The Planetary Guard

Omnicorp Guard Initiate Pem Markowski stared at his new uniform in the mirror next to his bunk. It was tailored quickly to fit his scrawny body with dark blue fabric underlying white segments of ballistic armor across the torso, back and shoulders. The corners of the chest were affixed with his nameplate and his only award - voluntary recruit.

He straightened his collar and sighed lightly, staring into the blue eyes he hardly recognized anymore. The dim, yellow cement dormitory somehow reminded him of his cramped home, though cleaner and less haphazard. Markowski knew he could never go back. The slums of the Undercity, the narrow streets and endless noise, his family's cramped quarters—all were behind him now. He was part of something bigger than himself. The sheer thought made his chest ache, a knot of anxiety mixing with hope. This uniform, this new identity, was his best chance at something better.

The drill sergeant called out through the barracks speaker, breaking his thought, “Five minutes to kickoff! Get asses in seats, ASAP.”

The many rows of cubicles burst into organized chaos as each recruit finished preparing their attire and gear. Markowski grabbed his assigned baton and strapped on his helmet before stepping into the stream of guards rushing by his door. Shoulders nudged and bodies pushed him around as they flooded onward. His heart began to race faster than his thoughts as they all swarmed under fluorescent lights toward the doors ahead.

The infantry spilled out onto the training grounds, where dense lines snaked toward the far end of the field. Overhead, sleek drones buzzed like silent sentinels, scanning the recruits and the cold, lifeless cement buildings. Omnicorp banners flapped along the perimeter, a constant reminder of the corporate eyes watching them. Markowski stepped in line behind a taller recruit and checked his badge one more time. His last name and a diamond-shaped ID chip glinted back up at him.

“Excuse me.” The soft voice came from behind. He turned to look and spotted a tiny person, practically being swallowed by her uniform and helmet. She smiled kindly. “Can I squeeze in with you?”

Markowski smiled back and nodded, stepping back to make room. The girl pressed herself into the small space and craned back to speak. “Thanks - you’re the only person who didn’t ignore me.”

Markowski didn’t know what to say for some time. “Um, sure, no problem. Some of these guys can be jerks.”

She chuckled. “Don’t have to tell me.” The line moved up some, allowing her to turn around and face Markowski. She slyly grabbed the badge from his hand, eyeing it carefully. “Mar-kow-ski.” She recited. “Cool name. I’m Sara Eugh.” She pushed up her loose helmet and winked before slapping the card back into his open hand.

Markowski blinked in confusion.

Sarah giggled, “Sorry, guess I come on a little strong, huh?”

He rubbed his neck and laughed back, “Maybe just a little. Good to meet you, Sara.”

“Likewise.” She pushed her sleeves back up. “You nervous?”

Markowski stared ahead to the airships waiting at the end of the field. “Nervous, anxious, and kinda sick. You?”

The line moved and she skipped backwards and giggled again, an infectious, innocent sound. “Nah. I’m just grav’d to finally get a uniform that wasn’t made for a giant cyberfreak.”

Markowski smiled, the joke relieving him only slightly.

“But all seriousness? I’m freaked.” She pushed her helmet up again. “I know I passed the physical and the written, but the field exam feels like such a different beast. Y’know?”

He nodded in agreement. “You passed both, so what post are you going out for?”

“Field medic.” She looked around, curiously eyeing the swaths of other initiates around them. “But eventually I want to be in space or maybe even spec ops.”

“Space.” He repeated with awe. “I don’t know if I could ever stomach that… The size of it all is frankly terrifying.”

Sara stood on her tip-toes staring at something far away. “Makes you feel small, too small, right? Oh!” She grabbed Markowski’s arm and pointed to the far side of the field. “See them?”

Markowski followed her finger down the field to a group of several dozen initiates standing behind a separate barricade in three neat lines. Their bodies were already full of shiny cyberware, and their uniforms were taught and well tailored with several decorations each. “Who are they?”

“Primers.” She scanned one of them, her cybernetic eye glowing and whirring softly. “That one in the front, prissy blonde one, that's Afton Marxon. And the muscle beside her is Reginald ‘Reg’ Ku.”

Markowski admired Sara’s eye as it buzzed away, enhancing her vision. “What’s their deal, then?”

Sara blinked and tapped her cheek, steam venting from her cybernetic temple as her eye refocused. “They’re the elite of the elite. Make the exec’s kids seem like street litter. The rest of us are less than dirt.” Her eye whirred loudly with a hiss, causing her to blink rapidly and rub her eyes. “They’ve been groomed and trained for this day their entire lives. They’re already kitted out with the best tech, and get first pick of assignments, no questions.”

The line moved again and Sara held on to Markowski’s arm, stumbling forward. “Sorry, eyes are resetting. Stupid things keep overheating.” She tapped her temple a few more times in frustration. “So what about you? Got any chrome?”

Markowski hesitated. “Just this.” He pulled up his pant leg to reveal a simple prosthetic of metal, gears and wires below his knee. “Got crushed by a cave-in when I was four.”

“Whoa.” She looked at the minimalistic leg, then up at him. “That’s intense. Wait - you said cave-in. Are you from the,” she shifted to a whisper, “Undercity?”

Markowski grinned, “Thanks, but you don’t have to whisper. I’m proud of my heritage.”

She nodded slowly as they moved forward again. “So why the Guard, then?”

He looked out to the invisible horizon, the gleaming skyline of Elysium canvasing his vision. “Because I wanted more.”

“More?”

“Yeah. More than what I could have had down there.” He looked at the synthetic grass below his feet and again saw his family, still laboring within the endless ghettos far beneath them. “It’s always just hot, sour recycled air and rusted metal, no matter how far you climb. I wanted better for myself, and maybe even kids someday.” By now they had crossed a majority of the field and could hear the airship engines idling ahead.

“That makes sense to me!” Sara’s voice picked up as the noise grew louder. “Anyways, why don’t you send me your digits?” She pulled her holopad out of her pocket and held it out.

Markowski gleamed and pulled his pad out, tapping it on top of hers. They chimed together as two large infantry bots guided them away toward separate airships. The engines drowned out any final words, but Markowski caught Sara’s wave from across the crowd. She hopped in place, grinning as the bots herded them toward separate airships. He waved back, a small smile tugging at his lips. Somehow, this strange friendship might be the only thing that made sense today.

Markowski took his seat and buckled in before pulling his data pad back out. The screen still showed her VID and photo. He smiled and tapped it, typing out a message. “Good luck on your practical! Talk after?”

“. . .
Back atcha. And you better buckle up for some of the places I’m gonna show you later!”