#i cant wait to go back for the trial captain selection

[aster-pkmn-irl-real]

sigh. stares longingly at blueberry. why do you guys get a terarium and i dont.

[veloxaraptor]

Training Day (Captain Errol Flynn)

(Lapold Reul belongs to @schrammes-ramblings and is used with permission.)

“Alright maggots, listen up.” Errol strides out, front and center of the troops daily formation. “You've been receiving training under the commander and I for a while now. But that's all pointless if you never get to test the things you've learned. So today, we will have a real, live-fire simulation.”

The troops all side eye one another and a quiet murmur breaks through the ranks. A tic goes off in Errol’s jaw and she immediately calls them all to attention. “Oy! No talking in formation! How many times must we cover this?!” It was true, she had. And each time they messed it up, only served to infuriate her more. “All of you! Drop! Rifles on your hands, give me twenty! The Lieutenant here will keep watch. Any of you screw up and you start back over. As a group. Lieutenant.” She turns to her randomly selected accomplice. “Once they’ve finished their exercise satisfactorily, escort them to the training grounds out back.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He offered a snappy salute and Errol marched off, hands clasped at the small of her back.

Half an hour later, the troops began to putter in, looking sweaty and tired. Errol, on the other hand, looked well rested and quite refreshed. She stands up from the random lawn chair she had managed to produce with a clap on her thighs.

“Ah yes, my little gizka. Perhaps next time you’ll remember to keep your trap shut.” She claps her hands together and then gestures to a table full of water bottles. “Hydrate yourselves and take a few moments to catch a breather while I explain today’s training.” Gratefully, the men stampeded over to the table and drank as they turned to focus on their Captain.

Once she was confident she held the men’s attention, she gestured behind her to the open desert where barricades were set up. “Today’s scenario, gentlemen, is a small scale riot. Now, as I am sure you’re aware, sometimes our leaders make decisions that are not popular with the general populace. For example, putting down a group or sect of people because they feel they’re no longer relevant and pose a threat.”

She clenches her fists behind her back and takes a deep breath before continuing. “Other examples are changes to laws, or tax raises that the local populace doesn’t agree with. Sometimes, this causes such dissent, that locals will arm themselves and revolt. They’ll take to the streets, gunning down anyone they perceive as a threat or opposition. Anyone they think is supporting the leadership.” Errol pauses to make sure the men were registering so far. Pleased with their responses, she continued. “It’s in these scenarios which men like you and I are called into action to protect not only the leadership, but the law abiding citizens in harm’s way. So today’s exercise is two fold. One; put down any violent rioters. Two; protect and avoid civilian casualties.

“Things can get pretty hectic.” She continued. “Sometimes you don’t always have a clear shot at a target because they are using a hostage. In that case, you need to use your better judgement. Sometimes it is better to let the target go than risk the life of an innocent bystander. Sometimes it’s not. Today’s trial won’t put you through that, however. Just don’t shoot civilians, yeah?”

With that, she waves the group over. Beyond the barricades which were meant to simulate buildings and kiosks, was an array of droids. Skytroopers, target dummies, and protocol droids. The men seemed a bit confused for a moment and looked towards Errol for explanation.

“Alright, mites. Here’s the scoop. I had some defunct Skytroopers shipped here and repaired with training protocols. The Ras was kind enough to loan us some of his outdated protocol droids, and I bought some training droids. I think they’re defunct HK models…. ANYWAYS.” She claps her hands again. “The Skytroopers represent heavy duty rioters who may take more than a few shots to take down. The training droids are standard folk who are just dumb enough to try and fight with no training. And the protocol droids represent civilians.

“NOW. I have programmed these droids to shoot at you.” There were gasps and murmurs amongst the men. “Oh stop it.” Errol waved a hand. “They’re programmed to shoot weak bolts at you that’ll feel no more painful than a punch. The point is, don’t get shot. If you get hit in the chest or head, you’re down. And I’ll know who because it’ll hurt.”

Errol’s grin widened as a collective gulp rippled through the company. “These barricades represent buildings and kiosks you’d likely encounter out in town. Use them for cover while you wait for an opening. And DONT,” She stressed, “Shoot any civilians. These droids are on loan from the Ras with the strict understanding that any damages will be paid for out of the Commander’s pocket. I really don’t want to deal with his rage when he finds out what I’ve done behind his back if one of those droids get destroyed. Because then I’ll take it out on you.”

“You have two minutes to get into position. Starting… NOW.” And with that, the men scurried off to find a place to hide from incoming fire. Or at least tried. Several ran into one another trying to get to spots, others tried to cram too many into one spot.

By the time the scenario began operating, only three quarters of the company were behind solid cover. Immediately, three individuals were tagged in the head or chest by incoming fire. Errol used the force to pull them to safety while the remainder of the troops continued the exercise.

Several managed to adapt to the situation remarkably well, almost as though they had had training before. Errol made a point of taking note of who they were to pass along to Lapold. Others seemed to struggle, but she hadn’t expected a well oiled machine. This drill was to see where the men stood and what needed to be worked on most. A couple panicked. They had either hid behind cover, cowering the whole time, or would pop up, spray and pray, and then hide again. Errol also took note of who they were, so that she could make recommendations and pull them aside for personal tutoring if necessary.

Finally, at the end of the hour long session, the “rioters” were down, more than half the company had “survived” and only a few “civilians” had tragically lost their lives. Luckily, she had been joking about Lapold having to pay for them. Mostly. Errol was mildly impressed. The company had fared better than she had been expecting, though not as good as she would have liked. Still, she was proud of them and called them all over for post-scenario debrief.

“Alright, everyone. Take a knee and put your safeties on.” She stood in the center as they all formed a half circle around her, ready to listen to what she had to say. “I’m honestly impressed with you lot today. You did much better than I had expected. But you still have a long way to go. So I’m going to address what went wrong first, and how to improve, then tell you all what you did right so we end on a high note. Hmm?

“Now,” Errol had begun when suddenly the sound of a weapon firing echoed through the field. Suddenly, there was a searing pain in the Captain’s gut. It took a moment for her to register what had happened and the congregation sat there silently, looks of pure shock and terror on their faces.

From his office window, Lapold had looked up just in time to see the events unfolding in slow motion. One moment, Errol had been addressing the men, the next, a stray blaster bolt whizzed by and pierced through her abdomen, just below her ribs. He was on his feet in an instant, rushing to the scene.

Errol looked over to where she had suspected the blast had come from, to see a cadet holding his weapon, looking petrified. “I-I’m sorry, Captain. I… I was trying to turn the safety on and hnng--” His words were cut off as Errol reached out with the force and began to choke him.

Finally, the men had snapped out of it and one stood and rushed off, shouting behind him. “I’ll go get the Commander!”

“GET A GODS DAMNED MEDIC. I CANT HEAL MYSELF.” Errol roared, tightening her grip on the cadet’s throat. Her free hand gripped the hole in her gut that had gone clear through. Bad day for her to have chosen her Scion’s gear over armor.

Lapold rounded the corner as Errol was shouting, medic already in tow. The man had impeccable timing, Errol thought to herself as the pair rushed over to her. Lapold placed his hand on her outstretched arm, gently trying to lower it.

“Captain, let the cadet go. You need medical attention.” His voice was soothing, at least to her.

“No shit, sir.” Came her response through gritted teeth. “Choking the everloving life out of this buffoon is the only thing keeping me from collapsing right now.”

“Let go.” Lapold repeated himself firmly. “I will deal with his punishment while you’re treated.”

Errol didn’t want to let go. She wanted to wring the life out of the little fool with all of Tyth’s rage. She wanted to snap his little neck. But alas, her injury finally took its toll and weakly, she released the young private before crumpling into a heap on the ground.