Jimmie was on his way to his assigned ship, inside a bigger ship which was inside an even bigger ship. Jimmie thought about that for a second, pondered how stupid that sounded, even if it was true. Then Jimmie realised that inside the smallest ships, there were nine capsules, one for each of the soldiers, made to shoot them down to the planets surface. These capsules could, with some effort, be steered and should therefore be defined as ships on their own.

At least, that was what Jimmie was thinking about as he made his way through the dirty corridors of the enormous ship. He turned his gaze to his left, watching as the steel doors passed him, each containing a number that indicated what sort of room it was. Then Jimmie looked to the right and saw Dick.

“Hello” Dick said with a smile. Jimmie just stared for a second. Then two. Brain not quite keeping up with his sight. “Your Jimmie, right?” Dick asked, undeterred by Jimmies silence and piercing gaze. Jimmie continued to stay silent, letting his brows furrow, an attempt at chasing Dick away. Dick merely smiled wider, keeping step, even as Jimmie increased his. Jimmie looked away from Dick, focusing on the corridor in front, taking a right, then left. Noticing that Dick was still following. To Jimmie, Dick felt like an annoyance, so he decided to ignore him. “You’ve got quite the reputation, I’ve heard” Dick said, taking Jimmie by surprise, unsure of how to feel, quickly shaking his thoughts as he continued walking. Dick noted the quick pause, following up with. “You’ve set every record there is to set, even those that aren’t meant for us normal humans” Dick told, sounding boisterous and bragging, as if he was talking about his own son. Jimmie listened keenly, but keeping his face hidden, pretending to watch the walls go past. Dick’s words had brought a smile to Jimmies face. After all, he had trained very hard to get those records. “But you failed basic training” Dick suddenly said with a flat tone. Jimmie stopped, turned around and glared dangerously at Dick, who in response backed up with his hands up. Jimmie held the stare for a second, Dick stared back with his hands raised. Then two seconds passed. Jimmie turned around, continuing the walk through the corridors, this time determined to ignore Dick. Dick followed close behind. Marching metal boots clanking at steel floor, echoing through the long corridors. “I’ve seen the footage. Hitting a one in a million shot. Not once, not twice, but thrice. All done in the span of three bullets. Statistically impossible for anyone without genetic modifications or robotic guidance. But here you are” Jimme glanced towards Dick, meeting his eyes then looking away quickly. Jimmie felt confused, why was he saying all this? “Recommended for the highest honour of duty in the entire empire of mankind. A one in a ten million chance, a training that only one in ten thousand could succeed. But the generals were unanimous in their decision. They were certain you would make it, and become, the next generation super soldier.” Dick said, air quoting the last part, using fake bravado to play it up. Jimmie quickened the pace, not knowing why Dick was saying all this, but quickly realising where it was heading. “And yet, he fails basic training. What? How?” Dick kept pace with Jimmie, his voice loud and boisterous, fake and awful. Jimmie disliked it, he disliked it very much. “When the great generals asks how this is possible, they-“ “What the fuck do you want?” “You, out” Dick replied quickly, going from fake bravado to an undertone of hostility in a split second, taking Jimmie by surprise. He stopped to confront Dick, staring down at him. Dick held Jimmies confused stare, a stare that slowly transformed into one of anger. “What do you mean?” “You're a liability, a thorn, a zit that won't get popped” Jimmie turned a shade of red, taking a step forward, dangerously close to Dick's face, Dick held Jimmies stare without even moving an inch. The two of them stared at each other until, eventually, Jimmie faltered. Something that made him both uncertain and extremely angry. “You can’t kick me out” “You’re right” Dick quickly said, confusing Jimmie once again, making the hairs on his arms stand up, anger filling his thoughts, wanting nothing but punch that fucking judgmental face of his. “But if I could, I would. You're a lone wolf. There’s no place for you in a group. You’ll get us killed and then yourself, I’d rather have a kid with a gun than you if they could work together” Jimmies fist shook, visibly clenching at the obvious call for a beating. If Jimmies stare could kill, Dick would have been melted to the ground. But their intertwined breaths made the whole scene look almost passionate. Dick didn’t falter though, always holding Jimmies stare, keeping his back straight and stance firm. Jimmie wanted nothing but punch Dick at this very moment. But he held back, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. He immediately felt the hatred flow out, and when he opened his eyes again, he backed up. “What’s wrong with lone wolfs? They have the best chances of killing high value targets and destroy high value objectives.” If Dick was surprised by Jimmies sudden three-sixty of emotions, he didn’t show it, merely responding with. “But a group would kill the high value target, destroy the objective and still have the possibility to counter whatever the enemies could send at them.” Jimmie thought for a moment, thinking up a clever response. “A lone wolf wouldn’t need to deal with the countermeasures, he would just sneak away” “A group would keep each other safe.” “Easier to keep yourself alive than a group” “A lone wolf couldn’t fight an army.” “Neither could a group” That made Dick pause, his expression just as unreadable as before, but it felt, if maybe just for a second, as if he looked. Sad? “Could you kill someone in cold blood?” Jimmie answered quickly, feeling weird about the sudden paus from Dick. “That is wh-“ But Jimmie couldn’t speak as Dick continued to talk, ignoring what Jimmie was about to say. “Could you use a grenade launcher to destroy an enemy base? Could you lock on an airship with a rocket launcher? Could you use mobile cover to your advantage? Could you camoflauge in the middle of an desert? Could you determine the number of enemies at a glance? Could you predict what strategy would be the best in a certain situation?” Dick paused for a second, taking a small breath. Then continued. “Could you help a wounded soldier? Could you send a message to a dead brother's family? Could you stare into your commander's eyes and tell him “Yes, I will do it” when you know you’ll die?" Jimmie stared blankly at Dick, feeling as if Dick wasn’t talking about the previous subject anymore, but Jimmie was a little slow with social uptakes. “A lone wolf could.” “I’m talking about you, Jimmie. Could you do all of that, by yourself?” Jimmie took a second to think, but felt in his heart of hearts, he truly felt, no, he believed that he could. “Yes” he answered. Dick smiled at the response, but the smile didn’t look genuine, as if he was hiding something underneath it. “How old are you Jimmie?” He asked out of the blue, keeping the same smile. Even as Jimmie turned yet another shade of red, then Jimmie realised what an asshole Dick really was. “What the fuck does that matter?” But Dick merely shook his head, chuckling slightly, responding slowly while looking downwards. “Hehehe. It doesn’t Jimmie. It doesn’t” He then looked up, the same fake smile plastered on his face, and said. “Well. I’ll see you on the ship then, I hope we’ll work great together Jimmie.” And then walked off, boots tapping on the steel floor. Jimmy stood still, perplexed, confused, and a little angry. The whole situation had been a giant waste of time. He had gained nothing from that, other than the fact that he realised that Dick was, in fact, a dick. He then heard a small cough, and looked too Dick, who stood by the end of the long corridor, shouting back. “Oh, and by the way. You passed the test” Then walking off, leaving Jimmie highly confused.