Chapter 512 (2/2)
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The mess hall was busy, Telkan, Rigellians, Kobolds, Treana'ad, and Mantid troops all eating. One table was marked off. A Rigellian female, two kobolds, and a Telkan sat at the table, wearing AeRV eye-reticles and ear pieces. They were obviously talking to other people that weren't at the table and were also sitting next to them in mundane reality.
Vuxten was nodding as a Pubvian Captain was regaling everyone with the story of his first trip to Terra, when he'd attended the Captain's School the first time in MechaKrautland. He had been ordered to take the class in order to 'get current in his skillset' after 8,000 years of advancement.
The story mainly revolved around a Rigellian female who had used her reenlistment bonus to buy a Hamburger Kingdom 'muscle car' and how she'd drive it with the top down at speeds of nearly three miles a minute.
Vuxten was fascinated by the Pubvian. Three arms, three legs, short fur, wide eyes, and the ability to turn all the way around and look behind them at the neck instead of using his back like Vuxten had to.
Well, that and they'd been xenocided in the opening phases of the First Human-Mantid War.
All too soon lunch was over and the group filed back to the classroom. The current 'module' was called ”Problem Solving in a Garrison Environment” and Vuxten had found it to be one of the hardest.
He had no idea there was so many ways for enlistedbeings to get in trouble.
One of the cadets, a Kobold, had scoffed at the VR exercise where he had to make a decision on the proper punishment for a highly skilled and decorated combat veteran who had 'sexually assaulted a drink dispensing vending machine' and had then 'sexually assaulted a senior NCO's personal vehicle' before passing out face down in his own vomit in the laundry room. The Kobold had not believed that such a thing had ever happened or ever would happen.
The instructor had asked three times if the Kobold was sure of his statements.
The class had then read the after action report, the MP blotter, and the witness statements.
The Kobold had been right.
The trooper had sexually assaulted a snack vending machine.
The Kobold had been assigned to write a paper on 'hypersexual deviance due to complex post traumatic stress disorder and operator identification syndrome' which Vuxten had helped him on. When the Kobold had asked him why Vuxten was willing to help, Vuxten confided that he had a troop suffering from long term complex operator identification syndrome.
Even after the paper was written, the Kobold, who was a striker company officer, had helped Vuxten read about the proper treatment from a Company Commander's point of view.
One of the Treana'ad, a First Lieutenant Ikriktri, had stated that the Garrison Command modules were tougher than the Combat Command modules just due to the sheer insanity everyone seemed to get up to.
Vuxten told them over dinner how someone had stolen one of the new tanks, taken it for a joyride, and then abandoned it when it caught on fire in the middle of the road, but not before painting a huge eight foot long Terran male genitalia in the middle of the street with ”IT WAS LIKE THAT WHEN WE GOT HERE!” underneath it.
The weird part, which Vuxten saved for last.
It was one of the Atomic Hoove's main battle tanks.
That made everyone laugh. They would expect it out of anyone else, but the Lanaktallan?
After dinner was normally time off, but over half the class joined the three Rigellian females in the gym, talking with classmates who were only present in VR, as they worked on strength and endurance training under the watchful eyes of the Rigellian females.
Then it was a two hour of studying, falling face first into his bunk, then getting up for Physical Training and starting the day all over again.
Vuxten was actually surprised at how much he was enjoying it.
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”And just how did you lose three regiments of tanks by driving them into the river?” A'armo'o asked, putting his hands on his hips.
”The enemy deployed jammers, made our sensors report that it was tarmac ahead of us,” Third Most High Ne'enrmo'o said, shaking his head.
”Well, then we should be glad we are still in simulators,” A'armo'o said. He turned to the lone human. ”How did you determine how to spoof his tanks sensors?”
”Chaff and EM scatter until I saw which one the sensors penetrated and that he could see through. From there, it was trivial to backscatter heat over tarmac over the water reflections,” Trucker said. He spit into the bottle. ”Item number eight hundred and seventy two: Sensors do not run a spectrum algorithm and stick to a single frequency.”
”...single frequency,” Tenth Most High of Maintenance said.
A'armo'o turned to the Telkan striker pilots. ”And how did you lose an entire Wing?”
”Ran face first into MANPADS,” the Telkan admitted. ”They suckered us. Three standard anti-armor rockets deadfired with a SAM mixed in. Our chaff and flares didn't affect the LAW systems. Overwhelmed our battlescreens using rockets normally used against Pacific Rim Class Jaegers.”
”We'll get together after this, see if we can figure something out,” A'armo'o said. He turned to another Lanaktallan. ”What happened to the food?”
”Refugees overran the supply point. They were desperate, starving. We loaded the nutriforges but abandoned the already fabbed up food, which forced Ninth Regiment to have to go to personal foodforge,” the officer said.
A'armo'o nodded. ”Not firing on the crowd and distracting them with the food until you could get security was a hard decision, but the right one.”
He reached out and touched the table. ”All right. Tomorrow, let's have the men run another simulation, see if we can poke any more holes in the new software.”
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Ge'ermo'o watched as General NoDra'ak prepared the next day's lesson, helping the big Treana'ad, who was still recovering from his injuries.
The Lanaktallan had to admit, he had learned many things acting as Most High A'armo'o's liaison between the Atomic Hooves and the Confederate Military.
He was a most observant and attentive commander.
It was why his men loved him.