3 Colonel Goodman

When Riley entered the briefing room, it was almost filled. Roughly 30 people aged 17 to 25, clad in protective gear like him, were standing around and chatting quietly. There was a nervous but excited energy in the room.

After several minutes, Mr. M, Head of the Department, came to the small platform at the front of the room. He gave a short speech, taking not so subtle jabs at the full-timers, and encouraged everyone to do well for their exam. After that, he introduced one of the guest judges, Colonel Goodman.

A tall man in combat fatigue walked into the room. The room grew very quiet. There was no one in this room who didn't recognize Colonel Goodman. In fact, there's probably no adult in Arcology-1 who hadn't heard of this living legend.

Sixty-five years ago, the First Great Breach occurred. Several Behemoths led a large horde of mutated creatures and simultaneously breached Arcology-1's defense wall in several places. It was an unprecedented event that caught everyone by surprise. Noah, the governing A.I. was still in its infancy and was completely inexperienced in dealing with an incident of such magnitude. The defense force was in chaos and everyone was in a panic.

After his commanding officer was killed, the 20-year-old then-Corporal Goodman took command of his unit. He organized the defense, led his squad to secure strategic locations and halt the advance of the mutated creatures. Along the way, he rallied the fleeing soldiers and citizens, inspiring them to join him and push back.

Corporal Goodman did more than his fair share of fighting himself. He single-handedly killed a Behemoth, finishing it off with his combat knife when he ran out of ammo. The footage was captured by security cameras and was still watched with reverence until this very day.

When the crisis was over, Corporal Goodman he was awarded over a dozen medals and immediately promoted to Colonel. Over the next few decades, he was in charge of organizing defenses and coordinating raids into monster-infested territories to reduce their numbers. He had plenty of other impressive achievements, but nothing as well-remembered as his heroics during the First Great Breach. He was honorably discharged 10 years ago and had been working as combat consultant and trainer for various academies and agencies.

Now, at 85 years old, Colonel Goodman didn't look a day older than 50. He had an awkward gait of someone who was used to wearing heavy exo-armor all his life. His gestures were measured and precise as if he was afraid he would accidentally knock someone's head off, which Riley highly suspected might have actually happened at some point. He looked like someone who was out of place in this time of peace and unable to fit in.

Mr. Goodman's face was lean and sharp, with a large scar running from his left temple across his left eye and his nose and stopped at his right cheek. In place of his ruined left eye was an older model cybernetic eye. He has several grenades clipped on his belt. On one hip he carries a very large pistol - the Predator V2 autoloader. On the other, a combat knife similar to the one that ended the life of a Behemoth 65 years ago.

He stopped, stance wide. Thirty examinees watched raptly as he appraised them. Without an introduction, he spoke.

"We are at war, ladies, and gentlemen. Respect that fact every time you take a breath."

He raised his hand and gestured all around them.

"Out beyond that wall every living thing that stalks, crawls or slithers wants nothing more than to get in here and kill every single one of you.

"You think you're safe in here and it is only dangerous out there. You are wrong. You're not safe. You're just hiding under a blanket hoping the ghosts will go away. Guess what, they're here to stay."

"… What you've learned here isn't just how to shoot a gun or wield a knife. What you've learned is a way of life, a mental stance, and a code of discipline that will follow you for the rest of your life."

"However long it is." He added with a chuckle, and a few nervous chuckles followed.

"I'm serious. You won't survive. Not all of you."

"But be aware that whatever you do will affect more than just you. You're responsible for more than just your own well being. Your pet, your girlfriend, boyfriend, your parents. The whole city, you're responsible for it. That is the life you lead now…"

"… I see you've got something better to do than listening to this old man's ramblings!"

Mr. Goodman's voice sounded right next to him, startling Riley. Did he just doze off while standing? Sh*t, he was sleepier than he thought. Damn it!

"… But just humor me, okay? I'm almost done. Here, let me help." Mr. Goodman said with a wink.

He unclipped a fragmentation grenade from his belt and pulled the pin, prompting a collective gasp from everyone. He handed the grenade to Riley, who frantically clasped his hands around the handle. The crash-coursers around him cringed and tried to inch themselves as far away from him as possible, but there wasn't much room to move.

"Now please try to stay awake. Otherwise, it'll hurt quite a bit." Mr. Goodman said, then turned back to address the class.

Mr. Goodman continued his speech, but his words slipped right by Riley's ears. His mind was occupied with the live grenade in his hands. He felt himself sweating bullets, not just from the heat, the fear, but also from the hostile gazes around him.

"… Those of you who need to, get your gear at the Requisition Office. Gear up and gather at the parking lot. We move out at 10:00 sharp!" Announced Mr. Goodman, concluding his speech.

He turned to Riley and held out his hand. Riley handed back the grenade to him. Mr. Goodman casually tossed the grenade to the trash bin at the room's corner. Everyone flinched, several cried out in alarm, but nothing went off. It was just a dummy grenade. Everyone let out a relieved chuckle. Several of them playfully patted Riley's shoulders and laughed at him.

"What are you waiting for? Move!" Shouted Mr. Goodman, and everyone bolted for the door.

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"Riley Romero. Requisition Form #RF-34518" When it was his turn, Riley stepped up and spoke into the microphone.

He was in the Requisition Office. For the final exam, each person was allocated a budget of 2000 RP to trade for equipment. Of course, they could bring their own gear to make the mission safer. It was, in fact, encouraged, as 2000 RP was barely enough for a used pistol. Riley himself brought his own protective gear, VEG, baton, and pistol. However, one had to avoid bringing too much heavy equipment. It would make the mission too easy, and it would reflect upon their assessment.

There were plenty of tricks to balance the quality of the loadout and the budget. One of them was to use RP not to buy but to *borrow* equipment. One can only keep the borrowed stuff for one day, after that it would lock up, but the fee was only a fraction of the selling price.

Riley had spent days agonizing over his choices. The exam was supposed to be a team endeavor, so he and his teammates split up the needed equipment between them.

"Requisition Form #RF-34518 coming up!" Announced an automated voice. The window on his right opened and a heavy-duty case slid out. Riley carried the case away from the queue, opened it and verified the content. Satisfied, he carried the case to the locker room.

He opened the case, pulled out its contents one by one and examined it.

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> R4-CAR

> Category: Firearm - Carbine. Legality: Legal (standby)

> Capacity: 40+1. Ammo: 5.56 mm

> Weight: 4.5 kg.

> Muzzle velocity: 1200m/s

> Description: … [more]

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The R4 was one of the oldest assault rifles in circulation. A versatile weapon with good accuracy and reliability designed for urban combat, it was a staple of law-enforcement several decades ago. It had since been phased out of service in favor of newer and fancier weapons, so it had mostly been used as entry-level weapons for training. All in all, it was a good enough weapon for the low fee of 400 RP, plus 120 RP for 8 magazines.

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> Fauci-67

> Category: Ordnance - Grenade Launcher. Legality: Legal (standby)

> Capacity: 3+1. Ammo: 35mm grenade

> Weight: 4.5 kg.

> Muzzle velocity: 400m/s

> Description: … [more]

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The Fauci-67 was a cheap and reliable pump-action grenade launcher chambered for the standard 35mm grenade. With a tube magazine, it could hold 3 rounds plus 1 round in the chamber. Riley picked it for 300 RP.

Next is the ammunition for his weapon, which had to be bought, not borrowed, although the excess could be returned later for a refund. Riley bought 2000 Flechette and 1000 JHP (Jacketed Hollow Point) rounds for his assault rifle. For the grenade launcher, he bought 20 WP (White Phosphorous) rounds, 5 HE (High Explosive) rounds and 5 Disruptor rounds. He also bought 500 FMJ (Full Metal Jacket) rounds for his pistol.

The expenses added up to 1927 RP. Riley spent the rest on to borrow a set of load-bearing equipment (LBE), including shoulder packs, hip packs, holsters, magazine pouches, and some miscellaneous stuff.

He put on the LBE, loaded all the magazines and put them in the correct pouches. He did a final check on his weapon. Satisfied that everything was in place, he left to return the case to the Requisition Office.

"Sh*t!" Riley cursed as he left the Requisition Office. He left his helmet in the locker room! Hurrying back, he let out a sigh of relief to find it still there, next to his locker. He put it on.

"The lack of sleep was getting to me! I gotta do something about it soon." Though Riley as he moved to the parking lot.

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