Thirty of them stood in neatly formed lines. Thirty of them, all dressed in the same attire that left them at the mercy of the room's chill. They were positioned far apart, too far to have the body heat of each other to comfort them. All they could do was clench their teeth as the cold gnawed at their skin. They couldn't shiver. They were being inspected, the judges of their fate prowling up and down the rows. None of them wanted to be picked. None of them wanted this life. But they knew what would happen if they disappointed. The life of a slave was life after all. The lodubyal ot loomed at the front, watching silently.
"Recruits! At attention!"
Istar snapped back to the present. She was in a room, but a much larger one currently occupied by about sixty people. They wore uniform clothing as well- the uniform of recruits in the new Orion Space Navy's military forces. This room was much warmer, and they were much closer as well. The group was separated only by a gap down the middle where the woman who had just spoken walked, making her way to the front. There she took up position, like the lodubyal ot of a fesin.
But this was no slavemaster. This was Tabadi Emeria, a highborn matriarch, the very pinnacle of Orion society. True Orion society that was; while the Orion Syndicate still controlled the central territories, they carried little of the original proud culture of the Orions. The matriarch's dress reflected her status; atop the officer's uniform she bore two large, decorated shoulderpads and a tall tiara upon her head. A sheathed dagger hung on her hip, adding to her impressive, upper echelon appearance. Behind this cleanly dressed woman followed three other Orions, one male and two female, all wearing the Delbaj (lieutenant) variant of the trooper uniform, which was more armoured and practical but at that rank also decorative.
"You all know who I am already," Emeria spoke again, her commanding voice resonating across the chamber. "Some of you have met me, others have heard of me. I am the matron of this program, our first and currently only special forces branch. Every military needs its elite: the Klingons have their Yan-Isleth, Starfleet has their MACOs. We have specialized soldiers, but they are just good warriors who have been given equipment suited to their skills. You will be different. You will not be a brute rushing into combat with heavy armour and big guns. You are Orion! You will move with finesse, strike with precision and crush our enemies with impunity!"
The cheer which ensued was greater than anything Istar had heard before. Sometimes after performances, she and her sisters had been given applause, but those were the grunts of tavern crawlers or at best a few offhand remarks from significant visitors. This was different. This was the cry of an army, a rally to battle, a call to be more than fesin ruri or shield-brothers and sisters, but family at heart. Here, dozens of voices joined as one, an Orion people unified not through force or fear, but through hope. Istar hadn't even made up her mind about what to do yet before she found herself joining this chorus, the strings of its glorious rhythm having ensnared her.
When the noise eventually lowered, the male lieutenant stepped forward, "I'm going to tell you up front- this won't be easy. As the Tabadi said, you're going to need to learn more than just how to hold a disruptor. This is a grueling regime. Everything you are will need to be adjusted, from the way you look at things, the way you move, and if you're an operative, even the way you breathe. When we're finished here, you're going to be smarter, faster, stronger, more alert. But not all of us are cut out for this."
"Thank you, Dorul. Don't let him scare you, you won't be seeing too much of him unless you make trouble," Emeria gave the crowd a smirk as she took central stage again. "Nor me, for that matter. You'll mostly be reporting to your trainers. That said, before I send you off, let me remind you of this."
"You are Ghosts," she continued after a brief pause. "You come from different backgrounds, different walks of life, different parts of the galaxy. But here, you must learn to work together. Our people have a tarnished reputation in the galaxy. Others now think of us as cutthroats, pirates, assassins, smugglers. Just as we must fight to put this behind us, you must strive to confront your own ghosts. Do not forget your past, for valuable lessons are to be learned there. Conquer it, carve it into your weapon. We will cast off what we have become and be what we are meant to be. Together we will usher forth a better future for all of us."
"All Operatives, follow Delbaj Vaness and all Operators, go with Delbaj Sishu."
The two women mentioned stepped forward, each taking one side of the room, and it suddenly struck Istar why they were divided this way. Half of them were Operatives, the Ghosts who made use of their physical and weapon prowess on the field, while the other half were Operators, who worked behind the scenes to manage the transporters. Together, they made a Ghost team, allowing the Operative to teleport to strategic locations, infiltrate enemy bases and ships, and beam out before anyone could act against them. Istar, who had been chosen for the program based on her movement skills as a dancer, was assigned to the Operatives. Both groups filed out neatly behind their respective trainers and were led out into the open courtyard.
Istar had been told the story of the training camp when she first visited with Tabadi Mysti, her matriarch and rescuer. Built into the side of Narris II's mountains, the inner facilities of the camp were originally part of a bunker complex meant to shelter OSN personnel from attack. Following the destruction of Narris II's shipyards by the elusive Branded Lady pirate group, the plans for a new shipyard included better fortifications which made the bunker obsolete. As a result, these grounds were reallocated to train ground troops as part of the rebuilding process.
The trainers led them across the courtyard to a block of medium-sized buildings, which Istar knew from her tour to be the living quarters. They gathered again in front of those, now with much more space between the two groups. Combined with the sounds of daily training, that is the background noises of hollering instructors, firing disruptors and chattering trainees, they could no longer hear anything from the other group, including what their respective trainers were saying.
Once all the Operative trainees were assembled, their trainer spoke, "My name is Vaness. I look after all the Operatives here, and I'm also the acrobatics instructor, so you'll be seeing me a lot, especially during the first few weeks when movement training is paramount. Alongside this, you'll be taking tactics classes with Haisran and learning to handle basic weapons with Taovenur, the Lethean. Once you advance far enough he'll start you on sniper weapons and you'll also learn to handle yourself in hand-to-hand with our resident Klingon. Neshe will make sure you can move quickly and be silent about it, but movement training never stops, which is why I'm your primary trainer."
"You heard what the Tabadi said about working together," she referred back to Emeria's speech from earlier. "You will have to learn to work cohesively as a unit. Most vital of all though, you will have to work with your Operator very, very closely. They are your other half. You can never do anything without them. You need to know them well enough to the point that you can communicate with them with no misunderstanding. A single error on the field can be the end of you. That is why you will live together from today on. Inevitably we'll lose Operatives on the field and the Operators will have to learn to work with a new one, but that's for them to worry about."
"In spite of the part about learning to work with different backgrounds, we've decided to ease the process by making carefully selected pairings. Each of you will be paired with someone that we think you're likely to get along with. I'm going to hand you your partners' names, your room assignments and your daily schedule. Classes begin tomorrow, go get some sleep and get to know your Operators."
She took the PADD and stared at it, not daring to look into the eyes of her new master. Another exchange. Another establishment to work in. A better life? She dreamed, but something within her yearned to make it reality one day...