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from it. 

During the first week of Phase 1, each recruit had been required to get his bones on within 30 seconds.  Ryck’s first attempt was over one-and-a-half minutes, and he thought 30 seconds was impossible.  It really hadn’t taken too many more attempts, though, to reach the required speed.  By now, it had already become second nature.

Harris was shouting at them to get in the bleachers, so Ryck and the other three trooped over and filed in to take their seats.  One good thing about Lympstone was that they basically took their “squadbay” with them.  Their bivvies were lined up 20 meters behind the bleachers for Range 109, the Combined Firing Range.  Their one hot would be packed out to them, so they had no nice galley at which to sit, but they were not humping back and forth each day while at the range.

Captain Jericho welcomed them to the range and the day’s evolution.  At Charles, the officers did formal inspections and handled interviews for drops or anything else that came up, and they sometimes observed training, but at Lympstone, they were more involved.  Each and every safety brief was conducted by an officer.  Captain Jericho had done many of their briefs, so he was a familiar face.  He had the frame prosthetic that hid his regen for both legs.  Rumor had it that this was his fourth regen:  two as an enlisted Marine, two as an officer.  Regens were rejected after too many attempts, and Ryck didn’t know just how many times that was.  If Captain Jericho deployed again and lost another arm or leg, could his body handle one more regen?  Would he actually go through life with a prosthetic?  That was a sobering thought.

The safety speech was pretty much the same as for every other training evolution:  listen to the TDIs, pay attention to everything, keep the weapon on safe until ready to fire, make sure to identify a target before firing, and so on.  The platoon had been doing pretty well in this area, at least.  Ben-ben had been their only casualty, and he would be back in a follow-on training company.  Platoon 1042 had two recruits seriously hurt, and one of them wasn’t likely to ever fully recover.  The worst case was in 1043, though.  A recruit had suddenly dropped dead during a simple training run back on T4.  They’d only gone a klick or so when bam, he was gone.  He was rushed to sickbay within minutes, but the docs couldn’t bring him back. 

Captain Jericho finally finished, and Gunny de Gruit took over.  The gunny was the TDI in charge of combined arms training, and he went over the first evolution for the umpteenth time. 

We know, we know, Ryck thought, careful to keep an expression of rapt attention on his face, though.  Let’s get this thing going!

It really was a simple evolution.  Each squad would move on line up the range, firing at targets as they popped up.  Supporting fires would precede them, walking them up to the objective, which was a trenchline about a klick away.  Once they reached the trenchline, the exercise would cease, and they would march back in a column to the starting line.

There were two platoons doing the exercise, and 1044 would go second, so Ryck settled in for a long wait for his squad’s turn.  The first squad to go was lined up, their armor shifting to the red of live-fire training.  For this evolution, the recruit squad leader didn’t give any orders.  A TDI took over that, standing in the center of the squad line, and two other TDIs followed on either flank.  Their skins and bones were adjusted to the bright green of their usual identifying colors, making them stand out against the recruits.

Training Drill Instructor de Gruit gave the OK, and the squad hesitantly stepped off.  Within moments, the impacts of the 60mm mortars were visible, 100 meters downrange.  The mortars’ ECR[16] could be adjusted from 10-60 meters.  When the recruits had been introduced to the rounds, boxes had been set up on the range, and a TDI casually sauntered to within about 15 meters from the closest of the boxes.  He turned to look back at the expectant recruits as the mortars were fired.  Three rounds landed spot-on in the middle of the assembled boxes, and they were totally destroyed.  The TDI was untouched, and he just as casually sauntered back to the bleachers.  The recruits were taught that the mortars sent out a blanket of poly-matrix darts with the darts disintegrating to dust at a set range, but it was a relief to see this actually work in a real-life demonstration. 

Despite knowing this, several of the recruits in 1045’s First Squad faltered as the mortars landed.  Ryck could sympathize with them—he’d even flinched sitting in the stands another 50 meters back, but he knew they deserved the hell the TDIs dropped on them.  One lesson drilled into them over and over was that with combined arms, it was vital to keep in formation.  Even when individual infantry positions could be monitored by the arty or mortar sections, a mortar round took some time to impact, and moving out of an expected formation could be dangerous.

In combat, things tended to be more fluid, but in training, it was safety, safety, safety.  The envelope would be pushed, especially in Phase 5, so the staff worked to minimize casualties in the earlier phases.  Too many dead recruits wouldn’t make the bigwigs back in the Federation Council happy.

To the side of the range, a big M1 Davis had been sitting idle.  It was in defilade, so the recruits could not really see much of the tank, but when it opened up with its 75 mm hypervelocity rail gun, the excitement level perceptibly rose in the bleachers.  The firing report was rather subdued, more of a crack as the round exceeded Mach 5, but the explosion as the round impacted on a truck hulk was awe-inspiring.  This was the first time any of the recruits had actually witness a tank firing.

“That’s what I want to do,” Wagons whispered beside him.  “Armor is where it’s at.”

Quite a few of the recruits wanted to go armor, but they would have to prove themselves as infantry first.  Those with the aptitude would be siphoned off, just as with other branches.  With armor, though, there were size limitations.  Larger Marines just need not apply.

The Davis fired only once, then the 81 and 120mm mortars and the 105 and 155 howitzers opened up while Marine air came streaking in, all while the squad moved forward.  Several times, targets popped up, and the recruits opened fire.  Their reports sounded like little pop guns in the midst of all the bigger explosions.

Finally, the recruits reached their objective.  Flashing range lights indicated a cold range, and the squad was marched back.  The recruits took their positions in the stands.  Ryck could see they were pretty amped, but he couldn’t just wander over to them and ask them how it had been.

The range staff and TDIs were going over the monitors, and it took them a good five minutes before the next squad was given the order to get in position.  When the squad started moving, it was pretty much a repeat.  They got on line, there were lots of explosions, and they reached the objective.

When the third squad made their run, the Davis’ impact had faded.  It had only been assigned one target, an old truck of some sort, and after hitting it twice, it was pretty much scrap.  The hypervelocity round didn’t have much to hit, and impacting on the ground was not half as spectacular as when the round hit a vehicle.

Fourth platoon’s last squad offered something different in the routine, though, and not in a good way.  They were about 500 meters downrange when the range lights flashed, sending the range cold.  Ryck couldn’t see what had happened.  He was too far away for a direct view, and he was not in position to see the monitors, but one of the greenshirts came back escorting a recruit.  They reached the stands, and one of Fourth Platoon’s DIs, not the Lympstone TDIs, took over, leading the ashen-faced recruit off the range and back to the bivvie.  Ryck didn’t really know the recruit, but he knew he wouldn’t want to be in his shoes, whatever he had done. 

The TDI marched back out to the where the squad was still in a line.  The whirling red lights changed to a steady green, and the loudspeakers announced a hot range.

Finally, it was 1044’s turn.  First Squad was ready, with Second on deck.  When First stepped off, Third Squad left the bleachers to get its check.  Ryck felt the excitement building as the TDI inspected each Marine, even tugging on every piece of bone.  They were pretty foolproof, as far as Ryck could see, and he thought the degree of inspection was overkill.  But it impressed upon him the fact that this really was a dangerous situation.  If the TDIs were that cautious, maybe he should be, too.

Ryck was ready to go, but there was still quite a bit of standing around and waiting.  First had to finish, which it eventually did, and Second had to take off.  Third Squad moved into position, and they could finally see downrange again.  They watched Second maneuver down the range, eventually reaching the objective before coming back.  It had been a long day, but it was finally Third Squad’s turn in the breach.

The TDIs accompanying the recruit squads had been alternating between two teams.  Third Squad had Training Drill Instructor Hyunh as the squad leader and TDIs Papagana and Rose to assist him.

“Pay attention to me at all times,” Hyunh told them once more.  “You’ve seen everyone else go through.  Now it’s your turn, so let’s get it done.”

The lights turned to green, and Hyunh gave the “Move out” order.

With one step, Ryck was over the white line that was the boundary for the range.  It was only half a meter, but it was a different world.  One step back, and he was simply at Lympstone.  One step forward, and he was in a live impact area, one in which death was falling from the sky.

“Keep it even,” Hyunh intoned over the comms.  “First Team, you’re lagging.”

Ryck was aware of Training Drill Instructor Papagana moving First Team forward, but he was concentrating on his own movement.  He focused on keeping his position, but still looking forward, expecting the

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