The processing of the first batch took over six hours. By the time the final papers were stamped and the last duffel bags issued, it was 3:00 PM. The mountain sun was still bright, but the air was beginning to carry a sharp, biting chill.
"ALRIGHT, FIRST BATCH! GET IN THE TRUCKS! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!"
The Sergeants' voices hadn't softened, but they sounded more urgent now. The time for paperwork was over; the time for transportation had begun. Jack hoisted his duffel bag onto his shoulder and signaled to his friends.
"Alright guys, let's get a move on," Jack said, his voice tight with anticipation.
Luke climbed into the back of the transport, looking back at the warehouse where they had just eaten. "I'm gonna miss this place," he said dramatically, clutching his stomach.
Kenlil rolled his eyes, shoving Luke further into the truck to make room for Tavros. "Stop being dramatic, Luke. What are you going to miss? The gravel or the yelling?"
"The food," Luke replied simply. "That steak was the best thing I've eaten in three years. I have a bad feeling the next meal won't be served on a ceramic plate."
Everyone in the truck chuckled, a brief moment of levity as the engines roared to life. The convoy lurched forward, leaving behind the hundreds of recruits still waiting in their civilian clothes, huddled like sheep in the intake yard.
"I wonder if they'll have to sleep there?" Luke asked, watching the warehouse shrink in the distance.
"They'll finish tomorrow, or the day after," James said, leaning against the cab of the truck. "We've got a year of training ahead. Six months of basic, six months of advanced. They aren't going to let anyone rot in a reception center for more than a few days."
"Where do you think they're taking us?" Kenlil asked, looking at the dense treeline as they began to ascend again.
"Deeper," James said. "My father was in the 75th Airborne. I've never heard of this 506th Regiment or a 98th Division, but I know how the Airborne works. They don't train you near a city. They want you somewhere where the only way out is through a jump-door."
The truck convoy ground its way higher into the Tanabas range. The road turned into a series of white-knuckle switchbacks. Most of the recruits fell into a nervous silence; a few tried to sleep, their heads bobbing against the canvas. Jack closed his eyes, trying to catch a quick nap, but the altitude was making his ears pop rhythmically.
"Hey guys, look!" Luke's shout startled Jack awake.
They had reached the summit pass. The trucks were hugging a narrow shelf of road carved into the granite. To their left was a sheer rock wall; to their right, a drop that vanished into a sea of clouds. The view was staggering—a vast, green empire of peaks and valleys that stretched toward the horizon.
Even the truck driver leaned his head out the window, a small smile on his face. "I've driven this route ten times this month. I still can't get used to it."
"Damn," Kenlil whispered, looking down at the clouds. "I think I'm officially done with the city. I want to live up here someday."
"Me too," Jack agreed, the fresh, thin air filling his lungs.
Suddenly, a massive shadow swept over the convoy. A gust of wind buffeted the truck, and a high-pitched, reptilian shriek echoed off the cliffs. The recruits ducked, some covering their heads.
"Is that—?" Luke started, his eyes wide.
James smiled, looking up at the white-winged shape soaring above them. "That's a Wyvern. A mountain variety."
"Isn't that thing dangerous?" Kenlil asked, clutching the side of the truck.
"The white ones are neutral," James explained, acting as the group's resident encyclopedia. "They mostly hunt mountain goats and large rodents. It's the dark ones you have to worry about—the reds and the greens. They're territorial. If you see a green one, you're already in its sights."
As they watched, the Wyvern folded its wings and dived, vanishing below the treeline. A moment later, it rose again, a struggling mountain sheep clutched in its talons.
"Neutral, huh?" Kenlil muttered. "Tell that to the sheep."
"At least it's not us," James chuckled.
Two hours later, the convoy slowed. They had reached a plateau near the very peak of the mountain. Before them stood a massive clearing surrounded by a double layer of chain-link fence topped with razor wire. Watchtowers stood at every corner, manned by soldiers with heavy machine guns.
"Camp Tanabas," Luke read the sign aloud. "Looks more like a prison than a base."
"It's newly built," Jack noted. He could see the fresh, unpainted timber of the barracks and the smell of sawdust still hanging in the air. In the training grounds, there were various sections for physical training. Human and elven sections were standard, but the beastfolk section was different, designed to train quickness since they were naturally stronger but often slower to react. In the far fields stood five 35-foot towers for jump training, and to the left were circular platforms with a rope hanging on 50-foot poles on the side.
As the trucks parked in the center of a massive asphalt square, the tailgates were kicked open.
"OFF! OFF THE TRUCKS! YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO BE ON THAT YELLOW LINE OR I WILL PERSONALLY CARRY YOU THERE BY YOUR TEETH! MOVE, YOU SIGHTLESS SWINES!"
The voice belonged to a human Sergeant who looked like he had been carved out of granite. Jack scrambled out of the truck, his boots hitting the pavement hard. He followed the crowd toward a literal yellow line painted across the asphalt.
"EYES FRONT! HEELS TOGETHER! HANDS AT YOUR SIDES!"
Jack stood at attention for the first time in his life. To his left, an elf was trying to maintain an air of dignity; to his right, a beastfolk looked around in utter confusion. The Sergeant began to "walk the line," his face inches from theirs.
One beastfolk recruit made the mistake of following the Sergeant with his eyes. The Sergeant stopped instantly.
"WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME, PRIVATE? DO YOU LIKE MY SKIN? DO YOU WANT ME TO REMOVE YOUR FUR SO YOU CAN SEE ME BETTER?!"
"N-no sir, I was just—"
"YOU WILL ANSWER ME ONLY WITH 'YES, SERGEANT' OR 'NO, SERGEANT'! IS THAT CLEAR?!"
"Y-yes, Sergeant!" the recruit stammered.
The Sergeant turned to the entire group, his roar echoing off the mountain peaks. "IS THAT CLEAR?!"
"YES, SERGEANT!" 114 voices screamed in unison.
"Good," the Sergeant said, pacing slowly. "When your name is called, you will respond with 'Here, Sergeant' and run to the flag with your designated letter. Behind those flags are your Platoon Leaders. They are your mothers, your fathers, and your gods from this point forward. Do you understand?"
"YES, SERGEANT!"
"Able Company!" the Sergeant began. "Abellano, Kenneth!"
A human ran toward the 'A' flag.
"Achellar, Henry!" A tall elf followed.
Names were barked out in quick succession. "Bennet, James!"
James shouted his reply and ran toward Able Company. He looked back for a split second, a flash of sadness in his eyes as he realized he was being separated from the group, but he quickly snapped back into his stoic mask.
The Sergeant moved to Baker Company. Jacob Daniels was called there, separating him from his lifelong neighbor, James. Then came Charlie and Dog Companies.
Jack felt his heart hammering. Kenlil, Tavros, Natalia, and the others were still standing on the line.
"Easy Company!" the Sergeant barked. He went through six names before calling, "Heinbach, Natalia!"
Natalia's voice was too quiet, swallowed by the wind.
"Natali—" the Sergeant began to repeat, but Natalia was already standing beside him. She had moved so fast, or perhaps so quietly, that he hadn't noticed her approach.
The Sergeant jumped, letting out a brief, high-pitched yelp of surprise. A few recruits in the back let out a muffled chuckle.
"WHAT'S SO GODDAMN FUNNY?!" the Sergeant screamed, his face turning purple with embarrassment. The silence returned instantly. Natalia just walked to the Easy Company flag and raised her hand as if nothing had happened.
"Luvillan, Kenlil Aishall!"
"HERE, SERGEANT!" Kenlil bolted toward Natalia.
"Mulligan, Tavros!"
"HERE, SERGEANT!" The massive beastfolk loped over to join Kenlil, the two of them sharing a quick, clandestine look of relief.
Jack stood frozen, muttering a silent prayer. Come on, Easy... give me Easy... He saw the Sergeant flip a page. His heart sank. He thought the list for Easy Company was finished.
"Marcello, Sarah!" An elven woman ran past him. Three more names followed. Jack's hope dwindled to nothing.
"And for the last name of Easy Company..." the Sergeant paused, looking at the manifest. "Sterling, Jack!"
Jack's eyes widened. He almost pumped his fist but caught himself. "HERE, SERGEANT!" He ran toward the flag, falling in beside a beastfolk woman named Emily Randell.
He looked at his new line. Natalia, Kenlil, and Tavros were all there. They had made the cut.
The Sergeant moved on to Fox Company, where Luke was assigned. Philip was sent to Gulf Company, and Oscar to How Company. By the time the sun began to set, the group of friends from Marmello had been scattered across the regiment.
They were no longer just a group of friends. They were soldiers of the 506th, divided by company letters and platoon numbers. But as Jack looked at Kenlil and Tavros standing in the same line, he knew that despite the separation, they were going to face the long, hard year ahead together.