Guardian (War Angel Book 1)

Ford suggests sensor probes, computer intrusion, and flybys. A more aggressive approach comes from Martin, including warning shots and even shooting out the engines. That’s easy to say, now that we know it was a ship full of bad guys. As usual, Greensport crafted a situation that was complex, dangerous, and difficult, with no clear answers. Just like real life.
Everyone else had taken a turn in running a simulation as well. Martin’s simulations tend to be action-heavy combat sims that test your reflexes and tactical ability to the limit. Ford creates masterpieces of subterfuge and trickery. As for mine, I tend to emphasize the big picture, how the mission fits in with the larger fleet actions. Everyone has their strengths, and it gives us a mix of different training missions. Also, we’re running simulations that aren’t like those in the ship’s database. We all know those cold. With a human being running the sim, we’ll get more spontaneity and unpredictability than we’d ever get from the ship’s AI.
Part of the reason for running all these sims is the usual training. All of us pull a lot of simulator time whenever we can’t get real flying hours in. But I also want everyone prepared for whatever we meet in the Belt. The real reason I’m running three-man teams through situations that would take a full Flight is because we’re already a man down. I want everyone to be able to deal with gaps in our formation and be ready to cover for missing people.
We’ll probably have more people taken from us before this is all over.
* * *
There’s nothing like a little physical training to deal with stress. I reserve a path around the ring with my augments, change into my workout gear, and start making laps. You never have enough room on a ship to do everything, so you make do.
I don’t want to miss out on opportunities to work out in full 3 Gs anyway, or I might get soft. Sure, like everyone else here, I’ve got cybernetic augmentation in my muscles and bones, but that makes it even more important to keep fit. Augmentation is not replacement—the rest of my muscles still need care and excise, and if my muscles get too weak and the augments end up doing all the work, that can just keep on spiraling as I get weaker, while my augments take up even more load, and then I’ll be in real trouble.
Also, I’ve got current generation augments, so the nanotech fibers between my muscles grow and repair on their own. The good news is, I don’t have to be cut open to repair them, and they’ll grow in accord with usage, so it’ll also feel as smooth and natural as my unaided movements. The downside is, to keep them balanced means exercise, because they only know what to do and how to grow based on what I’m doing with them.
It doesn’t take as long as I’d like to reach my limits on running. Panting so soon, Mike? Yeah. It turns out you can boost the heart and lungs along with muscle mass, but there’s no way to change the physics of gas exchange as you get larger. More muscle power means more oxygen, and there’s only so much you can boost the heart and lungs.
Now that I’m good and warmed up, I hit the weight room. The heat hits me like a blow to the face. A lot of the Marines turn it up because it makes everything harder, replicating their training regimen on Io. Being able to perform under difficult conditions is vital; we’re trying to train up everything and toughen up. Since we’re under full acceleration, I won’t have to turn up the pull on the magnetic bars, since I’ll be fighting my own weight as well as the bar. Magnetic fields provide the rest of the resistance that I work against. Partly it’s so the ship doesn’t have to carry the excess, useless mass of free weights, but mostly because there’s nothing more useless in zero gravity than a weightless weight set.
Everything that applies to how much oxygen we use applies double to our heat buildup. With all our augmentation and increased size, we pick up heat faster and lose it slower. Everything has a price. Soon, the world is swimming as I push against over a ton of weight, and I’m gasping for breath. By the time I finish, there’s a good, even spread of pain everywhere it needs to be.
Why do we keep pain? These days, anyone with augments can just cut it off, usually at a warning “discomfort” level. Not us. First, pain is an important warning and training system built in to protect us against a world that’s always trying to kill us. Many Jovians are now living in a world where they’re isolated from many dangers in life. Not us. Then there’s the conditioning aspect of pain; helping us function against it is important for both character and willpower. We learn to embrace pain the way we do danger.
So now that I am overheated and exhausted, it’s time for a full contact bout. The exhaustion better simulates the conditions where we’ll actually need to fight and reveals weaknesses in our technique that become apparent under stress. Also, being weak and exhausted makes it less likely that we’ll kill or maim each other in a full contact bout.
I step into the room. Every surface is heavily padded, of course, giving it the nickname the “bounce room.” The padding doesn’t keep it from hurting, though; it’s just enough to keep your skull from getting split open.
My opponent is Master Sergeant Randall Martin. He’s about my size and weight, maybe a bit shorter and broader. This is going to be…interesting. The Jovian Republic Marine Corps (JRMC) take hand-to-hand combat as seriously as we take piloting, or the regular Navy takes navigation. Still, hand-to-hand is