It felt weird walking into the hanger instead of walking out of it. The hangar looked the same as it always had, two Pelican extraction shuttles on the port side, three Eagle assault aircraft to starboard. A huge bay door sat behind each aircraft where the vehicles deployed from. Several tubes, hoses, and robotic arms hung dormant on the ceiling above each bay while an array of munitions lay on the deck before each of the Eagles in neat rows. In the center of the hanger, a member of the Hanger Corp staff member stood next to a small table with a stack of data slates. Before her stood three chairs in a line. Bruce walked toward her while examining the munitions, smiling when he was able to identify what they were.
Maybe I am ready for this.
“Welcome to the Hanger Corp entry examination Helldiver. Do you feel prepared to join our ranks?” The person asked.
“I think so.” Bruce said as he approached, “Are you a pilot? Your voice sounds familiar.”
“I am. Please take a seat. We will begin when the other two test takers arrive.” Bruce sat at the middle desk and tried to keep his excited mind from racing. He wanted to ask her all about her experience and what it was like to fly. He got the impression, though, that he should probably wait quietly. Before long, the two other Helldivers joined to sit on either side of him. He recognized them from around the ship, but he didn’t know either of their names.
“The examination to join the Hanger Corp will consist of three parts: Basic aptitude, academic and knowledge examination, and a medical examination. The basic aptitude portion will be done here using these data slates.” The pilot said giving each of the Helldivers one of the handheld devices. “When you are finished with this portion, bring the slate with you, and exit through the door on the far side of the hanger.” She pointed to the door opposite of where Bruce had entered the hanger. “You will gain further information then. You may begin after I exit through the door. Good luck.”
When the pilot had closed the door behind her, Bruce took a deep breath to calm his nerves, then turned on the device. The basic aptitude dealt with spatial orientation, multi tasking, and memory and reasoning. As a Helldiver, Bruce was well versed in working with these concepts. Gauging distances, multiple moving targets, and memorizing strategem call in sequences were second nature to him. Unfortunately, this was a different warspace than he was used to. The examination took a more practical approach over traditional question and answer based items. He was tasked with finding headings of distant craft both in and out of atmospheric conditions, solving logical and numerical problems while monitoring fuel levels, all while keeping a list of objects in his mind to recall them at the end of the testing portion.
This part of the exam took roughly two hours to finish, and left his mind feeling like mush when he was finished. He stood, stretched his arms over head, then walked through the door the pilot had previously indicated. In contrast to the dark paneling and metal aesthetic of the hanger, this room was bright white. Bruce blinked his eyes several times, feeling his pupils push themselves into pin pricks to keep him from going blind. As his eyes adjusted, he saw three tables and chairs with headsets on them. One other candidate was sitting at a desk furiously scribbling on her tablet. The data slate in his hand vibrated. He looked down to see a timer counting down from sixty minutes and a message that said “Please put on a headset and take a seat.” He rushed over to a chair and slipped the headset over his ears. The timer moved to the top left of the dataslate as a voice in the headset instructed him to write down the answer to the question that was asked onto the dataslate, then followed that up asking if he understood. Bruce paused for a few moments waiting for a yes or no box to appear. When nothing appeared, he looked around the room for any indication of what he should do.
“Please keep your eyes on your own dataslate. Do you understand?” The voice asked again.
“Yes I understand.” Bruce said. Still nothing happened.
The other candidate saved him, “Write down the answer dummy.”
Bruce wrote ‘Yes’ on the slate. A black box appeared around the word, then the slate erased itself. “Thank you.” The voice said before asking the next question. He stole a glance at the timer that now said he had less than fifty seven minutes remaining.
I wasted three minutes figuring out the test. What the hell?
The voice finished asking a question, but he was so concerned with the time he missed most of it. Something about safe landing areas for the Condor class gunship. Bruce wrote ‘Repeat’ on the slate. As before, the black box appeared around the word then erased itself before asking the next question.
Sweet Liberty, did I just answer a question about landing zones with Repeat? Get your shit together Bruce.
The questions were a mix of multiple choice and short answer. He had felt prepared for this section but between not knowing how the test was administered, and his brain being mush from the previous portion of the exam, his confidence in his studying began crumbling around him. Vocabulary and ship statistics was part of it, but the questions also included mathematical equations he didn’t recognize as well as physics and aviation principal questions he wasn’t prepared for. He answered questions in almost a dazed trance until the dataslate changed from white to black and the voice asking the questions went mute mid question.
A different voice came over the headset, “Hang tight Helldiver. We’ll come get you in a little bit.” Bruce wrote ‘Ok’ on the blank dataslate then dropped the pen as he realized how ridiculous that was. He rubbed a hand on either side of his face then pushed his palms into his eyes to enjoy a few moments of pitch blackness from the blinding lights in the room. He tried thinking about the specific questions both exams had asked, but nothing stuck out to him.
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Three hours spent answering questions and I can’t remember a single one? What is wrong with me?
He lifted his head from his hands when he felt the headset being lifted from his head. The bright white of the room made him squint momentarily as the support staff beckoned him through a door and into the medbay beyond.
“Oh wow I didn’t know the hanger and the medbay were connected like that.” Bruce said.
“Yep. Makes it easier to put you all back together when we can get you right out of the Pelicans.” The medic said. Bruce thought he recognized the medic from one of his visits to get his injections, but he hadn’t ever spoken to him directly. He hopped up onto a medical table then was put through a full medical evaluation separate from what he had undergone when he’d tested to join the Helldivers.
Helldiver medical screening consisted of little more than making sure a person's joints worked and basic vision and hearing tests. It was wildly joked that if a person had a pulse, they were accepted as a Helldiver.
The flight exam went over his entire medical history from childhood to present. They poked and prodded him to make sure his organs and extremities worked as intended. He took several vision and hearing tests, while hooking him up to medical instruments to monitor his heart and vital signs.
When he was finished, Bruce checked the clock. He had been testing for over six hours and was mentally exhausted. He grabbed dinner with his squad then headed back to his hex to sleep. They told him results would be out the next day and he would get an alert when they were ready.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The results weren’t what he wanted. Not even a little bit.
He’d passed the medical exam despite having a note about his new leg. He knew that might hold him back but it would regrow so that didn’t have a mark against him. What bothered him the most was the lack of information about how the test was going to be administered. If he had known he would have had to write the answer on the dataslate, or that the entire first portion would be scenario based, he could have prepared better.
It didn’t feel fair. Why hadn’t anyone, or anything, suggested this was how it was going to be? All the information he’d found about the test was the date, and a list of twenty four manuals to study. Each manual had between fifty and three hundred forty pages to it.
There is no way anyone could know all of this...
Bruce felt tears forming as his vision started to blur. He took deep breaths to try to settle himself but it didn’t work. The edges of the dataslate bit hard against his palms as he squeezed the tablet in frustration. The screen popped, cracked, then snapped as he broke it in half. One half slammed into the bulkhead above his bed as he threw it behind him, the other half shattered into several small bits as he slammed it against the desk.
The door to his hex irised open and Candice burst into the room. “Hey how did... Oh...” She said, kneeling next to him and putting a hand on his arm. “Didn’t go so well huh?”
“No.” Bruce snapped. “No it didn’t.”
“You know what to expect now. You’ll get it next time.”
“If I make it that long. I’m losing my fucking mind in here, and Helldivers die every day.” Bruce fought hard to keep his voice even. He wanted to shout his frustration, but yelling at Candice wouldn’t make him feel better.
“I know you are. Why don’t you-”
“HELLPORT LAUNCH SEQUENCE INITIATED.” The speaker blared.
Candice pulled her hand from Bruce to look at her squad comm. She stood, frowning. “I’m on this one.”
“OF FUCKING COURSE!” Bruce screamed, emptying his lungs in the process.
“We’ll talk when I get back. I promise.” Candice said, running from his pod.
“Be safe!” He shouted to her as the door closed behind her. The red light stopped spinning, and with his dataslate in pieces, the only light in the room came from the one way window in front of him. Bruce watched with growing fury as his fellow Helldivers sprinted from their hex pods to the Hellchute and plummet out of sight. His mind raced with what to do with the adrenaline surging through his veins. He couldn’t take sitting in his pod, but he wasn’t cleared for exercise just yet. Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself stomping down the catwalk toward the nose of the ship.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Helldiver on deck!” The support staff shouted as Bruce pushed onto the command deck.
“I was just going to go looking for you after this dive got underway.” The Lord Commander said, looking through the planetary hologram at him.
“I need something to do!” Bruce without coming to attention. “I’m losing my...” It occurred to him as someone nearby cleared their throat that he was wildly out of line. Coming to his senses, Bruce stood at attention. “Sir, requesting clearance to resume responsibilities as a Helldiver.”
“Come on up here shipmate.” The Lord Commander said, turning to walk toward the windows. Bruce walked forward to join him.
“I’m guessing the results of your testing weren’t what you were hoping for.” The Lord Commander said looking out the window.
“No sir they weren’t.”
“I’m not supposed to tell you this, but it takes four attempts on average for a Helldiver to test high enough for pilot training.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The Hanger Corp needs to know that their pilots are serious about joining. Those machines they fly are capable of incredible feats. One wrong move and not only do we lose an expensive piece of equipment, we lose a valuable pilot, and everything onboard.
“You’ve been very vocal about your frustrations with SEAF these last few weeks. Imagine your discontent if your friends didn’t come back because of a pilot's negligence. We put our faith in an Eagle pilot's ability to hit the stratagem target on time, or the Pelican pilot getting from the Super Destroyer to extraction and back in one piece. The stakes are higher for the Hanger Corp. They need to be certain of every candidate.”
Out the window before them, a salvo of Helldivers launched from the belly of a ship, Orange flames marking their entry into the atmosphere. From a different ship, an orbital laser blasted a hot streak of death across the surface of the planet while the 380mm cannon hammered high explosive rounds toward the surface.
“I hadn’t considered that sir.”
“It may be frustrating at times, but things happen for a reason.” The Lord Commander turned from the window to regard Bruce. “I can override your convalescence if that is what you wish. Do you truly feel ready for deployment?”
Bruce paused for a moment to consider what he’d just heard. His leg was feeling pretty good and he hadn’t tripped in a few days. He wasn’t sure he could run just yet, but it wouldn’t be long before he could start pushing himself again. For the first time in about a month he thought about his stature with a clear head. “No sir. I don’t believe I am.”
The Lord Commander smiled. “I’m glad you took a moment to consider. I do have something you may be able to help us with.” The Lord Commander hit a few buttons on his squad comm. “I’m temporarily reassigning you to Stratagem Support. Have you been there before?”
Bruce shook his head. “No sir I haven’t, but I passed a door that said stratagem staging in the long hallway on my way here.”
“Good. Check in with them on your way back to your room. They’ll get you set up. We’ll get you back into the fight.”
