Star Wars: Scars

Part 1 - 3

Then the Sergeant appeared from the doorway on the far right, stalking across the room stiffly with both hands clasped behind his back. He came to a dead stop in front of them all, his naturally keen and cruel gaze scanning the lot of them.

"Attention," he practically hissed.

90 snapped to attention where he stood as the other's fell into line beside him, all rigid as boards in a matter of seconds as they stood firmly at attention. Sergeant Dunn wasn't normally a man to be messed with, but in the mornings he was worse.

The Sergeant turned, beginning to pace in front of them all with the same stoic look etched on his face as he glared harshly ahead of himself, occasionally casting sharp looks at all the cadets.

"For those of you who successfully completed your training yesterday--," the Sergeant paused and 90 could feel the man's hot glare on him as he stood still, gazing ahead but avoiding any eye contact with the Sergeant until the man started speaking again, "--you will be moving onto Form Two sparring practice for the morning, and then Form Three this evening after lunch. Those of you who still have yet to finish will first complete yesterdays sparring session, then report to maintenance on the Medbay level for the remainder of the day," he snapped.

90 tried to keep his shoulders from sagging, knowing the punishment was for him. He knew it could be worse, and considering how early it was it was rare for Sergeant Dunn to go this easy, but regardless it obstructed his plans of slipping off after training to see Haze. He didn't let it show, though, and just offered a curt nod of acknowledgment.

"Yessir."

The Sergeant didn't answer or give him a look that time, just moved onto the next subject. "All of you will be tasked with wearing your sword sheath for the rest of your training time or until I determine so. You will sleep with it on, and you will not remove it for anything except medical reasons. As I stated yesterday, this sword is to become an extension of yourself. Not only will you need to know how to wield it, but you will have it with you at all time. It must never leave your side," he instructed.

There was a round of "yessir's" this time and the Sergeant stopped pacing, turning to face them. "Good. At ease now and fall in."

All of them relaxed some and 90 let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding as he marched silently into line with the other's as they lined up to leave. The Sergeant held his fist in the air until they were all ready and lined up, then he motioned them forward and they headed off towards the sparring rooms.

90 stayed in line until they reached the sparring rooms, then they lined up as they had the day before. 90 listened absently as the Sergeant repeated his instructions from the day before, reminding everyone that they were using Form Two and only Form Two today. 90 didn't pay terribly close attention, though, wondering how he was going to slip off from maintenance to see Haze. Talking to the older man and training with him sounded more appealing than cleaning the medbay. Plus, his leg was throbbing again. It hurt less than the day before and for the first time he remembered that he'd injured it. 90 glanced down some and felt his thigh, feeling the bandages still there. The pain was only a dull throbbing, however, and he was no little difficulty standing.

"ACT-90," the Sergeant suddenly barked, rougher than normal.

90 snapped his head up and stiffened to attention. "Sir."

"You will finish yesterdays sparring session. With me," the Sergeant instructed with a disdainful scowl.

90 nodded quietly and relaxed as the Sergeant motioned him to the remaining empty mat. Hesitantly, 90 walked to the opposite side of the mat. He wasn't sure how he was going to make it through a match with the Sergeant if he'd failed against one of his own batchmates the day before, but he stood in the ready position regardless.