Zero Drift - Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The first thing she did with her assignment was check whether Camden's was the same. It was not.

The second task was seeing where Sergeant Veraine's squad was berthed. Spinward, two spokes. All recruit training was on this rim, with each spoke delineating a training section. Two spokes was just about the worst position to move; too close to short-cut via the hub, too far to make it easy to move her gear.

She pulled her issued duffle out and began packing.

"Where are you off to, Nara?" Kincaid asked as he pulled out his own duffle.

"Two spokes spinward. Sergeant Veraine's squad."

"I heard she's tough."

Their limited interaction with regular squads made his assertion questionable. "Where?"

"On the range last week."

Nara filed that. Kincaid had socialized. She had stayed focused on the instructor.

They had spent a week at the range, in the section anti-spin from their own bay. It had been basic familiarization, not live firing or qualification. At this point in their training they were expected to be able to safely handle weapons.

"How do you fold everything so neatly?" Kincaid asked, looking over her shoulder at the precise placement of gear in Nara's duffle.

"Do it right or it won't all fit. Besides, if Veraine's is the hard-ass you say she is, I'll probably get a kit inspection as soon as I arrive."

It was prophetic.

"Recruit Tholren."

Nara stopped immediately and snapped to attention, her full kit-bag dropped next to her. The twelve members of Sergeant Veraine's squad, two full first teams each led by a monitor, were mustered in two rows, watching her arrive.

"Recruit Tholren, reporting as ordered, sergeant!"

"We'll see about that. Squad, rest." Her new sergeant marched to Nara, who kept her eyes forward. She knew the command to rest did not apply to her. She remained at attention.

"Is your kit ready for inspection?" The question was barked, not asked.

"Sergeant, yes sergeant." She wasn't going to fall into the trap of calling a sergeant, sir. Monitor Cutter had broken them all of that habit.

"Proceed."

Nara dropped to one knee, opened her kit bag and pulled out the first item. "Combat harness, tactical," she said, laying it neatly to one side. "Canteen, first-aid kit, combat compress and tourniquet." The process went on until the bag was empty. Sergeant Veraine stood over her, looking down. She was the same height as Nara, but loomed over her, occasionally stepping left or right looking at the items arrayed next to Nara.

"Anything else, recruit?"

It's a loaded question.

Nara ran through her inventory. Every item had been named and placed as the field manual dictated. Then she realized.

"Kit bag, Sergeant. Inventory complete."

She rose, resuming her stance at attention. Now Sergeant Veraine looked her over, starting at her head, meticulously cataloging her coverall, her utility belt, her boots, then slowly looking back up. Nara knew she was as rough as Kincaid had hinted by the time her blue eyes locked onto Nara's own gaze.

"Your haircut is substandard, recruit." It was loud enough for the squad to hear.

"Fireteam Able, let's show Recruit Tholren what a proper haircut looks like."

Duty caps came off nearly in unison. Nara saw them all smiling. The longest hair was less than two finger widths, with many of them shaved entirely.

"Monitor Kentaro, make certain Recruit Tholren meets our standards, then get her a berth. We are going down dirt-side at 0330, for range training. All members will be kitted at 0230 for inspection. Monitors, inspect kit bags by 2200. Fireteams will set watches with everyone up at 0200. Questions?"

She looked at Nara as she asked. Before she knew what was expected, her mouth opened. "No, sergeant!" Her voice matched the entire squad.

Sergeant Veraine pivoted precisely and marched toward her cabin off to the side of the training hall. As soon as her door closed, a Monitor approached. He had a hint of dark hair over his scalp, dark eyebrows, and deep brown eyes.

"Welcome to Sierra Squad, recruit. Let's get you a haircut."

"Paraded like an animal, now shorn like one as well, Nara."

Nara smiled as the clippers buzzed against her scalp. If the unit shaved their heads, she would join them.

The rest of the day was bunk assignment, meeting the rest of Fireteam Able. "Why Able instead of Alpha?" Nara asked Monitor Kentaro as she ran her hand over the soft prickles of her scalp.

"The Sergeant wants no confusion. Alpha is used for normal comms and things like grid coordinates and MEC standard commands. Able is distinct. Let's get introductions over. It's not uncommon across squads."

The fireteam gathered around. She did not react. The dark hair on the floor was less interesting than the team's expectation that she would.

"Jalen Rusk," a man almost as large as big-baby-face nodded. "He's our designated vanguard."

"Maybe I'll get that for real once we get operational," he added with a friendly grin. He smiled like a man who liked the sound of his own designation.

"Jaxen Rhyl, rifleman." Another man, slimmer than Jalen, but just as fit nodded.

"Sera Thayne, rifleman." Nara felt she was the one that read the manual, thoroughly. Her nod was precise, open to friendship but not offering first.

"Korin Vale, grenadier, for now." A smaller man, wiry. His eyes were hooded, cautious, judging.

"Lira Vesk, rifleman." The last woman was smaller than anyone else, but coiled tight, ready to spring any direction. She was like Camden, over-sampling, but not as intensely.

"If I'm a rifleman, why am I always on point, Monitor?" Her question was obviously rhetorical, delivered in a clipped, well-practiced tone.

"Zip it, Vesk, or I'll take you off-point on our next patrol."

The rest of the team grinned. It was an inside joke. Nara wasn't inside yet.

"Everyone get squared away. If you have questions on packing, check with Tholren here."

"Nara," she added quickly.

"Why her?" Vesk asked.

"I've worked with the Sergeant a long time. I've never seen her not find something in a kit inspection to criticize. Tholren knows how to pack."

"But can she do anything else yet?" Vale asked.

She'd find out soon enough.

---

She had practiced embarkation procedures for combat shuttle loads. She had not done it repeatedly with Sierra Squad. Every member was locked-in, stowing kit bags in the lockers above their seats, buckling in without being told where to go. Clipping their helmet comms into the cabin circuit.

Nara felt her way more than followed. The open seat was a hole in the pattern that she filled instinctively. The harness was not a problem. She missed the comm check until Kentaro walked past, inspecting each recruit. He clipped her helmet in, said nothing, and moved on.

"Sierra Squad, onboard and ready for drop," Sergeant Veraine said over the open circuit.

"Ready for drop. All hands brace."

A beat later, the shuttle launched, slamming them to the rear of the shuttle. Nara's shoulder ached at the force. Seats were aligned parallel to the fuselage, not in the rows optimized for acceleration. The force held steady as the shuttle engines fired and hurtled them toward the moon.

Breaking thrust pushed her the other direction, not as strongly. Vesk, seated across from her was grinning. Rhyl and Rusk, flanking Vesk, looked almost bored.

Vesk keyed the comm. "How many practice drops do you have, Nara?"

Thrust ceased, the falling sensation was surprising. Nara knew Vesk had timed her question intentionally. Perfect.

"First one. How many does the squad have?"

"This is seven. You're doing okay."

Not great, not perfect, but okay. It was enough for now.

Breaking thrust hit again, then the more steady pull as the shuttle descended through the atmosphere. One final hard break, then they were down. She knew the landing surface was rough, graded rock, not smooth concrete.

She moved automatically, unclipping comms, switching on the Fireteam frequency in her helmet with a tap on her wrist terminal. Harness off, she waited for the person next to her, Sera Thayne, to move. One-g, after nearly a month on the station, made her unsteady on her first step. She corrected. Her kit bag pulled her backward, but she adjusted and followed her fireteam out of the shuttle, ducking to ensure nothing caught the hatch.

"Move, move, move!" Sergeant Veraine commanded. Nara moved. Kentaro was at the lead as they jogged away from the shuttle, heading toward a small cluster of tents. Nara registered the tower beyond the tents, the rise off to the left. It would give a good vantage point of the shuttle field and the camp. The reflected light of the gas giant the moon circled was diffuse but consistent. She'd learn its shadow patterns.

"Fall in!"

Both fireteams formed two lines, two recruits and Kentaro in front, three recruits behind. The other fireteam formed up to Kentaro's left, a gap between the two groups. Nara stood alone, a single recruit in a third line, behind Vesk who was behind Kentaro.

"Sierra Squad, rest!"

This time, Nara did relax, keeping her position, but spreading her feet and flexing her knees. Rest was still in formation, but allowed to move so long as her right foot remained where it belonged.

"We will be on the range for the week. Our last visit was for a day. We're done with familiarization firing. This is qualification time. I expect everyone here to meet the standard. Monitors, assign bunks, then muster at the armory for weapons issue. Dismissed."

Fireteam Able followed Monitor Kentaro to the tents. "Rusk and Rhyl," Kentaro barked as they reached the first tent. It wasn't really a historical tent of fabric. The walls were fixed panels, standard sizes two meters by three, held on a frame to make a box with a slanted roof. Angled openings that did not fit the standard panel geometry were filled with translucent mesh allowing airflow.

"Thayne and Tholren," he commanded at the next tent.

Nara peeled off with Sera Thayne. She paused, letting Sera enter first. The doorway was a mesh opening with a magnetic seal. The floors were the same standard panels. Sera tossed her kit-bag on the left-hand bunk, so Nara tossed hers on the right.

"Boots off at the door," Sera said. Her tone was friendlier than the words suggested. "We'll get things squared away after weapons are issued. For now, we'll let things be."

Nara nodded. They caught up with Monitor Kentaro as he exited his own tent. The fireteam fell in and marched to the armory, closer to the tower Nara had seen. An older sergeant stood before the more permanent structure at the edge of the camp.

Nara had not been issued a live weapon on the station during training. The special assessment squad had gotten a feel for the standard over-under configuration rifle that was the weapon of choice in the MEC, but never fired one.

Everything was the same as the familiarization model and manual: over‑under frame, the top barrel a pulsed laser fed by a stock‑mounted high‑cap cell, the lower barrel still earning it the name rifle. Hexagonal caseless rounds, six‑millimeter darts pushing past a thousand meters per second, effective to a klick. The specs from the manual were one thing. The weight in her hands was another.

Nara took the issued rifle, checked it was not loaded, confirmed the laser safety was in the safe positions, and kept her finger away from the trigger and mode toggle. She had absorbed the importance of maintaining muzzle discipline. Only point at things you were willing to kill. It had been a sobering lesson.

The rifle felt different from the training models. The stock was heavier with a full battery pack installed. She knew it would gain weight once a full magazine was inserted. The center of balance shifted toward the stock as a result. The training rifles had been barrel heavy.

"Two hours," Kentaro barked. "Field strip your weapon, clean them and then we'll go zero them in. I expect to be ready to start qualifications before lunch. Move."

Everyone moved. At their tents, foot lockers became cleaning benches for them to work on. Nara mimicked Sera's movements until the other recruit stopped and looked up.

"You haven't done this before." It wasn't a question.

"No," Nara admitted. "Only general fam sessions on the station."

Her bunkmate sighed. "You've gotten the main breakdown right, just by following me. Pay attention."

Sera proceeded to name each step, perform the operation, then watch Nara follow her instruction. Together they worked through the rifle. Once it was reassembled, Sera showed her the remedial actions needed on the firing line and on patrol. Caseless ammo almost never misfired, but there was a procedure for that. Lasers required shot-discipline or the charge would deplete when you needed it most. As two hours ended, Nara knew she would be studying all night to get up to speed.

On the range, the first hour was reviewing all range and firearm safety. Sergeant Veraine informed them, with conviction, that Sierra Squad would not violate any of the safety protocols or range rules.

Nara believed her. The consequences would be dire.

"First evolution is zeroing weapons," Kentaro informed the fire team. Rusk, you're up first."

Rusk's body hid most of the adjustments he made, but she noted his prone firing position, his careful view down-range through the sighting reticule. He waited for the range safety officer, the same sergeant from the armory, to take the range hot. Kentaro stood behind him, to the left, looking through a mounted spotting scope.

The laser pulse left a flicker of ionized atmosphere when Rusk fired, but there was no sound from the shot. Nara knew the practice shots with the laser were at the lowest pulse-power setting. Energy would not affect the aim point.

"Low four, right two," Kentaro said flatly.

Rusk fired again. "Same. Correct your sight."

Sera leaned in. "At two hundred meters he'll dial his sight down two clicks and left one."

Nara nodded. She'd worked the math, but did not know how far a click on the sight would move the aim point.

"Laser zeroed," Kentaro said after the next shot. "Proceed with live ammo."

The crisp, fast-cracking sound of his first caseless round was sharper than Nara expected.

"High six, left four. You jerked. Again."

The next shot was better. Nara could see it above and to the left of the bullseye. She looked at her own sights. Two sets of dials were obvious. One for laser, one for rifle. From her familiarization session, she knew the red dot in the reticule was for the laser, the blue for the shot.

Another sharp crack. "High one, right one."

Rusk pulled out his utility knife, and flipped up the small adjusting wrench with its star-shaped head. He used it on his sight. The wrench was needed for half-clicks. Nara thought that was a design flaw.

"Zeroed. Fire Five."

Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.

Rusk's shoulders eased after the second shot. By the fifth, he was grinning into the optic.

The shots had been as fast as he could squeeze the trigger. The center of the target was shredded.

"Safe your weapon." Rusk did. "Recover." the big recruit popped up, rifle in hand, muzzle still pointed down-range. "Take your seat."

Rusk moved and Kentaro called on Rhyl. Sergeant Veraine walked down the firing line, pausing as Rhyl settled into his firing position, then she stood next to Kentaro to observe. The procedure repeated. Veraine returned to Fireteam Baker. Each member assumed their position, zeroed their weapon under Kentaro's coaching, fired off five rounds in rapid-fire, then recovered.

Nara was last.

"Tholren, you're up."

It was the same statement as for all the others, but it felt different. Nara stood, ignoring the eyes on her back and went to the firing line. A gust of wind moved a tuft of grass, or what passed for grass here, waving it to the right. It wouldn't matter for the laser, but might for the rifle shots. She knelt first, angled on the firing mat, then laid down. She knew the approved position, but it didn't feel right. She adjusted, more of an angle than others had used, and pulled the rifle into her shoulder.

Her elbow found a natural pocket through the mat and settled there. That arm supported the synthetic handguard. Stock pulled in, her cheek rested gently allowing her eye to look clearly through the reticule. Her breath settled, waiting.

"Range is clear. Range is hot. Fire when ready."

The white target with its black center circle and clean, radiating rings was in focus through her sight. She balanced the red dot on the center of the bullseye. Breathe in. Breathe out. Then in, hold, release half. She squeezed the trigger, careful to move only her finger.

She saw the burn mark. Dead center. No adjustment required.

"Fire again," Kentaro commanded.

She waited. The precise anticipation of the shot was something to control now. She settled. Another gust of wind did not matter, but was noted. The breeze was picking up. She breathed, then fired.

"Weapon Zeroed. Two shots. Proceed to rifle."

The murmur behind her was unexpected.

She heard boots behind her, passing from her right to her left, pausing directly behind her. Veraine, she knew. The sergeant moved to Kentaro as she had for others.

Nara ignored her. She flipped the mode selector to single-shot, slugs, then settled again. Her legs spread slightly, expanding the stability of her firing base. She flexed her fingers around the handguard. The sight picture stabilized, the blue-for-bullets reticule found the center of the target. The tuft of grass bent again, moving further this time. A moment later, the breeze could be felt on her face. She adjusted the twist of her body, shifting her aim point so the reticule was just to the left dead center. Then she waited.

"Fire when ready," Kentaro said. It didn't matter.

She waited. Finally, the tuft moved. Her breath came in, held, released. The breeze touched her nose.

Crack! The report was louder from her own weapon, but not a surprise. Her sight settled. Even before Kentaro spoke, she knew the results.

"Fire again."

She waited. Nothing she had done before gave her as much pleasure as waiting for the perfect time to squeeze her trigger. The geometry felt perfect. The variables were uncontrolled, but observed, noted. The moment felt perfect.

Crack!

Another bullseye.

"Zeroed. Fire Five."

This was rapid fire, different, but the same. She focused, settled, and squeezed. The sight picture jumped, but she felt the barrel settle back to online and squeezed again. And again.

When she finished, there was no sound behind her. No sound from Kentaro. Nothing from Veraine.

"Safe your weapon." She did.

"Recover." She pushed up and hopped to her feet. Carefully, she kept her rifle pointed down range.

"Present, arms!" Sergeant Veraine ordered.

She knew this drill. She executed the movement, less crisp than she preferred, but within tolerance. Sergeant Veraine slapped her hands against the weapon, taking it from Nara, holding it up to inspect the optics.

"Who set your sights, recruit?"

"I did, Sergeant."

"When? I observed. You made no adjustments. These sights are not at zero."

"Observations, Sergeant. I guessed with a plan to dial them in further if needed."

"A guess?"

"An educated one, sergeant."

Veraine slapped the rifle, spinning it back around so the barrel pointed to the sky and snapped it back into Nara's hands. "Return to your seat."

Nara did. Sera gave her a funny look while Veraine and Kentaro moved to talk with the range master.

"You've never fired before, really?"

Nara shook her head.

"Guns? Not for a young lady, Nara."

---

Veraine's first words of the morning were "Tholren, on me." It was Sierra Squad's fourth day on the range and Nara was the only recruit being addressed by name before formation.

She had shot Expert, the highest classification MEC employed, on the standard qualification rounds. Prone, sitting, and standing at 200, 400, and 800 meters. No one in Sierra Squad had performed better.

Veraine had a pack which was unusual. She didn't comment on Nara's web gear and two canteens, glanced at her rifle, carried at port arms, and checked her chinstrap on her helmet.

"Let's see how good you really are today, recruit." She led off at a brisk pace, broke into a jog at the camp perimeter and picked up the pace as the foliage thickened. The trail narrowed and Nara found her breath labored as she followed the older sergeant.

Nothing was said, but it was obvious where they were going. The trail climbed the ridge. When the trail ended, volcanic rock, regolith, was their path. She moved as quickly as possible over the sharp rocks. Veraine stopped just below the summit.

"Perform a tactical approach here, cross to just below the military crest and take up a firing position. You're assigned lane one, at the four-hundred meter target. When ready, observe. The target will rise on my command. Fire when you are ready."

Another Test. Everything is.

Nara bent low, then continued higher. The breeze she had become accustomed to was stronger here. The ridge sheltered the range. She glanced at the light of the planet, gauged the shadow. No real risk of being backlit, but she still crawled across the actual summit and descended far enough to not be silhouetted when she rose to a crouch. The range was laid out below her.

She scanned the terrain, familiar survey patterns reestablishing themselves, but with the military mindset added. The squad was in the stands, watching as a shooter was selected, moved to the range, and took up position. They were on the far side, on the Field Fire Range with its remote controlled targets. Lane one was empty.

She settled, opting for a seated firing position. Her positioning was non-standard, but felt right. She wiggled left and right before bringing her weapon up and examining her sight picture. Wind near the summit was more consistent, but only slight movement was noticeable at the range. She thumbed her laser to ranging mode. A gentle squeeze told her what she needed. 1,537 meters. It was just outside the rifle's maximum effective range, but given the lower air-pressure and slightly lower gravity, she thought it was doable. She flicked the mode back to single-shot slug and settled in to wait.

The comms line in her helmet clicked. "Tholren, enemy patrol inbound. Maintain concealment. Wait for your target. You are not cleared to engage patrol. Acknowledge."

This was new. Moving her hands to tap the transmit button on her wrist terminal would make her lose her sight picture on the area of the target. Speaking loud enough for the auto transmit to kick in might risk exposing her. She moved her fingers, inching them from her trigger guard to her wrist. A single tap. Another. Confirmation.

Her hands returned to firing position. She sensed someone approaching. The foliage shifted down-slope from her. A MEC standard helmet moved through the shoulder high shrubs that dotted the ridge. She checked her scope. Lane one was still clear.

Sierra Squad was in the Field Fire Range. She heard them firing, controlled bursts, long pauses as they moved through the course or rotated shooters. She waited. Another helmet below her. She checked her overlay. [Monitor Teralune] What was Arv doing here?

He was a monitor. Obviously his squad was the patrol she was tasked with avoiding.

Motion.

The target was up on lane one. She settled, breathed, felt her heartbeat. Breathed once more, exhaled. Squeezed the trigger.

The sharp crack of the round alerted the patrollers. They all stood, looking for her, but she was focused on the target. A second and a half later, she saw her shot fall.

Well outside the dark kill circle. It was barely on the target. A hit, in name only.

So disappointing, Nara. I told you what you need.

Even worlds away, her mother's acid tone filled her ear.

"Exercise complete." She heard in her helmet earpiece. "I'll record that as a miss, Tholren."

Only as she processed the words did Nara notice it was on the wide, area comms band. It was not a message just for her ears. Arv and his squad would have heard it as well.

In her overlay, the one person she knew and respected before joining stood looking at her.

---