Shalia's Diary #7

by Tracy St. John

  I wondered if he was insulted. Did he think I didn’t feel he was an adequate protector? I rushed to explain.

  “Look, I have Anrel to think about. You know I’m always finding some trouble to get into even with a ship full of Nobeks and three destroyers at my side. You won’t always be around to get me out of it. Even with everyone shouting how they’re going to keep us safe, no one can guarantee it. Larten is pumped up to protect and beat the hell out of things on my behalf. But even he believes it’s a good idea for me to have some sort of training just in case the unthinkable happens. Why not all of it? Why not give me the best odds possible in case Tragooms get on the ship again or some freak tries to kidnap me or Nang somehow gets to Kalquor before anyone can stop him? In the end, I’m Anrel’s last line of defense. I should be ready if it comes down to it.”

  Oses kept staring at me after my long stream of babble. I wondered if he’d kept up with any of it.

  At last he drew a breath. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, as if the whole thing was some outrageous comedy. I readied myself for an argument ... or disbelieving laughter.

  Instead he nodded. “All right. You’ll start tomorrow.”

  It was my turn to sit in silence as I absorbed that quiet statement. Then my heart leapt. “Really? You’ll train me?”

  “I’ll oversee it. There are some things others will do better than I, and I will enlist their expertise. Self-defense – and you will learn self-defense before combat fighting – will be with me. We also have to get you into decent shape.”

  He sat back and looked me up and down, assessing what he had to work with. After a moment, Oses shook his head. “As a woman and lover, you lack nothing. As a fighter? You are in need of work.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you serious about this, Shalia? Because you will have to work hard. Those who train you will not be kind with pretty words. If you slack off, you will be berated and insulted. If you don’t put in the effort, we will not waste our time with you.”

  I could see a lot of hurt feelings coming my way. Could I handle that, having been doted on since boarding this ship? How would I handle it when Oses yelled at me like Larten did his trainees? For a moment, I second guessed myself. Being told I wasn’t worth becoming a Tragoom’s loin cloth would be pretty rough.

  But we still had several weeks of space travel to go. Nang was on his way. Anrel needed me to be strong. And by the prophets, I am tired of being scared and helpless.

  “I’m sure,” I said in a firm tone. “The question is, can you handle it? Because if I think you’re coddling me, there will be hell to pay.”

  Oses grinned at my bravado. “Then you are now training. I will consult with a dietician. You may have to give up some of that chocolate you love so much.”

  I groaned. “Fine, but keep your big mitts off my coffee. There is no compromise on that.”

  Oses sat contemplating. “We have to get you into real shape, pet. You’re still trying to regain the ground you lost after the poisoning. There are a few moves and strategies I can teach you in the meantime, but you have to get into top form.”

  “Believe me, I’ll be glad to get done with physical therapy,” I snorted. “The sooner I’m done with Dramok Resan, the better.”

  Oses lifted a brow. “Resan is this ship’s top physical trainer. I wouldn’t have anyone else work with you to get you and keep you in shape.”

  My jaw dropped. “Oh no, Oses. I can’t stand him! There has to be someone else.”

  The Nobek’s look went stern. “Do you want this or not?”

  I was no longer so excited about making myself into Warrior Woman of Kalquor. Sometimes the only thing keeping me from storming out of physical therapy is knowing it won’t last forever and I can tell Resan once and for all to go fuck himself. Now Oses was telling me I would be under that bastard’s thumb for the rest of the trip.

  “I guess that whole thing about insults and getting verbally abused is already underway,” I pouted. “He is such an asshole.”

  Oses grinned. “Yes, he is. As I and everyone else who trains you will be. If you want to train like a Nobek, you have to be prepared to be treated like one. We will do our best to grind you down so we can rebuild you into the strongest, best fighter possible. You may even end up hating me.”

  “And you’re okay with that?” I asked. I kept my tone light, but I saw what I was unleashing. Even so, I knew I could never hate Oses.

  Especially when he looked at me with that fierce devotion in his eyes. “If it will make you safer and settle your mind, I would take the full measure of your loathing.”

  “Oses, I could never despise you. Not after everything we’ve been through together and all you’ve done.”

  I stood up and circled my arms around his waist, laying my cheek on his broad chest. His embrace was the shelter it had always been. But it was time for me to be ready to become my own shelter if needed ... and Anrel’s.

  “I can’t promise I won’t call you a billion ugly names,” I teased Oses.

  He laughed. “If you don’t, then I won’t be doing right by you.” He dipped his head to plant a kiss on my forehead. “It might not be possible, but we should try to leave the inevitable anger behind in the training room. Outside of your lessons, it will be us as we are now.”

  “I’ll take that bargain,” I said. “But I’ll still want to serve Resan up alive to starving wolverines. One piece at a time.”

  I doubt Oses knows what a wolverine is, but he got the message anyway. He laughed and hugged me close.

  Let the training begin.

  August 7

  No matter what Oses says, Dramok Resan is a complete bastard and I hope one day he loses a fight to a Tragoom. And that said Tragoom makes him his bitch.

  Asshole.

  I did my usual physical therapy under Resan’s glare. Seems Oses had already told him he was in charge of getting me ready to fight the entire universe all by myself. Resan wasted no time in giving me his opinion of the matter.

  I was only five minutes in when Resan began his insults. “You have got to be kidding me, Matara. Tell me this is a joke. You are already panting for air? This is what the weapons commander wants me to strengthen?”

  “Well, I did try to get him to find me someone with a little humanity,” I huffed. My shoulders burned. I hated that I hurt over sad little three-pound weights. Getting my arms to lift straight up took some serious work, but Resan wasn’t about to give me the first word of credit.

  Resan was in my face in an instant. “You want someone who will treat you like a baby princess! I’ve seen Plasians with more will to fight than you! Hell, I bet your daughter can do a better job!”

  Resan is not a bad looking man, if I’m forced to be honest. I hate to give him any compliments, so it will end right there. He does have a long nose, and it is rather pointy. With it only inches from my face, the urge to bite it off was almost overwhelming.

  “I am doing the best that I can,” I snarled through gritted teeth.

  “Then you are hopeless and pathetic,” he snarled back, his big round eyes squinting tiny in the sneer he gave me. “This is no longer about making you strong enough to waltz your weak ass from your quarters to the dining room. It’s about giving you the skills to survive and fight and win. Now work or get out.”

  He switched me to triceps kickbacks. My shoulders went to jelly in relief. However, the backs of my arms wailed after a few reps.

  “Are you sweating?” Resan shouted in disbelief. “Over this?”

  “I walked for half a mile before we started this,” I panted. “Of course I’m sweating.”

  “Half a mile? Half a mile? My grandmother, may that great woman live forever, can run ten miles and carry on a conversation the whole time! In her best gown! You have got to be kidding me! Move those weights, damn you! No one said slack off. Stop being so lazy.”

  On and on it went, him bullying and belittling me. I responded by pointing out reasonable excuses why I wasn’t ready to participate in
the Olympics. When he hurled more insults, I did the same. Before half an hour was out we were toe to toe, screaming curses at each other.

  I was so intent on out-swearing Resan that I didn’t notice when Oses, Betra, Feru, and Tep came in. How long they stood there watching us go at it, I couldn’t have said. I only became aware of their presence when Resan addressed Oses.

  “You see, Weapons Commander? It is exactly as I told you it would be. All excuses, no effort. I cannot train someone so weak in spirit, so lacking in drive.”

  “No effort? NO EFFORT?” I screamed in disbelief. I grabbed the hem of my sweat-soaked tee shirt to draw their attention. “Look at me! Does it look like I’m making no effort?”

  Resan waved his hand dismissively. “It is wet from your tears, little girl. Go cry somewhere else. Come back when you’re ready to work.”

  “I have not been crying!” I was humiliated to have anyone think I had been. True, I’d come close a couple of times when Resan had said something particularly cruel, but I had not shed one fucking tear. I wasn’t about to give him that victory.

  Tep came forward and waved a handheld scanner over me. He looked over the readings.

  “You have been working ... some. I suppose the lactic acid in your muscles makes you feel miserable, but it’s not damage. It’s not even real muscle fatigue. You could be doing more, Shalia.”

  “Ha!” Resan chortled. His prominent cheekbones seemed to grow twice their size when he squished them with a triumphant smile. “Now you have nothing to say.”

  “I have plenty to say,” I snarled at him. “Starting where I’d like to shove this weight.”

  “If you put half the energy into working that you do crying and whining, you might get somewhere.”

  “I am not crying!” I shouted. I stopped myself just in time to keep from stomping one foot like a child. Resan would have been all over me if I’d done it.

  He gave Oses an irritable look. “She won’t do it. Send her to the nursery with her baby.”

  Oses cocked his head to one side. “You say she won’t. But if she wanted to, she could?”

  His tone grudging, Resan admitted, “When she tries, she shows a small bit of promise. But she is too used to being cared for. She doesn’t have the strength of will to push through the necessary pain of real effort.”

  Feru had watched the whole thing with his usual clinical fascination, stroking his chin in his contemplative manner. He spoke up. “You’re incorrect about the strength of will, Dramok. Shalia has more of that than anyone I’ve seen. You’re making the mistake of setting it against you instead of making it work for Shalia.”

  Resan pursed his lips. “Either she does the work, or she doesn’t. So far, she’s not doing it.”

  Feru grinned. “Would I be wrong in thinking you two don’t like each other?”

  The trainer folded his arms over his chest. “I have no feelings for her one way or the other. She is a task. Returning her to health has been my job. Now I’m being asked to make her more, to make her capable of fighting. If she would work as I’ve told her to, it would happen.”

  “Shalia?”

  “I think Resan’s a jerk. Spacing him would be all the reward I could ask.”

  That got them all laughing. Even Resan smirked a little. I didn’t laugh. I was serious.

  Feru gave Oses and Betra a look. “She makes an important point about a reward. I know she wishes to be trained similar to a Nobek, but she’s not a Nobek. Nor is she Kalquorian. You can’t treat her as such.”

  “What do you suggest?” Betra asked.

  Feru gave me an understanding smile. “The long goal is established, and it’s a good one. Shalia wants to be able to defend herself and her child if she must. However, accomplishing such a goal will take time. Constant pushing without short-term incentives along the way might take away her motivation.”

  Resan looked insulted. “Reward her before the task is accomplished? Ridiculous.”

  “For us, yes. The way our society is set up, we’ve been conditioned to prove our detractors wrong. The more scorn we receive, the harder we work to overcome it. But with Shalia, such pushing only makes her want to give you as hard a time as possible ... even to the point of unconsciously inhibiting her own progress.”

  I didn’t much like Feru’s take on my mindset. I was working hard. Hadn’t this been my idea in the first place?

  I had a few choice words for him, but Resan spoke up first. “I cannot demand less than her best. I will not give out treats just because she does what she’s supposed to.”

  “No, train her as you see fit. The incentives when she does well can come from elsewhere.” Feru gave Betra and Oses significant looks.

  Betra grinned at the weapons commander. “I have a few rewards in mind.”

  I know I turned red as a beet.

  Oses nodded. “I think we can set up such a system. Let’s say I get a good report from all of your trainers for a couple of weeks, Shalia. They tell me you’re applying yourself to the best of your abilities, making progress, and I feel you’re doing the same with me ... we can give you something special to keep you motivated. Every couple of weeks until we reach Kalquor, you earn compensation for your hard work.”

  Resan rolled his eyes. I could tell he thought little of the plan. I wasn’t so sure of it myself. Damn it, I had been trying with him. If I held back, it was only because I wanted a little energy left to hang out with my friends and spend more time with Anrel. I don’t want to spend my non-training hours in a coma.

  I want this instruction though. For Anrel’s sake, I need it. I got the feeling Resan and Oses were thinking of pulling the plug on my training. Plus I’m more than a little curious what kind of rewards Betra and Oses might hand out for a job well done.

  I gave Resan a wary look. “Are you going to at least be truthful and tell Oses when I work hard?”

  He scowled. “I will not dignify that insulting question with an answer.”

  Oses gave us both a dark look. “Dramok Resan is tough, but fair. If you give him your very best effort, he will report it.”

  Six weeks, I told myself. I only have to put up with Resan’s shit for that long. I might even get something special for it.

  “Deal,” I said. “Now the rest of you get out so I can finish with this crap for the day.”

  “Just try to keep the screaming down,” Tep said, grinning. “That’s what brought us in here in the first place. I don’t think I’ve ever heard such language, especially from an Earther.”

  Feru chuckled with him. “I interned at a Nobek training camp for six months, and I never heard that much profanity the whole time.”

  “There’s a lot more where that came from,” I said, looking at Resan as I spoke. “But I’ll try to keep it down to a low howl.”

  They left. Resan and I got back to work. By the time we were done I had belted out a lot more filth, my legs were shaking violently, and I could no longer lift my arms over my head. But Resan didn’t tell me I was wasting his time for the rest of our session. He called me every name in the book and made up a few, but he didn’t say a word about me not doing my best this time.

  I still hate him.

  August 10

  I am in so much pain. I swear, even my eyelashes hurt. Only three days into training, and I’m dying here.

  Resan continues to be relentless. I truly do dislike the man. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I can’t even blame it on him being a brutal bastard – which he is. No, there is just something about him that rubs me wrong. I’ve come across this with others before, where there is no one reason I can pick out why we can’t stand each other. We just do. Resan is that person on this transport for me.

  Fortunately, I’m no longer his only target. Candy and Katrina have decided to join me in my fight training hell. Now Resan rants at all three of us. He’s made Candy cry both days she’s joined in. She’s apparently part Kalquorian going by what Feru described as that species’ mindset. The more Resa
n tells her she’s worthless, the more she strives to prove him wrong. I’ve made Candy my inspiration when I’m ready to stomp out of the room.

  Katrina looks at Resan like he’s some strange creature she’s never seen before. Nothing he says ruffles her. She’s got bigger problems than a verbally abusive fitness trainer. Sometimes she even laughs at his insults, which I’ve noticed seems to piss him off. It’s hilarious. I wish I could pull that off.

  Poor Katrina. She’s still struggling with what to do about her son Matthew. She’s even taking some time off from seeing Clan Wotref, needing the distance to sort out everything. Best case scenario is that Matthew comes to his senses, lets her back into his and his children’s lives, and she can go back to her three men to live lustfully ever after ... or for however long she chooses to. Imdiko Ret always has a wistful look on his face when she comes into Medical to visit Anrel, though he respectfully keeps his distance. I note her stealing glances at him too when he’s not looking, her face drawn with sadness. She misses the captain’s clan.