With hands clasped behind her back, Zee waited In the training room closest to her squad's quarters. The Fist, and she presumed the entire fleet had already jumped away from Lorocos.
It was one of many jumps that would take them to the nearest wormhole cluster that led to the fringes of Lorocan territory. As expected of a Lorocan warship, the jump was incredibly smooth, with only a faint ripple of spatial energy reaching her during the jump.
Without her potent sensory skill, she wouldn't have sensed the jump at all. Captain Tanra's hissing voice warning the crew of a jump had certainly helped as well. Pushing the distraction to the back of her mind, Zee turned her attention back to the training room.
Painted in all white, the room looked extremely plain. With a running track on the outside and gravity arrays on the inside, it was perfect to help keep soldiers in shape.
There were three such rooms aboard The Fist, each with dampening arrays to help soldiers train. There was even a training room to let soldiers practice their skills without wrecking anything. Getting access to that resource was much more difficult, requiring special permission and supervision to use.
Idly studying the two squads of naval soldiers hard at work training she waited patiently as the hour she gave her squad came and went.
"Are they coming?" Zee asked aloud. She wasn't talking to any of the naval soldiers doing PT nearby, instead, her attention was on a small shadow on the wall plating that just appeared.
Kur Zul phased out through the wall plating, looking like a ghostly apparition that was only vaguely humanoid. His ghostly form rippled as he spoke.
"No mistress, I don't believe they are coming. They are currently waiting in the training room on the far end of the ship," Zul replied.
"Of course they are," she sighed. This was her fault for being so vague. Zee hadn't specified which training hall they should meet her in, so of course they chose the one furthest away. Her eye twitched at the insubordination.
It looked like they wanted to do this the hard way. That was fine. She had prepared for this. It took her several minutes to cross the ship, upon which she entered the training hall her rebellious squad was in. Brick saluted her as she entered, mirth twinkling in the big lug's eyes.
"Here as ordered mam," he said.
With amusement gleaming in their eyes, the others followed suit, snapping off a haphazard Salut.
For her part, Zee gave no outward display of her annoyance.
"Sorry, I'm a late sergeant. It took longer than expected to get the supplies I needed from the quartermaster," Zee said.
With a flick of her wrist, space rippled, and a pile of heavy rucksacks clattered in a pile on the metal plating in front of her.
"Everyone grab a pack, on the double," Zee ordered, slipping on a heavy pack of her own.
Their displeasure was obvious, but refusing a direct order had serious consequences. A few days in the brig at the least.
She smiled as they reached down, their eyes widening at the weight of the packs.
One of the pilots, Tag was his name, swore under his breath as he hefted a pack.
"What is in this thing, rocks?" Tag asked.
She shook her head. "Sadly, there were no rocks aboard, but I found something better. The quartermaster had some tungsten they use for artillery shells lying around and was kind enough to let me borrow some," Zee said with a bright smile.
One of the soldiers looked a bit shaky under the weight.
"How do you expect us to carry these? We aren't combat cultivators, two are pilots," he said, gesturing to Tag who was swaying on his feet as he adjusted the pack on his back.
Zee was undeterred by the complaint. "Physical fitness is important in our line of work, regardless of whether you are a front-line fighter or not." She clapped her hands together," Enough chatter, it looks like everyone is ready. Let's start doing laps around the training hall. Any of you that I feel are not trying hard enough to keep up will be charged with insubordination," Zee said.
Having said her piece, she started jogging along the track that circled the hall. She was being a bit harsh, but so what? In the upcoming invasion, their lives depended on just how well-trained these people were. They might hate her for it, but dammit, she was going to whip them into shape whether they liked it or not.
It took a few seconds for them to follow, but they did. In the end, a bit of running was much more preferable to several days in the brig.
She kept up a punishing pace, her legs burning and sweat rolling down her back as they did laps. The only sound in the training hall was their heavy breathing and the rhythmic thuds of boots on the floor plating.
It took a lot to exhaust cultivator's middle E grade and above, hence why she stuffed the packs with such a heavy metal like tungsten. The heavyweight chafed at the straps over her shoulders and back, and made her legs burn, but she kept going.
Discipling the squad was all fine and dandy, but this was more for her own benefit. She was still far too weak for her own liking. She still had a lot to grow in terms of endurance and raw physical strength.
Doing this kind of training might not improve the numbers in her status, but experience proved just how much it helped.
As a peak E-grade cultivator, her body was already far stronger and faster than mortals. Still, that didn't mean she couldn't improve the good old-fashioned way. Everything from muscle mass, endurance, and eye-hand coordination could be improved with enough effort.
Over the next several hours, they jogged around the training hall, her pace unrelenting until everyone but Brick had either fallen to their knees and vomited several times, or their legs simply wouldn't carry them anymore. Only then did she come to a stop. Everything hurt, and she was drenched in sweat, but she had a good idea of their limits now. As expected, the pilots and the medics had collapsed first, with the others not lasting much longer.
Everyone was too exhausted to speak. The lughead Brick was pretending like he could keep going. Based on the big man's shaky legs, he wouldn't last much longer. She could go until he collapsed, but that would make him look bad. It was good to set an example, but not wise to make her second look weak.
Zee tugged off her heavy pack and dropped it with a loud clang to the floor.
"That will be all for the day. You are all dismissed. Get some food, clean up this mess, and rest. We will meet again here at the same time tomorrow," Zee said.
With that, she strode out the door, without so much as a glance back.
With the Ensign gone, Tag wiped his vomit from his lips. His chest heaved, that god-awful pack lying on the floor as he rose to his feet.
"Does she really expect us to do this again tomorrow?" Tag asked, staring at the door the red-haired officer left through.
"With that much weight, she is going to kill us," Genevia said, gasping for breath next to her twin Geleta.
Tag nodded. "You saw her at the end. She probably doesn't have nearly as much weight in her pack as we do," Tag said through ragged breaths.
Wanting to prove his hypothesis, he stumbled over. Swaying on his feet, Tag leaned down, grasping at the shoulder strap of the Ensign's discarded pack.
Tag nearly fell flat on his face as he strained to pick it up.
"Holy hell," Tag swore.
"What is it,Tag?" Brick asked, his large chest heaving with each breath.
"This pack weighs twice as much as mine," Tag swore, his back and arms straining as he picked it up.
Brick lumbered over and hefted it. The huge man tried to hide it, but Tag could see the flash of surprise in his eyes. The surprise quickly faded, replaced by his earlier disdain.
"So what if she has some muscle on her bones? She is still a spoiled blue blood who will get us all killed. Don't forget about the last officer they put in charge," Brick snarled.
Tag could have argued that their previous officer hadn't ever actually participated with them during drills, but Brick was right. If they didn't stay on guard, she would get more or them killed just like that rotten bastard Sanders did.
After listening to the squads' hushed conversation from out of sight in the hallway, Zee left.
So, that's how it was after all? It appeared they had already been burned by an upstart noble before, and now didn't trust her because of it.
That was okay, though. Trust was best to be earned, regardless.
Making her way down the narrow walkway, Zee smiled when a certain white-haired woman rounded the corner.
"You look exhausted," Zee said.
Allison wiped the sweat from her forehead, resting one hand casually on the pommel of her sword out of habit.
"You don't look much better. I heard you were promoted to officer. How's your new squad treating you?" Allison asked, eying the rank pinned to Zee's chest with amusement.
"They are a stubborn lot. They collapsed after only two hours of light jogging. It's going to be a pain to whip them into shape," Zee grumbled. "How is your squad?"
Allison brightened. "For the next few months, I am trying out for the star team. Turns out anyone in the Navy can apply. I hear it's a brutal selection process, but I think it's my best chance to push my skills forward. Anyone can sign up, so I figured, why not?
I have only trained with them for a few hours, but I can tell they are something else. Even at my best, I can't keep up with the worst of them," Allison said, scratching the back of her head sheepishly.
Zee whistled softly.
"Now that is impressive. I wish I could join you, but I have other things on my plate. Still, I would like to meet them sometime," Zee said hopefully.
Allison patted her on the shoulder.
"Maybe some other time, I'm just a trainee at the moment. Anyway, I have to go. We are starting the real training in an hour, and I'm starving," Allison said, hurrying past her and down the hallway.
Zee could only sigh at the revelation. Of course, Allison got to do something cool like try out for an elite strike force. The others still hadn't replied to her messages on her comm crystal, so they were doubtless busy as well.
Well, nothing to be done about it. Everyone had their own stuff to deal with, and it's not like she could just laze about either. She was an officer now and needed to cook up a way to get her rebellious squad into fighting shape. Not just that, she was going to turn them into the best damn squad aboard this ship, even if she had to do it by sword point.
First things first, some food, then some rest. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day. She had surprisingly edible food from the mess before finding her way to her quarters via the new crystalline card given to her.
As an officer, she was given her own quarters, with a small bed, and several compartments to stow her things. Calling it spacious would be a gross overstatement, but at least she had privacy. It was smaller than most broom closets she had seen, but still, it was a lot better than sharing a bunk with her distrustful squad.
First off, this way she could rest without worrying about getting her throat cut in the middle of the night. Oh, and the small shower that was embedded in the wall. That one commodity made the whole officer thing almost worth it. Her own personal shower with arrays to heat the water.
Scrubbing the sweat from her body, she tucked into bed, drifting off into a deep meditation. As if coming to her beck and call, a flood of spatial attuned energy buffeted her. A smile tugged at her lips. Now this was another sweet bonus of being aboard a ship traveling through space. Not even the warships' arrays could fully block out the world river, and it was exactly what she had been hoping for.
Zee still had sixteen inner gates to go until she opened all sixty, and had been hoping to use the long journey to crack them open. Much to her delight, her plan was feasible. A veritable torrent of spatial-attuned energy bombarded her senses, so much so that she had to block most of it out.
The others would have a hard time cultivating in this space-attuned environment, but Zee was right at home. Her strongest affinity was space, so why not take advantage of this?
As it always did, time passed in a blur during her meditation and she woke up with a start. As she drew her attention from the storm in her inner world, a mental poke stabbed into her mind.
"Stop that! I'm awake," Zee grumbled, sitting. She groaned, her legs aching from the day before.
"Had to make sure," Dern said, amusement in his voice.
Standing, she stretched, her back cracking audibly.
"Carrying that weight sucked," Zee said.
"You meat bags are all too soft. It was just a bunch of metal bricks. How bad could it be?" Dern asked.
"If it's so easy, perhaps you should join us today," Zee suggested.
"Now that sounds just dreadful. Joining a bunch of smelly humans running in circles sounds worse than watching paint dry. Besides, I have better things to do," Dern said.
"Like what?" Zee asked.
There was a pregnant pause.
"Okay, maybe I don't, but that doesn't mean I'm going to waste my time on a bunch of no-good trainees," Dern said.
Zee only rolled her eyes.
"Stop your bellyaching. If I have to do this, then so do you," Zee said, finality in her voice.
"Fine," Dern grumbled, unhappily.
With her grumpy passenger dealt with, Zee dressed in a clean combat uniform from her time at the academy and headed to the training hall.
Time to whip them into shape.