Prisoners of Sol - Girret Storm Riders (2/11)

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The first step in training was overcoming a natural Girret fear: heights. Teaching us how to rappel was throwing us into the deep end to prove our valor; any Storm Rider would need not to hesitate and to be able to plunge off a daunting cliff, if need be. Test Sergeant Pyed was unrelenting in pushing the new recruits, slithering over in a second at the slightest taste of weakness in the air. I meant literally pushing, when he tailwhipped multiple recruits straight over the edge. I was glad that I’d jumped immediately on my own, rather than having it sprung on me.

The only one who wasn’t being prodded like cattle was the nepotism Rider, Tunia, who got told by Pyed right in front of us that there would be “another day” to earn her scales. She was allowed to jump at her own pace or not at all, and she took it upon herself to tie a knot and call it a day. Her attitude was outright indifferent at best, like she was bothered to be here. It rubbed me the wrong way as the Test Sergeant yelled at us and put us through the ringer. However, I remembered what Narol said about needing to get an inroads with her, and decided to be polite to her face.

I hate to see people blatantly taking advantage of the system. This isn’t what the Storm Riders should stand for…that I’m ingratiating myself to someone who didn’t earn their place, just to get a leg up on advancing out of here. Maybe I am a naive idealist, seeing that I find this all to be unfair and unmissable.

“Hi there!” I said cheerfully, banding together with Narol to approach the relaxing Girret; perhaps if we stuck with her during the first proper training exercise, we’d get higher marks, since it seemed the act of hissing could get Tunia rave reviews. “I’m Redge. I just wanted to say we can watch your back in training, in return for the same kindness.”

Narol flitted his tongue. “Yes, we all want to have the best of friends. The Storm Riders are about bonding and choosing wisely. The more we band together, the less we all have to shoulder the work. There’s a mutual interest in that—just get through it and not suffer. I’m here because I have to be to get the job.”

“Same,” Tunia hissed, a bitter glint in her eyes. “My parents say I have to be in the Storm Riders, at least for a few years, so there’s no blemishes in the ‘family lineage.’ I know they bribed Pyed just to pass me along. I don’t have to do any more than show up: the bare fucking minimum. The last thing I want is to be in this half-rate, dust-breathing organization!”

I felt a seed of envy form in my chest, though I pushed it down quickly. “You’re fortunate to have an excellent reputation, and from a family with such a heritage, I’m certain you have it in yourself to achieve wonders. Even if you don’t yet know it, you’re here for a reason. That might just be doing your time before carving a new path for your family. Freeing yourself from the legacy they’ve wrought. And that right there is my reason for being here too.”

“We have a lot in common. A common way of thinking and seeing the Storm Riders for the fraud that it is. An end to a means,” Narol added. “What do you say? Should we form a pact, the three of us, to get through this as a group?”

“So long as you prove yourselves useful, though I suppose if you get the boot from the program, that won’t make much of a difference to me.” Tunia slapped her tail against the ground, shooting a distasteful look at the training grounds. “Ugh, what’s the point of this? It’s not like I’d be accepting any vertical rescue mission. I can be in…logistics. Or desk duty. Maybe a grocery run if I have to put a few field missions to my name.”

“All departments of the Storm Riders contribute, and no one will have to know. Making it through training is the achievement you can boast about, and even falsify some details of glorious rescues if you want to add a little…excitement to your resume. Free drinks at bars for life!”

I would love to get free drinks for life, but only by saving their cities. I seek earned praises but once more, that means doing whatever it takes to get through the program. This alliance is a concession, and I sure hope it pays dividends.

I eyed the Storm Riders’ training megastructure as we rode the pulley up to its apex, sizing it up and trying to focus on planning my rescue. The first simulated exercise would pretend that we’d been dangerously helidropped onto the roof of a megastructure, and needed to take a lengthy rappel down the building. After that, we needed to swing through a window onto a smoke-filled floor halfway down, search out trapped personnel (Pyed hadn’t told us how many robots he’d placed), and escape with a passenger in tow. Eventually, we’d be taught to administer medical aid, but the physical stuff would be the bulk of our training. 

For much of Doros’ history, our world’s flat landscape and our natural inclinations kept us from building as high as most other sapient species that we knew of. In the late industrial era, we shot hard in the other direction to compensate and sought the thrill of climbing high buildings; it was at a particular time when the Joust was romanticized, and when living dangerously on the top floor of a tall architectural landmark was called the champion’s view. Those who were able to overcome their apprehension were respected, passing a test by their choice of living.

The Joust and the Storm Riders were the two respected professions that had to overcome the fear of heights for our work, for very different reasons. I checked that my knot was firm, and waited for Pyed to summon the little group we’d formed. After another moment’s thought, I tested Narol and Tunia’s ropes, though I could see the latter wanted to weasel her way out of it. The gears turned in my mind, as I decided to try to run something past the Sergeant when he came by. If it worked, it’d earn me favor with the well-connected recruit. She’d owe me.

“Test Sergeant Pyed, why is Tunia with us?” I asked the instructor, as he slithered over. “She already tested the pulleys and scoped out the landscape, and I see no reason why she should be permitted to jump twice, sir!”

Tunia shot me a sidelong glance. “Hm? Ah, I’m just…eager to impress. Ready to go, but if the valiant Sergeant would like me to sit this one out…”

Pyed’s eyes gleamed, suggesting he saw through all of this. “Go back down the pulley and stand with the others who’ve finished the simulation. Try not to let them notice. In the future, Tunia, I suggest you don’t test your luck.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. There’s nothing to test.”

Tunia sauntered away with relief, shooting a grateful glance over her shoulder. Narol nodded in approval, and slapped me on the back as we followed Test Sergeant Pyed to the jump point. I didn’t give myself a moment to wait, determined to prove that I was unflappable. I leapt over the edge as soon as I reached it, and found myself plummeting impossibly fast in a heartbeat. The ground seemed to stretch in an infinite chasm before me, as I kept falling and falling. Everything in me wanted to scream in terror, with a descent that spanned hundreds of feet, and I clung to the rope in frozen fear.

The wind rushed against my hood and my stomach lurched; it was difficult to remember how to breathe or to cling to any thoughts on proving myself. A dim light flickered on in my brain, as the timer beeped. I pulled on the cinch and let my tail brush up against the building, beyond grateful and dizzily catching my breath when it slowed my fall. Oh, the relief that it’d held. A discombobulated Narol arrived alongside me, and he tried not to look down. Both of us inched our way the last few feet, before kicking ourselves back and swinging through the window.

“Fuck!” Narol coughed, in spite of the protective mask over our heads. My partner was little more than a shadow in a thick cloud of smoke. “How are we supposed to find anyone in here?”

I reached out with my graspers, able to feel for objects while listening out for cries for help. “Our gear is flameproof. We have to trust that, and get up close and personal.”

“Couldn’t they start us out with, I don’t know, a dust storm? Walking around in what we’re actually fighting?”

“Storm Riders have to be prepared for anything. Whatever goes wrong during the storm cycle, we’re the last line of defense. Don’t let doubt creep in. Pyed needs to see that we get the job done, and know that we’re valuable assets—whether we are and we aren’t. In here, it’s you and me. Hold onto me and clear the rooms together!”

Narol latched onto my shoulder, and together, we staggered through the sprawling complex in near blindness. As a joint operation, the two of us were able to grapple onto four civilians and lowered them down, making certain that we only came down afterward. It was a difficult task, but all in all, it passed like a normal day’s work; my nerves had returned, believing that I could do this. The Test Sergeant watched from on high with eyes that I couldn’t quite see, and I hoped he was impressed by our first simulation. There would be a lot more bravery and orderliness needed if we were going to earn our way out of Storm Rider training.

Next

A/N - Chapter 2! Redge and Narol pairs up to try to score brownie points with Tunia, who’s getting obvious favoritism from Pyed and is allowed to skip out on the harrowing heights training. Redge has a jolt of fear as he’s falling hundreds of feet, but he manages to have a smooth-sailing rescue that might bode well for his training. What do you think of nepotism baby Tunia? Are Redge and Narol a good team, and do they have what it takes to be a Storm Rider from what you saw in this exercise?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!