Onboarding

After a few minutes of pushing and prodding, Gallus found himself in a small, air conditioned office. His body instinctively relaxed as he was now away from the crowds and exposed to proper levels of oxygen. His mind though, was far from tranquil. The administrator standing in front of him had a cold and calculating air that set Gallus' teeth on edge. "Sacro, a very latin name. Are you from Earth, or were you born to Imperial fanatics?"

"Both." Gallus admitted, remembering his father's long tirades about the Solar Empire's former glories. The man behind the desk chuckled. "Yeah, well your comrades are going to have a field day with that." He swiped through the screen in front of him, presumably filled with some kind of useful information. Gallus didn't know if it was about him or not, but it still made him uncomfortable.

"It's your lucky day, actually." The man stated. "You and your friend are going to serve together. That's unusual, especially since you were co-accomplices." He flipped through a few more screens, shaking his head in disappointment. "If it were up to me, I'd keep you two far away from each other, but military needs come first."

"Why?" Gallus managed to choke out, fighting the urge to stay silent. The annoyed administrator humored him, drumming his fingers against his desk as he explained. "The 211th, the Void Sharks, lost half their number in a ship crash a couple of days ago. They need reinforcement as soon as possible, and the extent of their losses means we're sending them all our new recruits for a couple of weeks."

"A ship crash?" Gallus asked. "Like it was an accident?" The administrator laughed to himself. "No, there was no accident. They physically crashed into a Bardian raiding barge, damn near tore their flagship in half. I don't think it was intentional, but everyone out in the belt's lost their goddamn mind by now, Solar and Bardian alike."

Gallus wasn't thrilled to hear any of that, and just stared at his lap for a moment, waiting for the man to continue. "The 211th is a penal legion. It's full of men and women like yourself. Political prisoners, deviants, hardened criminals. You get it. We send them out on "interesting missions", where their talents can be best used."

The administrator pushed a new wrist device to Gallus. This one was thick, almost armored in appearance, and a faint red in color. "We're not gonna cuff you anymore, but you'll need to wear this new UWD all the time. It's waterproof, explosionproof, tamperproof, even idiot proof. But you can't take it off, ever. If you do and are unaccounted for, we will assume you're a deserter, and eliminate you accordingly."

The casual way in which the administrator spoke of slaying him send a chill down Gallus' spine. Despite this, he was happy to have a new wrist device. They had taken his when he was convicted, and having a bare wrist felt so strange after years of wearing a personal computer interface. The device was rather heavy, and locked on to his arm tightly.

"Your schedule is pre-programmed on, and it will alert you to any commands or actions you need to take. You'll start your training tomorrow, and once that's done with, we'll send you off to the 211th's flagship." Gallus winced as the device pinched his wrist, it's disturbing red holo-screen displaying a few inches above it.

"Your UWD will tell you where to go, and who to report to. Just do what it says. Any questions?" "Yeah." Gallus mumbled. "Two, actually. What's a UWD, and how long is training?" The administrator laughed, his demeanor temporarily lightening. "Oh yeah, civilians call it a wrist-pal, or some dumb shit like that. A UWD is a universal wrist device. The Stellar Guard doesn't have time for cute names. We prefer acronyms. They cut right to the point."

"And for your second question, training lasts a week, and then we ship you off." Gallus almost jumped in surprise. "I've never held a weapon in my life! Training is only a week?" The man shrugged. "For penal legions, yes. You look like you're in OK shape, nothing a fitness pill can't fix at least. We teach you how to fire a weapon, and who to point it at. The rest of it you'll learn in the field, where you're more liable to remember it."

The man looked at Gallus expectantly. "Anything else?" After a moment's silence, the man waved him off. "Go, I've got a dozen others to see today. Follow the UWD, and stay out of trouble." Gallus left the room and back into the cold and suffocating atmosphere of Alba Longa. It was definitely colder here than in New Brooklyn, and the light civilian clothes he was wearing did a poor job of keeping out the chill.

His UWD's screen expanded out, giving him a modified map of the facility. It didn't show all the base's secrets, but gave him enough information to find his particular room. He walked for at least fifteen minutes before reaching the area for training and holding new recruits. He must have passed by thousands of young people in red training uniforms, and at least hundreds of barrack houses to home them.

These were regular recruits though, set to fill out police stations and garrisons on more hospitable stations and worlds. Some would even go on to serve in the famous Stellar Legions, the lauded offensive arm of the Imperial military. Everyone knew the Legions weren't what they were a hundred or two hundred years ago, but they still commanded the respect of both Imperial and barbarian peoples alike.

He eventually reached the penal section of the facility, which was far more run down than it's normal counterparts. The barrack buildings were made of Martian rock, grey and cold. Mold grew on the edges of the stained windows, and the concrete on the ground was cracked and discolored. It looked like an inner-city slum, laid out in neat martial format.

There were less people moving around in this part of the base, and those he passed by seemed colder and more suspicious. Their eyes darted back and forth quickly, as if used to evading people or predators, and their step was quick and measured. The Imperial military also had size requirements for most of its branches. You had to be at least 185cm tall, which wasn't a problem for most Imperial men, especially those from lower gravity planets.

The penal legions had no such requirements though, so Gallus passed by some conspicuously short people that would never have been allowed in a regular force. Some of them even seemed young; really young, maybe even teenaged. Gallus was expecting to see a sea of hardened criminals, but it seemed like the damned of the penal legions were more pathetic than they were dangerous.

Eventually, he reached his building, another decaying and disgusting structure, three stories tall. He stepped inside quickly, and took in his new environment.