"Hey Phil?"
"Hmm."
"Did anyone enter while I was in the latrine?"
"Just a small party, two [paladin's] and a [priest]."
"Ah, that reminds me! Do you know why Paladin's wear chain mail?"
"Well, I imagine it's due to wanting additional protection. Why?"
"Nope! The reason is because Paladin's just like holy armor!!"
...
"Phil? Phil? Did you get it? It's because..."
"I'm not talking to you."
--Conversation between two Guards, Lenorian Dungeon. AC 1621.
----------------------------------------
I wake up to a new day. I struggle to get my bearings for a moment, a dream nudging the edges of my awareness. I try to capture the dream in memory, and only catch inklings of ideas. A little girls face, tentacles reaching out from the dark, a lonely beach. I can't focus on the dream enough to understand and so I let it pass. I need to get ready for the day.
Nudging Luna to get her moving, only the quiet sounds of my squad mates join my muddled thoughts. Luna and I walk over to the usual line where we stand each morning, and I take a look around at my squad mates. Wilhelm floats there, wearily gazing off into the distance. Mina stares down at the floor seemingly lost in thought and the crab brothers are whispering amongst each other. I can't make out what they're saying, my mind still not fully engaged this early, but I do hear them saying things like, "sprockets and tension cables."
Suddenly, the lights fully spring on in the sleeping bay and we all straighten to attention. Drill Sergeant Lee casually saunters in for his usual inspection. It's been a few weeks now and he seems to have calmed down considerably. So far, only when we make an egregious mistake does he bring the claw down on us. As he walks down the line he says,
"Today Privates, you will not be wearing your armor. You have completed the initial physical regimen and small squad tactics portion of your training. You will now be moving onto assaulting objectives and reconnaissance. Know that while you will be expected to engage in direct force as needed, your primary role is to observe and report on the enemy. With the intelligence you will provide, larger echelons will be able to position and maneuver to bring maximum firepower and effectiveness to bear. Don't take this lightly privates... this is a vital role. Any questions?"
For a moment, I'm confused. He said that the physical training and small squad tactics portion was completed. Sure, we had tried to attack him earlier, and we were getting better at it, but I don't think we even managed to land a blow. How was it considered complete? It didn't make any sense. Before I'm able to voice my concern, Mina spoke up.
"Drill Sergeant," she said. "We weren't even able to hit you yesterday, and you said that this part of the training is done?"
The lobster responded,
"Remember, this training is more of a familiarization course then anything else. I am simultaneously assessing your ability and aptitude. After you complete your training, you may be broken up, sent to different units with different individuals and skills. My assessment yesterday was to ensure you met a minimum level of combat competence as well as verify your ability to learn and adapt to others. Believe me Private Mina, for many of the city born this part can last for weeks. Be thankful it was as short as it was. Anything else?"
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The room turned quiet after that as everyone either held their questions or didn't have any additional ones. As the silence grew, he turned and began leisurely walking towards the door. His command to follow him brought us all jogging behind as he ventured into the same hallways that led outside. Before reaching the exit, he abruptly stops and bears in a new direction turning right and entering a new room. We all float, scuttle or coast to follow, dreading whatever fresh horror awaits us.
As I walk in, the far wall immediately grabs my attention. From floor to ceiling, it's completely black and in front of it, there are various sitting places that accommodate each of our size and shapes. Attached to the back of each of them is a little wooden plank that reaches from the back and hovers in front of each seat. On it, there's a book that I can't make out the cover of. In front of the class, a large podium stands off to the side at an elevated angle to the seats before us. The drill sergeant waves at the desks and we take the offered hint, sitting down at our respective desks.
This whole situation feels strange, and my stalks scan the room. The day has been quiet so far... almost too quiet. I'm on the edge of my seat, waiting for the lobster to begin screaming, or an octopus to burst from the ceiling tiles or the desk to catch on fire. I stealthily *tap* the wood in front of me to check the constitution. It is solid, so they must have treated the wood with something to prevent water damage.
My stalks narrow at the wood.
Maybe something flammable...
I shake my head to try to get rid of the paranoia. I'm just seeing claws where there are none I guess. Take the good times while you have it crabby. I pull my attention from the desk to sneak a peak at the book. On the cover it reads,
"Field Manual: 3-20.97"
"Cavalry Troop"
As I finish reading, the sound of the Drill Sergeant clearing his throat pulls my attention to the front. My mandibles drop at the sight before me.
Drill Sergeant Lee looks almost completely different. His coloration has changed from the blue camouflage covering that we're all wearing to a flat black color. On top of his head he is wearing some kind of funny hat. The hat is a square board with a tassel attached to the center. In one massive claw he's clutching a long stick as he begins to talk. I completely miss the first sentence as he speaks in almost a... refined manner.
"Alright good soldiers. For the entirety of this training portion, while in this room, I am no longer Drill Sergeant Lee. You may address me as Professor or Doctor Lee as you will. The next week will be spent in fervent study of the text before you. From reconnaissance to security operations, almost the entirety of your job is described within. Any questions?"
We all sit in stunned silence before a tiny squeak grabs my attention. I glance at the noise and see Billy gently shaking. Is... is he okay? I'm pretty sure he was talking about sprockets earlier... is something wrong with his hardware?
I think back to our earlier fights and the miniature crossbows one of them has in his shell. I eye the dimensions of the room and Luna's location. If need be, I'm pretty sure I can grab her and flip the table if he decides to explode. As I tense to move, just in case, the source of his shaking is revealed. Private Billy bursts into laughter, no longer able to stop himself...
"Hahahahaha! Your voice!! Hahaha! Good...haha! Soldiers!!! Haha! Fervent!!! Professor?!?? Doctor??!! hahaha!"
He's laughing so hard that he starts to wheeze and as the source of the humor is revealed I pale in horror. I look back at the Drill Sergeant, no... Professor... Lee and brace for the storm that is soon to follow.
And yet...
He just stands there, with a small smile on his mandibles. As Billy recovers from his fit of humor I can see the dawning awareness of what he's said reach his brain. For such a smart guy he can be dumb sometimes. To my side, Luna is like me, looking from the Lobster to Billy and back again.
And then the Lobster spoke.
"Yes, well I'm glad you had a good laugh, there's no need to be too uptight and alllll..."
I don’t believe that for a second and I don't think anyone else does either. Especially with that suspicious trailing off at the end there. I'm at the edge of my seat at this point, trying to figure out what’s going to happen, when Drill Sergeant... no... Professor Lee finishes with,
"...and on an unrelated note, I'll see you after class Private Billy. Outside..."
Here we go...
"Whar I'm a Drill Sargent!!! GOT THAT!"
And the accent and yelling is back. I slump in relief. Okay, he's not an imposter. He was just acting dumb and mean the last few weeks. He turns to the blackboard behind him and begins drawing out diagrams. As I open the book to the first chapter, I follow along as the Professor explains how troops move in a larger formation. None of this seems too difficult, it's just alot of material to get through.
As I buckle down to focus, a single nagging voice keeps rising in my head. It asks a single question that I'm afraid to entertain.
Was the lobster really acting dumb earlier?... or is he acting smart now?
I finally manage to squash the question as the hours pass and we break for lunch. At the end of the day I realize...
That there are some things I just don't want to know.