Assumption of Command
The bravest are surely those who have the clearest vision of what is before them, glory and danger alike, and yet notwithstanding go out to meet it.
Thucydides
Illoia’s legs were still wobbling from the skating when her husband led her into a large, underground, room. “What is this?” she asked.
“Assumption of Command, Review, and initial instructions,” he said.
“I mean… what is this room?”
“Oh, this is our assembly room,” he said.
“How morbid,” she said, looking around. The ceiling feels like it’s closing in on me.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, waving over a ranker who was standing, watching them, one of the dozen or so men in the room before they got there. “Son, let’s do an open air scene for this, please.”
“Sir!” the lad said, saluting, and ran off to the wall, where he touched a comp and, suddenly, the walls and ceiling lit up with a view of what looked like the jungle above, in full sunlight.
“Send the OOB out to everyone’s comp, will you?” he asked. “So they will know where to put there things and where to stand.
It only took her a few seconds to figure out how to do that, as she had been sending things to ‘their’ recruits for a while, and this was only a slightly different list. She noticed the men standing around all glance suddenly at their comps and one of them, a Top Ranker, came up to Tom, saluting. “Sir?” he asked, “This OOB?”
“Yes?”
“Sir, a whole bunch of us came over yesterday and have already moved into the barracks. Most of them have left… didn’t know there would be so few of us joining.”
“Well?”
“Sir, we didn’t know this OOB and moved our things into different rooms.”
“Well, move them,” Tom said. “Our troops will take three shuttles, so you should have plenty of time. I will want everyone here, along with all of the families, in twenty minutes, at the latest.”
The Top Ranker looked as if he would object, but instead, with a glance at Tom’s chest, saluted and moved off. He met with the other men who, with a series of dirty looks, left the room. “Was he angry?”
“Undoubtedly. They all moved into the rooms that they thought were the best, and their families will be upset at having to move. If they were good troops I would have asked you to do what you could to keep them in place but, as they are, no doubt, the worst troops the other ld’s had to offer, I have no desire to be ‘helpful’.”
“Oh. But won’t they be mad at you?”
“Perhaps, but I’m going to keep them so exhausted it won’t matter.”
A few seconds later the first of their recruits, who had had their OOB and merely had to dump their packs in their new barracks, came back into the room, studying their comps and filling in their places. The Top Ranker they had brought with them, leaving his family standing in the back, came up and saluted.
“At ease, Top. I’ve met one of your counterparts, and we’re going to have our hands full.”
“Malingerer?” the Top Ranker guessed.
“I would guess. But we will survive. How are the quarters?”
“Hot, sweaty, cramped… just like usual.”
“Well, we won’t be spending much time in them.”
“Aye. That’s a strange training schedule you have for us, Sir.”
“I have my reasons.”
“I’m sure you do. He cocked his head, “Here’s the next shuttle.”
“Well, let’s get them lined up, then.”
The Top Ranker left, and started yelling. The men started to move to their positions in front of Tom: three top rankers, each with three top rankers in front of them: each Mid Ranker with a ‘squad’ in front of him. Ten men to each squad, ninety men in total. Lining either side of the hall were the families of the various married soldiers and, beside him, the ten men he had chosen as his personal staff. Or his wife had chosen. Including that ranker that was her personal aide, and a very, very busy lad.
The lead Top Ranker prowled about until everyone was in order and then shouted, ‘Atten… tion!!” and all the soldiers snapped straight, and first the Middy’s and then the Top Rankers pivoted to face him.
The room stood still and silent. The walls and ceiling still showed the jungle scene, but everyone was watching Tom where he stood at the front of the room.
“Soldiers and dependents, my name is ld Cladin Tomirosh,” he said. “Welcome to the fifth century of fourth batallion. Most of you know me, and have already started training under me. For those of you that don’t already know me, you will. Soon. Our training in this century might be a bit different then that some of you are used to. It will consist of three basic components, two of which will be done in unit. We will be practicing running and climbing in unit. This will include every soldier and dependent, regardless of job. We will be eating a lot of cold meals on the run, as our cooks will have no time to cook.
When back at base, which we will rarely be, I will expect to see everyone’s shooting scores improve in the simulator. I score a 98.3 on the range and if you can’t outshoot me I don’t expect you to ask for time off.
And by everyone, I mean everyone. Every dependent down to the nursing babe… the nursing babe on the back of his mother, obviously. If our barracks get attacked, don’t want anyone cowering in fear. And, obviously, we could get hit on the run.
My wife will be in charge of the OOB, all logistics issues, and all social issues. See my XO for everything else. If I want to see you, I will ask to see you.
Our Article 4 rules will be simple: Undersuit is Article 4 in quarters and on camp. Everywhere else I expect full uniform. I want every soldier and family to be packed and ready to bug out in five minutes. Inspections will reflect this.
Talutus IV is a small but important planet on the front. It consists, as I hope all of you know, of one continent and several dozen small and mostly unimportant islands. We are stationed in the northwest of that continent. Our troops hold the two mountain ranges on teh continent, which run along the west and north coasts. The entire interior of the continent is occupied by a ‘jungle’.
This jungle is different from any you’ve ever seen, though. The reason is the weather. We have four seasons here: Hot and wet, hot and dry, cold and wet, and colder and still wet. We get wet when the wind blows from the East, dry when, for a short time of year, it blows from the West. We get cold when the axial tilt tilts us away from the sun, hot for the rest of the year when it tilts us toward it. The summer is longer, and hotter, than the winter is cold.
This bizarre weather means that while we have huge rainforest trees, they are evergreens not your typical jungle trees. And the undergrowth is different too. But we’ll learn all of that on our runs. Our chaplain will now pray, and you will be dismissed to barracks in.
“I will see all non-coms back here in ten, and families should remain behind for an article II briefing.
The chaplain prayed, Illoia was happy to see it was a brief prayer, not one of her father’s chaplains long winded ones, and then most of the rankers and recruits left, leaving only those with wives. Most of the Middys and Top Rankers left too.
“I would like to introduce you all to my wife,” Tom said, when the group had come forward into a semi-circle. “I hope you other wives will introduce her around. She will be in charge of Article II and IV for this base, so come to her with any issues. As well she will be in charge of socializing. She is the daughter of the governor of Tarreno, so presumably she knows such things.
“If you will show my wife to her quarters,” he said, sounding almost nervous, “I will be having a staff meeting in five.”
Ill watched him walk off, followed by two of the Top Rankers and three Middy’s, the ones with wives. As soon as they gone the lasses, with their children in tow, all came up to Illoia. They were all ‘glad to meet her’, all very intimidated, and she soon had learned all their names, and the names of some of their offspring. She already knew the top rankers children.
“Come on, let’s let the lads have their talk,” the top rankers wife said, and pulled Ill off. “Lasses, where are her quarters?”
Her ‘quarters’ turned out to be not a very complex walk away. A coorridor, on the opposite side of the one they had come in, led off toward the ‘barraks’. These turned out to be three large rooms with bunks and secondary rooms, two fresher compartments, several sim compartements, one medical compartement, and then ‘her’ rooms.
“It probably doesn’t seem like much to you,” the top rankers wife said, “but it is a lot of room for a barracks wife.”
“I… four rooms?”
“Yes. This is your office…”
“But it is open to the common room!”
“Yes. Article IV. And Article II, really. Your ‘work’ is not supposed to be hidden from your husband. But there is a sound sheild, this button here. His office is the same.”
“Oh….”
“Living so tightly like this, Article’s II and IV can become problematic. The suits are helpful, too. Your door literally will not close if the wrong person is in here with you, or your husband.”
“Oh…” Ill had grown up with staff, female staff, always around, so she had never had to worry too much about Article II. And she was aware that her mother and older cousines were similarly situated, with female companions literally always in the room and preventing any perception of problems with Article II. But she had never known how the lower classes handled Articles II and IV.
“This is your bunk room,” another lass, a Mid Ranker’s wife, was saying, opening a hatch. “It is all one bunk, now, but when you have children, the logistics staff will add bunks, as necessary, above you.”
“Yes, yes, my husband warned me about this,” Ill said. “I hadn’t quite taken it in, though. It seems smaller in person.”
“So… introduce me to your children…”
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Von