Chapter 416 (2/2)

Trust your warboi, but trust your instincts also.

The course you are about to enter is designed to cause your warboi to make the wrong suggestions or attempt to countermand your orders. It is as much a training exercise for him as it is for you.

MOUNT THE FRAME!

---Advanced Individual Training, Infantry, Warboi Familiarization, Day Twelve

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This is the pinnacle of modern infantry warfare. The M894 Powered Assault Armor. A man sized piece of equipment that will allow you to fight anywhere within this universe and most of the other known universes. It is, in effect, as self contained combat spaceship with modular systems, capable of allowing you to fight, without any support, for up to five years without needing resupply. With the onboard nano-forge even critical system replacement is possible.

The record for unsupported operation in power armor is twenty-three years, with a grand total of time in direct combat of nine years, three months, fourteen days, three hours, sixteen minutes, forty-two seconds.

That pilot survived.

That, gentlebeings, is not recommended.

--Advanced Individual Training, Infantry, Power Armor Familiarization, Day One

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The M9E7 Orbital Insertion Pod is used to insert Confederate Forces onto a hostile surface, often directly into battle, from far orbit. Capable of acting as an emergency life support pod, complete with manuevering thrusters, the M9 OIP carries a thirteen man infantry squad and all of their equipment from the troop ship or warship to the surface of the planet, asteroid, or Niven Ring. Capable of withstanding more than one orbital defense hit, the OIP is a safer environment for the infantry than the inside of those cobbled together rust buckets Space Force and the Navy wander around the universe in.

With a built in Class-V Nano-Force, the M9E7 OIP is returning to the previous Confederate Army doctrine of each squad is capable of operating from a fixed position with everything they need from the drop pod. Loaded with templates to create everything from rapid strike grav-lifters to standard side-arms, the Drop Pod is not only how you get to the ground, but how you hold it once you take it.

Unlike the Marine Corps pods, the M9E7 is designed to be disassembled and used as the core of a forward operating base that will enable you to withstand anything the enemy can throw at you, given enough time and mass.

This training unit will teach you how to use the OIP to the best effect to kill the enemy, break his possessions, and take his territory.

MOUNT THE FRAME!

--Advanced Individual Training, Infantry, Orbital Insertion Pod Familiarization, Day One

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Undrat sat on his bunk, the dataslate in his hand, going over the standard combat maneuvers for the umpteenth time. They were ingrained in his memory now, but he still felt the need to examine them again for anything he might have missed.

His people weren't the brightest out there, but they were persistent and enduring.

Once he had read it, he took the self-quiz, answering questions and moving the icons around to show his work. After that he went over proper radio procedures, despite the fact that he had been warning repeatedly that proper radio procedure often ended when the munitions were being expended or after a sufficiently long period of time in a combat zone.

A new section had been added while he was in training, and Undrat wanted to make sure he had it memorized by going over it again and again. The Terran Confederate Army had begun training its soldiers in radio wave frequency communications, based on bands most races had long abandoned.

Several times sidebars warned Undrat that the supposed un-jammable quantum and strange matter linkage communications had recently been completely jammed and rendered unusable by an enemy through unknown means in a combat theater.

The communications procedures book now contained how to even use flashing lights or waved cloth to signal others, as well as flares, smoke, and fire.

He was in his room, which he shared with three other soldiers as part of Second Platoon, Bravo Company, Ninth Battalion, Second Brigade, Fifth Regiment, Twenty-Third Infantry Division, XII Corps, 14th Army.

Undrat liked the long label. It let him know exactly who was in charge of him, which made him more comfortable. He could recite the names of every commander of each unit, as well as the Executive Officer and Master Enlisted and knew them by sight from their pictures. He had even listened to recordings of their speech over and over until he was confident he could remember them by their voice if he ever heard it.

It was good to remember things.

He sat in his adaptive camouflage uniform, the rank of Private Grade Two on his sleeves. He had been promoted once he had finished his training, arrived at his new unit, and passed the basic tests to ensure he had retained the knowledge outside of training.

Of course he had. Once he had learned it, he would not forget it.

When he heard it, he raised his head from his book, frowning.

YOU BELONG TO US

Sighing, he turned off the dataslate and got up, setting it on the desk. He grabbed his hat and headed for the door.

He doubted that the scream was friendly.

As he trudged toward the armory he heard it again.

YOU BELONG TO US

This time he heard the scream back from every Terran around him.

EAT A DICK!

Terrans were running by, heading toward the armory. Like Undrat's people, the Terrans had evolved as pursuit hunters, persistence hunters, on a high gravity world.

Undrat wasn't worried. He knew he would get to the armory in time to sign in and make formation.

He looked forward to protecting his former Overseer.

After all, the Overseer had protected Undrat and his people.

It was only fair.