The Power of Ten

Chapter 6-169 - Fitting in a Hag Somehow...

“You’re Private Samantha Blakhamar?” he demanded, grimacing slightly. He also hated special cases who couldn’t use decent weapons, and this group had three of them!

“Sir, reporting as ordered, sir!” she replied blithely, clearly not afraid of him in the slightest.

“Sergeant Esther!” The tall and statuesque blonde, actually wearing a chestplate and greaves over her uniform, stepped up. “You’ve got the special cases here, while I work with the others on the rest of them.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” she replied calmly, also clearly unimpressed by the man who had one more stripe than she did. Grumbling, he began to split the rest of the girls up and send them over to the tables to be issued their firearms.

The Valkyrie looked them over calmly, her blue eyes lingering on two Hagchildren, of all things, and feeling a faint animosity rising inside her as she thought about their ancestry. The instant amusement that rose in the blonde’s eyes showed she had noticed, and Sergeant Esther stuffed it back down professionally.

“Amazon. Private Nihala?” she asked the Hispanic beauty there, who almost sighed in relief. The rivalry between Valkyrie and Amazon existed, but it was largely friendly, as they had different duties and drives to fulfill.

Nihala confirmed her identity crisply, back on solid ground. Sergeant Esther went on, “We have Amazon bows built to your strength, let me walk you over there. What about the two of you? I’m afraid I have no knowledge of the preferences of Hagchildren.”

“Sergeant, I also use a bow for ranged combat. I use the spear for closer work, sir,” Lily responded calmly.

The Valkyrie’s eyes lit up. All Valkyrie were spear-users. “Excellent. I look forward to sparring with you. And you, Private Sama?”

“Sir, ranged combat, crossbow. Melee weapon, Sword.”

“Ah. The assessment we have rates you highly proficient in both-?”

“Sir, I taught Lily her spear and open hand techniques. In terms of proficiency, I probably rate around the best in both crossbow and sword in the country, if not the world.”

Sergeant Esther raised an eyebrow at that calm claim, and even Nihala couldn’t help but look over in astonishment. “Those are some proud words, Private,” she noted. “Are you sure you don’t want to take them back?”

The witch-eye moved very little, but it was like the snap of a steel door clamping down, and Sergeant Esther blinked despite herself as some very, very clear danger signals went off. Those were not the eyes of an arrogant poser; they were eyes of someone who had killed things, very dangerous things, and simply were not impressed by her in the slightest.

This new recruit was incredibly dangerous. All her instincts were screaming at her to step carefully, and as someone who’d had to vet a lot of annoyed and talented Powered having to go through this training, she listened to those instincts in order not to piss people off and cause accidents to happen.

Powered were notoriously high-strung and temperamental, especially when first introduced to a foreign disciplined setting after they’d had a standard childhood where they’d been gushed over, pampered, and endlessly praised. All of the enlisted and officers for the Special Division were also Powered, most of them chi-users or Warlocks, and able to deal with temper tantrums with brutal discipline if necessary.

This woman wasn’t a magic-slinger or chi-user. This young woman was an experienced killer, not someone posing at the trade.

“You’ve had a lot of real-world combat experience, Private Sama?” Sergeant Esther asked curiously.

The response was almost frightening, as the recruit grinned widely, showing four pairs of canine teeth. “Not nearly enough, Sergeant, not nearly enough.”

The answer was so genuine the Valkyrie even forgave the lapse in protocol. “We still have to assess you properly, Private,” she said firmly, despite growing misgivings about what she was dealing with.

“Sir, I understand. Just do your job, and I’ll get myself assessed, sir.”

“Do you need to pick out a crossbow, Private?” Sergeant Esther asked.

“Sir, I have my Crossbow and Sword with me at all times,” Private Sama informed her politely.

She’d already demonstrated she was wearing a Masspack that could fit a full carry-pack inside it. Sergeant Esther eyed it carefully. “Does that really weigh two hundred pounds, Private?” she asked.

Sama worked her shoulders, dropped it free, and the Valkyrie narrowed her eyes at how it fell and hung in her gasp, how the sinewed arms lifted it up and held it out to her.

She reached out for the straps, bracing herself... and half-cursed as her arm fell despite itself, dragging the Masspack to the ground before she could stop it.

Visibly tensing, the muscles in her arms rolling under the pale skin, she lifted it up and slowly flexed once.

It was closer to three hundred pounds...

She handed it back silently, and said no more, getting a grip on this recruit’s character. She wouldn’t say anything she couldn’t back up, that was obvious.

“Well, come with me and draw bows and ammunition, and we’ll test out your range and accuracy...”

---------

“Officer’s school.” Sama was amused despite herself, and it showed. Sergeant Esther was treating this very seriously, so Sama toned it down, but her answer was fairly obvious.

“You know you would be a first. The first Hagchild in West Point,” the Valkyrie pressured her softly. “Furthermore, the number of cadets admitted who are not Powered is almost non-existent now, yet you are able to completely dominate all the Powered in your class.”

Sama’s melee combat ability was absolutely no joke, and none of the instructors, including Esther herself, could deal with her if Sama put any effort into the fighting. Lily alone could push the best of them, and obediently followed Sama around like a puppy. If any of the recruits got uppity, impromptu hand-to-hand combat training classes promptly ensued, they were brutally beaten to a pulp, healed up, beaten again, and the cycle continued until their attitude improved.

Class F-2011-3 of Company Hera had remarkably few discipline problems. The two werewolves cringed whenever Sama glared at them, and the werebear was VERY respectful after being pummeled unconscious... while in bear form. It was not even a choice on who was the leader of the class, as nobody even dared speak up in the face of Sama’s domination.

“I understand your reasoning and desire for the recommendation. I am completely capable of filling the duties and obligations of an officer,” Sama finally answered, her demeanor of command leaving Sergeant Esther wondering which of the two of them was in charge.

“However, military service is not my ambition. Military service is an undesired interruption to what I want to do with my life, and I am discharging it with much internal grumbling. I have things I want to do that being stuck in military service is not allowing me to do. You could say my attitude is closer to these Powered nitwit peers of mine, except far more violent and aggressive.”

“You... want to fight?” the Valkyrie asked, blinking.

“Yes. I have an aggressive mean streak a mile wide, long, and deep, Sergeant. I want to fight. I want to pound on steel, and then I want to pound on things bigger than I am. Military service does not allow me to do that.” The sergeant looked at her in some disbelief. “Military service involves standing around until someone less competent up the ranks wants to send you out to beat on things they want beaten on which they can’t handle themselves, on command, good doggie, do what I tell you to do. The military would prefer I sit and lounge around rather than proactively go find things to beat up and administer the lesson that humanity is not made up of peasants and prey anymore.

“While going for an officer’s commission is an honorable career choice, it is basically an indolent waste of time, and requires wasting four years of that time!

“I categorically refuse. I have a ton of uppity shit to kill, and the military doesn’t let me do it at the pace I want to.”

Sergeant Esther’s mouth opened and closed. She’d heard about battle-crazy, but that was why people joined the military, not why they stayed away from it! As a Chooser of the Slain, she was very sensitive to those whose lives were in danger, which made Valkyries the premier shield-maidens, always being in the right place at the right time to save people.

This young woman wasn’t in any danger of death. If anything, the ominous feeling welling up inside her was because anyone facing her was dancing on the edge of death...

She’d met Senior Powered before, and none of them gave her a feeling like this. This young woman was simply the most lethally dangerous person she’d ever met!

And she was going through Basic Training. It was a farce on the face of it!

“I think only the most special of special teams would be able to satisfy you, and maybe not even then... as they only get dispatched for special situations, not constantly,” she had to say.

“That is correct. I’ve got siblings serving in them. They occasionally get involved in fun stuff, but much too infrequently, given their occupation.”

Sergeant Esther sat back, pondering what to do here. She finally realized that she was basically deciding the duties of someone far more competent and dangerous than herself, and she needed to step carefully. Making use of a recruit’s talents was part of her job, of course, but the recruit here was fully aware of her value... and wanted to make better use of it than the military would allow her to.

“What are your intentions in this matter, then?” she asked professionally, deciding that treating this young woman as a peer or even a superior was probably the wisest move. Someone who could thrash her in a fight should generally be treated that way...

“Assign me to an infantry company with a high rate of actual combat duty, the more the merrier. I’ll serve my time, beat up whoever comes to get beat up, muster out, and then be about proactive hunting once again.”

Esther found herself wondering, and couldn’t help but ask, “You talk like someone who has fought some very dangerous things, Corporal.”josei

DAMN, that was a lethal smile. All killing hunger and ready for more. Those eight canines looked like the teeth of a steel trap, poised to go for the throat! “And looking for more, Sergeant, and looking for more!” Sama grinned happily.

“Since you won’t take a commission, your skill allows us to waive certain restrictions and give you a Warrant Officer special status for the term of your service. Would that be acceptable?”

“I’m not going to turn down having fewer people to say ‘sir’ to, Sergeant,” she smiled back cheerfully.

“Are... you a Warlord?” Sergeant Esther blurted out suddenly, and Sama lifted an eyebrow back at her. “We’ve noticed you have The Voice. When you start cursing out the recruits during target practice, their accuracy improves a good ten percent. They respond to your orders as if properly seasoned for it, whereas they still think about orders when they come from others,” the sergeant explained hastily.

Warlords were dream commanders for army troops. A whole company could fight harder, better, and longer with a Warlord at the command helm!

“Yes, I’ve two Levels in it.” Which allowed direct command and an aural boosting effect to about forty people, plus ten times their Charisma modifier. Nobody knew exactly what Sama’s Stats were, other than the fact she was at least a Six, stronger than an ogre, and didn’t seem to get tired. The other recruits were all dead envious of her, until they realized she was just that far above them, and resentment turned to admiration for someone higher-Leveled, and a burning desire to get as good as she was.

Her willingness to thrash them all repeatedly only seemed to be stirring them up even more, and caustically telling them to throw their guns at the target to improve their accuracy ratings only made them shoot better. When someone can pull out the most advanced Crossbow they'd ever seen and shoot better than you could with a modern firearm, it really did seem to motivate some people...

“I can’t tell where you’ll be assigned, as the Army sends you where they need you. But the Warrant Officer ranking is as good as done.”

“Then I’ll be looking forward to my first posting,” Sama nodded amiably, clearly not at all stressed about it. It was expending two years of her life for her civic duty; she was expecting to get remarkably little out of it.