Zione didn't hold back one iota.
Especially against one if her own betas. Reach would feel the bruises tomorrow, but he felt nothing but pride taking the beating. She was strong, and therefore he was being made stronger.
They always sparred with such ferocity, the alpha and her general. None of the other males fought the same way as Zione, not that that was a bad thing. But this one fought like she did, with the full impression of practicing like it was real. Oh, it was a careful spar - they had claws back like in the rules, and rules about their teeth and bite pressure; rules for mimicking attacks and rules for accidental injuries, rules for all scenarios, they liked to claim to anyone who would try to get a word in about the way they did it.. But in reality it was barely held restraint for a friend that made the fighting - the training - fun with Reach especially. Of course, she tested all of them regularly, and some of her next-in-command even came back for second helpings.
Hand-picking them was the best decision she had made, considering they had never complained about the way she did things. She trusted everyone of them and they held her in equally high regard. She was nothing like her predecessor.
"Too slow!"
Reach crashed to the ground with a tangle of limbs as his alpha tricked him with a jump shot straight down onto his head. It was her signature move, the pounce~ But she always made her strategy for it different. There was never a way to predict where it would come from or when it would come ..or even a seeming pattern to it at all to try to learn how she did it.
"Always guard your head! Keep one eye on your opponent at all times!"
She drilled it into his head as she fought him, and he had progressed far from his former skill. He still could never manage to get the upper hand however and overpower her for the "kill". He got points now and then - Zione had a scar to prove it, from before they had established the rules, running down the length of her shin and calf from top knee to almost outside edge of her ankle. That's why they used their pads only, generally in slaps. Their claws were kept sharp, after all. They were their tools and weapons.
Leaping clear of him to give a short time for getting his feet back under him, she circled and snarled. Working on him within their language to give him edge and act as the enemy.
*Fight me, soft-heel! Numb-claw! You remind me of my mother's scat, too daft to know the rear end it came out of! You're worse than a moose, sitting back there and pretending to defend yourself because you're too scared to fight! Coward! Dung eater! Fight me!! FIGHT ME!*
He didn't give into the attempt at bait, having been trampled enough times to know better than to fight like that. She did the same for all of them, now and then, but he the most. Giving in to anger at insults was only a way for the enemy to take advantage of mindset and gain the upper hand. But that didn't stop him from grinning a fool's grin to bait her in response, and spout some nonsense of his own. It was a part of their fun as much as their mental conditioning.
*You think attacks are all you need, but I have patience. My alpha has taught me better than you can hope to break me, with your dusty words. I laugh in your face, urine-for-brains, you can never hope to defeat me! I stand with and for my pack!*
Zione returned the grin, switching back into words. "Good! Honor, courage, and bravado! Strength of the Pack! You are their General!"
She leapt at him again, but this time swiping at his feet. He counter-leaped nimbly out of her reach, reaching out to slap her on the back full-force with his palmar pad as he spun over it. Zione called out "POINT" and they laughed as she crumpled onto the floor. When he tried to turn the tide against her though, she wasn't there. Reach always seemed to marvel at his alpha's speed, even when he only did so in his mind.
Suddenly, a voice bellowed out at them.
"EXPERIMENT 1009-Z, 998-R! REPORT TO HEAD KEEPER!"
At the open entrance of the bare white Gymnasium, a guard in a uniform of black Ultra Kevlar stood with a clipboard. After the initial sealing of their vault so many years ago, the military had taken up the duty of many roles within the now-secluded community. Though only they ever carried guns still. Old habits died hard, Zione guessed.
"All right Clyde! We heard you!"
The guardsman grinned under his helmet, but training didn't allow him to speak anymore than he was required. The two combat partners took little time to end the session and calm the nerves that shook with unused energy in gender-separated showers. It was why their fights were so refreshing - they always had so much energy to burn due to their nature. Neither of them blamed Clyde for the abrupt end.
"All right, lead the way~"
Once they had both emerged clean and in clean clothes -hygiene equals health!- and Zione had spoken, their guard stepped to the side and pointed for them to do so themselves. Clyde had put away his smile, but his eyes spoke of simple kinship. They knew he just had to do things the Right Way, and he knew they wouldn't ever dream of trying to spook him by walking behind him. They three were all warriors.
They did, chatting and laughing now easily. The same age, or as close to it as they knew, even in the same batch of experiments, Zione was perhaps closer in a way to Reach than any of her other betas. He never had an unkind word, and his was too simple to ever get in a quarrel. Zione's intelligence was almost literally off the research charts, but he knew wisdom instinctively and he could tell who the better leader was. So he never bothered to vie for dominance with her either, but oftentimes was he had wondered if perhaps they could might be more than friends. But Friends was also enough for him, and that's likely why Zione liked him the most too.
"He's in room 223 this time. Cafeteria."
Clyde directed them to Head Keeper for Batch "Alphabet", Mark Hawthorne, waiting for them in one corner of the room opposite the food service line with a sandwich. No one ever bothered to ask what the food was made of; limited supply meant no complaining in this compound. He was also suited in a black Ultra Kevlar set.
"Dr. Orange wants to see you. You're the last two to be gathered - the rest are there already."
Head Keeper Hawthorne grinned, but it wasn't a pleasant smile.