Recombinant Bridgehead

Training

From the faint bird songs rising from the canopies to the thanator roars issuing from the dark caves, the sound of Pandora's waking yawn was an orchestra like no other. Within the dead city of Bridgehead, there was no sound to distinguish the time of day with its untiring machinery forever at work. A sole marching chant echoing from the edge of the plantation was all that indicated it was early morning.

"Hey there, Jake, you heard the news?"
"Bridgehead's got the Deja Blus."
"Taste our lead, and kiss our boots."
"Our recom team will tread on you."

They were going to need months of training to build up their weak muscle tone, and no one understood physical discipline better than Miles S. Quaritch. Despite his own body aching, he ran backwards down the line to berate the pathetic excuses that weren't keeping up. He took one look at Alexander and blew a whistle right in his ear. "What are you slouching for, soldier? Trying to show off your ass?"

"Do you like it, sir?" he grumbled, readjusting his rucksack.

"It's adorable, Johnny. I might start acting up!"

Alexander hastily straightened out his posture.

Quaritch blew his whistle again. "C'mon, kittens, don't go tripping on those tails of yours!" He looked back and saw CJ was lagging behind. With a disappointed scrunch, he forcibly took some of her extra baggage and threw it on his back. "Know your limits, Casey!"

She could do nothing but swallow her embarrassment and pick up the pace as he returned to the front of their group.

Not a morning went by where their colonel didn't run them into the ground. In the past, he was widely considered a masochist for his high pain tolerance, and in his new flesh suit, he was found to be no different.

Sun assaulting their backs, the recombinants executed their push-ups with their colonel opposite, barking at them to go faster. "Let's see you kiss that ground, Fike!" Quaritch shouted. "Casey, quit speeding through your pushes. You're bobbing like a fishing lure!"

CJ complied, but not without some hushed obscenities.

Fike struggled to keep up the pace as Lyle, who performed next to him, decided to show off using one hand.

"That's it!" Quaritch cheered.

Fike shot Wainfleet a surly side-eye. "Teacher's pet."

The braggart licked his smirking lip. "Let's see you do better, Daisy."

It became a battle between Lyle and Sean as the sweaty men tried to outdo one another, going faster and harder than the rest, with neither noticing their leader, who was showing them all up by performing clap push-ups.

The recombinants were issued new weapons resized from existing models. Bridgehead's industrial-sized 3D printers enabled them to expand their arsenal at an ungodly rate. A lot of strides were made in weapon science, and the state-of-the-art firearms reflected this; the team not only appreciated the evolved power but the sexiness of the designs. Fike and Wainfleet, being the snipers of the group, put their new toys to the test on the firing range by holding a competition. Their targets were black paper cut-outs in the shape of Na'vi. The two knuckleheads were having a blast, obliterating the line-up of forms, until dark horse Sasha Mansk arrived with a Hydra Machine Gun and shredded his victim into confetti. The snipers gaped at Mansk, who simply let out a Russian snort. As for the serfs who were cleaning up the camp, they had watched the whole scene with frightened dismay.

CJ served as an audience to their adorable reindeer games and decided to join in. Whipping out her Wolf pistol, she fired a shot right between the eyes of her cut-out and doled the boys a wink. The men hooted at her unabashedly.