A TALE OF BROTHERS

— by Jeff Karamales

Chapter 2
 

Alistair Gordon wasn’t sure what he expected as he stepped off the tram that brought him and others from the docking bay to the Grand Chamber. Joplin hadn’t looked like much as the transport he’d arrived on dropped to the surface of the desolate looking planetoid, and so far the corridors, chambers and interior spaces had been just as sparse and colorless as the outside. Maybe volunteering for the Spatial Police Force hadn’t been the wisest decision, but the only other option of learning to take over his family’s holdings back in Scotland were even less appealing when what he really wanted was to do something with his life that had meaning and value.

  Granted, the video he’d seen had made the SPF rather attractive, and the thought of traveling the different worlds of the Planetary Alignment, fighting off pirates, exotic ports on far flung worlds and ladies of every possible description had made life in the interstellar law enforcement group look most attractive. He adjusted the strap of his carry bag and looked at the other individuals that had ridden the tram over, the closest being a white furred fox that kept his eyes forward and his muzzle shut as he stood at rigid attention.

  “This ain’ like the vids at all,” Alistair moaned. “This place is righ’ nary a bloody jail! Wha’ d’ye think we do next?” he asked the fox.

  “Shut your mouth before you get us in trouble,” the fox replied in a harsh whisper then swore as a senior sergeant pushed other recruits out of the way to get to the human and fur. “Thanks, jerk.”

  “You two think you’re special or something?” the raccoon that had six stripes on her shoulders beneath the SPF Sword, Star and Shield patch yelled as she looked up at the two recruits. “Are we interrupting social time? Maybe keeping you from something more important?”

  “Jus’ wonderin’ what all this is ‘bout, lass,” Alistair replied cheekily with a wink. Grinning he turned to look at the fox, wondering why the fellow’s ears were suddenly plastered to his head while his tail pressed into the backs of his legs.

  Before Alistair knew what was going on, the raccoon had him face down on the hard, rock flooring of the chamber, his arm pulled back and up with her booted foot planted squarely in the middle of his back. “The first and last words out of your filthy muzzles, mouths and face-holes will be ‘SIR’! Do you understand me?”

  Alistair struggled not to cry out in pain as his arm was twisted when the noncommissioned officer added a little more pressure, obviously displeased by his failure to answer quickly enough. “Sir!Yes, Sir!”

“On your feet!”

  The raccoon waited to see if the human would retaliate, more than happy to turn a possible incident into a block of instruction. “Talk again without permission and you’ll seriously regret it!” The sergeant stepped back out to the front of the group of new meat and with the help of other training NCOs got the rabble into something resembling a proper formation after half an hour of conflicting orders that had most of the recruits mentally off balance. “So, you all want to be heroes, huh? Saw a vid, read an article and think you got the brass to be an SPF officer? Think a uniform will get you a date? Think some cute bit of fluff will be happy to lift her tail for you, or some muscle-head will pamper you while you soak up sun and fun on Sillon or Pomen?

  “You are nothing but meat! Dead meat at that if you don’t listen and learn! Space is a cold hearted, vindictive witch, and she’s got more ways to kill you than your tiny, hormone sotted, malformed brains can imagine! When nature isn’t trying to thin your respective gene pools, there are pirates, brigands and criminals that will gladly assist in your demise for no other reason than the uniform you all think you want to put on so badly makes you a target!

  “Look at the wall behind me! LOOK AT IT! Those are the heroes! Those are the ones that saw what we’re trying to do here, what we do out there as something greater than themselves and put their lives on the line for a goal, something worthy! Death and danger lurks in the dark, and it is SPF that stands vigil, shines as a light to guide and protects every single member of the PA regardless of species, religion, gender, culture, status or world of birth!

  “Stop looking at that wall! You aren’t worthy! Not yet!” The sergeant then regarded each and every individual with an almost malicious, malignant light sparkling in her dark eyes. “You have three options as of this moment. One, you can resign, right here, right now, and go back to your soft civilian life and know that you didn’t have what it takes to wear the grey and crimson. Two, you can try to skate on, being an individual and wind up killing yourself in some brilliantly stupid manner. Or three, you can listen, become part of a team where you know that every other person…fur, human or otherwise…that wears the same uniform will put themselves on the sharp end for you because they know you’ll do the same for them. Take the third and you can be assured of a term of service that is dirty, foul, vile with moments of extreme tedium interspersed with moments of sheer terror. The thing is, you’ll be making a difference, and that’s what really matters. What’s it going to be?”

  The raccoon looked at all of the new recruits, smiling viciously, though there was something about her demeanor that changed slightly when no one moved.

“Fine. We’ll see if you’ve got it in you to stay.” As the sergeant crossed her arms, the smile faded. “Now to be completely honest with you,” the raccoon yelled a little more softly as she started to move among the recruits. “My name is Instructor Halley. You will learn to hate me in the coming months. You will hate the other instructors. Our job is to push you, to scare you, to tear you down and rebuild you into someone…something that we can count on. And in the end you will either succeed, or you will die. This is for real, children. It’s not a game, movie or vid. It’s not a space opera. It’s real. Bloody, violently, gut wrenchingly real. And the other Instructors and myself are very good at our jobs.

“Now then! Let’s work on our first heart attacks, shall we?” 

*** 

“Och! I think I’m dead!” Alistair complained tiredly as he stepped under the hot blast of the shower in the open bay with the other male recruits. “I don’ think Senior Instructor Halley likes me all tha’ much!”

  “Maybe if you’d shut your mouth and just did what you were told she’d let up,” the white fox that had seemed completely nonplussed at the yelling and physical conditioning the others were struggling with said.

  “I think yer right,” Alistair said as he let his head fall forward under the spray. “Yer name’s Elias, right?” he asked the fox.

“Yeah.”

  “How come ye ain’ bothered by all the yellin’ and push-ups? Ye act like this mess is old hat fer ye or somethin’.”

  Some of the other recruits nodded and ears swiveled in the direction of the conversation or leaned that way for the other two humans in the male portion of the group of recruits

  “I’ve already spent time in the Alexandrian Navy. I guess that this is old hat for me.” The fox hit the lever on a wall mounted dispenser and dropped a blob of odd, green colored gel soap into his paws and began to work it into his fur before eyeing the human and then the others. “Look, all the yelling and stuff? It’s a mind game. They yell at you, but it’s so everyone can hear what the mistake was and not repeat it.”

  “What about the push-ups and running?” a lanky weasel asked in irritation.

  Elias chuckled. “Physical conditioning. They have to push us, build up stamina. We need to learn our limits so we can improve them.”

  “An’ the thrashin’ I keep gettin’?” Alistair asked with a plaintive expression.

  The white fox laughed in earnest. “You? It’s because you’re a joker. You act like nothing is serious.” His expression hardened as he regarded the human and shook his head slowly. “You’re the kind of guy that gets others killed.”

  “It’s because he’s a rich kid,” a leopard said, moving away from the shower that he’d occupied and stepped up to Alistair with a sneer, his posture showing he was looking for a fight. “Spoiled, soft rich kid.” The leopard cracked his knuckles. “And it’s because of you we were late for equipment issue and had to run around that damn hangar.”

  “No,” Elias said. “They were going to do that anyway. Alistair was just the one they used for a scapegoat.” He casually worked the soap further into his coat, though kept an eye on the situation.

  “I still say it was the rich kid’s fault,” the cat persisted. “Maybe the instructors aren’t the only ones that need to thump on you,” he said as he flexed his fingers and extended his claws. “Why’re you here, rich kid? Mommy and daddy cut off your allowance? Maybe they got tired of you being a useless waste of meat lying around? Typical behavior from a monkey if you ask me.”

  Elias let his ears press back and fought the urge to let his teeth show. “Leave it be, Timmons. It wasn’t his fault.”

  “Go lick yourself, fox!” the leopard snarled without looking away from Alistair. “This ain’t your concern!”

  Alistair jumped back when the feline made a feinting swipe towards the young human’s crotch, as if he were going to castrate him, his fists coming up to protect himself. Then, in a blur of white that sent droplets of water flying, Elias had the cat’s wrist and pulled up and back, yanking the leopard backwards to the tiled floor of the shower. Following the takedown with a kind of spin, Elias had the leopard’s arm around his own throat as the spotted cat was suddenly on his belly and completely immobilized.

  “Tell me to lick myself again, and you’ll be drinking your meals through a straw the rest of the time we’re here,” Elias warned, the insult considered extremely foul among the different furs of the PA. “The same goes for calling humans monkeys. Now leave off. Alistair didn’t get us in trouble. It’s just part of the training. Got it?”

  The leopard nodded silently and slinked back to his own shower terminal after being let up. Elias resumed his own washing, though accepted the nod of thanks from the human. “I don’ think ye made a friend there,” Alistair commented.

  “Maybe, but you have even less friends here than me at the moment. Look, do us all a favor and mellow out on the jokes and comments, alright? At least when the instructors are around.”

  Alistair nodded. “I can do tha’.” He glanced back at the leopard who was pointedly ignoring everyone else. “And…well, thanks. I’m jus’ a little attached to me bits, don’t ye know?”

  Elias chuckled and began rinsing the suds from his fur.

— NEXT CHAPTER —

Unless otherwise noted, all material © Ted R. Blasingame. All rights reserved.