Training Day (GALSAF)

*Complete silence. This is what echoed through the massive area. The man on stage showed no hestitation, and no remorse from each word he spoke. Something John could admire. He saw himself as a similar man to the one that spoke. He understood that all these men and women would be his brother in the midst of battle, and the fun times between each objective. Something his sworn brothers needed help with.*

*Rick was impressed by this execution he looked to his left to John with his jands clasped behind him as well as Thomas who stood at John's left. They were in civilian clothes, and he had struggled picking out a worthy outfit. They all decided to wear a different color tee and blue jeans and whatever footwear they wanted. Uniquely they picked out their armor stripe colors and Rick chuckled at this. The man upfront told them they would act as one. He knew they would have to bring him down in order tostraighten that in his mind.*

*To work as one unit. A mission could use one bullet or hundreds. You must know who fires what, when and where. A man skilled in the art of listening and simply executing would be able to determine everything and everyone. Thomas was already in tune with his squad. What is another couple thousand people who want to work for one ideal... one goal.*

*That was the only issue Max could see. You would never know the goal 'till you set foot in the field, 'till your boots hit the ground and you became a sacrifice for a larger cause. A cause, belief........ an ideal you swore to keep. Being a medic he knew he would be an asset. But the training, this is what you prepares you for the sacrifice.*

*Preparation for the sacrifice. There is no such thing. You only listen, everyone is equal, but intell is what is irreplaceable. This is what makes you go from sacrifice, to hero. A man who knew what to do, and when it had to be done. His squad had prepared to work like a tangeled chain. To never leave a brother behind. They never actually trained. They had only listened to the training the Kaminoans gave them and to work from that. But those who survived, adapted those orders to complete the mission and keep moving on. They all would suffer with pain. The only question is what a man can take until he trully can no longer fight. John put himself in the executed man's position and revelled in whay Ander had said of the wrong within your core. These people may ignore their beliefs, but just that. Because your true belief is never forgotten, but hidden from those who dare to step on it. John waited for anyone to speak up, and soon expected someone to do so*

Kel was near the back of the massed beings. In the minutes leading up to the speech he had been meandering around the floor of the hanger, striking up small talk here and there. Occasionally he ran into a language barrier, but most beings spoke basic or at least had some sort of translator unit. He'd found quite a few beings like himself, civilians recruited by either a desire for adventure or wanting to do some good in the galaxy. But more were professional soldiers, either mercenaries or regular military from various planets. Regardless of their background, none of them seemed to be here for money, understandably so since this wasn't the sort of job that paid all to well to Kels understanding. Eventually he spotted @kaytra, the woman who had recruited him to GALSAF. He started making his way towards her, but before he could get there the man at the far end of the room began to speak.

The way the man opened caught Kel off guard.He'd expected something a little more, well, grand. Some talk about the nobility of their cause or how brave they were for volunteering. He had definitely not expected to hear the man say they he would try to break them, that it would be his mission to break them. It was enough to make Kel reconsider his enlistment a little bit. Then they brought out the slaver, and though the man may have deserved what was meted out to him the execution only caused Kels doubt to deepen. It also made his stomach turn and his skin turn near transparent, seeing the mans blood suddenly spurt out from where his head was merely a moment before. A few beings in the front had to quickly move to avoid being covered in it, doing nothing to quell Kels queasiness. What the kriff was he doing here. Sure, he knew that he'd be killing people if he became a commando. But seeing it done, seeing a man unable to fight back, just, killed. Ended. It was different than what he had thought it would be. He'd imagined something almost glorious, not so grotesque.

What the kriff had he just walked into?

*His dreams were so close. He watched the man, who he suspected was their leader by the way he spoke, and stood there. He smiled as the man spoke with confidence and how he exoected everyone to fight for those who can't fight for themselves. This was something he wanted to do. He wanted to fight for those who couldn't defenx themselves. To protect the innocent and do battle with those of corruption and deceit. He watched the man execute the criminal and immidiately turned his head away from the scene. He wanted to be a hero... but what was the chance he would be a soldier for a larger cause? He didn't know. As he found the courage to look back he clenched his fists and nodded. If he had to train to be an elite soldier of a combined group to protect his home, he would train harder than any of them. He closed is eyes and imagined himself as a man, kicking the butts of murderers and theives on his homeplanet and chuckled. The teenager glared at the man who finished speaking, and rose his hands to his mouth to shout,*@

"When do we start?"

*There was no word given, not even a single footstep was heard as he felt the blade against his neck. He felt hopeless after this. To be bested by a man who seemed to be far more trained in combat than anyone here. This was to him, demoralizing. The man soon walked off chanting and admiring the boys eagerness. This 'boy' soon returned to his feet with a small pinch of hatred at this man who claimed to be their leader for this idea, this belief. He respected this man who took him down without a single act of hesitation. He would be a great man to look up to..... but an even better man to rise above and prove his worth to. The boy clenched his fists and fixed his white jacket and stared at the man.*

"I will best you... I swear this."
*He said this under his breath and expected only himself and their 'leader' to hear it. He wouldn't underestimate him ever again. And he would push himself to prove this.*

Ander bathed in the hysteria that had exploded around him, wild-eyed and full of mirth. The beings gathered all around him expressed myriad different thoughts and emotions in their expressions and movements. There was laughter, fear, hatred, determination, doubt, excitement, nobility, arrogance, humbleness. Ander relished every moment as he brought together 3,000 individuals under one common goal. As they continued chanting, Ander returned to the front of the formation, stepping up to the podium once more. He allowed the chanting to continue for several more moments before raising his hands and calling for silence. One by one, the recruits before him fell quiet, which took several more long minutes. As silence reigned supreme once more, Ander spoke, his words even in tone, but belying a hardened edge.

"Now your training begins. We will break you down and mold you into the Commandos this Galaxy deserves." Were the only words he spoke before looking over to the Mon Calamari at his side. "Now, I give you Admiral Jethroe Staton, veteran of the Clone Wars, the Galactic Civil War, and the Yuuzhan Vong invasion. He deserves both your attention and your respect." Ander stepped back and let Staton take his place at the podium. The aging Mon Calamari Admiral cleared his throat briefly before speaking to the mass of recruits before him. "Today we will begin organization. You will each be placed into the units you will serve within as Commandos. Fire teams, squads, platoons, companies, and battalions. Assignments have already been made, but adjustments will continue throughout your training. You will grow to accept every recruit as your comrade, your friend, your family. Here race, gender, and upbringing do not matter. All that matters is that your train as hard as you can, so you can become the tools this Galaxy needs to cut the various cancerous evils from its society."

As he finished speaking, Admiral Staton stepped away from the podium, turning control of the recruits back to Ander, Calo and Delmani. Together, with other established members of the organization, the three climbed down from the platform and began calling out names from a list on their datapads. Ander stepped to the center of the formation, his voice loud and clear.
"You will all be assigned quickly and orderly. Grab your things, if you have brought any with you, and make your way to one of the designated unit areas within this bay when you are called over to either myself, Leftenant Calo or Commander Altic. You will be assigned no commanders as of yet, officers will be selected from yourselves at some point during your training."
Ander let the words sink in for a moment and began reading from his own list of names.
"Ali Hadrix, Dominik Malsk, @kaytra, Kel Thelmat, Lilli Tarlan, Tanicus Perrilys, Consuella Isabel Monteiro, Camarann Rivers Baum, Harmony Vroxin, Volaris "Gunner" Gonar, Axton Nobulus, Halley Dulton, Tun Bilyers, Jaster Forlor, Vesper Bandak, Gac Turral, Theng Walf, Gal Junta, Ufi Karsmatok, Huff He'gai, Gaebryl Sheperd, Veng Go'sai, Brandle Dreemer, Wilhem Defay, Woody Fardak, Allin Bachson, Yuple Carrin, Rhett Locklear..." Ander's voice trailed off after a moment as he reached two recruits that had no surnames. "Sam, no surname, human male, white skin, shaved head. Danaewyn, no surname, human female, light brown skin, brown hair. Zimmy, no surname, male Firrerrean, pale gold skin, red and black hair." Ander waited a moment for the aforementioned individuals to make their way forward. "You lot will be part of Fourth Platoon, Fox Company, Second Battalion." Ander pointed off to the left, where an area of the hangar bay deck had been marked with a large yellow rectangle that denoted the different companies and platoons within 2nd Battalion. He turned back to the recruits as the group made for their designated unit area, glancing over at Calo and Delmani who were likewise collecting their own recruits. The process took the better part of the next two hours, but once every recruit had been assigned to a specific unit, they were able to leave the hangar and head to their assigned barracks rooms on board the Basterd's Hand. Each company of recruits was assigned a caretaker, a member of GALSAF personnel stationed on board the Star Destroyer that would serve as their keeper and guide during their time with the fleet. The barracks themselves were only one level up from the main hangar bay, and were located most closely to the bow hangar, where Commandos would need to deploy from at quick notice.
The recruits would spend the rest of the day would be spent organizing their barracks rooms, sorting out their personal items, and eating dinner in the vessel's primary mess hall. The next day would be spent taking their assigned gear and weapons for the training that was to begin the day after.

*Dominik sighed as Zimmy walked up to him and told him that he was too eager. He was here to train, not be told off how naive he was. He already knew he was eager, but it wasn't for this line of work, he was eager to grow stronger..... and only that. With that set in his mind he looked at Zimmy and took a deep breath.*

"Bravado is the only thing I have left other than my pride and the clothes on my back. Not everyone who reaches for the stars fall down."

*After saying this, he made his way to the front of the crowd, listening to the small speeches given. Once he heard his name, he made his way to the place the group he was mentioned with were told to go. He sighed as everything happened and everyone settled in to, well, everything. There were probably a lot of people like him; shy, unconfortable, full of energy and wanting to prove themselves, but unsure how. He just hoped his barracks wasn't with that other kid. Something was off about him.*

Ander had enjoyed a full night's sleep after the orientation he'd led the day before in the Hand's main hangar bay. After having organized the new recruits into their respective units, they'd been sent to drop off their personal belongings and make way to the mess hall for evening chow. He'd spent his time sitting amongst them, eating and talking, learning their names and their upbringing. Of course he hadn't had the chance to speak with each and every one of the 3,000 recruits that had occupied the mess hall that night, but he'd gotten a feel for a large chunk of them. Some had enlisted for the usual reasons, seeking adventure away from their homeworld for the first time. Others wanted to experience the thrill of combat and live the military life. More still, however, had enlisted for more in depth and personal reasons. Some had a family heritage of military service, others truly had a distaste for the state of the Galaxy. They were all good reasons, Ander told them, because at the end of the day, they were on their way to becoming GALSAF Commandos, and that's what mattered.

Now, he found himself sitting on a durasteel crate inside FOX Company's barracks section, with the company's 120 recruits arrayed before him. Some were sitting on their gear packs, others were on the floor, or leaning against bulkheads and bunks. The room was large, and colored slate grey. Filling it were bunks and refreshers, kitchen units and recreation rooms, all the comforts of home. Training was intended to be intense, but relaxation was intended to be just that…relaxing. Ander was garbed in only a tan flight suit and brown boots, his beskar'gam in a neat pile at his feet, though his sidearm, a Verpine shatterpistol, was holstered at his thigh. Sitting beside his armor was his rifle, a Verpine Assault Carbine, and the rest of his gear. Picking dust out of his nose while he waited for the room's occupants to quiet themselves, Ander looked about at the recruits, glad to see each and every one of them there. The recruits were all garbed in their basic body suits, the foundation of their armor systems, and dark brown combat boots. Black as night, these suits were well made and tailored for each recruit's physical dimensions. Alterations had been made to accommodate non-Humanoids as well, as few of them as their were. As the noise persisted, Ander clapped his hands together and called for quiet.
"Alright, cut the chatter, we've got osik¹ to learn." He reached down and picked up the rifle at his feet and held it aloft by the receiver. "This, is a Verpine Assault Carbine. The best of the best. Very accurate, very powerful, very quiet…and very, very expensive." Ander smirked at the dispersion of laughter that followed his comment. "It's a magazine fed, rail operated, assault rifle, redesigned by myself and Leftenant Calo from the Verpine Sniper Rifle, which I'm sure you've heard of."
Ander turned the weapon over and rested the buttstock against his thigh, the barrel angled up towards the ceiling. He pulled the charging handle back and locked it in place, then dropped the magazine and returned the feeder bolt to its forward position with a quiet click. Jumping to his feet, Ander held the rifle out for the recruits to see and spoke in a loud voice for all to hear. "Compact and greatly adaptable, the Verpine assault carbine is capable of the same long ranges as the sniper rifle variant, though at less weight. The weapon itself weighs only 2.5 kilos, and is capable of accurately hitting targets over 2.5 kilometers away, and is entirely silent in operation due to the magnetic rail-system it utilizes for the propulsion of projectiles."
Ander grinned and sat back down. "That's what the manual says, at least." He laughed, then pointed to the weapon's optical device. "Take a look at your optics, everyone." Ander instructed. "This scope is capable of detecting targets 5 kilometers away, and can be used as sonar, or Ultraviolet, radiation, broad-spectrum, and Infrared wavelengths. The data can be relayed to your buy'ce for maximum effectiveness of its capabilities." Ander reached down with one hand and picked up his own helmet, holding it out for Fox Company's recruits to see. "After your weapon, this piece of equipment will be the most important thing you own. More important than your mother, your father, your own hands or your own genitals. But we'll get to the helmet later." Again, sparse laughter, which Ander didn't mind. He set his helmet down and turned his rifle over again, pointing to a small optical device on the side. "This is a standard flat-screened red-dot optic for close-quarters reflexive fire. It will be installed on your dominant-eye side of the weapon, and while they're a bit old-fashioned, will allow you to draw quickly and fire accurately in close-quarters engagements."
Now, Ander pulled a cigarette from the breast pocket of his flight suit and held it between his lips before lighting it. Drawing deeply, he let the smoke drift out of his nostrils as he pointed to the grip of the rifle. "Selective fire. Automatic, burst, and single-fire modes. Burst fire shoots two rounds with each pull. Single and automatic fire should explain themselves." He looked around, ensuring each of the recruits were either paying attention to himself, or to their own weapons. He demonstrated the fire selector, then pointed to the buttstock of the rifle. "Adjustable-folding stock. It can fold to either side, or be adjusted in length for easy storage or close-quarters handling." Next he pointed to the grip just underneath the barrel of the rifle. "Bi-pod system. Folds into the fore-grip of the weapon," Ander demonstrated quickly, pulling the bi-pods out of their hiding place on either side of the weapon's grip. "Good for storage or if you're on the move. Doesn't get in the way." He pulled the bi-pods out again with a quick click. "It's got soft pads for hard terrain, like stone, duracrete, or packed dirt. The pads have metal tangs protruding for softer ground, like mud and sand, or for digging into ice."

Ander set the rifle aside for the moment, leaving it to rest on its bi-pods while he reached for his helmet. "Grab your buckets." Ander called, taking another drag of his cigarette and tapping the ash off into a small cup at his feet. He turned the helmet over in his hands, exposing the interior to the recruits. "Like I said before, this will be one of the most important pieces of equipment you ever own. It does everything from remote operation of explosives to communications with every level of GALSAF command. You can talk to your buddies, you can make calls home, you can order Corellian ale from Tatooine while you're on Coruscant."
Ander pointed inside the helmet, identifying its various pieces of hardware. "Mic, HUD screen, visor, and tongue controls. It seals to your body suit, and can supply you with a near exhaustible supply of breathable air." He looked around for the Company's non-oxygen breathers, and spoke to them directly. "For those who don't breathe oxygen, get used to wearing this thing all the time. Your helmets have been altered to support your species' various respiratory needs. That means oxygen scrubbers, for those who depend on CO2 or CO3. It also means they'll recirculate whatever gasses you need for respiration from an inhospitable atmosphere as long as those resources are present in the environment."
Ander held the helmet aloft, shaking it briefly for emphasis. "Never, I repeat, never lose this helmet. It is your key to locked doors, reconnecting with your fellow Commandos, and a million other things you wouldn't even think to think of. Now…put them on." Ander took a final drag of his cigarette while the recruits began to pull their helmets over their heads. Ander put out his tobacco inside the cup at his feet, watching wisps of drift upward in tendrils. That's the last cigarette I'll be enjoying for a while, he thought as he pulled his own helmet over his head and spoke to the recruits before him. His voice now came out through his helmet's vocoder, tinny and raspy. You will be wearing this helmet for the duration of your training. You won't take it off unless you need to, to clean it, clean yourself, or in case there's a problem with it. You sleep in it, train in it, go to the bathroom in it. And when you're eating, or showering, or whatever, it will be with you. As will your weapon. Ander's voice was dead serious, with not a hint of humor to be found. Any recruit who is found without this equipment on them will suffer a wrath that they've likely never seen before in their life. I swear it. You saw what happens to slavers. Think about what might happen to you.
Ander let the meaning of his words sink in for a moment before standing and reaching for the pieces of his armor. Now, he said, holding the chest and back plate up in the air, grasped in both hands. Take your chest and back plates, and attach them to your body suits like this. Ander demonstrated this by slinging the two plates over his head, leaving them to hang together as he clipped them into place on the body suit. Then he fastened the bottom parts of the plates together. He waited patiently for the recruits to follow his example, stepping forward to help a couple that couldn't quite figure it out as quickly.
Help each other out, they can be a bit of a pain at first, but we'll work on that. Ander said, seeing the relief that came in the eyes of those who were struggling.
Looking out across the room, Ander spotted four recruits that had already donned their torso plates and were working on the rest of the kit. He narrowed his eyes as he tried remembering who they were, and when his memory failed him, brought their helmet transponders up on his HUD. You four, there. Ander snapped. Max, Thomas, Rick and the other Thomas. Ander pushed his way gently through the other recruits, towards the back of the room where the four soldiers stood, all looking up at him. He checked over their equipment quickly, nodding his approval. There weren't a whole lot on you four in your records, but I figured out what I didn't already know. You're Clone War vets. Like Delmani. Ander's voice was at a mumble, not wanting to reveal anything to the rest of the Company that the four soldiers wouldn't want revealed themselves. Spread out and help the others, okay? Ander told them before returning to the front of the room and talking the Company over the rest of the armor.
This armor is designed to support you in almost any combat environment. It'll stop almost anything, the chest and back plates can even take light cannon rounds and still leave you walking. It's your skin, from this day out. Same as your helmet, you won't take it off unless you have to, or are told to. Ander watched the recruits finish applying their own armor pieces, until he saw that each and every one of them had done so. Pride welled inside him, but he squashed it down. Many of these recruits were experienced soldiers, law enforcements, or at least had backgrounds similar to such. But the rest were fresh from the proverbial womb, and would need time before they were ready to call themselves Commandos. But Ander knew that while many of them would drop out before the end, the soldiers he saw through this training would be the best the Galaxy had to offer. And that feeling of pride he let grow inside him.

1: "Shit." Swear word.