant McPhiston said. “Crew of seven thousand, with an entire Company of Heavy Onslaught Infantry on board. The Murphy Class lives and breaths drop pods and is completely made around their deployment. They are upgrading all battle and capital ships to allow them to attach to them, acting as a parasite ship until they need to detach and respond to calls. It was deemed ‘easier’ than outfitting larger ships with pod bays. What this means overall is that a battleship or larger sized element will have two to three Murphy Class corvettes on them, which will detach and begin dropping pods while the regular joes get suited up and ready themselves to deploy in their drop ships. From orbit they can further assist with low-yield fire such as orbital barrage batteries. The cannons themselves aren’t worth dick at long range when it comes to ship-to-ship combat, but it allows the other naval vessels to deal with the enemy, and the corvettes deal with supporting ground forces.”
Rhidi nodded, her eyes wide and ears still perked as the armory building loomed ahead of them. Rhidi looked down the road, and didn’t even realize they had walked as far as they did.
“You’ll be attached to one vessel of war or another, big one, likely a Marauder Class battleship designed to fight other capital ships. You’ll like em, they’re basically a floating town that kills a bunch of shit.” Drill Sergeant McPhiston continued on, puffing on his slowly disappearing cigar. “You know, it’s funny, when you first got here you wouldn’t have been able to walk this far.”
Rhidi nodded, as they had walked all the way to the base proper and were coming up on the memorial grove. “I was caught off guard by how much Humans ran…”
Drill Sergeant McPhiston chuckled. “We do like our runnin’.”
Rhidi heard the flapping crack of a flag and looked around, spotting the UAA flag fluttering happily in the cool breeze, laying its shadow over thousands of graves that stood sentry on the green grass. Behind each gravestone was an oak tree, a witness to the grave site and what would eventually consume the grave itself.
Over time, the entire graveyard would be a massive forest, the trees standing guard over the bones of the Humans laying within their roots.
“I think they would have enjoyed this.” Drill Sergeant McPhiston said as he strode up beside Rhidi, taking another drag from his dwindling cigar. “A lot of those graves in there, they only saw evil aliens, y’know. Fought against them, killed them, hell, I would say half of those graves never even got to fight beside a Kafya, or Pwah.”
Rhidi looked down at her free hand, moving her armored fingers as the wind blew across the oak trees and rustled their leaves. The same wind brought the rich scent of the memorial grove to her nose, a smell of warm grass, incense, and a natural scent that she loved.
“Do you… do you think they would mind me wearing this, Drill Sergeant?” Rhidi asked, looking over at the Human as the wind dragged at the both of them.
Drill Sergeant McPhiston grinned. “Nah kid, they wouldn’t mind a bit. C’mon, armorers are waiting.”
“Armorers?” Rhidi asked, stepping off after Drill Sergeant McPhiston. “Why are we going to the armorers?”
“Because you’re making history, Private Rhidi.” Drill Sergeant McPhiston said airily, waving his smoking stub of a cigar through the air. “Come along now.”
—
Rhidi was alone in a room.
Drill Sergeant McPhiston had opened what looked like a simple side door, telling Rhidi to go inside, and then shut it behind her. It was so dark that she put her helmet back on, turning on the infrared laser to assist with the night vision setting. Both the door she came through, and the only door in front of her, had no handle, so she took her helmet back off and waited.
The minutes ticked by, one after the other, and her nose started to pick up the faint smell of that odd sandalwood and black powder incense the armorers used, the ones that smelled of fire and war. Kafya had pretty good noses after all, and scent can pass through even the smallest of cracks.
A light click emanated from the door, causing Rhidi’s ear to pick up instantly, and it let out a small creak as it came forward.
Rhidi took a few heavy steps towards it, quietly wondering if she should insert a live magazine into her rifle…
She thought better of it, and slowly pushed open the door.
The drone of voices throat singing hit her like a wave, the scent and drifting tendrils of incense crawling through the air like the trailings of ghosts. She was facing a long pathway leading in between racks upon racks of rifles, pistols, and machine guns, all of them glistening with gun oil that caught the dim glow of wall lights.
Rhidi recognized where she was; She had entered through the rear hallway of the armory building, about thirty feet from the main entrance, and was standing amongst hundreds of thousands of weapons. She looked to her left and right; There were racks upon racks of SR-113s, SR-CQBs, MG111s, M260s, M2s, grenade launchers, M9-9 pistols, M10-1 drop infantry side arms, the weapons continuing on and on all around her.
She slowly stepped forward, and between each rack of weapons was an armorer, their hoods over their faces and fists together at the knuckles, just below their ribcage. As Rhidi slowly stepped down the open lane, the mechanical armory arms slowly, pair by pair, put their clamps together as she passed, mimicking the armorers.
With each step, there was a rhythmic series of metallic rings as the claws came together. The incense smoke coursed along her fur, laying its scent upon her, curling through the unmoving air.
Rhidi nearly jumped in surprise when she turned her head and saw Drill Sergeant Prince standing just inside the glow of the light, her arms crossed and brown-round campaign hat hiding her eyes.
It did not, however, hide her smile.
Rhidi swallowed nervously and continued on.
On her left and right, Rhidi’s other Drill Sergeants slowly stepped out from the smoke-trailed gloom; Drill Sergeant Curahee and Mavericko smiled at her as well, both of them tilting their brims to her as she passed.
Rhidi’s ears flicked and twitched towards the sound of someone lighting an old fashioned match, and as she looked, she saw Drill Sergeant McPhiston alighting three long sticks of incense. The incense holders were sitting on a brand new plinth made of brass casings, and Drill Sergeant McPhiston stood to the side while slowly shaking the match. The coils of smoke melded into those of the incense, and he turned his head, smiling at Rhidi warmly.
There, on the plinth, was a single, spent, 8mm Spandau casing, its carbon streaked brass thrumming with the hot light of the burning incense around it.
“Rhidi.”
Rhidi snapped her head away from Drill Sergeant McPhiston to the main counter of the weapon armory. Behind the counter stood what appeared to be dozens of armorers, all of them standing with their woolen, olive drab hoods pulled far over their heads. They all wore their uniforms of olive drab green, their elbow length leather gloves inscribed with the stars and bars of the UAA flag.
Their pauldrons flickered in the dim light, the blocky outcrops of drop armor catching the incense swirls oddly as the smoke curling along the emblem of the firing pin, crossed behind the notched face of a rifle bolt.
“Private, Rhidi.”
Rhidi stood at attention, her armored boots coming together as Senior Drill Sergeant Fairymoss and Drill Sergeant Almoore stepped out from the dark. The voice came again, and this time she saw the man’s mouth moving just inside the shadow of his hood.
“Private, Namaria, E., Rhidi.”
“Private Rhidi, reporting.” Rhidi stammered out, as she was only halfway sure that was the right way to reply to such a summoning.
“You have come a long way.” The Human said, nodding to her with a tilt of his hooded head. “I dare say you stand before me as a whole new creature of the stars.”
Rhidi was not sure what to say, so she instead chose to stay at attention with her helmet under her left arm.
“You were the first Kafya to successfully manage the MG111 and stand in the formidable Skógarskera armor.” He continued on, looking at Rhidi thoughtfully. “All while under witness. You are the first, and hopefully not the last, as your dedication may drive others to mount such feats.”
He turned, grabbing a data-slate from the woman behind him, and held it out before him. “Private Rhidi, Namaria E. SOBP-19621983.”
The racks above Rhidi lurched into life, clicking and chattering above her as a weapon was drawn from one of the holding cells.
“Drill Sergeant Almoore.” The man said as the racks continued to roll and clatter above him. “Has Private Rhidi completed all of her warrior tasks, drills, and requirements?”
Drill Sergeant Almoore nodded with a tilt of her brown-round. “Her final drop was today, in which concluded all of her training, and she stands before us fully certified.”
“Senior Drill Sergeant Fairymoss.” He asked again, turning his hooded head to the far taller female Human. “Do you believe Private Rhidi is worthy of the task we are to set before her?”
To Rhidi’s quickly fluttering heart, Senior Drill Sergeant Fairymoss nodded with a smile. “I believe she will not waste this chance of being a proper warrior, knowing how her own kind treated her.”
They knew? Rhidi asked herself, her ears slowly perking in embarrassment as blood rushed into them. They knew about… what she went through? How?
“Then so it shall be.” The armorer intoned, and tapped at the data-slate.
The racks above them clattered to life once again, the mechanical arms reaching up and grabbing a single, pristine, factory-new MG111. Another pair of arms came down with the combat servo arm, each taking up one side of the counter.
“Due to your perseverance and dedication, we wish to offer you an alternative to the usual tattoo.” The armorer said as the mechanical arms locked into place with a loud, hissing ‘clatch!’. “You of course may take the usual tattoo which will be hidden under your fur, or, you may wear the serial number of your MG111 proudly with a freeze branding.”
Senior Drill Sergeant Fairymoss leaned down towards Rhidi, whispering into her ear. “It will make the fur turn and grow white, letting it stand out.”
“Oh!” Rhidi said, not turning her head towards Senior Drill Sergeant Fairymoss and keeping it straight as she was taught. “It destroys pigment-producing cells in the hair follicles.”
“Correct.” Senior Drill Sergeant Fairymoss replied, then bent back up.
Rhidi had to consider this for a moment; Her rifle tattoo was hidden under her fur, as it was with all the other Kafya, and that allowed her some semblance of privacy. However, if she did this, the numbers would stand out on her fur like a beacon, a string of white letters that could only be hidden by a sleeve.
At the same time, this felt like a test, and she knew there was a right answer. She hadn’t come this far to stumble at the finish line, so she nodded her head once at the armorer.
“I accept the freeze brand.” Rhidi said, and nearly the instant after she finished her words, multiple armory arms came down from the ceiling.
She held out her right arm for them, and they deftly broke apart her armor, leaving her bare from the elbow down. The arms even curled up her suit sleeve for her, something she had never seen them do.
“Approach the counter, Private Rhidi.” The armorer said as a new machine hummed to life beside him, glowing a dangerous, eerie white.
Rhidi walked forward in a measured, ceremonial time, then presented her right arm.
The armorer pressed a button on the glowing machine, and it opened up like a vent, protruding a cuffed arm that trailed the fog of cold air. The cuff clasped around her forearm as the arm took it, then she heard a light buzzing as a shaver turned on. She tilted her head down at the cuff as it shaved her arm, just below her rifle number, and then she felt a prickle of the coldest temperatures she had ever felt as the branding mechanism came down onto her shaved skin.
Rhidi hissed out to the brief, heartbeat long wave of pain, then exhaled as her arm just became very cold. The machine held onto her for nearly two minutes before it hummed again, the cuff clacking apart and pulling away back inside of its glowing case.
A subtle burning sensation was prickling at her skin, and she raised her arm up to her face so she could see what was there; In bright white letters, along with a small painkiller injection mark, was “MG111-C19421959”.
“Private Rhidi, you are to receive a new production MG111, serial number C19421959.” The first armorer intoned as the armory arms holding her servo whirred forward, clicking it into place within a socket of her armor. “Treat it well, and it shall fight for you until it burns to ash.”
The servo arm came alive as power surged into it, curling around her armor and resting near her firing arm.
Rhidi reached out as the armory arms did the same, offering her the massive machine gun that still shone with its factory lubrication. In her armored hands it felt light, and she socketed it into place on the arm. As the MG111 came online with a trilling hum of the small internal battery charging, her armor reacted visually to the weapon; Small platings depressed and opened up, revealing the locations in which she could place both fresh and spent barrels along the outer thigh armor, as well as a path to run the feed belt assembly. She heard another set of armory arms click her empty ammo pack into place on her armor, and oddly enough, felt one of the arms pat her on the shoulder.
Her helmet had new information as well, showing her the round count, heat, and status of both her MG111, its servo arm, and the still missing ammo pack:
- MG111: 0% heat
- MG111: 0/5000rnds
- Mount Arm: 100%
Rhidi’s armor was, finally, complete.
—
Rhidi, as the final part of her trial, had to walk back to her training Company. The walk was easy thanks to the servo arm moving in time with her body, and it felt odd walking the path alone.
She realized why she had to walk back alone when she turned the corner to the barracks and saw that every Drill Sergeant in their training Company had beat her back, and the entire Company was in the formation area.
They had been arranged in a lane to the Company armory, with the other Skógarskera troopers standing in a tighter lane, waiting for her to arrive so they could all put their MG111s into the armory together.
Rhidi’s face was burning with flushed embarrassment as she marched her way down the lane, everyone else besides her fellow heavy gunners in their garrison uniforms. Alias and Shasta both winked at Rhidi as she walked by, her fresh MG111 catching the glint of the sun and making Inthur squint as it got in her eye.
Rhidi walked up to her fellow Skógarskera bearing drop troopers, tilted her helmet in a respectful gesture, and they all walked into the armory.
Rhidi stepped into the white circle of her designated armory rack, and the apparatus went to work as soon as it read her armor signature and she held up her arms from her sides. It gracefully took away both her MG111 and her rifle, which stowed on the side of the ammo pack, lifted away said ammo pack along with her weapon support structure, and slowly released her from her armor, pulling it away in a wave of humming, mechanical limbs.
Lastly, two of the rack’s mechanical limbs came forward and lifted her helmet away gently, stowing it with the rest of her armor, and she was down to her inner suit in just a matter of seconds. She stood in the armory rack for a long moment, breathing in the smell of it all, then walked out of the rack.
Rhidi took slow, intentional steps as she mounted the stairs to the barracks, running her hands along the rails as her suit hugged her closely. She stepped up past the windows, her exposed fur bathing in the sun as she walked through it, and Rhidi smiled.
This is what it was all supposed to feel like, in the beginning. She had wanted to feel… strong, purposeful, above herself in duty. She felt her suit hug along her hips and pull at her fur as she moved, her new muscles making her feel like the predator she had always wanted to feel like, a warrior, a soldier.
When she got to her locker and opened it, she looked at herself in the small mirror and smiled again.
The Rhidi she had always wanted looked back at her, and she couldn’t help but let out a happy, indulgent laugh.