Chapter 8 - Blood and Brass and The Cull Begins.
[Border War Clip – Helix Verge, Outer Solar Belt:
The frigate Vigilant Roar burned in space, its engines venting plasma as it fled. Flashes of emerald light chased it down, hissing past the hull and tearing metal from its frame. The xeno cruiser bore down with relentless precision—an angular beast adorned with symbols of some unknown tongue. Inside the command deck, a Terran captain—one-eyed and bleeding—slammed his fist on the comms.
"Evacuate Section 4! Get those civvies out, now!"
A younger ensign turned to him. "Sir, we're not gonna make it—"
"Then make it count," the captain growled, pulling up a manual detonation interface. "Tell Terra... they're not fighting tribes out here. These bastards are trained."
He hit the trigger.
The screen went white.]
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Mars Naval Academy, Lower Decks, Week 2
Kale Drayen adjusted the synthetic fiber on his uniform as he lined up in Formation Deck Gamma with over three hundred other cadets. Some were still panting from the gravity endurance drills; others were steeling themselves for the next phase. Above them hovered a spherical bot, scanning them silently.
Instructor Vallas stalked down the line. His voice was low, precise.
"You think pain builds character? It doesn't. It reveals it."
He stopped in front of a sweating cadet from Luna District—lean, wiry, and shivering.
"You. Name."
"Roan, sir."
"You're dismissed, Roan. Go join the grunts."
Roan's jaw dropped. "W-what—?"
"You didn't complete the drills. You collapsed. Out here, failure doesn't mean demerits. It means death. Get off my deck."
Roan was silent as two wardroids escorted him out.
Kale didn't look, didn't flinch.
He was calculating.
Every moment here was a test. Every eye watching, a judge.
A voice spoke beside him—low, mocking.
"You'll be next, slumdog."
Kale turned slightly. It was Cassian Dorne—bronze-skinned, rich-blooded, and obnoxiously perfect in posture. The crest of the Dorne Conglomerate on his chest gleamed like a challenge.
"Wouldn't bet on it," Kale said without looking at him.
"Your type folds by week four."
"I'm not here to fold."
Cassian smiled without warmth. "Good. I want to see the look on your face when I break you."
---
Command Sim Arena – First Trial: The Burn
Each team was assigned a virtual corvette-class vessel. Eight cadets per team. Four hours to prepare. Opposing team? Unknown. Objective? Survive.
Kale's team had been hastily assembled. A few low-tier cadets from Saturn orbitals. One mouthy guy from Ceres. And... her.
Lie Cadence.
She was quiet. Observant. Short hair slicked back, eyes sharp with calculation. Unlike Cassian, she didn't gloat. She watched.
Kale took the captain's seat. No one challenged him. Not yet.
"Lie," he said. "Tactical?"
"Best I've seen so far is a slingshot maneuver around the asteroid field. Their AI will track it, but if we vent fake plasma and spoof our IFF signal... we might make them think we're a crippled freighter."
Kale smirked. "You think like a predator."
"I think like someone who doesn't want to lose."
He pointed to the pilot. "Execute it. Fake vent sequence, now."
---
Simulation Room B – 1 Hour Later
Cassian's team was furious. Their ship had been lured into a trap, plasma missiles detonating from the debris field while Kale's corvette drifted behind them unnoticed.
Instructor Vallas didn't smile often.
But this time, he gave a rare nod.
"Well played, Team Drayen."
As they filed out, Cassian locked eyes with Kale. There was no friendly rivalry there. Just seething intent.
---
Training Grounds – Midnight
Lie found Kale on the edge of the mess, drinking recycled water and watching the stars through the dome.
"You've got a good head," she said, sitting beside him.
"I'm not here to make friends," he said.
She shrugged. "Neither am I. But doesn't mean I can't respect you."
Kale glanced at her. "Why are you really here, Lie?"
She paused. "Let's just say I owe someone a promise. And the only way to keep it... is to get to the top."
Kale nodded once. "Then let's see if we can both survive long enough to get there."
---
[Border War Clip – Deadstar Anchorage, Xeno-Facing Fringe
The orbital station known as Deadstar Anchorage blinked once in the void—then disappeared in a flash of ultraviolet fire.
Survivor logs would later show the assault had come from beneath the asteroid belt, shielded by an artificial debris cloud. A xeno strike team—compact, surgical—breached the station's hull before planetary sensors even activated. The security captain's last message was fragmented, filled with static and blood:
> "Not raiders. Not pirates. This was precision... they knew."
And then, silence. Another Terran outpost gone dark.]
---
Mars Naval Academy, Outer Drill Fields, Week 3
The message came at dawn: ALL FIRST-YEAR CADETS. FIELD ORDER 12: THE CULL BEGINS.
They'd all heard rumors. Whispers in the dorms, warnings from older cadets too scared to speak openly.
Now it was real.
Four hundred and thirty-two cadets stood shoulder to shoulder beneath the cold red sky. Gunships hovered in the distance. Wardroids marched in silent rows. The instructors stood at the front like executioners. This was no simulation.
The Cull wasn't a drill.
It was war—condensed, brutal, and merciless. Those who failed would be stripped of naval ranking, transferred to infantry units as expendables. Drop Troopers, ground grunts, frontline fodder. Most would die within a year.
Kale Drayen stood in formation, unreadable.
Behind him, someone whispered, "Guess the whelps are getting sent to slaughter."
He didn't need to turn. The voice belonged to Arjun Vale—a sharp-tongued cadet from the Martian arcologies. Arjun had a chip on his shoulder and an ego twice the size.
"You worried, Drayen?" Arjun asked.
"No," Kale replied. "I already know who's going to break."
---
Inside the War Dome – Phase One: Unit Collapse
The doors hissed open, revealing a labyrinth of shattered buildings, smoke, and automated defenses. The rules were simple: two days of full-contact warfare. Twenty-four teams. No re-supplies. No medics.
One rule: Survive.
Lie Cadence checked the magnetic seals on her rifle. "You're sure about this plan?"
Kale didn't look up. "They expect us to hold a fixed position. So we won't."
"Then what?"
"We set up a fake rally point. Feed the wardroids our squad's biometric data. Loop it."
"And us?"
"We flank. We hunt."
---
Six Hours In
Three squads had already failed. One ran out of rations, another walked into a minefield, and the third? Ambushed by Cassian Dorne's team.
Kale's unit was different. He didn't lead like the others—he observed, manipulated, and nudged. By the time the others realized what was happening, Kale's squad had already taken out two teams without firing a single real shot.
Arjun, however, wasn't impressed.
"You keep dancing around fights," he growled. "What happens when we have to engage?"
Kale glanced at him. "Then we do it on our terms."
---
Enemy Contact – Simulated Hostiles: Xeno Vanguard Pattern
The first real test came on the northern ridge. Four autonomous xeno-style wardroids equipped with experimental tactics—fast, precise, unpredictable.
Lie shouted, "Incoming—west slope!"
Kale moved instantly. "Arjun, suppressive fire. Lie, with me—flank wide!"
They moved like shadows through the rubble. Kale's plan was simple: make them think his squad was bigger than it was.
Grenade decoys, sound repeaters, and IFF spoofers flooded the comms. The machines hesitated. That's all he needed.
He whispered, "Now."
A single pulse shot from Lie's rifle shattered the sensor of the lead droid. Kale vaulted over the ledge, planted a sonic mine, and dove back.
Boom.
Three down. One retreated.
The simulation paused.
A broadcast echoed overhead.
> "Squad 17 has eliminated Hostile Node Alpha. Effective tactics. 15 merit points awarded."
---
Nightfall – War Dome Encampment
They took refuge inside an abandoned transport shell. Arjun sat on the far end, arms crossed, fuming.
"We should've pushed. Gone for high ground."
Kale replied, "Everyone goes for the high ground. That's why they die on it."
Lie Cadence smirked. "He's right. The instructors are watching who can think, not just who can charge."
Arjun muttered something under his breath but didn't argue further.
Kale leaned back against the wall. His fingers tapped a rhythm on his rifle. His mind never stopped.
Even now, he was planning.
Not just for this simulation. Not just for graduation.
But for the war that was coming.
---
Meanwhile – Observation Deck
Two instructors stood behind the glass.
Vallas spoke first. "That boy… Drayen. He's not just surviving."
The other, a commander with half a bionic face, nodded. "He's evolving."
They watched the screen. Kale's icon was now red—marked as "High Threat."
A new overlay flickered to life.
> Challenge Mode Unlocked: Phase Two – Live Fire.
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