He'd spent most of his time in the regular army of the Prosperitan military, not doing much in the way of adventure or feeling like he was really achieving much. That was what they'd promised him and other boys like him, when they were in their schools. Some fancy slogans like 'Serve your country, your planet and all the planets in the galaxy. Travel vast distances across space and see things you'll never otherwise see in a lifetime!' That was what they were promised but what they got was constant orders being shouted and screamed at them by abusive trainers and corrupt officers. They'd been told it would be fun and honourable, but he found fun and honour conspicuous by their absence! The contrast between the lies they were promised and the harsh reality were quite clear to them all, by now. Such was life for young Tarmon, the lower-class boy with no job prospects and little of a future in the slum districts on the Barren Side of his home world of Kurdos. With such little of a future and all the time being saturated with images of a better life than he'd ever see, it was only natural to want to escape! So many of them had been brought up on boy's adventure stories, that it was assumed they'd be queueing up to join the military or law enforcement agencies. Tarmon saw little hope or desire to join the law agents who, so often tormented his neighbourhood with random raids and/or searches so that was never going to happen. The military didn't have such an ugly reputation and some kids his age thought they were some kind of romantic heroes. Tarmon wasn't so deluded as that, but, like many others, he thought it might be a chance to get out of the poverty trap and, hopefully see some things and some places he could never see without joining the army or the navy or space corps of the vast military of Prosperity.

The defensive arm of the galactic federation, was always keen to show off its vast arsenal of weapons and vehicles, which made many boys marvel and wish they could be involved. The glorious war machine given the major task of defending the government and the forces of law and order, and freedom and democracy on the plethora of worlds and space colonies under Prosperity's rule or protection, loved to flex its muscles but always in as banal and seemingly nice a way as possible. Tarmon was not the kind of boy to believe in too much of the hype, but he had to admit to liking the idea of being able to learn to drive and fly and to fire a weapon. And it very strongly appealed to him to be able to get out of the cycle of poverty and boredom which he seemed destined to endure for the rest of his life.

He had no desire to get himself killed for any rich bastard on Prosperity's Base Worlds or kill civilians or for some krefshit notion of 'glory', he's seen enough actual krefshit on the streets when the farmers were herding kref towards their farms or to the slaughterhouses in town. However, he saw little else available to him to finally get out of this place. This fucking hellhole where nothing happened except misery and starvation and disease and death! No one chose to stay here with all the pollution and social deprivation. So, with all of that considered, Tarmon decided it was the best thing to do to sign his name on the forms and join the military. He'd go for one of the jobs which involved skills and not be one of the mindless killing machines, like those thugs in the red cap wearing Droptroopers. Only deranged people joined that lot! No, he'd learn to do something positive if he was to join such an institution. It might help him later in life and open doors of opportunity for jobs or anything, which would keep him away from gangs and stealing from landlords to survive! Yes, it was always wise to avoid the life of crime, which was way too risky and usually not worth the risks you had to take to get anywhere fruitful with it. So many kids had died trying to get rich quick on the streets of the poor districts on Kurdos and many other worlds like it. Many of his school colleagues whom he knew, one way or another were among those casualties. It hit him hard when one of his friends had become involved in a local gang. He's been tempted by the quick access to money and decided to do a few jobs for the local mobsters. He hadn't reckoned on his lack of importance in their world which would lead him to be the fall guy when things went wrong. He was found dumped in a side street of Tarmon's home town one day. He'd been shot through the head by a rival gang and, it turned out from all the people who knew the local criminals, that he'd been sacrificed to keep the senior gangsters alive. Tarmon was disgusted by this, and decided he'd never lift a finger to help those bastards, and one day, he'd make sure they paid for their treachery! This was the final straw which made him decide there was only one way out of this place...

So, when he'd turned eighteen years of age, after trying to put it off and find some stable employment in flimsy local industries, he decided it was inevitable. If he was going to take risks, it was better to not have the law agents hunting him down for things which were unlawful, so it made more sense to keep those fuckers and every other government agency off his back by joining the more 'respectable' killing machine of the military. The hypocrisy was not lost on him, but he felt like it was his last option left.
He turned up at the recruiting office along with countless others and signed his name away for two solid years of combat training, vehicle maintenance, and education on how to use and maintain various weapons against Prosperity's countless foes. Some of this stuff, he had to admit, he'd enjoyed. Like many boys and young men, he'd always wanted to learn how to fire projectile and plasma guns and to get inside the things to know how they worked. He loved the classes in how to do this and always did well in these subjects. This had led him to be suggested to go on to be trained as a driver and possibly even a pilot. Many soldiers in the vehicle regiments were trained in driving and piloting numerous vehicles of land, air, water and space. It had proved invaluable in old wars against the Providencian Empire and the Peace Federation. So it had become more common and almost standard to train their soldiers to use many vehicles and survive better in extreme circumstances. Tarmon, had been a natural, and went through this training with a similar success as the basics with guns, bombs and blades.

When they came to assign him to the vehicle regiment attachment as a trainee, he looked forward to getting a job doing something constructive and which required him to use his mind. He sometimes dreamed of being able to end wars and keep people safe. He knew that, in reality, that wasn't possible, or at least not by him alone, but it was a nice idea, all the same. He hoped he could make a positive difference, anyway, among all the shit and violence he'd heard about. They'd all been told of the obscenely high crime rate and perpetual war and banditry in Prosperity's infamous 'Problem Zones' and the rogue space colonies which refused to be civilised by Prosperity's influence. He hoped, despite his inner doubts, that he could do some good in his military career while it lasted.
He'd always wanted to drive or fly vehicles rescuing soldiers and civilians from certain-death situations. That would be nice. At least, then he could justify his joining up in the first place and not have to be like the thuggish fuckers in the so-called elite forces like the Droptroopers and the Special Commandos. They were comparable to the Peace Federation's now notorious White Legion, in terms of ferocity and a thirst for battle. They got romaticised too much, but he'd met them before and they were not his kind of guys, he knew that for sure! His old friend and army colleague, Timko had been set upon by some Droptroopers one night an a bar, and ended up in hospital for it. And, to add insult to injury, it had been Timko who was made to look like the bad guy! This made him sick, and he always had a somewhat cold attitude towards that lot, most of the time. Another colleague of theirs, Doni, had been with them on a combat mission once or twice, too, and had often been given assignments with both Droptroopers and Special Commandos and he'd always said they were far too eager to do their jobs and theirs were some of the dirtiest jobs which Prosperity preferred to pretend didn't exist.

The training for piloting and driving went pretty well for Tarmon. He was a natural when it came to controlling machines like this. He flew through exams and quickly became a more than competent pilot and driver. His friends Timko and Doni did fairly well, too, though Tarmon shone in particular. They all hoped they'd be posted together and as pilots or drivers, and avoid having to be up to their knees in mud and shit and blood in the middle of a battle zone. That was the kind of insanity that volunteers for the Droptroops and Special Commandos seemed to glory in. Tarmon and his pals were more interested in staying relatively clean if that was at all possible in Prosperity's war machine!
The day finally came for them to qualify. All of them passed without many problems and soon were deployed to vehicular units patrolling space colonies and Problem Zones. The Problem Zones were always scary places and it always came with some relief when Tarmon could get back to relative safety in the fortified base where he was stationed or the space station orbiting the place. His pals Timko and Doni were usually nearby and always managed to have fun in available bars when they all had free time to party. And being in such risky places always made them appreciate every minute of party time! Drunken antics usually followed by arrests or, at the very least, hangovers and often memory loss, were regular occurrences when the free time came. However, they all tried to avoid the kind of drunken antics which were becoming more well known among military personal if not the public at large. It was common in many regiments, and not just the obvious ones, but the Droptroopers were always the most common offenders. All the time, there were stories of rapes and beatings of local women and young girls, and extreme violence against men and boys by them, but it was always avoided in conversation. Their own crowd were not innocent either, to be fair, but at least there were enough good people among their own crowd who were sufficiently non-triumphal about the military's disgraceful behaviour.

Tarmon tried not to think too much about this, and his two friends agreed with this approach. They drove their reconnaissance vehicles into zones or dispatched foot soldiers, drones, or when the order came, the infamous Droptroopers into the places where they'd been ordered to go to. Usually there were two of them or sometimes all three in one vehicle, all working in turns as driver/pilot, co-driver/co-pilot and machine operator. They always worked well as a team, so they were often allowed out together for missions. Time after time, mission after mission, they held together and they pulled through. Their troop-leaders and section-leader came to respect them, despite one or two of the troop-leaders being unfair to them, for reasons largely lost on the three friends. They could only assume that such a natural friendship among enlisted soldiers was not common and perhaps an element of envy from the other, more naturally violent soldiers was the reason for this. Whatever, their reasons, it meant little to Tarmon and his two buddies. He knew they had his back and he had theirs, too. Anyone else who had a problem would be a colleague in name only! Nothing more. These three would pull through until they'd done their military time and carry on looking out for each other when they all left. Tarmon hoped and genuinely felt that he and his two pals wouldn't get themselves killed. There were risky places they were assigned to, but as long as you didn't want to be some kind of a hero or get as many medals as possible or something equally as stupid, then you'd probably be okay and end your service in one piece, and relatively scratch-free.
Though it had to be admitted that there were plenty of attacks from bandits and raids of various resources from Prosperity's vast array of colonies. Everyone knew of the fearsome reputations of what were commonly known as 'Problem Zones'. Those places where the people didn't appreciate Prosperity's presence at all, to say the least. Some in particular had acquired particular notoriety. Space colonies such as Saedar 7, so aptly named after the ancient god of pain in old civilisations back on Duhún. Then there was the prison world of Saedar 3 and mining colonies such as Kerno and Skjir's World. The names of all of these stations, colonies and worlds were usually mentioned with a shudder.
Tarmon, Timko and Doni decided to avoid volunteering for dangerous missions to them, unless unavoidable. They spent most of their days doing routine things and generally getting bored with such menial tasks and found their sanity saved by the socialising and fun times to be had at the bar or the recreational facilities. They made the most of the time they had because they knew they'd be called upon to go somewhere really dangerous sooner or later. For the first six months or so they'd been limited to routine patrols or escorting government officials from one relatively safe place to another, but most troopers in the umbrella organisation of the Prosperitan military ended up on some danger mission at least once in their military careers. They only hoped it wouldn't be too bad when their time came and it would be something they'd manage to get through together without too much of a problem. They'd had some missions of patrolling some space stations when there had been reports of bandit raids or sightings of unidentified objects which might have possibly posed a threat. And there were the brief trips to orbit mining colonies which didn't usually suffer from too much strife but still needed to be guarded in case raiders or the notorious Hruk-NaGaa decided to pay them a visit. The closest they'd come to real danger was seeing the occasional weapons malfunction or seeing some civilians getting angry over official policies regarding things like food rations and other such things, but nothing too severe. There would be the occasional alarm of space debris or meteors floating dangerously close, too, but never anything they couldn't handle easily enough.

After several weeks of utter boredom, the day came when they were informed of their orders to set off for duties on one of the worst of the Problems Zones. The prison planet known as Saedar 3 was to be their next assignment. The news was met by the three friends with a mixture of nervousness and a sense of relief at being released from the boredom of things as they currently were.

The few days before deployment, they partied and enjoyed themselves. This was what you did when you know that there's a chance of you not coming back alive or in once piece. The bars and nightclubs were used heavily in these few days. Their incomes could probably have survived on the huge spendings of soldiers such as Tarmon, Doni and Timko at times like this. The three of them got wildly drunk, ended up in places they never knew the existence of and in various states of wear from hangovers to cuts and bruises. Luckily, however, they never got injured seriously enough to get themselves into trouble with commanders for reckless behviour.
Tarmon felt a mixture of excitement at doing something bigger after all the training and routine missions he'd been getting, and of severe nervousness. As the hour to finally leave grew closer, the gritty realisation of where he was going and what he might have to see and do, started to really sink in, and such feelings always resulted in a feeling of dread, to most soldiers, to a greater or lesser extent.
Finally, the morning came. Tarmon had slept but not as much as he'd have liked. No one really feels sufficiently rested when waking up for such a big life event! He crawled out of his standard issue bunk and prepared himself for the communal breakfast of his section. There was a mixture of moods among his colleagues. Some seemed like they were going on holiday and didn't seem to realise that they were going into what was increasingly becoming a war zone. Others, were more sombre in appearance, though they mostly tried to look positive. Tarmon and his two friends Timko and Doni, tried to put on a brave a face as they could, but they all felt a little uneasy, despite looking forward to getting out of this tedious training station where they'd been returned to, even after they'd finished all of their training and gone on several missions (Prosperity was always keen to avoid spending money on sending soldiers to places without good reason!) As they checked and double checked their equipments and the vehicles they'd be assigned to, they watched in awe as their transportation crafts were lifted onto the huge carrier ships. For transport out to such dangerous places as where they were now going, the biggest and most intimidating ships had to be used both to subdue the locals and to transport such large numbers of security services. None of the three friends had seen these vessels so close before, and they were awestruck by the sheer size of them! The armoured vehicles which made many soldiers look like small rodents when standing next to them, suddenly looked like children's toys being picked up by giant hands and placed effortlessly into their respective toy boxes. These enormous ships would be what they'd be travelling to their destinations in. Their size made them an easy target for pirates and raiders, so they were to be accompanied by a small escort fleet of destroyers and pursuit ships. Accompanying the pursuit ships were to be, as always, squads of small, single-seater Starfighter ships which would be fast enough to intercept any potentially hostile vessel which might approach. The hardware of the Prosperitan military was always an impressive sight to behold. Despite their ambivalent feelings of this whole institution and the politicians and business houses who ran the show, they couldn't help but feel a certain awe and even pride at having such machines on the same side as themselves. Like having a huge monster which would terrify you normally, all being there to watch over and protect you.
The light came on and the speaker announced, 'Green company, 54th Section! Board ship!' It was their turn to get themselves onto the giant ship.They all looked at each other one last time and patted each other on the back before they made their way forward, along with the rest of their section. As they walked to the metal beast in front of them, they all thought of home and how much they missed it, despite all the years of wanting to get away from there. Funny how that happens, thought Tarmon to himself. They boarded the ship and strapped themselves into their seat. They were all sat close together, so that was one good thing. All watching out for each other as they made their first big outing into the unknown.
The engines started. Here we go, thought Tarmon. We're actually doing this! And, as this passed through his mind, he could sense the same thoughts among everyone around him. The looks on everyone's faces said it all. As they rose out of the atmosphere, the artificial gravity set in and they went from feeling light and increasingly weightless to suddenly back to their natural weight. Some of the newer recruits, who'd only finished training very recently, jolted or reacted in a startled way. It was one of the many strange things that the less experienced space traveller often noticed on their first few voyages offworld. They all started to settle down again for a while until the warp engines went into action. This always made people feel weird! Some feel ill, others feel a rush of excitement, some pass out with the sudden jolts and feelings of being pulled in different directions. This was the general reaction of the soldiers around them, especially the young batch. Eventually, they were all calm again and went on their way to an uncharted experience. One from which many of them might never return, but Tarmon preferred to not think of that. He decided to sit and think of positive things while they all relaxed. While they all could relax!
This would be the end of their youth and the beginning of their new lives. Tarmon drifted off into his own thoughts as the ship went on through space.

To be continued...