After saying good-byes to their parents or guardians, the candidates were led to a medical lab where they were anxiously waiting in a very long line.

“So what are we doing here?” one of them asked nervously.

“Probably another set of medical tests.”

“But I’ve already done those, haven’t you?”

“Sure,” the boy who was a head taller than anyone answered. “But these are probably new ones, probably just some routine exams.”

Those words did little to calm anyone down. Most of them were nervous. Nobody wanted to be turned down just because of some medical conditions. In the end, over fifty of them did not make it and did not even get to see the inside of their training camp.

Those that did were finally given the password to walk through the tunnel toward the camp and the direction to which barrack to report to.

In the Green barrack, situated in the middle of the camp, one hundred of new candidates didn’t even have time to fully unpack when a boy-sized man in a light brown fatigue suite and a perfectly shinning combat boots walked in. An over-sized, rounded green hat covered most of his face.

“Attention!” he yelled, forcing them all to hustle and line up in front of their bunks.

"Hello, boys and girls! And those of you who are neither," he continued, walking slowly between the bunks, wood creaking sound of his boots the only noise filling the silence of his pause.

“My name is Sergeant Derran, and I am here to be your combat training sergeant.”

“Now you look at me, how short I am… compared to the tallest of you - even two heads shorter, right? And the scars on my face… ’who would want to keep this body, so short and ugly?’ you may be wondering...

“I am sure some of you, probably, do not find me to your liking right now. But I promise you, by the time I finish with you, none of you are going to find me to your liking at all...I can guarantee you will not like me at all! Probably will hate me enough to remember me for the rest of your life! Which by your looks, should not be that far off anyway.”

He took a moment with only his deep and angry inhales could be heard for the words to sink in before continuing. “What you need to know right now is that I just do not care! I don’t care who your mommies, your daddies, your granddaddies, your grand-grand-grand-daddies are, or who they were. I do not even care who you are for that matter! The only thing I care for, as of right now, is how well you listen. And how well you can do what I ask from you!

"I think you were previously properly briefed of what you can and cannot expect here. Wakeups…" He looked at the piece of paper he put in front of his face. "Says here, 6 AM. I say, spaceshit!?! I say wake-ups are any moment I damn please to come in here and tell you to get your sorry asses up! Do you understand that?"

“Yes, sir!”

“Breakfast at… Hell, I won’t even bother going through the rest of this paper. It’s useless,” he said as he tore the paper up and threw it on the floor.

“The only thing that I can tell you is… You may think you will eat three meals a day, but you will be lucky if you get three meals a week! They lied to you! They all lied to you! All of them! Your parents when they told you how smart you are, or the best or whatever other crap they told you to inflate your useless little egos. They lied to you when they told you that you had a chance to become someone, someone special, that you’re ready for this. Well, you ain’t.” Derran stopped in front of two candidates who had extra pounds of fat around their bellies.

“The bottom line is that you will eat, sleep, exercise, and even shit whenever I tell you to, is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir!”

“That is the only way to pay for the privilege of being here… And for those of you who do not like that privilege, remember, the only right you have right now is to quit, to pick your bags and run to your mommies. The way I see it, for most of you that is by far the smartest thing to do. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Sir!”

He walked to the tallest candidate and scanned his tag. “Says here, Fedorankiss ROekj. What kind of parent would name their child like that? You can break your tongue just by saying it. I guess they did not like you from the moment you were born… I guess that’s why they sent you here, wanted to get rid of you and your stupid ass!”

Even though saliva from Derran’s mouth was reaching kid’s face with each word the sergeant was yelling, kid’s eyes did not move, did not flick, and face stayed stone firm.

“Now, that’s what I call a soldier… brave and stupid, ready to die whenever his superiors tell him to. Are you ready to die, boy?”

“No, Sir!”

“Fkiss my ass! I bet you are ready to die.”

“No, Sir!”

"Don't you fucken be a hero with me!"

“No, Sir!” he yelled even more forcefully with his whole lungs.

Derran nodded his head and walked to the boy next to him, passed him, went further down, his face souring in disgust. "Fear, that's all I fucken smell here. You all reek of it! Don't even need to look at you… could smell it out of the barracks. And you have the right to be scared. Because many of you may die here… maybe some of you even came here to die. Did you come here to die?" "No, Sir!" only a few dared to answer.

“Well, if some did, you just let me know. And I’ll just shoot you down right now and get it over with. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir!” Everyone answered and barrack windows shook.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Don’t you fucken never forget that.”

Derran started to walk back to the entrance, looking at each of them, not sparing them

“For those of you who are stupid enough to stay, I’ll teach you how to shoot, how to fight, how to sneak to an enemy guard and slit his throat right open before he even has a chance to piss his pants…I have to teach you how to be the meanest daughters and sons of bitches that space has ever seen, and I have less than a year to do so…

“And just by looking at you, looking at how pathetic you look, worse than a wet cat - I say that a year will not be enough time for many of you...”

“So, right now, I see through the window that we are being blessed by what locals call here ‘Fyoran drizzle’…” Even those that didn’t dare to move their heads had moved their eyes toward the windows where a torrential shower poured its soul outside, and the raindrops washed over the windows with a frenzy of a waterfall.

“So, we are going to take a little ten-mile run outside through the countryside. If any of you think of dropping dead, well, please do so, for I will not stop to pick your sorry ass up, but will be glad actually to have one less sorry ass to yell at! Now move!!!”

The dirt road that snaked up the thick pine forest became slippery enough for almost all of the candidates to fall down, at least once. As the slope increased, it became more of a stream of rushing muddy water than the running track. Their line, started with four of them running abreast, soon stretched. As they circled the mountain and headed back, it was more than a mile long.

The first ones made it back to the barracks as the rain stopped and the fog started to set in. The last ten, as the night fell, and they could not even see their step, needed the help of the sergeant's flashlight to guide them home.

But Derran had counted only ninety-nine of them. He walked backward, stopping every few steps trying to listen. He hoped that nobody was stupid enough to venture into the woods, looking for shortcuts.

He took out his military-grade thermal scanner. Far up the road, beyond the second curve, he could see a heat signature of a body lying down.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he appeared suddenly on top of Siya.

“I think I sprained my ankle,” she said unable to stand up.

“Relax…” he said as he made her stretch her leg and then pulled out her ankle. “See if that feels better.”

“Yes, Sir, yes it does…”

“Good, because I was not planning on carrying you,” he said as she got up, surprised how little pain she felt. Then they quietly walked back to the barracks.

“Sir?” She stopped before the entrance stairs.

“Yes?”

“Sir, you said... you will leave anyone who falls behind...”

“A young girl of fifteen is reminding me of what I said? Is that what I am seeing here?” Derran smirked.

The girl didn’t answer.

"What this little girl does not know yet is that a real soldier has a right to talk spaceshit… Space hell, a real soldier, a true soldier has a right to talk any kind of shit she or he likes. He has a right to talk since he will do the walk – knowing that that walk may cost him his life, understand?"

Siya still said nothing but her eyes were fixed on his.

"What the true solder doesn't have a right, does never have a right, is to leave his comrade, his friend-in-arms behind, especially if he can help. Understand that? So, the only question then that emerges right now is: do you think I am a real soldier or some space-shitting asshole who dresses up as a sergeant to play around with little kids?"

Siya knew to keep her mouth shut.

“So, now get your sorry ass out of this rain, and don’t you ever dare question if I am a real deal, understand?”

“Yes, Sir! She answered shivering as much from cold as from the energy that came through his words.

It seemed everyone inside the barrack heard the speech and the sudden silence was only interrupted by Siya’s hurried creaking steps.

The next day, after breakfast, twenty bunks were emptied. As he watched the last of them being stripped of the bedclothes by the maintenance crew, Derran was not sure whether he should be glad to note that neither one of those bunks belonged to Siya's.

***

Derran did not want to waste six months to wait to start teaching them hand-to-hand combat as was originally designed in the program. He felt, since it takes years to develop adequately fast reflexes and train the body in the art of close combat, he could not afford to lose those six months. So, the very next day, he took all the candidates to a practice dojo and decided to spend the whole day evaluating them properly.

None of them were ready for a full dose of practice, not even close. They were not even half of what he was when he signed up for the army. But, he did practice martial arts since he could walk, so maybe it was not a fair comparison.

So he started slow, pairing each of them next to a practice droid that he previously set to a pre-novice level, and teaching them the simplest of hand and feet movements.

After a long hour of hustling to line them upright, he noticed a blond kid of decent build whose hand movement was faster than the rest of them. He measured it. Fifty BLs. Not bad. The kid was only fifteen. Maybe with the training, he could get it to be all the way to six, seven hundred BLs, maybe more. He took on as dummy himself and measured his own impact strength. Two thousand three hundred and fifty BLs. He was slipping. When he was in the top of his shape, he could easily do over three thousand.

He also paid Siya added attention. She was slow and weak, but agile and persistent, and she was already showing improvement. Another kid with the potential to learn, he was happy to conclude.

Just before he was ready to call the practice off and send them to the cafeteria for their brunch, the accident happened. One of the clumsy kid stepped into the working area of a girl that was practicing next to him, and her droid had accidentally bumped him, knocking him hard on the tip of his nose. He twisted awkwardly around and flew through the air, and when he landed, his leg snapped as if it was a twig.

The boy yelled in pain and the blood from his broken nose ran down his face and his shirt. All the droids instantly froze, and the girl whose droid had knocked him down covered her mouth and then fainted as she realized the quantity of blood that was already soaking the floor.

Derran towered over the kid and before calling the medic, he showed the kid how to hold his nose to stop the bleeding.

The accident was not a big deal. The nose could be fixed and the bleeding was already being controlled. His leg was all twisted, obviously broken, but no bones were sticking out and it was nothing that the med lab could not take care of. But the kid kept on screaming and screaming. Obviously, he never felt this kind of physical pain.

“Stop yelling,” Derran told him, but that accomplished nothing and the kid continued to scream as if they were skinning him alive.

“Control that pain, and stop yelling!” He ordered him, but the kid would not listen.

“This is nothing. You are fine. So, either you stop crying or I’ll send you home,” he said calmly in the end, but the kid could not be calmed down.

I guess two less to worry about, Derran thought as he glanced at the girl who still laid unconscious.