It wasn't long before Magmar developed a substantial
dislike for the bugle. At 4:30 every morning, the instrument blared
its abominable tune to all corners of the facility. Dawn at basic
training turned out to be a mad scramble to get uniforms on and beds
made while making sure every station was in order. Each recruit was
given a specific duty designed to keep the quarters tidy and secure.
Magmar had drawn laundry crew upon arrival, and was allowed
approximately five minutes in the morning to get dressed and haul 20
kilos of linen downstairs. Fortunately for him, he was usually
spared the 'motivational speeches' the rest of the flight had to
endure 20 minutes after getting blasted out of bed by the brass
siren.
Magmar
smirked to himself as he loaded the machines with towels in the safe
haven of the laundry room. He could hear 3rd Sergeant Riven's voice ripping into one of his comrades over an
incorrectly placed tube of toothpaste. Like Mira, Riven was a Junior
Instructor, appointed to assist their flight's main supervisor.
Being second in command didn't soften Riven's attitude, however. He
was generally a bigger dick than their main leader, 2nd Sergeant Dawlot.
Sergeant Dawlot was tall, dark-skinned, muscular, and
highly observant. As he approached the compound with his inspection
tablet in hand, Magmar was very thankful he wasn't part of the
commotion upstairs. He sat down on top of a bag of laundry and began
filling out a few OOPs (Observation of Performance) forms.
New recruits were required to carry a few OOPs forms in
case any official on base witnessed them involved in either
inappropriate or exemplary behavior. Magmar had only given up a
couple of forms so far, and both were for positive observations.
Sergeant Dawlot had witnessed him shining another recruit's boots
while he was at an appointment, and Mira had written a him a nice one
for knowing his entire chain of command. Magmar considered himself
pretty lucky thus far. Most of his comrades had given up a form or
two for bad behavior already. Whoever had misplaced that toothpaste
was likely down one OOPs for the day.
“I'll take one of those.” Said a very deep voice.
Magmar sprang to his feet. Turned out Sergeant Dawlot
hadn't gone upstairs. The supervisor gave Magmar a scrutinizing look
as he slowly took the form. “There ain't no chairs in this room for
a reason, trainee. If you ain't washing, you're drying. If you
ain't drying, you're folding. If you ain't folding, you're sorting.
Now you better keep your ass off that sack of work to be done, or
it'll be another OOPs form.”
Magmar wanted to call 'bullshit', but wisely held his
tongue, giving Sergeant Dawlot a “Yes, sir” instead before
turning to sort the rest of the laundry. Sergeant Dawlot had no
further comment and left to check on his crew upstairs. Magmar
scowled as he fished out a wadded up pair of shorts and fired them
into a machine. It may have only been his first violation, but
surrendering too many negative OOPs forms meant being washed back
another week in training. And if the crimes were bad enough, a
discharge was in your future. Both ideas were highly unappealing.
“Hey there, Magmar... I've come to help you out.”
Vandosu had entered the laundry room, looking slightly disheveled.
“Our PT has been moved to 06:00 so we have an hour to get this
done.”
“Shit. Seriously? I swear it's just Dawlot trying
to punish me for sitting down on the job.” Magmar huffed.
“Yeah, I don't know...” Vandosu mumbled as he
transferred the towels into the dryer. “Oh, and make sure the cap
on your toothpaste is facing the middle of the drawer, because he
will be checking....”
Magmar raised an eyebrow. “Man, Riven's such a tool.
So how many forms have you given up? Dawlot took one from me a few
minutes ago.”
Vandosu sighed. “Just two Oopsies. Both for really
lame reasons. I don't see how improper placement of my toothpaste is
going to affect our evolution, but whatever.”
Magmar laughed as he flung another pair of shorts into
the machine. “Well, I think improper placement of a Spirit Sword
would render a larger punishment than an Oops, but you get the idea.”
“Touché,
Magmar.” Vandosu grinned as he aimed the last of the shorts into
the washing machine. They hit the lid to close it with a
satisfactory bang. “Extra point!”
Laundry duty went much faster between the two of them,
even with a few breaks to tally their score. Vandosu won Laundry
Ball by the smallest of margins. Magmar insisted he only lost after
grabbing a sweatshirt belonging to the biggest guy in their flight
(“There's no way that thing would have fit all the way in!”), but
still admitted defeat.
The two of them gathered up the linen and headed
upstairs, with just enough time to distribute it and get their PT
gear on before 06:00. “Please don't be a cardio day, please don't
be a cardio day...” Magmar crossed his fingers as they slipped into
formation outside. Vandosu stood next to him, crossing his fingers
and hoping for the opposite.
“Attention!” The soldiers immediately assumed
their appropriate positions as Riven's voice rang out over the
flight. “This morning we will be running a full 3k!” Magmar did
his best to hide his disappointment, staring blankly at the flagpole
behind Sergeant Riven. Vandosu held back a smile.
“I want to make this clear. WE will be RUNNING a
FULL 3k. That means all of you!” Riven's eyes surveyed his
flight, coming to rest briefly on some of the heavier guys, including
Magmar. “We're combining with our brother and sister flights for
this one, and I expect we will not be slowing them down! Anyone who
chooses to walk it gets an automatic OOPs form! B-Flight, riighhht
face!”
As the formation turned and proceeded down to the
track, Magmar cursed to himself. True, he'd already lost a some
weight, but asking him to run the full 3k only three weeks into
training seemed rather unreasonable. And losing two OOPs forms in
one day was likely to draw some unwanted attention. Trying not to
panic, he reminded himself that Riven only said they had to run it,
he didn't say they had to meet a certain time. He might be able to
argue the technicality. Shaking his head at his own pathetic theory,
Magmar couldn't convince himself that he'd make it through the
morning without losing another OOPs.
Soon, all three flights were assembled near the
starting line. “Fall out!” shouted Riven. “10 minute warm up!
Get loose, we don't want to see any injuries! And hydrate, hydrate,
hydrate!”
Magmar rolled his eyes, halfheartedly swinging his arms
as he and Vandosu meandered over to the female flight. They didn't
get to see much of Kataka, and here was a perfectly good opportunity
to catch up while the supervisors calibrated their stop watches.
“I think I'm in hell.” Kataka moaned.
“Oh come now, you're a pretty good runner!”
Vandosu encouraged her, while performing a quadriceps stretch.
“No, no, no... I know that. It's everything else! I
gave up an OOPs for not saluting an officer, gave up an OOPs for
questioning an order, gave up one for talking in formation... I don't
know if I can do this! And did you see who I have for a junior
instructor? Some frickin' immigrant!” Kataka whined, pointing at
Mira.
Magmar wanted to laugh, but sensing Kataka's distress,
he merely shrugged. “She doesn't seem THAT bad.”
“She's awful!” Kataka exclaimed. “Yesterday,
she caught me throwing some documents into the garbage can instead of
the recycling bin. Well, she chews me out in front of the whole
flight for wasting paper and makes me walk around the barracks,
hugging all the trees and apologizing for being inconsiderate to
their brethren!”
Vandosu doubled over laughing. Magmar tried to keep a
straight face. “She probably wouldn't be so hard on you if you'd
show some respect. Seems like all your OOPs forms are tied to that.”
Kataka opened her mouth to retort, but stopped.
Silently, she fumed while stretching her legs. Magmar smirked,
waiting for the eventual reply.
“Does Riven take forms for stupid stuff?” Kataka
asked, sidestepping the subject of respect.
Magmar and Vandosu nodded their heads vigorously.
“Can't wait to hear what he has to say after I fail
this run. Some bullshit speech about lack of discipline or not
giving it 110%” Magmar pondered.
“Yeah, none of us are model soldiers, Kataka. You
just gotta learn to shut your face once in awhile.” Vandosu said
rather bluntly.
“Well, at least until we're out of training.”
Magmar attempted to soften to blow. “The idea here is to obey
orders. So unless you've been given an order to give orders, I
wouldn't question them...”
Kataka begrudgingly nodded in agreement. “Four more
weeks of this crap, the last one being combat week. I wonder how
that's gonna go.”
“Sleeping in tents, chemical warfare drills, handling
weapons, that kinda stuff. I wonder if we get our swords...”
Vandosu commented thoughtfully. But the three of them didn't have
much time to speculate further. Their leaders were now moving into
position.
“Trainees of squadron 104, listen up!” called the
platinum-haired junior instructor for A-Flight. Magmar noticed the
name on his uniform read 'Kunji'. “If you think you're a fast
runner, make your way to the starting line now! If you're middle of
the pack, get in the middle! The fat kids and the nerd herd can make
their way to the rear!” Magmar immediately moved to the rear.
“Time will start when the last trainee crosses the
line!” Kunji continued while the soldiers jockeyed for positions.
“Now, I'll be the first to admit, I used to be a fat ass! Now, I'm
just a regular ass.” Magmar laughed to himself, wishing he could
trade Riven for Kunji.
“I'll be running at the very back of the pack. If
you stay on pace or ahead of me, you will succeed! But anyone who
sees the ass of this ass--” Kunji pointed his thumbs at himself.
“Will fail!”
“Runners, take your marks!” cried Riven. Magmar
could feel his heartbeat already rising.
“Get set!” Riven surveyed the squadron one last
time. “GO!”
Magmar slowly jogged forward as the trainees began to
space themselves out. He could see Vandosu and Kataka near the
front, setting a very brisk pace. He took a quick glance over his
shoulder and noticed about a dozen or so trainees in between him and
Kunji. Figuring it would be a good idea to keep a buffer, he
attempted to stay in position right where he was at.
As he rounded the first curve, Magmar could see that
Sergeant Dawlot had stayed behind with his stopwatch, but the other
flight supervisors and junior instructors were running right
alongside the squadron. Although it was probably just so they could
monitor the run, Magmar had to give them some respect. Nothing was
more irritating than taking orders from bosses who weren't willing to
do the work themselves.
By the second curve, Magmar was already feeling the
burn. His backward glances were coming in shorter and shorter
intervals. Still twelve people behind him. Ok, maybe eleven. Or
ten. Magmar tried to speed up a bit, but started to feel a stitch in
his side.
“Lookin' good, Magmar!” Mira gave him a thumbs up
as she effortlessly passed him, joining stride with the tiny female
soldier in front of him. “Keep it up, Kafu!”
Curve three. Magmar kept going, passing a few soldiers
who couldn't handle the pace anymore. He longed to throw in the
towel and join them. Each breath was becoming more and more
difficult, but the realization that he was over halfway there kept
him from slowing down. For now. He risked another glance back.
Kunji was dangerously close, with about 15 failures already behind
him. In fact, he was close enough for Magmar to make out an evil
grin on his face. Maybe Riven wasn't so bad after all.
Curve four. Magmar wasn't sure his body had ever been
so angry with him. He could see Sergeant Dawlot in the distance,
Mira and Kafu several lengths ahead of him, and Kunji right by his
side. He was too close to fail now. He ran for it, but Kunji
sprinted right alongside him, laughing all the way. “You've got
to be kidding me!!” Magmar thought, flailing towards the finish
line.
“And, TIME!!” boomed Sergeant Dawlot right as
Magmar and Kunji crossed the line together.
“Congratulations, fatty.” Kunji grinned, giving
Magmar a pat on the back. Magmar responded by falling to knees in
exhaustion. He was vaguely aware that Riven was now behind him,
yelling at everyone who failed and taking their OOPs forms. He could
make out the words “lack of discipline” for sure.
“I'll take one from you, too.” grunted Sergeant
Dawlot, extending a hand to Magmar.
“I...” started Magmar, still heaving, while digging
in his pocket for an OOPs form. “I... thought... I'd... passed...”
he sputtered.
“You sure did, trainee. And that kinda effort
deserves credit. There's trainees in better shape than you that gave
up.” Sergeant Dawlot commented as he wrote his words down on
Magmar's form. “I'd wager you surprised yourself today.” he
added, and turned to join Riven with the group of failures.
“Oh. My. God!” said a familiar voice. Magmar
looked up and saw Kataka in front of him, arms crossed, but smiling.
Vandosu was next to her, also grinning. “Awww, you got an E for
Effort!” he declared happily.
“Shut up, Vandosu.” Magmar grumbled, but couldn't
hold back a smile. “In case you didn't notice, I did actually
pass.”
“Seriously?” Kataka looked shocked, her hazel eyes
wide open. Magmar thought he caught a glimpse of tears forming, but
she quickly turned her head. “I'm so happy for you!” she choked.
“Yeah, we were kinda worried you might get recycled.”
Vandosu admitted. “Way to go, Magmar! I guess one of us IS a
model soldier!”
Magmar gave them a half-smile, not knowing quite how to
respond to their enthusiasm. Sergeant Dawlot was right, he had
surprised himself. Magmar wasn't sure he wanted to be a model
soldier, but the militia did have a way of bringing out the best in
every recruit. And he could instantly see how that concept would
transfer to his chosen career. Slowly, he stood up.
“I think I'm with Kataka.” Magmar stated, his
breathing becoming a little less intense “Four more weeks of this
crap, right?”
~~~
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