The Confederate Naval Forces Recruit School, also known simply as RS, is a highly specialized piece of real-estate. The school is built on and inside a modestly-sized asteroid in what was left of the Edgeworth-Sindha Belt, an asteroid belt in the New India system that had been extensively mined for minerals and ore. The New India system was a dense cluster of dozens of smallish planets around a very hot sun, giving most of the system a sub-tropical warmth all year around; the space was separated into ‘provinces’ that were named after provinces of the India that died with Earth. RS was in a part of the Belt that crossed through the small, outlying province of Sikkim. The Confederate Naval Forces had bought out a small planetoid in the Sikkim province, later named Kulkarni’s Purchase in honour of an Indian astrophysicist who discovered four arms of the Milky Way galaxy more than three hundred years ago. Kulkarni’s Purchase became a Major Fleet Base over time, but almost a third of the little planet was kept as lush rainforests and open grasslands for the training of students from the Recruit School.
Veraa folded the little brochure up again and tucked it back into her suitcase. There was a loud, metallic thump and the transport ship shuddered suddenly, making many drowsy heads snap up and look around. A Navy crewman strolled along the cargo hold, switching easily from floating in null-gravity to walking along the deck as gravity returned after a nine hour flight. “Don’t worry, we’re just docking with RS,” he called out.
Humans, Syrr’a, and even a few Gorgons fiddled with the gravity webs that now became slack around their chests and legs as they settled gently into their seats. Up and down the lines, they unbuckled and threw off the webs. There was a loud honk from a concealed siren, and the sailor made a ‘stand up’ gesture, beginning to shout like a cowpoke rounding up his herd.
“Okay, girls and boys, on your feet. Come on, let’s move, let’s move, get up and grab those bags. Two lines, facing that way, get ready to move.”
A door at the rear of the transport hissed open, and the sailor herded them out like nervous cattle. Veraa was near the middle of her line and couldn’t see the front, but as they were being steered briskly past corridors and hallways she assumed somebody was leading them. Finally, just as they were getting used to the light gravity—shuffling your feet is the only way to stop yourself from kicking off the floor and hitting the ceiling—they were taken into a large hall of some kind. Bags were left along one wall, and ninety new recruits were formed into six lines facing the back wall, where a lectern stood on a low dias. Several officers and senior enlisted from both Navy and the Marines climbed onto the dias and stood to attention. A tall, rangy Naval officer with a black beard and grey hair took his place at the lectern. Veraa had no idea what his rank was, but by the amount of gold trim on his blazer and the massive rack of medals on his chest she guessed he was someone very important. He removed his peaked cap and tucked it under his arm, then gave the recruits a pleasant smile and spoke with an Australian accent.
“Welcome to Recruit School. My name is Captain Edward Potter, your new Commanding Officer. Here on my left is my Executive Officer, Commander Mary Creswell.”
A small, intense officer gave a sharp nod of her head, but didn’t interrupt the CO.
Captain Potter looked to his right. “At the far end are Lieutenants Massey and Cole, and Marine Captain Hauser; they are your three platoon leaders. Closer to me here are Marine Sergeants Weaver, Loganathan and Porter; your platoon sergeants. They act as second-in-charge of your platoons. To my left, on the other side of the XO, are Marine Gunnery Sergeant Holmes and Chief Petty Officer Trujillo; they hold senior administrative roles, and are one of your main points of contact for any administrative matters. If you lose something, break something, or otherwise mess something up, you talk to the Gunny or the Chief. Now, these aren’t the only staff here, but they’re the ones you’ll deal with the most. There are dozens of officers and enlisted personnel on this little rock, and the quicker you can learn to recognise rank badges and address people properly, the sooner you’ll integrate into the populace here. The flow-on effect of this is that not only will your stay become a lot more tolerable, as you become used to military life, but you will find it much easier to transition into the fleet on graduation from RS. I’d now like to hand over to Commander Creswell to say a few words.”
Potter stepped away from the lectern, and his second-in-command took his place.
“Thank you, sir,” she said in a brisk, upper class New Britannia accent. “Welcome to RS, recruits. I have little to add to the Captain’s speech that won’t be covered in one of your many briefings over the next few days. However, I would like to mention a couple of extremely important things: firstly, no recruit is to enter or approach the loading bays, graving docks or shuttle terminals without the direct accompaniment of a member of regular base personnel. This is for your own safety, as the parts of our facility that deal with shipping are not enclosed like at a space port terminal; it’s very, very easy to walk right into the flightpath of a shuttle, or get in the way of a luggage cart and wind up as roadkill. We like to see ninety healthy recruits arrive and ninety leave in even better shape, with none of them in boxes. Secondly, Gunny Holmes wishes to remind you that you must turn in your mobile links and any other personal electronics you may have. They’ll be kept at the Q-store until graduation, and released to you during your programmed leave periods.”
Cmdr. Creswell allowed a moment for all of this to sink in, then gave a pleasant smile that made her crinkly, beetle-black eyes shine.
“Now that all of that’s out of the way, it’s time to stow your luggage in the dorms and get ready for dinner. Uniforms won’t be issued until tomorrow, but at all times you will need to wear the ID lanyard from the security pack you received at your recruiting office. We like to welcome our new recruits with an informal dinner in the students’ mess, before the programmed coursework begins. Platoon leaders, you may proceed.”
Life on the Fringes 