I could predict 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 as 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.
We had several weeks of space travel to go. Nang was on his way. I had to be strong for Anrel. 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 believe you’re coddling me, there’ll be hell to pay.”
Oses grinned at my bravado. “Then you are now training. I’ll 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 for now, but you have to be in top form for the rest.”
“Believe me, I’ll be glad to finish 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 take you to the next level.”
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. Often the only thought keeping me from storming out of physical therapy is knowing it won’t continue 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 issue about insults and verbal abuse is already underway,” I pouted. “He is such an asshole.”
Oses grinned. “Yes, he is. As I and everyone else who coaches you will be. If you plan to train like a Nobek, you have to be prepared to be treated like one. We’ll do our best to grind you down so we can rebuild you into the strongest fighter possible. You may 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’ll keep you safer and settle your mind, I would take the full measure of your loathing.”
“Oses, I could never despise you. Not after what we’ve been through 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 I had to be ready to be my own shelter ... 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’ll be us as we are now.”
“I’ll take that bargain. I’d still love to serve Resan up alive to starving wolverines. One piece at a time.”
I doubt Oses is familiar with 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 someday 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. Oses had already informed him he was in charge of readying me to battle the entire universe all by myself. Resan wasted no opportunity in giving me his opinion of the matter.
I was only five minutes in when Resan began his insults. “You have to be kidding me, Matara. Tell me this is a joke. You are already panting for air? This is what the weapons commander expects me to strengthen?”
“I did try to convince him to find me someone with humanity,” I huffed. My shoulders burned. I hated that I hurt over sad little three-pound weights. Lifting my arms straight up took some serious effort, but Resan wasn’t about to offer the first word of credit.
He was in my face in an instant. “You want someone who’ll treat you like a baby princess! I’ve seen Plasians with more will than you! Hell, I bet your daughter can do a better job!”
Resan is not an unattractive man, if I’m forced to be honest. I hate to compliment him in any fashion, so it’ll end right there. He does have a long nose, and it is rather pointy. With it only inches from my teeth, the urge to bite it off was almost overwhelming.
“I’m doing the best that I can,” I snarled through gritted teeth.
“Then you are hopeless and pathetic,” he snarled in return, his big round eyes squinting tiny in his sneer. “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 win. Focus or get out.”
He switched me to tricep kickbacks. My shoulders went to jelly in relief. However, 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,” 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 while she does so! In her finest gown! You have 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 many minutes 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 been close a couple of instances when Resan had growled something particularly cruel, but I had not shed a single fucking tear. I wasn’t about to allow him that victory.
Tep came forward and waved a handheld scanner over me. He glanced over the readings.
“You have been exerting ... 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 could shove this weight.”
“If you invested half the energy into training that you do crying and whining, you might get somewhere.”
“I am not crying!” I shouted. I stopped myself from stomping my foot childishly. Resan would have been all over me if I’d done it.
He gave Oses an irritable gaze. “She won’t do it. Send her to the nursery with her baby.”
Oses cocked his head to the side. “You claim she won’t. If she wished 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.”
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 her strength of will, Dramok. Shalia has more of that than anyone I’ve seen. You’re committing the mistake of setting it against you instead of making it work for Shalia.”
Resan pursed his lips. “Either she does what she’s supposed to, or she doesn’t. So far, she’s not doing it.”
Feru grinned. “Would I be wrong in thinking you don’t approve of 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 forge her into more, to make her capable of fighting. If she would train 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. I didn’t laugh. I was serious.
Feru cast a glance at Oses and Betra. “She brings up an important point about a reward. 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 offered 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 takes effort. Constant pushing without short-term incentives along the way might take away her motivation.”
Resan appeared insulted. “Reward her before the task is accomplished? Ridiculous.”
“For us, yes. In our society, we’ve been conditioned to prove our detractors wrong. The more scorn we receive, the harder we try to overcome it. With Shalia, such pushing only encourages her retaliate by giving you as hard a time as possible ... to the point of unconsciously inhibiting her own progress.”
I wasn’t a fan of Feru’s take on my outlook. I was exercising 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 won’t hand out treats because she does what she’s supposed to.”
“No, train her as you see fit. The incentives when she does well can be allotted from elsewhere.” Feru gazed at Betra and Oses with significance.
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 establish such a system. Let’s say I receive a good report from all of your trainers for a couple of weeks, Shalia. They tell me you’re applying yourself to the utmost of your abilities, progressing, 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 endeavors.”
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 energy left to hang out with my friends and spend more time with Anrel. I have no intention of spending my non-training hours in a coma.
I have to have this instruction though. For Anrel’s sake, I need it. I got the feeling Resan and Oses were thinking of pulling the plug. Plus I’m more than a tad curious what kind of rewards Betra and Oses might hand out for a job well done.
I glared warily at Resan. “Are you going to at least be truthful and tell Oses when I work hard?”
He scowled. “I won’t dignify that insulting question with an answer.”
Oses gave us both a dark stare. “Dramok Resan is tough, but fair. If you offer him your very best, he’ll report it.”
Six weeks, I consoled myself. I only have to deal with Resan’s shit for that long. I might earn something special for it.
“Deal. Now the rest of you leave so I can finish with this crap for the day.”
“Just try to keep the screaming down,” Tep grinned. “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 amount of profanity the whole while.”
“There’s a lot more where that came from.” I glared at Resan as I spoke. “I’ll try to keep it down to a low howl.”
They left. Resan and I returned to the workout. By the end of it, I had belted out a lot more filth, my legs were shaking violently, and I couldn’t lift my arms over my head even once more. 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 invented a few, but he spoke not a word about me not doing all I could.
I still hate him.
August 10
I am in so much pain. I swear, 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 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 particular 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 training hell. 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 Resan tells her she’s worthless, the more she strives to prove him wrong. Candy is my inspiration when I’m ready to stomp out of the room.
Katrina gazes at Resan as if he’s some strange creature she’s never seen before. Nothing he spews ruffles her. She has bigger problems than a verbally abusive fitness trainer. She 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 taking some time off from seeing Clan Wotref, needing the distance to sort out everything. Best case scenario is that Matthew regains his senses, lets her into his and his children’s lives, and she can return to her three men to live lustfully ever after ... or for however long she chooses to. Imdiko Ret always has a wistful expression on his face when she shows up in 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.
Back to my drills. I enjoy blade training a lot. Our instructor is a Nobek about Oses’s age. His name is Idow, and he has so many scars he resembles a walking roadmap. Despite being such a mess, the man is amazing to watch when he demonstrates a new technique. He has the grace of a ballet dancer, moving as if he’s formed of water rather than flesh. He has a son and a nephew who trained under Larten and offers only praise for my beau.
The blade Larten had made for me is easy to handle. Candy uses a knife borrowed from Nobek Mihi, and she complains about how heavy it is. It was rendered for a muscular Nobek, as is the blade Katrina wields. Since she won’t see Clan Wotref, Nobek Siko sent her one of his through Oses.
We’re learning to parry blows from Idow (he uses a non-lethal stick instead of a blade), and the other two are incredibly clumsy with their cumbersome knives. Idow is designing better blades for the transport’s armorer to manufacture for them. Oses told me that unbeknownst to the gals, Wotref is paying for the knives.
Oses is as tough on us as Resan is in regard to self-defense tactics ... but not as nasty with the insults. Still, he makes no bones about it when he’s not h
appy with our performances. “That was adequate “is high praise coming from our unimpressed weapons commander.
He and I have already had words over the instruction, just as we knew we would. As I said, I am in so much pain, I can barely see straight. I swear I’ve discovered sore muscles in places that I didn’t know I possessed. Today’s schedule had me, Candy, and Katrina trooping straight from Dramok Ass – I mean Resan – to Oses. I was out of sorts after a particularly ugly confrontation with the man who should be staked on a hill of fire ants. I was dreaming up vicious visions of retaliation when we reached the tiny room where the weapons commander waited.
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