The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.
Proverbs 16:9
Call to Arms
In a cramped Martian hab-unit on the outskirts of Nopylen colony, Wade Winston Kovacs, a scrawny 15-year-old with wide blue eyes, hunches over a holographic projector. Sunlight filters weakly through the dust-streaked window, casting long shadows across the room. Wade dialed up the news feeds he had watched fifty times in the last week displaying brutal interstellar battles.
The holographic projection crackled with electric whine as Wade leaned closer, mesmerized by the scene flickering to life mere inches from his face. This latest model incorporated cutting-edge sensory tech, bringing the battle to life with startling realism. Micro air jets simulated explosive shockwaves, while olfactory modules released the acrid scent of scorched metal. Targeted infrared emitters even replicated the searing heat of plasma bursts, making Wade flinch instinctively.
The video revealed streaks of scorching plasma lanced across the battered hull of the Colonial battlecruiser Intrepid, leaving trails of molten scars. The ship’s shields pulsed with a fierce orange glow, strained to the limit as they repelled the relentless assault. Shockwaves rippled outward in concentric rings with each deafening impact, the overwhelming roar seeming to buffet Wade’s slender frame.
He could taste the acrid tang of burnt metal as sleek, emerald-hued Skravak missiles screamed towards their target, carving a deadly path through the inky blackness. The first volley slammed into the Intrepid’s flank with a blinding detonation that momentarily whited out the image.
When Wade’s vision cleared, his eyes widened in horror. Six gaping holes marred the side of the massive ship, spewing plumes of superheated atmosphere and debris. Tiny figures, men and machines alike, were ejected into the void like shrapnel in the blink of an eye.
The merciless barrage showed no signs of letting up. Fresh waves of missiles converged on the crippled warship from all directions. Blinding beams of plasma seared across Wade’s retinas as the Intrepid’s reactor overloaded in a single, earth-shattering explosion.
The blast wave surged outward with ferocious violence, whipping Wade’s hair back even through the projector’s shimmering static. All that remained in the endless void was a dissipating cloud of gas and twisted metal debris tumbling into oblivion.
Wade inhaled a ragged gasp as the projector sputtered and switched to the next scene with a burst of static. His senses were instantly bombarded by a cacophony of whipcrack concussions of superheated plasma bolts and electrifying buzz from static discharges ricocheting and whizzing past the shaky camera lens.
An armored Marine regular, his face obscured by an amber-tinted visor, charged through a war-torn cityscape on Epsilon Eridani IV. Flames licked at the gutted remains of towering ferrocrete buildings, their skeletons leaning precariously at sharp angles amidst swirling black smoke and dust. Snatches of pale sunlight pierced through the devastation, filtering in like bloody blades.
Up ahead, two crumpled Marine bodies lay motionless on the ground, one a horrifying mass of shredded flesh with legs mangled beyond recognition. The Marine pushed the corpses aside with a sickening thud, his armored bulk surging forward with surprising agility.
That’s when it emerged from the rubble – a terrifying, skeletal figure with crimson eyes devoid of pupils. Its wiry, insectoid limbs propelled it forward with an unsettling, almost liquid-like gait.
A Skravak warrior. Its gaping maw displayed a disturbing array of razor-sharp teeth. Jagged bony ridges and calcified horns framed this rictus grin of pure malice as it launched itself at the camera with terrifying speed, a frenzy of hooked talons flashing in the dim light.
Wade flinched as the Marine unloaded his plasma rifle directly into the onrushing horror. Scorched flesh seared from the Skravak’s exoskeleton in blackened chunks, yet it seemed impervious to the onslaught, driven forward by a monstrous determination. The closer it came, the more the Marine’s shots were hitting their mark.
Then, with a sickening crunch, the skeletal monstrosity collapsed to the street. It’s forward momentum left a black trail of blood streaked on the pavement. As the creature collided with the Marine, obscuring the camera view in a swirling storm of appendages and gnashing teeth, Wade recoiled. For several seconds there was an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the soft hiss of static dancing across the obscured camera which lay completely dark. Then, to Wade’s great amazement and relief, the Marine unburied himself from the lifeless alien and stood to his feet.
Slumping back, Wade gulped desperately for air, the stale air of the colony hab-unit burning in his lungs. The Skravak’s horrifying visage remained etched in his mind – a chilling reminder of the alien menace lurking beyond humanity’s fragile grasp.
Finally, the victor’s image flickered into view – Wade caught a glimpse of the insignia on the Marine’s armor. A blue and green shield crossed by a red lightning bolt with a white sun and star in opposite quadrants. This was no Marine Regular. This trooper was a legendary Deep Space Ranger. Wade felt a spark ignite within him as he locked eyes with the emblem. Every hardship and sacrifice endured by the Rangers became a tangible legacy, a lineage connecting with his soul.
Obsession’s Grip
The emblem seemed to thrum with a faint, golden light, casting an ember-like glow on Wade’s features. In that moment, a burning resolve crystallized within him. He wouldn’t be a passive observer, cowering in the shadows while humanity fought for its survival on some dusty Martian colony. This was his calling, his chance to join the ranks of those who carved humanity’s destiny among the stars, no matter the cost.
Watching the news feeds this time didn’t elicit fear, but a cold defiance that hardened in his gut. Humanity wouldn’t be cowed into extinction. Not while he and others like him stood ready to fight alongside the Rangers, the elite vanguard leading the charge against the horrors that lurked in the vast expanse of space.
Fists clenched, his newfound purpose surged through him like a white-hot fire. He would achieve the impossible. He would become one of those legendary, deathless guardians, or die trying.
Over the next few months, Wade became consumed by the lore and tactics of the Deep Space Rangers. His cramped quarters morphed into a shrine dedicated to their operations. Every square inch was plastered with tactical diagrams, alien creature profiles, reconnaissance photos, and historical reports. He haunted the colony’s data archives with an obsessive fervor, downloading and cross-referencing terabytes of intel on Ranger deployments until his personal terminal strained under the sheer volume of information. This virtual world of battle reports and declassified missions became his lifeblood.
He devoured details of the Rangers’ initiation gauntlet – a grueling 9-month training program that separated the elite few from the countless washouts and broken souls who dared to try. From enduring vacuum exposure tests to mastering zero-gravity combat and boarding actions, Wade absorbed every detail of the excruciating phases into his memory.
The Ranger Heritage
The Deep Space Rangers were the ultimate warriors, their roles encompassing the full spectrum of interstellar operations. They were the wardens of the infinite blackness, venturing far beyond humanity’s farthest outposts to confront unknown threats. While Marine Regulars defended established colonies, the Rangers undertook the most perilous reconnaissance missions and daring raids, striking directly into the heart of hostile alien territories.
All special operations units had long since vanished with the Military Consolidation Act of 2362. The military forces of the Interstellar Sovereign Confederation underwent significant restructuring to enhance efficiency and adapt to interstellar warfare. Inspired by the United States military, key changes included integrating naval, air, and space forces into a unified Interstellar Navy and replacing the Army with an expanded Interstellar Marine Corps. All special operations units from the 22nd century like the Navy SEALs, Delta Force, Green Berets, SAS, Spetsnaz, Sayeret Matkal, and Airborne Rangers were consumed into one elite fighting force called the Deep Space Rangers under command and control of the Marine Corps.
The newly formed Deep Space Ranger Regiments inherited their name through a rich lineage steeped in exploration and frontier defense. The term “Ranger” itself boasts a diverse etymology, tracing its roots back to the Old French word “ranger,” signifying “to arrange or set in order.” Initially, Rangers were individuals tasked with maintaining order and managing vast swathes of land.
In England, Rangers patrolled the royal forests, safeguarding wildlife and ensuring the health of game populations. Their expertise honed their skills in tracking and hunting, vital for survival in the wild. Similarly, Scottish Rangers upheld law and order in rural regions, fostering peaceful communities amidst the untamed wilderness. Across the Atlantic, European colonists in North America adopted the term for skilled woodsmen who navigated the treacherous landscapes, protecting fledgling settlements from the dangers of the frontier.
This tradition of wilderness expertise continued from the 18th to the 22nd centuries, with groups like Rogers’ Rangers, Mosby’s Rangers, various Ranger Battalions during World War II, Ranger Companies during Korea and Vietnam, and the 75th Ranger Regiment employing similar tactics of reconnaissance, raiding, and survival in unforgiving environments. Now these elite Marines were the ultimate hybrid of spartan like warrior, scientist, and pioneer. The Rangers of the Interstellar Sovereign Confederation, tasked with safeguarding the frontiers of human civilization amongst the stars, carry this legacy with pride.
A Father’s Lament
Wade knew simply memorizing data wouldn’t secure his place among these legendary beings. Over the following weeks, he pushed his body and mind to their absolute limits with a borderline-psychotic training regimen.
Pre-dawn calisthenics and parkour drills became a daily ritual, his lanky frame slowly hardening with muscle. He pounded the ochre dunes ten kilometers beyond the Nopylen perimeter every evening, a desperate attempt to condition his lungs to the thin Martian air that left him dizzy and nauseated.
No sacrifice felt too extravagant. His entire being became dedicated to forging himself into the perfect instrument of Ranger capability. He devoured advanced courses in astrophysics, Skrav-linguistics, advanced first aid, and cryptanalysis – anything that could give him an edge. Sleep became a luxury he could ill-afford, his mind and body a crucible fueled by unwavering determination. Even meals were meticulously optimized for maximum efficiency, every bite a calculated step towards his singular goal.
His unwavering dedication wasn’t lost on his only remaining family – his father, Samuel. A former Colonial Marine Regular, Samuel had lost his leg and a part of himself fighting the Skravaks decades ago. The bitterness of those battles had calcified his spirit, leaving him deeply cynical towards military service.
One evening, as Wade prepped protein shakes between grueling workout sets, Samuel slammed his fist on the counter with a shocking crash. He eyed his son with anger and locked onto his son’s determined face etched with the marks of intense training.
“Don’t do this to yourself, son,” Samuel rasped, his voice rough with unspoken emotions. “This path… it’ll break you. It’ll turn you into a cold, empty shell. Is that what you want?”
Wade remained focused, his jaw set with unwavering resolve. He knew arguing with his father’s hardened cynicism was pointless.
“The Skravaks took your leg and almost everything else, Dad. I won’t let them steal humanity’s future among the stars. This is my choice.”
A long silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft whirring of Samuel’s cybernetic leg as its servos strained under the weight of his unspoken emotions. Finally, Samuel turned away, his shoulders slumped in defeat, and trudged back to his workbench with a resigned sigh.
“Just… be careful, son,” his voice came back, quieter this time, laced with a hint of paternal fear. “Those eyes… they hold a bottomless pit of malice. Don’t get lost staring into the abyss.”
Wade understood the cryptic warning. He knew the toll this life could take, the chilling numbness that could creep in over time, hardening a soldier’s heart against the horrors witnessed on countless battlefields. But for now, the prospect of joining the Rangers, of becoming a beacon of hope in humanity’s darkest hour, burned too brightly to be extinguished. Wade was young and idealistic. He would soon find that there was a kernel of truth in his dad’s harshness.
Unfolding Resolve
Finally, two weeks after his 17th birthday, the day came that Wade had been desperately seeking. The Deep Space Ranger recruitment shuttle touched down in the fading sunlight of Nopylen. A sharp series of bullhorn calls echoed through the streets, drawing a crowd of hopefuls to the landing pads. Wade was the first to shove his way to the front of the line, application data-slate clenched tightly in one hand, while his other fiddled nervously with the recruitment token. A look of intense, blazing determination burned behind Wade’s clear blue eyes as the stern-faced officer evaluators emerged from the armored shuttle craft and descended down its lowered ramp.
As the knot of recruits bunched closer together, the imposing figure of Lieutenant Darris Venn stepped forward, his tan Rangers’ beret cocked at a severe angle. Venn’s craggy features seemed even more intimidating thanks to the cybernetic implants surrounding his left eye.
The veteran officer slowly paced in front of the assembled young would-be Rangers, his gaze sweeping over them with blatant disdain. When his cybernetic eye fixed upon Wade at the front and his other eye awkwardly panned the crowd, the lieutenant paused, almost seeming to sneer. He snatched Wade’s data-slate from his hand and started to read.
“Well, well…Mister Kovacs,” Venn growled in a deep baritone accent. “According to your file, you’re just 17 years old, kid. I feel I’d be remiss if I didn’t remind you of just how soul-crushingly demanding the path to becoming a Ranger truly is. More than 80% of recruits wash out before they even reach the dropship insertion course, let alone Ranger training. And those are just the first steps.”
Wade swallowed hard but kept his chin raised, meeting Venn’s intense stare. “I understand the challenges I’ll face, sir. But I am ready – physically, mentally, and in every other way that matters. Becoming a Deep Space Ranger has been my calling, my sole purpose, for years now. All I ask is a chance to prove myself worthy.”
Venn’s cybernetic eye flashed as its scanner traced over Wade’s data readouts.
“Well, just as I thought – you’re a high school dropout. Right there, that’s already a major strike against you, son.”
Wade tensed but kept his voice measured and respectful.
“With all due respect, Lieutenant, my skills and areas of personal study go far beyond the standard academic curriculum. I’ve dedicated countless hours to astrophysics, Skravak-bio, survival and combat tactics – every field a prospective Ranger needs to master. My aptitude scores are off the charts. I can easily test out of any academic admission requirements.”
Venn’s craggy features twisted into an expression of profound skepticism.
“It’s not just about book smarts, maggot. We need disciplined, hard-baked marines who can follow orders, maintain attention to detail, and operate by the book to the highest standards in the most extreme conditions for weeks, even months at a time. The Rangers aren’t some school for dilettante thrill-seekers looking for kicks. You think way too highly of yourself boy!”
Wade’s jaw clenched, but before he could respond, Venn had already turned to move on down the line, his gravelly voice projecting out dismissively.
“Just another bright-eyed kid out for some glory and adventure. Thinks he’s got what it takes by watching a few training vids and–”
“Sir!”
The single barked word exploded out of Wade’s chest with enough intensity to cut Venn off mid-sentence. The lieutenant spun around, his implant flashing as every head in the grouped recruits snapped towards the source of the sudden outburst in shock. Wade could see the officer’s jaw tighten in anger at the interruption, but he had to make his case.
“I’ve been preparing myself, body, soul, and mind for the last two years specifically for this chance to join the fight. You have my files, my scores, my accomplishments. I’m ready to prove my worth.”
For a long moment, Venn simply stared at Wade, as if weighing every fiber of the young man’s being. Finally, he gave the slightest nod.
“Very well, recruit. You’ll get your chance to prove yourself worthy of joining our ranks. But I promise you here and now, there is no place among the Deep Space Rangers for a man who can’t hack it.”
Wade matched Venn’s intense gaze, his voice firmly resolute.
“Then I will be that man, sir. I cannot fail.”
The lieutenant held the stare for a few more seconds before turning sharply and barking over his shoulder.
“Move your carcass to that sergeant on the ramp and report for intake protocol, Kovacs! You ship out at O5 hundred tomorrow, and from this moment your hide belongs to the Corps. We’ll see if you have what it takes, or if you just end up another washout.”
As Venn stormed off, Wade felt his heart pounding with anticipation. He ran at a double-time and handed his recruitment token to the sergeant. He had made it past the first crucible. Now the real challenges would begin. But he was determined to confront any trial, any hardship, to join the elite ranks of the Deep Space Rangers. For Wade, there was no other path – his destiny awaited among the stars, destroying an advancing enemy.
Failure was not an option.
ToBeLikeJesus 