Citadel (Book 1): Training in Necessity (21 page)

"Sir, I think I see what you're going for, but..."

"Something wrong?"

"Well, it's just, I'm not exactly comfortable with this."

Bruce cocked his eyebrow, it'd taken him a week to learn how to do that right.  "Go on, you won't get in trouble for speaking your mind here."

"Sir, right now...  Well, right now I either win or I don't.  There isn't a fight, it just comes down to whether or not I can hurt the other guy.  I mean, I knock them out instantly or I can't hurt them at all."

"I think you'll find that there are very few people that you can't hurt with that knife."

"Yes sir.  That's the problem.  This, this wouldn't be a fight at all.  I can't knock someone out with it, just cut them.  It'd be murder."

Bruce didn't answer, at first, giving the boy time to add anything else on his mind.

"Once you've got the anatomy stuff down, I'll start you on some training with a few restraint devices.  There's more than a few that are small enough for you to carry with you into your 'Still Time' effect."

"That's a little better, but... you still expect the knife to be my primary resource.  Otherwise you would've started me with those."

Bruce just nodded.

"I'll... I'll have to think about this.  I applied to the Citadel because I want to help people, not... not kill them."

If the boy couldn’t see the link between the two, it was probably better to let him figure it out on his own.  Otherwise, he’d never make it as an operative.

The Sparring Field

"Trainee Kelly."  Bruce greeted the young shape shifter.

"Sir." he replied.

"Figure out what you did wrong, during your last fight?"

Kelly blushed.  "Um, yeah.  Jim told me, right after I woke up, that I needed a vapor lock or a one way filter.  Something to keep the flame from, well... you know."

"Blowing up your head?"

"Yeah."

Bruce smiled.  "True, but not what I actually meant.  You had a good idea.  Incorporating inorganic materials and custom designing a body for combat, it's a good path for you.  I can help you get better at it, but that's not the only route to go."

"Sir?" Kelly asked, puzzled, "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Combat is a big part of what the Citadel does, but it's not everything.  Intelligence gathering, subterfuge, infiltration, we've got a need for all of it."  He gave the young man a serious look, "You're potential there is, well, it's frankly incredible."

"I... sir, I'd really rather not.  I know it seems strange for a shapeshifter, but I don't really like the idea of lying about who I am.  It's... it just..."  Kelly trailed off.

"Okay."  Bruce thought about it for a moment, hoping his power would engage, but got nothing.  He was better with power interactions and combat techniques, this personality stuff wasn't his forte.  "Well, as I said, you've got more than enough potential in the combat area."

"Thank you, sir."  He smiled, "Even with the, you know, exploding thing?"

"Yes."  Bruce laughed.  "Actually, that's a point in your favor.  Most of our candidates, most of our operatives for that matter, wouldn't have survived that."

"Thanks?"

"On that note, the mishap with your... exploding thing... wasn't what I meant when I said you went wrong."

Kelly's brow furrowed in confusion, "Then what?"

"The dragon form itself.  Before you got to that point, you could barely move.  Even leaving aside the fire problem, Trainee James probably would've won."

"I just needed more practice, sir.  I know I was a little clumsy, but-"

"Practice controlling a body that's so different from your normal one?  How long did it take you to get the hang of your bird form?"

"Almost a year."  Kelly said, quietly.

"And that monkey one?"

"My climbing form?  How did you...?"  Bruce just looked at him.  "It didn't.  Take any time, I mean.  I just made some adjustments to my normal body and..."

Bruce smiled.  "Exactly.  Your shapes, even the ones where you change your brain, don't come with their own set of instincts.  So, the further they are from human, the harder they're going to be to control."

"Well, yes sir, but if I don't make it something a bit more extreme than a regular human, I can't really stand up to the Strong types and stuff."

"Well, there's extreme and then there's improved."  He reached into the case and retrieved the items he'd set aside for Kelly.  "This is a mantis shrimp and this is a cone snail.  Take a good look at the joints on the shrimp and pay particular attention to the saddle shaped structure.  For the snail, study its venom production.

"Okay..."  Kelly had that puzzled look again.  Apparently he'd never heard of either creature.

"I'll send you some documents for some changes I'd like you to practice."

"Yes sir, I'll make sure to try them out."

"Kelly," Bruce said, his voice serious, "this is important.  Don't try any of them out unless I'm present.  Just visualize them, try to figure out any issues they might cause.  We can set up a time, later this week, to try them out but I want a Healer present and a safe sparring partner for you."

Kelly's eyes were wide with surprise.  "That seems a bit excessive, sir, but okay."

"Kelly.  The last time you made a mistake with a new form, you lost your head.  Trust me on this, some of this could go a lot worse."

Kelly swallowed.  "I understand sir."

Private Residence

Isaac closed his bedroom door and wandered towards the kitchen, lured by the unexpected aroma of coffee.

"Hector, is that you?" he called.

"Yeah man, in here.  Keep it down though, I think Kelly's still asleep." Hector replied, just a little louder than a whisper.

"Woops."  Isaac said, sheepishly, as he accepted a mug of coffee from the young man.  "Good to have you back."

Hector turned back to the stove top, where he'd been preparing a large breakfast, but not so fast that Isaac didn't catch the grin.

"Relieved that you won't have to rely on Adama's for your morning coffee anymore?"

A month ago Isaac would have shattered the mug in his hand.  Now, he just set it down and said, as calmly as he could manage, "No.  I haven't been to an Adama's in... in a while."

Hector looked over his shoulder, concerned.  "Are you-?"  Maybe not as calmly as he'd intended.  "Sorry, what'd I say?"

Isaac took a deep breath.  It wasn't the kid's fault.  "My wife and I," Hector set the spatula he'd been using on the kitchen counter and turned to face him, "a mutual friend set us up.  We met, for the first time, at an Adama's."  He smiled at the memory, a little surprised that it didn't hurt so much.

"After I graduated, I was working heavy hours and she was working on her doctorate and holding down a job."  Isaac took a sip of the coffee.  "It didn't leave us with much in the way of time for each other, even though we were living together."  The drink was sweet but dark, no cream.  When had Hector started making it just the way he liked it?  "So we got in the habit of meeting at the same Adama's.  Good thing it was across the street from my office or we wouldn't have been able to manage it."

Oh God.  Had he really just said that?

"Hey.  Hey Isaac, calm down man. It's okay."

"I was late.  I was always Goddamn late!"  The room was blurry but, his forehead, his power wasn't on.  "She was waiting for me... when they- when that careless fucking bastard-"

Kelly was coming down the steps, making sure to stomp hard enough that anyone in the living room or kitchen would hear him.  He'd walked in on enough people talking about him for one lifetime, now he was always careful to make sure they'd know he was coming.  When he got to the foot of the stairs he froze.

Hector was back, the first time Kelly had seen him outside of training since Saturday.  More importantly, Isaac was bent over the kitchen table, sobbing, a broken mug and spilled coffee on the floor around him while Hector tried to console him.

Nervous, unsure what to do, Kelly took the easy path.  Shifting back to her quieter form between steps, she crept back up the stairs without making a sound.

The Sparring Field

Bruce took a moment to review his notes and the next trainee's Empowerment evaluation.  While he was fiddling with his wrist communicator, his new assistant set up the silhouette targets and brought in the next cases he'd need.

"Should that be assistant or assistants?" Bruce muttered to himself.

The English language wasn't really suited to accurately describing powers or some of their ramifications.  Absently, he suppressed the urge to spend the rest of the day designing a new one.

"Ready sir." the nearest Hector said.

Bruce just nodded, rather than answering.

A short time later, "Instructor Bruce?"

"Mm?"  He glanced up at the girl, tall, scrawny, eyes too large and too wide set for her face.

"Is, uh, is this the part where you tell me my flight is actually based on gravity manipulation?  That I'm really one of the strongest Empowered in the class?" she asked, masking her desperate hope with a feeble attempt at humor.

If he hadn't read her psyche profile, he might have bought it.  Probably not.

"Are you actually expecting something like that?" he asked her.

Samantha lowered her head, failing to hide her face only because he was shorter than her.  "No sir.  I'm just a flier.  I know that."

"Trainee Soar, look at me."  He said sternly, not continuing until she had obeyed him.  "Understand this, there is no such thing as a Citadel candidate that is
just
anything."

She didn't answer.

"Earlier, I told your class that all of you had the potential to be among the best.  Did you think you were an exception?"

"No sir." she said, utterly lacking in conviction.

"Close your eyes."

"Sir, why-?"

"Stop talking.  I said close them." he cut her off.

She did it.

"I was the one who approved your application, so I know for a fact that you had full access to your Empowerment evaluation.  Don't speak, just nod your head."

She nodded.

"Did you read the portions concerning kinesthesia, proprioception and spatial awareness?"

She shook her head, trembling.

He sighed.  "Samantha, I don't do pep talks.  That's Director Shift's job, so we'll just have to give you a demonstration.  How many targets are in the room?"

She cocked her head.

Since she couldn't see it, he smirked.  "You can talk."

"Targets, sir?"

"The white papers with a black silhouette of a man on them."

"Nine, sir."

Good, she'd even spotted the one just above the door she'd come in from.  "Keep your eyes closed and give me your hand."

She reached out, her hand pointed directly towards him.

"This is a gun." he said, handing her a pistol.  "Careful, the safety's off."

She almost dropped it when he said that.

"When I tell you, I want you to fire a single shot at each target, as fast as you can.  Keep your eyes closed"

"Okay."

"Go." he said.

She spun around and the dome was filled with the echoes of gunfire.  Her shots were a little slow, probably due to her uncertainty, but she was even more accurate than he'd expected.

"Good, now you can look."

"I only hit two." she said, disappointed.

The targets were marked with paint.  He wasn’t stupid enough to hand a gun loaded with regular bullets to a girl with her eyes closed.

"Have you ever fired a gun before?" he asked.

"Just- No sir, just video games."

"Ah, that explains why you did so well.  Most people, the ones who haven't used a pistol designed by a Stark type, overcompensate for the recoil."

"I, uh, I don't know what that means." she said.  Honest confusion was better than nervous trembling, at least.

He smiled, as gently as he could.  "Don't worry about it.  The point isn't how well you can shoot, not when it’s the first time you’ve ever handled a firearm."  He shook his head.  "You'll find a few things in your inbox tonight.  An exercise routine to increase your flexibility and reflex time as well as a schedule of classes for basic pistol and rifle marksmanship.  Once you've got a decent level of proficiency, we'll put you in a more customized regime."

The nervous tension in her shoulders faded, just a little.

"Trust me, once we're done, no one will doubt that you deserve to be counted among the best.

Samantha Soar smiled.

Citadel Cafeteria

Isaac sat down to eat his lunch, alone.  Ignoring the mild tingling in his forehead, he took a bite.  It was surprisingly good, for cafeteria food.  He almost dropped the fork as he tried for the next one.  Keeping his forcefield up so often was turning out to be even more of a pain than he expected.  It interfered with handling small objects, pens, paper, doorknobs... and forks.  He was just grateful that he was able to pass food through it, otherwise Instructor Bruce might have made him skip meals for the week.