Charlie hated being called to her uncle's office. It was worse than when she was called into the school office for not doing homework. Ever since she had gotten to her teenage years, not getting in trouble had gotten a lot harder. And since her father was often working with Uncle Bass, she often had to see her uncle for punishment. The fourteen year old hated every second of it.
This was the worst part of all of it. The time when she had to wait for her uncle to actually come in and talk to her. Charlie had already been waiting for nearly half an hour when Uncle Miles finally opened the door. "I am currently trying to plan a war campaign, Charlie," he stated. "I don't have time to deal with delinquents."
"I'm not a delinquent," Charlie huffed.
"OH really? Then what are you? Because no family member of mine gets in trouble for brawling in the streets for the fourth time this week. And neither do any members of my Militia."
"I can be a good recruit," Charlie insisted. "It was the boy that started it."
"Charlie, since the day you came here you have insisted that you want to be Militia."
"That's right," Charlie agreed proudly.
"I have built this Militia up from the very ground. And I have hand picked every officer in power. I write the rules, I give the commands and I know what is expected of all of them. And if you want to be part of Militia, you will learn to control your anger."
"It wasn't my fault!"
"Did that boy put his hands on you?"
Charlie looked down. "No, sir," she admitted sullenly.
"Then why were your hands on him?"
"He's an asshole?"
"Language."
"Sorry, sir."
"Charlie," Miles sighed. "You cannot be doing this. It looks bad for you, for me, for your dad and even for Bass. Now if you can't respect the Militia uniform, you will not be wearing one."
Charlie's eyes widened. "I can be a good recruit. Just give me a chance," she begged.
"I hear of you picking fights just once more and I will ban you for life," he warned.
"I won't fight ever again," Charlie swore. "The only punch I will throw is in self defense."
"It'd better be. Now I run my Militia on discipline and honor. You know what that means?"
"You're going to tell dad what I did and then punish me," Charlie sighed.
"I am going to punish you," Miles agreed. "But you will be telling your father. That's the honor part of being a recruit."
"Alright."
"Good girl."
"So what's my punishment?"
"You'll spend the next month volunteering all your free time at the hospital. The intensive units. Maybe then you'll understand why we can't have hotheads in the Militia. Understood recruit?"
"Yes, sir."
Miles smiled fondly at his niece. "You really did quite a number on that boy."
Charlie tried to smile despite the bruise on her cheek. "I did pretty good, didn't I?"
"You'd best any of my first year recruits at hand to hand," Miles praised. "We get you a little training and you'll go far. Especially in the Militia."
Charlie looked like nothing could possibly make her happier. She would be just like her uncle one day. Maybe even Commanding General like he was. Because it was in her Matheson blood.