"You're so fucking pathetic." Donovan slowly began to arch his back, his legs locked around Cholst's waist. The goal here was, of course, to make this unruly idiot feel pain. So long as Donovan didn't go overboard, he was certain he could avoid dealing any lasting damage. "You come into someone else's house, insult their way of life, and then bitch when you get told there's a good reason for it. Tell me jackass, do you think split is gonna help you here? Do you think you're gonna be able to brute force your way out of this one? Do ya?"

Donovan began to pull harder, his frontal lock (one of the weaker ones he had been taught) on Cholst's arms growing tighter. Once Donovan felt that Cholst's wrists, forearms, and shoulders were under a sufficient amount of stress he held his position. There was enough space to struggle, but only enough to further the amount of pain he was feeling. Unless Cholst used his hands to free his wrists from Don's own, he had no method of escaping. Donovan looked into the defiant eyes of his red haired senior.

"Are you going to apologize?"

"Fur hwat!?" Cholst could barely speak properly, his defiance earning Donovan the right to squeeze his legs around Cholst's waist, increasing the pressure right under the diaphragm.

"That should be obvious, retard." There really wasn't a reason for Cholst to apologize, not one that Donovan really cared about, but his tone and blatant disregard for rank and process was something that was probably punishable by Trebar's standards. "Look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you you poor excuse for a brainless retard." Monotone voice, scathing remarks, just like his CQC instructor/drill sergeants.

"Phuck you!"

Donovan drew his head back from the spittle, telegraphing his disgust on his face. "Fine then, we'll do it the old fashioned way." Donovan inhaled, clenching his jaw and bringing his head forward into Cholst's undefended face. The top of his forehead landed just above the bridge of Cholst's nose. Supposedly, this was a trauma-positive interaction for Donovan, that being an interaction where Donvoan would receive less head trauma for the blow than Cholst, something to do with the location and angle of impact in comparison to the way the skull is designed to take hits. "Apologize."

"A'm shaowwy."

Ah, sweet victory. Donovan did not consider himself to be a purveyor of mental warfare, but he felt confident in his ability to dominate someone both stupid and weak enough to put themselves in a position where violence was a tool at his disposal. Subduing errant threats was the whole reason he was taught these techniques, and headbutting was the closest he could get to dealing a mental blow physically, literally damaging the mind.

"Apology accepted. Are you going to do something that stupid again?"

"No shir."

"Good." Donovan let go of Cholst's arms, making sure he didn't immediately flop over on the ground before standing right back up. He was still slightly dizzy from the headbutt, but not beyond the point of manageability. "Sorry about that folks, I don't allow idiots on my training grounds, they can hurt people."

It was a terrible excuse if it was going to be taken literally, fortunately Trebar took it as a joke.

"Well that certainly is an . . . eccentric . . . way of going about removing them. Did the others receive similar treatment?" Nervously, Trebar laughed, taken aback by the sudden and overwhelming display of controlled violence against one of his strongest and most uncontrollable subordinates.

"Hmm? Oh, no, they would never need something like that, especially not after our first day of fun together," Donovan turned to his squad, "isn't that right gentlemen?"

The response was a chorus of pained moans and three thumbs up. Donovan had taught them a way to respond yes or no without the need to speak.

"See."

"That only makes me more curious as to just what you did to them."

"Well, you can ask them yourself when it comes time. Do you want to join us for the next few exercises? You don't have to do it all, mind you, I would never ask someone not under my jurisdiction to go through this. Just think of it as getting an idea of what I have them do every day." Donovan gestured to his men, who were at the point of slowly getting up to drink water.

The green haired girl - Zhoie - was squatting next to Cholst, poking him in the face. He was too dazed to properly react to her teasing, but he did try to swat her hand away. "How did you do that? I don't think I've ever seen somebody shut him down like that."

"Not a chance, sorry." Donovan didn't even have to contemplate whether or not he should tell her, he had long since decided that grappling techniques should remain a secret exclusive to him for as long as possible.

"Awwww." It was evident that she really wanted to know how to do that to him, just to fuck with him.

"Don't fret over it, Zhoie, you can hold this one over him forever. Just tell him he got his face smashed by a person who couldn't use split." This information led to wide eyes in the women, clearly skeptical of that assertion.

"Couldn't use split in combat, Trebar." Donovan corrected him, unsuccessfully trying to play into the joking atmosphere they had created. "Ah, whatever. I think now is as good a time as any for introductions, yes?"

Trebar nodded, eager to get back on track. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."

"Great, I'll start. My name is Donovan Strauss, Terran. I'm not exactly sure what else you would want to hear about me, but I guess I use the sword. Nice to meet you all." Donovan extended a hand to each of them in turn, Trebar excluded since they already knew each other to some degree.

"It is a pleasure, Donovan. My name is Zhoie, mixed. I prefer to use twin spears when I fight, but I can use a lance or sword just fine. Is the girl over there Titanyana?" Cholst's responselessness failed to maintain her interest, so she turned to the next most interesting thing she could think of.

"That would be correct, though I would like to ask you to let her rest for the moment. These breaks are important in ensuring that they can complete the next one."

"Killjoy. . ."

Trebar moved to cover for Zhoie's rudeness. 

"The one you just disciplined is Cholst, also mixed race but primarily Guayan. He uses a lance, and only a lance. It's a bit of a problem for him to be honest, seeing as he doesn't understand how other weapons can be used to counter him." Trebar picked up the Lance Cholst had dropped and propped it up against the wall. "I'd like to beat him up from time to time just to get him to listen to me, but then I'd be at risk of losing him to someone else, so thank you for that."

"It was my pleasure." Donovan turned to face the final person, the woman shrouded in black clothing. "Who might you be?"

For a moment she was silent, her eyes flicking between Donovan and a Trebar. She was waiting for permission to do something, or maybe confirmation, but Don couldn't tell what for. This was only a greeting, after all.

"Have you really decided so soon after meeting him?" Trebar seemed skeptical about some conclusion she had come to, unconvinced that she had been given enough time and evidence to come to a proper one.

"He is more than qualified. I only await your word."

Trebar looked her up and down once more, still largely unconvinced. Donovan remained clueless.

"Well, it's your prerogative in the end. If he is really the one you are looking for, then I have no right to stop you. I only ask you remain in my direct employ until I have graduated."

"Trust I will fulfill the terms of our contract, we always do."

"Then do as you please." Trebar turned away and dismissively waved his hand, his focus drawn to the exhausted men who were beginning to stand up.

"I thank you, Lord Trebar." The woman then turned and approached Donovan, stopping a few feet in front of him before dropping to a knee and bowing. "This one greets the Emperor!"

"Huh?"

"This one pledges her life to your service upon the completion or annulment of our current obligations. This one hopes that you will accept the declaration of this one and her people's loyalty now and into the future!"

"What?"

"She's swearing fealty to you, Donovan, on the behalf of her people."

"This one will accept any order she is capable of completing, and will lay down her life in service of your goals, Lord Emperor!"

Donovan was not prepared for this to happen, and why would he be? As far as he knew, Trebar was just going to come over and check his progress today. The thought that perhaps somebody might prostrate themselves at his feet and declare themselves to be his subject wasn't even something that had crossed his mind, much less that they would declare him to be an Emperor.

"Hold on now! I don't even know your name yet, or who you are! I don't know what it is you do either! How could I possibly accept you as a subject if I don't know you?" Don was half talking out of his ass here, trying to buy time to gather his thoughts. "Besides, I don't even have a planet to call home yet. How could I possibly be an Emperor?"

"My people do not require a planet to survive, Lord Emperor, we can find sustenance amongst the stars."

That didn't explain anything to Donovan.

"Start with a self introduction, work up from there. He is still new to this whole rulership gig, so you need to take it slow." Trebar chastised the woman from the side, careful not to reveal any information that the woman should reveal herself. "My guess is that he doesn't want to be called 'Emperor' right off the bat either."

"Yeah, uh, Lord Strauss or maybe just Donovan will do for now." Don had decided to just go with the flow for now, he could stomach the embarrassment from the 'Lord' title better than 'Emperor' or 'Lord Emperor'.

"Very well, Lord Strauss. My people are nameless. We hail from an old race, perhaps the oldest behind the Great Tree itself, and we have spent our lives in search of the true ruler ordained in our future by the progenitor, utilizing contracts to both sustain and further our search. This one specializes in assassination and the blade, and enjoys sweet tasting food. Order me to do as you please!"

- - - - -

'I can't believe she chose now of all times to swear fealty to somebody.' Trebar's unfocused gazed into the distance, beyond the walls of the courtyard. 'I understand it's a big deal for her, and I knew that Donovan was probably, no, definitely the one she was looking for, but I wish she would learn some tact.'

His thoughts were drawn to his other two subordinates.

'I wish they all would learn some tact.'

For a moment, Trebar turned an eye over to check Donovan's progress with the unwittingly problematic child.

'I can't believe he's handling this so well. If she tried to kiss my hand I would have kicked her. . . No, maybe that's just a me problem, but she is definitely being too pushy. Should I intervene again?'

"Okay, but what should I call you?"

'What?'

"My people do not go by names, Lord Strauss. We are perfectly content with being referred to as 'you' or having our attention grabbed by other means, hence our title of nameless."

"Yeah, I get that, but that shit won't fly with me. I need someway of identifying you that is unique so that I can differentiate who I'm talking to. I also don't want to sound demeaning when I call for you."

Trebar had a thought that had never crossed his mind before. 'Is Donovan maybe used to handling idiots?'

"It is my people's wish to remain unlabeled."

"But I need to give you a name so I can write stuff down. Do you have any idea how hard it is to organize stuff if you can't find it to begin with? What do you want your name to be?"

"I would not know where to start with a naming convention."

Another new thought crossed Trebar's mind. 'Is Donovan maybe an idiot himself?' Unlike the last one, Trebar was quick to dismiss this thought. Of course Donovan wasn't an idiot, he knew too much about running an army. Surely someone like that couldn't be stupid, right?

Trebar's mind trailed to the stories of military incompetence back when his country actually fought in wars, they absolutely could be stupid. In fact, he would go so far as to describe those individual as the stupidest he could think of.

'No, Donovan is nothing like those idiots. He has repeatedly demonstrated the ability to properly identify threats and formulate plans to develop his military and industrial base. He might be deficient in certain areas pertaining to sociability and the like, but is most definitely competent as a person. I refuse to believe otherwise.'

"Then I'll come up with a name for you. . . Actually, which language should I use? English is nice and all, but I think it would be cooler to have a name in, like, latin, or something."

"I have no idea what it is you are referring to Lord Strauss, but I am ecstatic that you would be the one to provide me with a name."

"Let's seen, my first name is. . . Irish? I think it meant brown haired chief? And I think Strauss was German, but I'll be fucked if I remember what it meant. . . Mercedes was definitely merciful lady, German as well. . . Diana was just the name of the Roman Moon Goddess? Was that it? Helmsguard was just helmet gaurd, Draco was dragon, Adirondack was a mountain range. . . What the fuck did Thompson mean though? Eh, whatever, it sounded okay."

'What the hell is he rambling about?' Trebar ignored the nameless woman at his feet, staring at him with boundless attention. Such was expected behavior for her.

"That isn't important, let's just go with Latin because it's the only language I know enough of. Let's see, is 'nameless woman' a good enough approximation of what you are?"

"It is perfect."

"Good. Now, nameless is. . . 'Nemo'? I think it was 'Nemo', there was a movie about it or something. Then woman, I think the root is feminine? Femila? No, 'Femina'! So, 'Nemo sit Femina'. I think that's right! SO," Donovan clapped his hands, "From this point forward, your first name is Nemo, your middle name is Sit, and your last name is Femina! How do you feel about that?"

"It is perfect, Lord Strauss. From this point forward, I am to be referred to as Nemo Sit Femina."

'Well, I'm glad to finally be able to call her something, but I'm kind of worried about how quick she was to throw away her nameless status like that.'

Donovan then extended a hand to Nemo. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Nemo."

Nemo hesitated before assenting to the handshake. It was evident on her hidden face that she did not wish to be treated as equals.

cakeonfrosting

A very quick search on Google Translate (Latin -> English) will reveal just how wrong Donovan is. If my Latin is wrong in any way according to one of you limited number of roman scholars, feel free to inform me.

In other news, the side story who's existence I announced a few days ago is progressing at an okay pace. I'm officially done with two chapters, and work on the third is going along well. I don't know if I mentioned anything about it previously, but it involves a tank (I fucking love tanks). The characters from this story, the main story, won't make an appearance with but a single exception.

It is very much intended to be a treads on the ground methodical crawl through enemy territory sort of book through the eyes of the 'type of character' I feel doesn't get enough recognition in that genre of storytelling.