PART IX - A NEED FOR DISCIPLINE
The loud, pounding knock on the door made everyone jump. Callie had a moment of panic wondering if she had been found out, or if someone had overheard through the window. Lena walked to the door and opened it.
“Major Celeste?” Lena said, seeing the officer.
“Oh! Hello Recruit Lena,” the Elf said. “I apologize for intruding, but I am in need of assistance from Corporal … Tazrok is it? The Ogre. In an official capacity.”
“Of course,” Lena replied. “Tazrok, it’s for you.”
With thumping steps, the big Ogre quickly came to the bunkhouse entrance and opened the larger door. Lena closed the smaller one inset into it.
Celeste gulped, looking up into the face of the huge Ogre again. Speaking loud and clear, the Major said “Corporal, there was an incident with several people fighting. We have the situation under control and have brought the perpetrators to you for proper … punishment.” Celeste motioned Tazrok closer so she could speak privately, and he dropped to one knee.
“It was a big brawl between some Berserkers and the Barbarians. A big pain if you ask me. I’ve got them terrified of you, after what you did earlier today, so if you want to put some fear into them, I’d appreciate it. Just don’t hurt them so bad they can’t be healed.”
Tazrok frowned. Ten meters away stood a row of eight people. Six were Dwarves and the other two were Beastkin; a Rhinokin and a Wolfkin. All appeared to be males. “Any worth keeping?” he asked the Major.
“If they’ve got it out of their system, sure, but honestly, if we are ultimately going to send them back to basic training instead, I’d rather do it now and save using a worm. I know it’s not a lot of time to make a decision.”
“Anyone else hurt?”
“No. Just these eight. And even then, really only bruises or mild cuts.”
“Good. Play along,” he said, giving the Major a sly smile.
Tazrok stood and slowly walked over to the culprits. He walked down the line, glaring at each. He stopped in front of the Rhinokin, who had a large bruise forming around his left eye. “Did you all get into fight!” Tazrok demanded.
The Rhinokin looked up and gulped. “Ye….yes.”
“Yes what!”
“Yes, Corporal!”
Tazrok looked down at one of the Dwarves. “Is fighting allowed?” he bellowed. Around the courtyard, other recruits were walking out of their houses to see what the commotion was.
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“No. No, Corporal!” The Dwarf responded, a quaver in his voice as he looked up at the Ogre three times his height.
Walking the line again, Tazrok stopped in front of another Dwarf. “What happens to those that break rules?”
The Dwarf looked up at the hulking Ogre and instinctively took a step back, before finding a tiny amount of courage, straightening and hoarsely croaking out, “Then they are punished.”
“Yes, they are!” Tazrok hissed back.
“But we were …” the Dwarf started, before trailing off under Tazrok’s gaze.
The Ogre turned and walked back to stand beside the Major. “Major,” Tazrok said, “Can healers regrow legs?”
The Major looked up in shock at the question, and then saw the tiniest smile on Tazrok’s face. She got it. “They can, Corporal. But it is a very long and very painful process.”
Tazrok nodded curtly. “Good!”.
One of the Dwarves dropped to his knees. “Please, don’t pull our legs off! We won’t fight any more.”
“Silence!” Tazrok called, his voice booming. By now, nearly everyone had come out of their houses, and several officers stood at a distance, watching the proceedings carefully. Even the rest of Ogre House had stepped out onto the porch to see what was going on. Something in the air brought any noise from the eight recruits to an immediate halt.
“Two choices,” Tazrok said. “Choice one. You leave. Now. No worm. Go to basic training. Go to war.”
“And what is the second choice?” the Major said, keeping the Ogre’s momentum going.
“Stay. Get worm tonight. Face punishment … tomorrow one hour before feast.”
The eight brawlers looked at each other and then at the viciously-grinning face of the Ogre. The one still on his knees began to openly weep.
"This, I have decided!" Tazrok added with a final nod.
“I see,” Celeste said. Turning to the eight she said, “You heard the Corporal. All those wishing to avoid his punishment, take one step to the rear. You will be sent down to basic recruit training immediately without your worm. Those willing to face your punishment, take one step forward. You have ten seconds to decide, or the Corporal will decide for you.”
The eight troublemakers again looked at each other, to the Ogre, and to the camp around them. Three Dwarves immediately took a step back, while the two Beastkin immediately took one forward, holding themselves stiff and at attention. The remaining three Dwarves, one of them being the one weeping on the ground, were paralyzed with confusion and fear. Finally, looking sidelong at the two Beastkin, a Dwarf stepped forward.
“Time’s up!” Celeste called out. “Corporal, what shall we do with the other two?”
“They go.”
“You heard the Corporal, take these five and …”
“Wait,” Tazrok interrupted. He pointed at the Dwarf still kneeling on the ground. “He stays.”
“Of course, Corporal!” Celeste said, turning to her subordinates, “Take these four and process them for their return to basic training. Hold them in the brig until they get transport. You remaining four, report immediately to your bunkhouse. Someone will bring you your worms. You are confined there until your punishment tomorrow afternoon. Someone will bring your midday meals.”
The four brawlers leaving the camp were led away, while the four remaining slunk their way towards their own bunkhouses. “What will you do to them?” the Major asked.
“Not sure,” Tazrok said, “but have idea.”
“Oh?”
The Ogre knelt down and whispered into her ear. Celeste got an ever widening grin on her face. “I must say, you are certainly more imaginative than I am, and far more lenient. I will speak to the Quartermaster and make the arrangements.”