SG Vol. 1 pt. 13 (Patreon)
Content
Muscles may have underestimated me, but I like him. It’s entertaining watching him utterly fucking dominate Ginger.
Valkyrie and Samurai make for an entertaining matchup as well. I think Valkyrie without her jacket is part of why Ginger is getting destroyed so easily, and why some of the girls are even struggling.
She’s just distracting. Even somebody with no interest in those things on her chest is probably going to find it hard not to watch.
I think I’m starting to understand why most instructors are women now. When most draftees are women, it only makes sense.
“Keep it up! Put more force into your attacks! Right now, whoever you’re partnered with is your enemy. You need to beat your enemy down until they can’t get back up! Knock their teeth out, make them bleed, break their bones – do whatever it takes to win,” I shout at them.
I know they’re not actually going to hurt each other badly enough that any bones will be broken, but they’re being too safe. They need to experience pain and learn how to shut it off.
The sound of a body getting tossed to the ground behind me reaches my ears right after turning away to watch another pairing.
Valkyrie has grappled Samurai and is placing one of her knees down on top of the smaller girl’s chest while her other leg maintains balance. Samurai makes the mistake of trying to push Valkyrie off of her which that results in Valkyrie easily getting Samurai into an armlock. Samurai looks like she tries to resist for a few seconds, but as soon as Valkyrie pulls harder on her harm, Samurai surrenders to get her arm released.
The blonde stands up wipes the sweat off of her forehead before reaching down to help Samurai up. While Samurai might have just been dominated by Valkyrie, she accepts the offered hand and even bows to Valkyrie.
“Again,” I order.
All pairings are back to sparring.
I need to pay close attention so that I can figure out which couples will be the most equal in strength tomorrow. The more equal they are, the harder the fight will be, the more they’ll learn and improve.
As for Ginger, he’s just up against Muscles as extra punishment for earlier.
I’ll be the first to admit that I really, really didn’t think he would still be here by now. But, no matter what I toss at him, he keeps on pushing through and getting back up. That’s the kind of spirit that we need. Maybe he’ll become a respectable pilot if I can fix that personality of his before he leaves.
One of the girls finally collapses.
She’s covered in sweat, her eyes are shut, and her breathing is labored.
Heat exhaustion combined with being overworked.
“Muscles!” I shout, bringing an end to Ginger’s punishment-sparring. “Take her to the infirmary. It’ll be faster than bringing them here with a stretcher.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Muscles replies, picking up the girl in his arms and carrying her off.
I bet he’ll have fun explaining everything to the nurses.
Zane is going to have his work cut out for him covering for me. But, they had to know this was going to happen. They wouldn’t want me to be an instructor if they didn’t want me to drag these cadets through Hell kicking and screaming.
“Ginger, get over here. You two can spar until we’re done,” I tell him and the girl who was previously sparring with the one taken to the infirmary.
Looking down at my watch, it should be time for lunch soon. I’ll let them have a thirty-minute break to grab some food, water, and to relax while I… right, I’ve got to go have lunch with that nurse girl.
“Hey, look!” a nearby woman says. “The Enterprise is back!”
I turn around and look where she’s pointing, and she’s right. The USS Enterprise – the Big E, is coming back into port.
It’s still hard to believe that she and the other old girls from the beginning of the war are still kicking. They might even get to live to see the end of it at this rate.
Looking back at my cadets, half of them have stopped what they’re doing to watch as the Enterprise sails into port. “Get back to training!” I shout at them. Just knowing that she’s returned safely to port is enough of a morale boost. They don’t need to actually watch her make the slow trip to dock.
I’m just annoyed that this means the Fighting Aces are back. I might respect the fuck out of them but fuck if they aren’t some cocky assholes whenever they’re not in a unit. Would love to fight with them but would never drink with them.
“Alright! That’s enough for now,” I shout at the cadets. They all stop what they’re doing and turn to face me. “You get thirty. Eat, drink, take a shit, pass out in some shade – do whatever the fuck you want for the next thirty and then meet me back in the classroom. Anybody not there when we resume is out. Dismissed.”
“Sir, yes, sir!” the cadets say in unison before running off to wherever they want to go. They all look to be heading to the cafeteria which is going to be annoying if they see me in there with the nurse.
Might as well get this over with.
Surely enough, sitting at the front desk of the infirmary is Clover exactly where she said she’d be. She looks busy typing away at the computer in front of her. One pile of papers is sitting on the desk to her left, and several stacked folders are to her right.
She’s even got some glasses on.
“Oi, I’ve got twenty left until I need to get back to the brats,” I speak up.
Clover jumps, blushes, and removes her glasses. “A-ah! Sorry, sorry, let me check if it’s alright,” she says, getting up from her chair to run off around the corner.
She comes back a minute later with somebody to take her place at the desk.
“Let’s not waste any time,” I say, leading her to the cafeteria.
Of course, it’s packed. At least the cooks are able to get through everybody quickly. Anybody who can’t decide what they want between option A and option B at each of the cooks gets their choice made for them.
“I’ve heard the food here is actually quite good!” Clover says as we get in line.
“It’s not bad. Guess that’s what happens when the country’s best chefs don’t have anywhere else to cook,” I reply.
Great. My cadets are sitting together at one of the tables in the center of the room, and I can feel them all looking over at us.
Some of the girls are whispering to each other while looking between me and Clover.
Apparently, I didn’t push them hard enough if they still have the desire to use their mouths for anything other than eating.
“Also,” Clover says, “about that poor girl brought to us.”
“What about her?” I ask. “She—”
“Please do not push them that hard again. The colonel told us that we should expect such incidents with you, but if you accidentally push a cadet too far, then that is one less future pilot to help save this world.”
“I’m producing quality, not quantity. Anybody who breaks down like she did wouldn’t be able to survive my training. It’s better to have passed out from something trivial like that than to pass out in the middle of what I’ve got planned for the future.”
“I understand that, but—”
“But what? You’re a nurse. I’m sure you’ve seen just how many crybabies we’ve got. The military is completely different from how it used to be in my dad’s days. We wouldn’t even have a military if we applied old, real standards to these brats. Everybody wants to be a fuckin’ hero while being allowed to shit their pants at the first sign of trouble. Brass is producing chickens to be slaughtered, not killers to save the world and win the war.”
Clover looks away. The people in front and behind us who have been listening in are also cringing and looking away now.
They know I’m right.
“Just don’t get the pizza,” I tell Clover. “Cafeteria pizza will never be good.”
She’s silent and won’t look in my direction.
I figured this would happen. She’s been scared now that she’s seen how I truly am. Old and annoyed. Zane really fucked up trying to send her to me.
Grumbling. Stomach grumbling.
I look down at Clover and see her holding her stomach with one of her hands, her face bright red now. “Y-you didn’t hear anything,” she says, looking up at me with hesitant eyes.
It’s a good thing she’s just a nurse.