The commanding officer moved down the line, calling out names in no apparent order as he passed the ranks of new recruits.
"Buccaneer!"
"Sir!" The giant man replied, saluting. The others around him flinched slightly as he moved. Even the CO seemed a little jumpy, but he continued calling out names until he reached the end of the line.
"Armstrong, Oliver!"
Silence.
"Armstrong, Oliver!"
"It's Olivier, sir," said a smooth voice to his right.
The man looked up from his roster, a sharp reprimand already on his lips. But it died as soon as he looked into the coldest eyes he had ever seen. "Y-you're a girl."
Olivier kept her hand to her head in a salute, more out of self-restraint than respect, as she stared straight back at the man. "Women have been able to join the Amestrian army for several decades, sir." She was surprised to see that he did not miss the insulting tone in her voice. The man had appeared to have a head of lead. It was no wonder he wasn't able to rise beyond Major rank.
"Well, we'll see how long you last," he scoffed, and moved to the center of the troop. "Listen up princesses. I don't know why you're here, and I don't care. All I know is that by the end of this week, half of you will be back in your homes or dead. If you'd like, you can make the choice right now."
He fell silent to see if anyone would step out of line. It wouldn't be the first time. He could see the recruits looking at the woman from the corner of their eye. No one was going to quit before a girl.
"Very well. Your training starts now!" Several lance corporals appeared with various weapons. The Major continued speaking as they set up. "Each of you will be paired with one of your fellow recruits. You do not get to choose your weapon, you will be assigned one. Each fight will end when one of the sparring partners cannot continue or after three minutes. Killing your partner is discouraged, but not disallowed."
The men began to shift uncomfortably, all except Buccaneer who grinned, and the woman who remained as stoic as ever.
"You had your chance to run, princesses. This is the price you pay. Now, listen up! Miles, you're with Neil. Gregor, with Archer. Douglas, with Fessler. Armstrong, with Buccaneer."
The list didn't stop there, but Olivier no longer felt the need to listen. She didn't give her opponent the honor of looking at him as she walked over to the lance corporals to collect her weapon. They handed her two small knives.
Kunai, she thought. I didn't expect the military to train with Xingese weapons.
"What is this?!" came the booming voice of the bear-man to her right. She glanced over to see him holding two saws, like you might find at a carpenter's shop. "What the hell am I supposed to do with these?"
"I'm sure you'll find a use for them," the lance corporal said, not amused. "You're in ring number five. The bouts will begin in two minutes."
Olivier rolled her eyes and made her way to the fifth ring, which was nothing more than a circle carved into the dirt of the courtyard. She moved at a measured pace, weighing the pros and cons of the battle in her mind. He was significantly larger than she was, and his weapons had a greater reach. But hers could be thrown, and she was small enough to slip around him. If she threw her knifes then she would be disarmed; but his weapons would only do real damage if managed to catch her long enough to run the serrated blade along her skin; and she didn't intend to let him catch her.
She took up a medium stance at one side of the ring. The kunai felt awkward in her hands. She had never trained with them before, though she had once seen some visiting Xingese warriors demonstrate how they were used.
Buccaneer took his place at the other end of the ring, still glaring at the two saws in his hands. Olivier almost growled when he didn't look at her. She would teach him to underestimate her.
The major took his position in the center of the courtyard. "When the whistle sounds you have three minutes to disable your opponent. If no victor is found within three minutes then the bout will begin again with new weapons until a victor is found. The winners will fight the winners, while the losers go to the infirmary or crying back to their mothers. Take your places."
Olivier bent her knees, ready to move as soon as she heard that whistle. She could tell from his stance that Buccaneer was strongest on his right side, so she would move to the left. He still looked confused about his weapons, so it shouldn't be too hard to get behind him. Whether she would kill him or not when she got there was still up for debate.
Without any countdown, the whistle sounded. The moment Olivier moved, Buccaneer decided that he didn't need to worry about the stupid saws and threw them to the ground. He swung his left fist toward her instead. Olivier tried to move toward the edge of the ring to dodge, but only had time to think, he's so huge! before his fist connected with her head.
She didn't feel herself drop the kunai knives, or fall to the ground. But she did hear Buccaneer's voice just before the darkness claimed her. "Leave fighting to the big boys. It's time to go back to the kitchen, sweetheart."