Formation: An Inheritance of the Fallen Novella

The transport’s hatch opened onto the ass end of the galaxy. Tophin was a distant planet, but Guzunov took remoteness to a whole new level. Kaia’d had to go to the Encyclopedia Galactica just to find it. Then it took another three days of searching to find a ship that would take her. But now she was finally here and a day before the deadline.

“Are you sure this is it?” Kaia looked over her shoulder at the Captain of the small freighter.

The gruff man walked down the ramp and stopped beside her. “Welcome to Red Hearth. You asked to come to Guzunov. Well, this is it, sweetheart.”

Kaia glared at him, tired of his condescending remarks. But the man just shouldered his small leather bag and strode off toward a metal shed that she guessed was the spaceport’s office. The spaceport itself was just a dusty field with half a dozen other small transports sitting where they landed. Low in the sky, the system’s dim red dwarf sun cast a deep crimson glow over the ships, as if flames licked their hulls. With a resigned shrug, Kaia set off after the Captain.

The office was as bare bones as the landing pads. A small desk on one side of the shed provided a workspace for the lone employee. The other side acted as a tourist display with age-stained informational posters about Red Hearth, the only settlement on the planet.

“Excuse me,” Kaia interrupted a conversation between the Captain and the spaceport employee. “How do I get to Fort Ridge?”

The employee, a young woman with green hair tied in a messy bun, looked over at Kaia. “Ridge is on the other side of town. Near the oasis ravine that crosses the salt flats.” Her accent clipped her words into a hard staccato.

“Is there a shuttle?” Kaia gestured towards the window, drawing attention to the town’s edge a kilometre away.

The young woman hesitated, playing with a lock of hair. “Umm… we used to have a crawler, but it broke. Bran hasn’t gotten around to fixing it yet.”

Figures, she thought, then said aloud, “Thanks.” She turned and left the shed. The hot winds were battering, forcing her to shield herself as the gusts picked up dirt from the dried ground and hurled it into her face. After half an hour, streaked with sweat, she finally arrived in town.

Prefabricated buildings lined the town’s only paved road. Behind them, the opulent residences made of the local white stone caught her eye, their elegance standing out against the stark backdrop. In order to offset the ever-present red hue of the sun, people had constructed towering glass barriers etched with intricate patterns that fragmented and transformed the light into a mesmerizing array of vibrant colours.

Kaia crossed town until she reached a fork in the road. Snaking off to the right sat the lift that led down to the ricken ore mine. Ricken was a critical element required to make slipstream nodes and fetched insane amounts on the open market. Kaia turned left and walked toward the large fenced-off compound. A sign beside the gate announced she had arrived at Fort Ridge. She approached the guardhouse at the gate and addressed the sergeant stationed inside.

“Lieutenant Marinoch. I’m to report to Commodore Leven.”

“Scan in please.” The bored guard gestured at the ring scanner without looking up from his personal handheld terminal.

Kaia complied and allowed the device to read the ID chip implanted in her wrist. A holo of her likeness, along with her name and serial number, appeared in front of the Sergeant. He considered something displayed on a terminal hidden from her view and then pressed a button that opened the gate.

“Have a good one,” the Sergeant said, nodding her through.

Kaia took a step towards the gate before turning back. “Any idea where I could find Commodore Leven?”

The Sergeant pointed toward a two-storey modular building. “That’s the admin building. Try there first.”

“Thanks.”

The base was small, consisted only of a few dozen buildings, most of which were standard-pattern modular structures that could be packable for quick shipment: the staples of the outer colonies. Only a handful of buildings made use of the white stone Kaia had seen in town. Sitting near the centre of the base was the lone multi-story structure, the administrative building. The distinct sound of gunfire filled the air, only to be briefly interrupted by a skiff as it came in over the horizon and landed on a secluded landing pad on the far side of the base.

Cool, climate-controlled air greeted Kaia as she entered the administration building, and Kaia sighed in relief. While necessary, borderline habitable worlds like Guzunov were the worst postings you could get. Her own pathetic career in the Navy had seen her sent from one crap planet to another as the Admiralty tried to force her out. Now it seemed that she was at another inferni-hole, but this time by choice. She let out a small laugh, uncertain of what she was doing here. The young corporal manning the reception desk gave her a quizzical look. Kaia just waved away his unspoken inquiry and instead asked for directions to the Commodore’s office. The Corporal sent her up a set of metal stairs and to a nondescript door next to a window that overlooked the parade square. She found the door half open and knocked on the frame.

“Lieutenant Marinoch, reporting as ordered.”

“You made it, good. Just in time, too.” Commodore Leven leaned back in his chair. A thin trail of smoke swirled up from the cigar in his hand and drifted out the open window behind him. “Welcome to Fort Ridge. Orientation for all candidates is tomorrow at 0800 local in the parade square. See the board in the barracks for your accommodations. Any questions?”

“Do we need to remain on base, Sir?”

Commodore Leven smirked. “Inferni no! Feel free to enjoy the town. Though I’d prefer you wait until after orientation.” Then he gave a brief salute, still holding the cigar. “Have a good one.”

Kaia saluted, taken aback by the Commodore’s casual approach. She was not used to a commanding officer speaking casually. Walking back down the hall, she couldn’t help but ponder the encounter. Maybe it was the remote nature of the base? With a shrug, she made her way back to the receptionist and got directions to the barracks, which ended up being a local construct that resembled a single-storey hostel. The doors opened into a small common area where a few candidates sat talking. Kaia nodded to the group before going to examine a map posted on the wall. She quickly found her name and set off down a long hallway. The faint smell of mildew wafted from the air vents, making her turn up her nose. The carpet had lost its colour near the centre, where decades of traffic wore down the brown fabric almost to the concrete floor.

She arrived at her room to find her three bunkmates sitting and chatting.

“You must be Marinoch; I’m Rilleta.” The woman sat on the bottom of a bunk bed, leaning back and almost disappearing in the shadows. “That’s Irvet and Giana.”

Kaia dropped her duffle on the last open bunk and looked around at their accommodations, noting the steel double bunks and thin mattresses. Nothing fancy, but she wouldn’t have expected anything else. She leaned against the small table in the room’s corner. “I figure you’ve already talked about it, but since I just got here, I figured I’d ask. Anyone know anything about this outfit or what we’re doing here?”

Irvet’s freckled face scrunched up. “Your guess is as good as ours. Some kind of new Special Forces unit, maybe.”

“We’re all navy,” Giana piped in, pulling the elastic out of her curly hair before replacing it. “Mostly XO’s on the verge of getting our own commands, it seems. Though there are a few, like Rilleta over here, who already made the Command List.”

That surprised Kaia. She looked over at Rilleta, who just shrugged in reply. Kaia would never have left a command to join this oddball initiative. She was only here because Morven promised her a shot at command and the freedom that went with it.

“Maybe they are putting together a deep reconnaissance squadron?” Rilleta guessed. “The Navy has been talking about putting those together for years now.”

The hypothesis was solid. Kaia had read those same white papers. They all claimed that the Navy lacked an independent deep strike capability that could outflank lines of battle. Moreover, it made sense to expect that the squadron would necessitate specialized training and skilled command officers. They would, after all, be operating beyond the instantaneous tunnel communication network and wouldn’t be able to ask for instructions. But if that’s what this was, why did it have to be way out here?

“Has anyone done a head count?” Kaia asked.

“One hundred and thirty-five,” Giana said.

“Well, I guess we hurry up and wait, at least until tomorrow,” Kaia said with a shrug.

They spent the rest of the day exploring the base and gossiping about their commanding officers, past and present. When lights out came, Kaia had been afraid that the perpetual sun would cause her problems, but the rooms had proper blackout shutters that plunged the room into darkness.

***

The rolling songs of the local birds woke Kaia earlier than she’d wanted. She tried to go back to sleep, but her mind locked onto the complex interplay of the birdsong and refused to relax. Giving up, she pushed herself out of bed and went for an early morning run, then grabbed a quick bite to eat before making her way to the parade ground. With just a minute to spare, she hopped onto the bleachers as a group of officers exited the administration building.

Once again, Kaia was struck by the casualness of it all. None of the officers adhered to Navy grooming standards. Some had long hair, while others kept beards that resembled bushes. On top of that, they were laughing and talking like friends out for the night. The Commodore was even wearing a Stetson!

The other candidates relaxed and a string of banter began. She watched them, uncertain. Had she left her ship for this bunch of yahoos? This wasn’t how officers in the Navy should behave. Kaia’s instructors had always taught her to maintain an aura of detached professionalism, especially when dealing with subordinates. This group seemed to be the antithesis of that code of conduct.

The group of friends masquerading as officers came to a halt in front of the bleachers. Commodore Leven cleared his throat and tipped his Stetson back. “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Qualification.” He spread his arms like a game show host presenting the grand prize. “Each of you is here because you show promise. Your records show you are exceptional soldiers. It’s my job to sort through the lot of you and decide which of you has what it takes to join the Division.”

Leven let his words sink in. The earlier optimism on the bleachers faded, and Kaia could see people straightening into a more military posture. Throughout her career, she had heard rumours of the Division, the Navy’s Covert Operations and Special Forces segment. Unlike the Legion’s well-known Special Forces arm, the Navy was more secretive about its covert branch.

“From this point forward, everything that you see, do, or hear is classified. What you are about to embark upon will be an individual effort. Offering or accepting assistance will disqualify you from the process and you will be returned to your old posting. Daily instructions will be available on the display outside the mess hall. Cadre members will oversee the trials and evaluate your performance. You will follow every one of their commands. The trial will only be over once they tell you to sit down for the day.”

A thread of worry stitched its way through Kaia’s earlier hesitation. How could she compete with someone like Rilleta, who already had command experience? How many others here were more experienced than her? Then there was the emphasis on the individual, an idea completely foreign to her. In the Navy, everyone on a ship-of-war was a part of a single organism—the team either worked together or died together. What kind of organization would go against that philosophy?

“The Division is not for everyone,” Leven continued, as if reading Kaia’s mind. “If you want to resign, tell any cadre member that you wish to voluntarily withdraw yourself from consideration. You will be immediately taken to out-processing, no questions asked. Good luck and have a good one.”

With that, Commodore Leven turned without saluting and strode towards the administrative building. The candidates around Kaia broke into eager chatter, each feeling the need to beat their chests and extol their greatest achievements.

Kaia glanced at Rilleta and asked, “Wanna go check out the display?”

“Sure.” Rilleta hopped off the bleachers.

They made their way to the mess hall, joined by Irvet and Giana, and found a gaggle had formed around the board. Kaia slid through the crowd and read the simple instructions:

Formation: 0930 vehicle pool

Gear: Shorts, t-shirt, standard boots

Additional Notes: None

“That’s it?” Giana asked.

“Seems so,” Kaia said, sharing Giana’s exasperation.

The orders were both cryptic and lacking. It reminded Kaia of the instructions that Gijnat’Hav had given her. Was that how this organization was run? Or only this Qualification?