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squadron, which was led by a sub meridian or a meridian. Three or four squadrons made a battalion, usually led by a meridian or sometimes a head meridian. Altogether, the initiates in basic training had made up a battalion when they began, but now, just three weeks into it, she guessed there couldn’t be more than two squadrons left, tops.
    Once they finished their training, they would be assigned to one of the brigades, which were self-contained fighting units holding their particular sectors along with air or, in the far eastern sectors, sea support. Brigades were commanded by a sub strategos. And then there were the battle groups, which included at least two Janissary brigades, and commanded their own air and sea support. The battle group was commanded by a strategos, the highest rank found in the Janissaries, except for the First Janissary.
    She had wondered at first, whether she would be able to try out for Air or Sea Service, but quickly learned that these units were made up of pure Moon people only, and all their training was kept separate from the Janissaries. Air and Sea only submitted to Janissary command when part of a battle group, which meant that even the lowest airman never took orders from Janissaries below the rank of strategos. She found that curious, but after what happened to one of the initiates who asked too many questions, she had learned to keep her mouth shut. Albert she thought his name was, from Holstonhead. One day, he was gone, washed out, she heard someone say. Another said she heard one of the officers talking about this kid from Holstonhead, who was transferred to the Corpus. From that moment on, she made it a point not to get singled out, and so far so good.
    She had found, in the few spare moments between rigorous training sessions meant to harden them physically and mentally, that she was forming bonds with her teammates. None of her friends from Charlestown were on her team. She had seen Laurie once, while she was standing in line for breakfast, and he had seemed sullen and depressed. When she asked him, he told her of his sister, who had died in combat just a few weeks before their arrival. Sue knew he had hoped to connect with her, and she worried that the loss might hurt his morale enough to get him kicked out. There was nothing she could do for him, though, since the teams were generally kept separated. Sue hadn’t seen Laurie since, which was almost a week ago. She hoped he’d be able to pull himself together, or else he might end up in the Corpus.
    Still, there was Brad from Morrow, Keisha from Fort Winter, just southwest of here, and Julian from Bunkerville. All friends, growing tighter with every trial they faced together.
    On the opposite end, there was Quinn, a volunteer from Hodgeton who seemed to find great joy in the fact that Keisha struggled with keeping up from time to time. Also, she had learned that Julian had difficulty reading, and Quinn seemed to enjoy taunting him for it, telling him how difficult a time he would face, once they moved on to weapons training, and how much they were required to read in order to make it through.
    Still, even with the hardships, and despite scumbags such as Quinn, Sue found herself becoming part of something, and she was beginning to think that the Janissaries might, in time, become her family, as well.
    ~
    A mannequin stood before the initiates, empty eyes staring straight through them, arms hanging motionless. The black suit covering it from neck to toes was unlike anything Sue had ever seen. It was a Janissary battle dress. Unlike the formal parade uniform she had seen so many times, which was tight-fitting and made of some shiny fabric, this one seemed bulky. It was matte, and the black looked almost gray because of thousands of tiny sensors covering its entire surface. Beside the mannequin lay a visored helmet, with tubes and wires obviously meant to connect it to the suit when worn.
    “Looks impressive, doesn’t it?” Tac