Chapter 12 — Sibko Training Facility, P19 (3018 IS)
Deep within the mountain ranges of P19, hidden beneath layers of rock, steel, and secrecy, stands the Sibko Training Facility — the heart of Clan Wolverine's future.
This is where warriors are forged.
Not just MechWarriors — but scientists, engineers, tacticians, medics, and commanders. Every role required to sustain a reborn Wolverine society is trained here, shaped from raw potential into disciplined purpose.
Adjacent to the Sibko complex lies a second, colder structure:
The Newtype Warrior Breeding Facility.
Behind its reinforced walls rest two thousand incubators — artificial wombs housing the next generation of Wolverine blood. These children are not born by chance. They are engineered, cultivated from Silas' genetic template, combined with carefully selected donor material to maximize intelligence, adaptability, resilience, and Newtype sensitivity.
Thanks to recovered Artemis Facility technology and the scientific expertise of Clan Wolverine's Khan, accelerated growth has become both possible and stable.
⸻
Newtype Growth Timeline (Accelerated, Stabilized)
0 – 3 Months
Infant to toddler stage
Rapid development of:
• Motor skills
• Neural pathways
• Cognitive patterning
• Sensory calibration
Early personality markers begin forming.
⸻
3 Months – 6 Years
Growth slows deliberately to allow safe stabilization of:
• Bone density
• Muscular structure
• Nervous system
• Reflex architecture
• Emotional regulation
Training begins early:
• Language fluency
• Clan history
• Tactical logic
• Combat theory
• Emotional discipline
• Identity conditioning as Wolverines
⸻
6 – 8 Years
Growth acceleration resumes.
• Physical maturity rapidly increases
• Hormonal development normalized
• Reaction speed and reflex loops sharpen
• Newtype sensory awareness intensifies
• Neural processing efficiency surpasses baseline humans
By Year 8, they appear teenage-aged physically,
but carry eight years of dense education, psychological conditioning, and combat preparation.
They are not children.
They are Wolverines.
⸻
Integration & Training Classes
Once their accelerated growth cycle completes, Newtype Warriors are transferred into the Sibko Training Facility, where they train alongside:
• Natural-born teenage recruits
• Young adult volunteers
• Civilian applicants seeking Wolverine citizenship
All trainees are organized into performance and role-based classes — combat, science, engineering, logistics, command, and special operations.
Every graduate earns a Wolverine Metal Badge, symbolizing both rank and status within Clan society.
⸻
Badge Colors & Meaning
Gray — Initiate
Cadets still in training
No command authority
Meaning: Potential
Bronze — Warrior
Standard combat-qualified Wolverine
Infantry, vehicle crews, junior MechWarriors
Meaning: Blooded
Silver — Veteran
Experienced fighters
Lance leaders
Mission-proven
Meaning: Trusted
Gold — Elite
Aces
Special forces
Exceptional pilots
High-tier Newtype operatives
Meaning: Excellence
Black — Command
Officers
Star Captains
Strategic leadership
Meaning: Authority
Crimson — Khan's Guard / Legendary
Hand-selected
Hero-class
Silas' personal guard
Living symbols of Clan Wolverine
Meaning: Myth
-//-
A young girl — a teenager with blonde hair and bright blue eyes — lowered her datapad after finishing the latest briefing report.
It contained recent updates, Clan Wolverine reconstruction progress, and a long article detailing Clan history, the Exodus, and the rebirth of Wolverine beyond Clan Space.
She had already read it several times.
And yet, it still fascinated her.
Before she could sink back into thought, a familiar voice interrupted.
A taller girl stepped into view — brown hair, brown eyes, broader shoulders, stronger build. Where the blonde was sharp and analytical, this one radiated confidence and physical presence.
Zelary: Reading it again? Come on, Tanya — what is that, the eighth time? We all know we're heading to the facility. What's the point of rereading it when we already know what's coming?
The blonde girl calmly set her datapad aside and looked up.
Tanya: It's simple. I find it fascinating how our society operates — especially compared to the Clans back in Clan Space. We're not just surviving out here in the Periphery. We're rebuilding. Evolving.
She folded her hands, voice steady and thoughtful.
Tanya: And our history matters. Knowing where we came from — and why we exist — isn't a waste of time.
Tanya had always been like this.
Even back in the Newtype Warrior Facility, she had been top-tier in theory, history, and analytical training. Calm. Focused. Methodical.
Zelary rolled her eyes with a grin.
Zelary: Whatever. None of that changes the fact that I'm getting a bigger badge than you, little sis.
Her tone was teasing — half competitive, half affectionate.
Tanya smirked faintly.
Tanya: Yes, yes. You'll defeat me. I'll become your subordinate. I've heard it all before.
She gestured casually.
Tanya: And you know full well we're all siblings here.
A brief pause — more serious now.
Tanya: Most of us share the same genetic father and donor pool. We're the new generation of Clan Wolverine — designed, raised, and trained together.
She hesitated slightly before continuing.
Tanya: Some of us have already been pre-selected for adoption into established family units. Families who want children… but can't have their own.
Her voice softened — not sad, but reflective.
Tanya: The rest of us will have to earn our place through achievement.
Zelary crossed her arms.
Zelary: You mean the Trials.
Tanya nodded.
Tanya: Yes. Individual evaluations. Combat, intellect, leadership, discipline. Our starting rank will depend on how well we perform.
A small, sharp smile formed.
Tanya: Anything beyond that? We earn it ourselves.
—///—
Theodore POV — Sibko Training Facility, P19
The Pirate Coalition War left me battered—physically and otherwise.
More scars than I care to count. More ghosts than I'll ever outrun.
But thanks to newer medical care and a stubborn refusal to stay down, I'm still standing.
And with everything changing on P19, I did what I've always done.
I adapted.
Now I'm a Sibko Commander, one of several tasked with training the next generation of Clan Wolverine—both Naturals and Newtypes alike.
I won't lie.
I prefer this.
Teaching suits me better than command ever did. Still, being assigned three hundred cadets is more than I'm used to. I trained lances, not armies of children.
But I'll make do.
I always have.
⸻
I walk the main hall of the training wing, boots echoing against polished stone and steel. Ahead of me, my cadets stand in perfect formation—backs straight, eyes forward, not a trace of fear on their faces.
Good.
But fearlessness alone won't save them.
I stop in front of the line, hands clasped behind my back, eyes moving from face to face.
Theodore:
"Morning, cadets."
My voice carries.
Theodore:
"I welcome you all to hell."
A few of them stiffen. None flinch.
Good.
Theodore:
"From now until the day you graduate, this place will test you—physically, mentally, and emotionally. You will be pushed harder than you think possible."
I take a step forward.
Theodore:
"Before any of you get clever, let me be clear: you will not give me lip. You will follow every routine. You will obey every order. You will complete every task."
I pause.
Theodore:
"Do I make myself understood?"
Cadets:
"Sir, yes sir!"
The echo is sharp. Disciplined.
Theodore:
"Excellent."
I turn slightly, gesturing down the corridor.
Theodore:
"Within the next three hours, all of you will run the obstacle course. You'll be timed. Near the end of the year, you'll run it again—and you will beat your previous time."
A few swallowed breaths. Still no fear.
Theodore:
"For now, report to your quarters. Get acquainted with your bunkmates. Learn who you're going to rely on when things get ugly."
My tone hardens.
Theodore:
"And I cannot stress this enough—no tomfoolery."
Cadets:
"Sir, yes sir!"
Theodore:
"Dismissed. I'll see you at the obstacle course."
They break formation and move—fast, orderly, efficient—disappearing down the halls.
I watch them go.
Three hundred lives.
Three hundred futures.
And if I do my job right…
Most of them will live long enough to complain about it.
—//—