When I arrived at the training ground inside the battleship, the other students and Old Man Huma were already there. I’d taken my time changing out of my work clothes, so it looked like I was the last one to show up. I made it just under the wire, though. Safe.
I silently slipped into the back of the line. Right on the dot, Old Man Huma opened his mouth. He was certainly punctual.
"Right. I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to be teaching a bunch of officer cadets, but for now, we’ll start with the basics."
I figured as much.
"First, your attire."
Is it going to be that? I wondered. Like a crooked badge or something? If so, we were fine. We at least had that part down; Major Piggett had hammered it into us.
"Front row, you’ve all failed. Go back to your rooms and get your Portable Shields."
"Huh?"
A Portable Shield was a deployable barrier. It could withstand about three shots from a handgun, or a single high-output rifle shot. It was standard-issue equipment for the Imperial Army—the kind of thing you’d carry as a lucky charm when you knew you were facing beam weapons.
However, they were useless against Zorks. Zorks relied on brutal physical strength, and a little light barrier wasn't going to stop them.
"You must carry a Portable Shield at all times," Huma continued. "For example, it allows for strategies such as throwing a grenade at an ally who has successfully lured the enemy in."
"Excuse me?"
A truly unhinged statement had just left his mouth. That was the absolute peak of insanity.
"This was a tactic born in the field. It’s how we pirates have managed to survive our encounters with the Zorks."
It was the pinnacle of disregarding human rights. Besides, even with a shield, there was no guarantee you wouldn't die. In fact, you’d probably die quite often. And would that even work on a Zork?
"Don't worry. The grenade is just the igniter; we pack explosives around the target area. The number of fatalities is surprisingly low."
Which means people HAVE died, right?
"Anyone else without a shield, go get one now!"
The boys dashed off. Most of the girls, interestingly enough, happened to already have theirs on them. As for me—a man constantly terrified of being assassinated—I had mine as a matter of course.
I had missed my chance to slip away.
"...Why are you still here?" Old Man Huma asked, finally noticing me.
"I'm a student."
"No, no, no. You're a Captain, aren't you? An officer?"
"It was a reward for recapturing the Imperial Capital, apparently. It's mostly just a title."
My salary had actually gone up, but my position was still on the front lines. No one actually expected me to act like a Captain.
"Even so, you don't need my training!"
"Ehh..."
"Anyway, just go watch from the back!"
Ordered to observe in strangely polite language, I went to the corner and sat down with my knees pulled up to my chest. I decided to spend the time sulking.
Once the boys returned with their shields, the training began in earnest. He could have just told us to bring them from the start, but I suppose he just wanted to emphasize the importance of always carrying them. I thought there might be some physical "discipline" involved, but instead, he just started lecturing.
"Now, for shield usage. Draw a weapon—an axe or a sword, I don't care which."
As expected, there weren't any idiots who had forgotten their weapons. Most of them had their standard-issue swords.
"Now, charge in with the intention of taking two or three hits. That's all."
Just as I thought... He was a pure muscle-brain.
One of the more troublesome boys raised his hand, asking with a smug look on his face, "Sergeant! I have a question. The Captain is able to dodge beams after they’ve been fired. What are your thoughts on that?"
Don't drag me into this, you moron!
"Er... Captain. Would you mind demonstrating for a moment?" Huma asked, looking troubled.
I sighed and stood in front of the boy who had asked the question. Good grief.
"This isn't out of some daily grudge or anything... Captain, please lend us your expertise!"
"Your true feelings! They're leaking out!"
"Here I go! Men, to arms! Lay into him!"
The moment the boy shouted, the group of boys formed a line in front of me. Then, they all opened fire at once.
"Hey, you bastards! You're really going to do this?!"
I began weaving through the beams.
"Shut up! This is the only way we’ll ever get one over on you!"
Melissa, watching from the side, looked absolutely delighted. "Ahahaha! I’m jumping in too!"
She drew her katana and charged toward the boys. She was using the lowest output, Stun Mode. You wouldn't die if you got hit, but still—who does that? Idiots, that's who.
"Damn it! How can you dodge light?!"
"Because you're stupid! I’m predicting the trajectory based on where you're looking!"
I dodged a volley and closed the distance with one of them, spinning behind him and grabbing him as a hostage.
"Alright, alright! Go ahead, try and shoot me now! Hyah-ha!"
"Guh... face the blow of justice!"
"Don't call your jealousy justice!"
"Quiet! I don't care! I'm shooting!"
The boy I was holding as a hostage suddenly screamed, "Shoot through me!"
Is he actually insane?
The others actually did it—they fired right at their own teammate. I shoved the hostage toward them and let him take the hits. He went down, though he was only stunned.
Then, Melissa suddenly blurred into motion, appearing behind me at high speed. "Nyahahaha!"
She began delivering back-of-the-blade strikes in rapid succession. Melissa... you’re just using me as a shield, aren't you?
After that, it was a massacre. I didn't even give them a chance to draw their swords. I just beat them to a pulp with my own blade, swinging away in Back-of-the-blade Mode. By the time I was finished, the entire group was groaning on the floor.
"Go... God is dead..." one of them muttered.
"Shut up."
As the idiots groaned, Huma stepped in to give his critique.
"And that was a perfect example of what not to do. This is what happens when you rely solely on guns. It’s the same when you're fighting Crabs. You're much safer charging in with a shield."
"But Sergeant! How are we supposed to fight a freak who dodges beams?"
"Surround them and crush them with the violence of numbers. Don't panic; just narrow down their range of movement, corner them, and stop them with a tackle. Alright, everyone gather 'round. We're going to practice the basics of group combat. The Captain and the girl over there can take a break."
"Okaay."
I sat in the corner with Melissa. Old Man Huma was actually surprisingly sensible. His teaching was sound—it was exactly the kind of stuff we were lacking. Having someone translate what we'd learned in the chaos of real combat into actual training theory was vital.
I watched the boys struggle through their drills. Wait, I really don't have to do it?
I looked at Melissa.
"I think you're fine as you are, Leader," she said. "You already know your role. You charge in and throw the enemy's formation into total chaos. That's really all we need from you."
What a terrible thing to say.
And so, my days of training and part-time electrical work began. After a long stretch of days where food was the only source of entertainment, the outer shell of the colony was finally complete.