Chapter 5: Blood in the Sand
0600 Hours – Olympus Mons Combat Arena
Dust clouds swirled beneath the artificial dome, shadows cast by the rising Martian sunbeams slicing through the grit like knives. The arena wasn't ceremonial—it was brutal. Forged from actual warzone simulations, it was the academy's answer to hesitation, to weakness.
Instructor Baretz stood atop a rusted platform. His arms crossed, voice amplified through the deck-wide comms.
"Today begins Phase Two. You've been taught theory. Now you will be taught pain."
Cadets shifted uneasily. The smart ones didn't fidget—they watched. Calculated. Kale among them.
"The war out there doesn't care how well you cite logistics. It rewards violence and vision. So today, you will fight. And tomorrow, you will fight again. Not until you win—until you understand what winning costs."
A pause. Then, cold steel humor in his voice.
"We call it The Culling."
Gasps. A few cadets stiffened. Others masked their panic.
Instructor Nia Shalen stepped forward now, tossing a sealed packet to the ground. It cracked open, releasing dozens of shimmering data slates.
"Your new squad designations are inside. Teams of five. You will compete for territory across three combat zones inside the dome. Points will be awarded for captures, kills, and resource control. Medical bots will pull you out before death. Injuries are expected. Failure—is not."
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Squad Assignments (Data Slate Summary)
Squad A: Cassian Dorne, Iris Vael, Hagan Brim, Titus Solan, Mira Shun
Squad B: Kale Stroud, Kora Ten, Ox Magellan, Jin Lorr, Danae Rith
Squad C: Rell Varik, Lie Cadence, Vega Noal, Sif Harden, Dren Ul
Kale's eyes flicked across the list. His squad was a wild mix—no social cohesion, no shared background. Deliberately engineered that way.
He glanced sideways at Kora.
"We're the experiment."
She nodded once. "Then let's rewrite the results."
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0700 Hours – Zone Alpha (Urban Rubble Simulation)
The ground cracked beneath their boots. Kale's squad moved through the simulation: derelict buildings, scattershot drone fire, and audio simulators that piped in the screams of imaginary civilians.
Their first objective: Secure the Comms Relay.
Ox ducked behind cover, plasma rifle humming in his grip. "Contacts north. At least three. Might be Squad A."
Jin Lorr—a wiry girl from one of the Ganymede penal domes—spat in the dirt. "If it's Dorne, I'm flanking. That bastard knocked me out during sparring week."
Kale raised a hand. "Hold. They want us loud."
He pointed to a shattered tower near the relay beacon. "We don't need to take the beacon."
Danae blinked. "We… don't?"
"We just need them to think we will."
A heartbeat later, a grenade arced from behind cover—Jin's, precisely lobbed. It detonated over a fake trooper model, triggering its heat signature like live enemy forces.
As expected, Squad A bit.
Cassian led the charge, firing high with Iris covering his left.
Kale's team, already hidden behind collapsed housing walls, circled around.
Two minutes later, Squad A was wiped.
Shalen's voice rang across the arena from overhead comms: "Squad B captures objective. Squad A—neutralized."
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Meanwhile – Instructor Observation Deck
Commander Lucian Vale leaned forward as Selene Ryker stepped up beside him again.
"This Stroud boy keeps dodging the net," she muttered. "He's playing a long game."
"He's not playing," Lucian said. "He's surviving. Like he always has."
Selene folded her arms. "His team shouldn't be outperforming Dorne's."
"They're not," Lucian said, tone thoughtful. "He is."
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Zone Beta – Supply Cache Encounter
Three hours later, the terrain had changed. Ruined buildings gave way to desert—engineered sand storms and simulated hunger systems starting to wear on the cadets. Energy meters dropped in real-time. Drones buzzed low. No resupplies. No forgiveness.
Squad C had entrenched.
Rell Varik, slick in a high-altitude jacket, surveyed the canyon leading to the supply vault.
"Lie, you're covering left. Sif—mine traps, three layers deep. We don't lose this point. Not to street trash. Not to that Martian gutter rat."
Lie Cadence didn't respond.
She just watched the terrain. Quietly rechecking her magnetic sensor grid.
And waiting.
Because she knew something Rell didn't.
---
Five Minutes Later
A sandstorm struck.
Visibility dropped to ten feet.
That's when Squad B struck.
Jin Lorr lobbed smoke. Danae jammed comms. Ox went in loud—distraction only. He wasn't supposed to win.
Kale and Kora slipped in underneath. Literally. They tunneled through the loose foundation beneath a blown-out fuel station, having mapped weak points two hours earlier.
When the dust cleared, Squad C was down two members. Supply cache? Gone.
Shalen's voice rang again.
"Squad B holds highest score. Culling proceeds to Phase Three."
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1200 Hours – Debrief Room
Kale leaned back, blood crusting over a cut above his eye. They'd all been hit. Danae limped. Jin had a dislocated shoulder. Ox had nearly passed out from heat stroke.
Still. They were top.
Instructor Baretz clapped once.
Loud. Echoing.
"I should fail all of you. You're sloppy, undisciplined, and lucky. But…"
He eyed Kale directly.
"You're mean. You're desperate. And that's what wins battles."
Kale didn't flinch.
"But from now on," Baretz continued, "you fight without medbots. No extraction. No sims. You bleed. Like the men and women on the border worlds who don't have the luxury of second tries."
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Scene Break – Border War Recording (Educational Clip)
> [Visual: Xeno-controlled space above colony world Vaux-Delta] [Audio feed distorted. Screaming. Static.]
"This is Commander Faelin, requesting reinforcements—we are surrounded. Repeat, xenos have breached the capital dome. They're… tunneling through the ground—they're inside the walls—"
[Gunfire. Silence.]
—Transmission Lost—
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Cadet Barracks – Lights Out
That night, Kale stood by the observation glass at the far end of the hall.
Kora approached, quiet.
"You don't sleep?"
"Not often."
She nodded.
Silence stretched.
"You're different," she said finally. "The others want to prove themselves. You want to win."
He looked at her, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
"Proving yourself is for people who still think the system's worth impressing."
"Isn't it?"
He shook his head.
"I'm here because I've seen what the bottom looks like. What we're really fighting for. And it's not medals. Or fleets. It's survival. Control."
She studied him for a moment. Then said, "And when you have it?"
Kale's gaze turned to the stars beyond the glass.
"Then I change the rules."
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