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Like Son Part 1

Week 1, Day 6 - 0700

Exercising in the rain looked awesome when someone else was doing it, not when Miles was the one doing it himself. They were thirty in a ten by three rectangle formation, pushing themselves from the mud beneath them. They all were in the open field just before an empty flagpole, with the silhouette of a large building behind it, and a series of smaller ones beside it. This place would be their home for the next few months, and two years if they qualified.

Miles' muscles burned on the 126th push-up, while being cooled by the rainshower, and mud sticking on his army shirt, slacks, and boots. Some of his squadmates had collapsed, and the cheetah drill sergeant would turn them over so they wouldn't choke on wet soil, yet snarled at their incompetence.

"Stevenson!" The cheetah yelled louder than the torrential rainfall, and sloshed between the cadets. Miles kept doing his reps but then turned towards the commotion. "When you wake up, you and your platoon will give me fifty more!" And they all groaned in unison. That was up to two hundred and fifty now. It began with fifty.

Miles' mind expressed disapproval of some of his squadmates, and lowered his expectations further. Sure, two hundred fifty push ups wasn't an issue. Hell he could do five hundred, but getting mud off his fur wasn't easy with what their barracks offered. And it occurred to him that he had to clean his uniform too. It couldn't get worse than this at least.

"Sergeant Paleto!" A familiar voice yelled out. "Up and center!"

"Sir!" The cheetah stopped in his tracks, went to the front, and turned to the flagpole with a large, and tall silhouette standing at its base. He saluted the supposed higher ranking officer.

"I will take it over from here." He saluted back, then walked past him. "Halt!" Captain Fennix barked at them.

Miles' eyes widened, as his tail drooped in the mud. It was his father wearing his soldier fatigues, and displayed his rank of captain. His lapels had three diamonds, with a red circle in the middle of each. The older wolf was drenched, yet unfazed by the harsh weather that even the drill sergeant had difficulty keeping his hat on earlier. There was an intimidating aura surrounding him, which made him feel uneasy. He had not seen his father with such ferocity, not even when he broke the window, or tipped the bookshelf in their home years ago.

Everyone had stopped in their exercise, and looked up to the seemingly familiar wolf. It hit some of them as they stared at Miles, then back to him. Even a few murmured about their physique, those red-eyes, and obviously the family name on their uniforms that read 'Fennix'.

"Shut it!" Captain Fennix growled. "Those two at both ends, continue your push-ups with fifty more!"

And so the four cadets who spoke continued their exercise, one of them was already on the verge of collapsing. They were then focused again in awe that the officer had his son as their fellow cadet.

"Now that I have your attention, I am slightly impressed that you have all figured out who I am related with." Captain Fennix looked at each and all of them, then focused on Miles. "But you all have to react faster next time because the enemy won't hesitate. Am I right Miles?"

"Yes sir!" Miles felt that pressure when his father personally called him. He focused on the ground as his father stomped the mud beside him.

"First things first!" Captain Fennix shouted. "If any of you harm each other outside of regular training, I will personally see to it that you will keep the flag dry next time it rains this hard! Otherwise you will give me ten thousand push ups in one go. Is that clear cadets?!"

"Yes sir!" They all desperately yelled out in unison.

He then stood in front of him. "Next, don't think that just because Miles is my son I will take it easy on him." Some of them gulped, and Miles could feel the pressure build up on his shoulders. He felt as if he knew what his father would ask next. "Miles, how many push ups can you do? And don't lie or I will double it."

"Five hundred, sir!" Miles replied as the rain worsened.

"Say that again cadet!" His father's voice boomed louder.

"Five hundred! Sir!" The younger wolf yelled half as loud, which made some of the cadets groan out.

"That's right! Add five hundred to your current amount, even those murmuring earlier!" Captain Fennix then walked back towards the flagpole, with the drill sergeant standing by his side. "Get to it!" He then snapped to the cheetah. "That includes you Paleto!" To which the staff sergeant got on the wet concrete and started doing push ups too. Miles and the rest of his platoon were back on the exercise. Seven hundred fifty push-ups, and in the harsh rain too.

Miles looked around to see if anyone glared at him, but they were all too intimidated to have done so. Yet he felt their disdain for him, especially that his capacity to do so had punished them more. Especially that it was his father, who knew him from hair to toe, would be giving out orders occasionally. A part of him was intimidated knowing that his father would bring the harshest challenges for his platoon. However he had learned that challenges invited stronger men and women. His training had only begun.

Week 2, Day 3 - 0800

For the first time in his life, Miles felt like he was a true soldier. He had been given actual equipment to jog with, and a dummy rifle that would weigh as much as the actual gun. His smile was from ear to ear, and tried not to wag his tail for discipline's sake. Other people tried not to murmur, not after last week. They didn't want to give Captain Fennix any more push-ups, sit-ups, or exercise with their equipment weighing as much as they were. Especially not in the muddy roads they walked on. It wasn't as deep, nor murky, as yesterday, but it was still unpleasant to exercise and having to clean all the equipment.

Movies were not exaggerating about using a toothbrush to clean the latrine. Well, not that Miles couldn't handle such an annoying chore. His worry stemmed from his father making him and his platoon do twice the amount of what they were going to do today: a three kilometer march with all this gear. He read before, on the recruiting site, that they were supposed to do thirteen kilometers in eight weeks. Plus his entire platoon had to accomplish it, otherwise none of them would. Speaking of, the ones who had a hard time were specifically placed at the front, while he was at the last row of the column. He could barely see his father because of the other taller cadets in between, but he had been silent for the last ten minutes.

The young wolf then decided to take a peek of who the stronger cadets beside him were: a German Shepherd, and a Leopard, both of which were familiar faces, especially the latter. Adrian was the former who stood taller, and had a similar build to him. He wasn't much of a talker, and had only heard him speak whenever he responded to orders. Despite this, he always stuck among the cadets who crowded up, and listened in. Christy the leopard was between their heights, but with a buffier build than both. She did all one thousand push ups from last week's rainy exercise, and had better breathing than he did. She and Miles got acquainted a few days ago, and even shared their family's military experience. Miles shared his father doing tours in the Middle East, while her parents were part of the peacekeeping force in Africa.

"Halt!" Captain Fennix barked, and everyone ceased except for someone in the middle bumping to another cadet. "You two, drop and give me fifty!" He shouted at those two cadets. Everyone else who nearly slouched immediately stood tall and firm to not be punished alongside. They didn't even glance at the two cadets.

"Yes sir!" They shouted, then dropped and began doing push-ups.

As they did their reps, the captain spoke. "Alright cadets, welcome to the next part of your basic training. Adrian, please brief your cadets of our mission objective this morning."

Adrian cleared his throat, then raised his chin. "Cadets, we will be marching three kilometers in formation towards the Alpha Checkpoint, with full military gear!" He shouted with a shrill voice. "And back, in formation, with full military gear. Mission objective given, sir!"

Despite Miles being in the rear of the formation, he could feel the same disappointment he felt when his father stepped in. His worry was also affirmed because their trek is doubled, and he had to ensure everyone in the platoon had to get there in one piece. Plus there were already two of their fellow cadets doing fifty push-ups, and covered in mud as they did it.

"Correct, Adrian. However!" Captain Fennix walked around their formation. Miles saw those farthest from him with their tails tucked between their legs, anticipating what he would say next. "I will make it easy for some of you." And he now stood behind his son. "Because this is a team-building exercise. Anyone unfit to continue, their fellow squadmates will carry them!"

Miles was miffed by that further, because after having to do double the march, he had to help carry his squadmates who were unable to do so. Before he could linger on about their lack in performance, his father had a reminder.

Captain Fennix cleared his voice for this. "You would all think that being a soldier is seeing one, or even four guys fighting the enemy and prospering." He went on, with a sharper tone as he walked around more. "That is false. Being a soldier is being part of a team, and supporting your squadmates who are unable to do. God didn't make all of us equally, but we all dared to be something greater than ourselves, and you can achieve that greatness together."

The younger wolf then felt embarrassed by that sentiment, and it would appear Adrian had too as he looked down in shame. Christy smiled, having understood the sentiment from the get go. Miles thought that it would be quite a challenge, but he was here to do just that after all. He slowly felt better, with the added confidence that his cadets, mostly Christy, would help him should he collapse. With that he wouldn't be as hesitant to help them, provided they weren't layered in too much mud for a start.

"You will all endure together, therefore prosper together. Is that clear?!"

"Yes sir!" They all shouted in unison with a cheerier tone. Even those still doing their push-ups chimed in with a similar expression.

"Now those who haven't done push-ups, give me fifty too!" The captain chuckled, and gestured his finger to the ground.

Whatever confidence they had with their united reply wavered for a moment, but then accepted the ideal that the captain bestowed onto them. Miles found it funny, but his father was right. Some even chuckled as they all got down and began doing their push-ups with a sense of unity. For the slightest glimpse Miles caught as his father went around, he saw an approving smirk.

"Remember cadets!" The captain shouted. "If one can't fulfill the fifty, then you must finish it for them!" But he wasn't done. "This is not an excuse for you to slack off, because if you do, I will personally kick your ass out of here! Is that clear?!"

"Yes, sir!" They all shouted in varying degrees of exhaustion. Those in front had more difficulty than those in the back.

"Remember if you can't push yourself any further, lay down on the ground with your chin above the mud. Tell the others and they will volunteer for you." He walked towards the front, already noticing outliers. "If no one volunteers, I'll pick the volunteers." And he had his eyes set on Miles.

Miles exchanged looks with his father, and he would accept that challenge with a slight nod. And it wouldn't be long when one of those in front had collapsed.

He exasperated. "Just ten more..."

"I'll volunteer!" One of the female cadets next to him said.

And more of the weaker cadets have given in, but they were able to reach above forty push-ups. Their cadets beside them volunteered in their place. When they couldn't continue, those in the rear began volunteering on their behalf too.

"I'll take the twenty, sir!" Miles shouted, to the relief of his other cadets. Adrian took in ten more, and Christy twenty as well. All in all, everyone was able to do the entire platoon's 1,500 push-ups to the captain.

He applauded them as he went around. "Good job, cadets. You've earned yourself five minutes, then it's off to the Alpha Checkpoint. Take a breather, drink some water, and get to know the people who volunteered for you." The old wolf then went towards the front to check on the others who had collapsed initially and made sure they hadn't fainted.

Miles got up and wiped the mud on his chest with disgust, and held his fake weapon. It added to the realistic expectations of becoming a soldier, but he wasn't quite there yet. His heart pumped with excitement, tapping his foot already eager to move ahead. There was still something missing though. His blood was rushing though inadequate to the same feeling he had when he fired a weapon some years ago. He then looked at Adrian who had been very supportive of the other cadets, and shared the same amount of adrenaline he had. The German Shepherd acknowledged him with a nod, and the young wolf then said. "Nice job volunteering for the others."

Adrian gave him a thumbs up, and Christy got behind them and patted their shoulders. She was upbeat. "And good job both of you. If we keep this up, we'll be the finest platoon in no time!" The german shepherd jerked himself away, and sneered at her.

"My apologies." Christy chuckled and kept her composure. She extended her paw towards him. "I'm Cadet Christy Kaleb."

Adrian shook her paw. Miles did on his behalf. "He's Adrian, not much of a talker but very capable." The german shepherd tilted his head towards the wolf and nodded in approval.

Two unfamiliar cadets approached them. One's a tall feminine horse, and the other's a shorter, and exhausted otter who clung onto her arm for support.. The former spoke first and extended her hand towards Miles. "Hi, name's Sierra and this is Joseph."

"Hi..." Joseph's exhausted paws waved low on his lap, as he clutched his breath from even talking.

"He'd like to say thank you for taking his push-ups. None of us are used to doing something like this, more or less in these conditions." Sierra gestured to the majority of the platoon still exhausted, and helping each other up and clean the mud off. "And the resemblance you have with your father is very obvious. Did you know he was going to be our drill sergeant?"

They looked at Miles who felt uneasy, but he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I really didn't. I knew he'd be here to observe me, but not this close." He glanced at his father who was observing the platoon from afar. "And he's not treating me like a son here." Which surprised Sierra, and Joseph, but Adrian and Christy understood the dynamics. After all they all thought it was a professional environment.

"And it makes sense because I wanted to be a soldier for the longest time Miles continued. "And this is the way to go."

"I'm sure my mom would've done the same thing. If she were our captain." Christy chimed in. "Your father is much more strict though, and that's good."

Sierra and Joseph then asked her, and the leopard started talking about her family. Stories and its details that Miles already knew.

A few minutes later, after the platoon had formed up once again. They were in higher spirits despite the exhaustion, and those marginally capable were excited for more. Captain Fennix stood in front of them, proud of their progress as a platoon.

The captain then shouted. "Everyone rested up?" He didn't even give them a chance to answer. "Good, now get moving!" He stepped aside as he set the terms. "You've got twenty minutes to reach CP Alpha in formation!" With added emphasis on the last word. "Any extra second is another ten push ups from all of you!"

"Yes sir!" They all shouted in unison as they jogged forward. First minute in, and the jog picked up pace. Though not another minute after, those exhausted from the push-ups were already wheezing. Miles thought of a way to help them, but Christy yelled first.

"Somebody pass me their rifle!" She added. "Anyone else capable of carrying, pass it to someone who can!"

"I volunteer!" Miles yelled alongside someone in front of him. He then turned to Adrian who enthusiastically nodded. "Adrian volunteers too!" These sentiments increased the platoon's morale, which encouraged others to endure. The young wolf then received his extra rifle from his squadmate, then saw people in front passing it to those behind them. He felt their formation was key to a team building exercise, which he also realized just then.

"We can do this!" A female cadet shouted from the middle.

"Yes we can!" Some replied in unison, with others trailing after.

"We can do this!" She repeated again.

"Yes we can!" They all said in unison as their pace picked up.

Miles then felt they had gone more than a kilometer, with two more to go. The momentum kept on going. His heart beated faster not just in excitement, but for the newfound respect and camaraderie of his platoon. The exercise wasn't as tiring, and his equipment, and even the extra rifle, didn't weigh him down anymore. Now this felt like he was a soldier, and understood more what his father had gone through. Christy beside him smiled from ear to ear seeing her the rapport being built. He then saw the platoon leader written on her face. Then turned to Adrian to read his face; he was content, and impressed but was also concerned for those in front. The dog's eyes then widened.

"Halt!" One of those on the front left shouted, followed by a grunt and a retching spit from probably the mud and dirt they marched on. Everyone had stopped then, and tried to peek over each other's shoulders. Miles leaned to the side, but Christy moved between the formation to check on the front. Though he knew his father was observing them from behind; these scenarios felt a part of the exercise too.

"Alright, get him up." Christy grunted, as she had someone over her shoulder. "Miles, up and center, please." To which he moved around the platoon. The young wolf saw she had an exhausted rabbit clinging onto her.

"How can I help?" He immediately responded.

"Can you manage another bag?" She asked, undoing the straps from the rabbit's shoulder.

"Yes, I can." He stepped forward to help her take it off, then on himself. "Yeah, this is manageable." Then he was about to ask for his rifle, but someone must've volunteered it off of him, the poor guy.

"Sierra!" Christy called out as she looked behind her. "I need you up and center to help me with Jason here."

"I'll be behind you guys." Miles chimed in, then recalled the objective. "Back in formation platoon!"

"Back in formation!" Christy repeated much louder, to everyone's surprise.

"Yes ma'am!" Everyone replied, and formed a 10x3 rectangle, and proceeded to march onward.

Everyone was back on the move, some more exhausted than others. The rabbit who was carried on two shoulders tried his best to add steps in between of having his boots dragged across the mud. Miles was feeling the weight of the extra gear, but he would not let that bring him down. Especially not in front of his father. Those around him were impressed enough to even achieve his form of strength. Some realize it more than others. Those in the far back murmured among themselves of passing gear, especially from those in the middle who could not handle anymore of the weight.

"That's right platoon, this is how we do it!" Christy yelled. "Hooah?!"

"Hooah!" They all roared in unison. "Hooah!"

The pace of their march was quick, and they were already two-thirds the way there. Christy then said. "We're almost there platoon!

"Yes ma'am!" They all replied together.

Miles turned his head side to side, and tried to catch a glimpse of his father observing them. He was nowhere in sight, yet he could feel the authoritative stare upon them. Everyone else did, for that matter as they all had their head straight, and even those exhausted tried keeping their heads up. There was no chatter apart from Christy whispering the distance of their jog, and it was already 2,700 meters.

Everyone moments after exhaled a sigh of relief as they saw a signpost which read 'CP Alpha'. Miles felt relieved, and impressed that everyone was able to reach the point, and in formation as well. Though upon arrival, those exhausted were on their knees trying to catch their breath, while Miles lowered the frontal bag on the top of his shoes so it wouldn't sink in the still-muddy path.

"Impressive job cadets!" Their captain clapped behind them, then immediately followed. "Eyes forward, and on your feet." And those exhausted stood up, and deeply breathed trying to relax.

The old wolf stood in front of them. "Now please return the gear to their respective cadets. You have earned the last three minutes of the twenty to do so, and catch a breather." Then he eyed the leopard who led them. "Then it's another twenty back to the start, and this time your gear stays on you no matter what. One hundred push-ups upon failure to comply, and for every second past the twenty minute mark. Clear?!"

"Yes sir!" Everyone answered together. It had the same tone for the last few responses throughout the day, which was a good sign to Christy. She sighed in relief, and Miles chuckled in approval as he passed the bag back to the otter who tiredly put it on around his shoulders. The poor guy seemed he would fall on his back, but he gave him a slight push which helped balance him.

Miles then stood beside Christy who was checking on her own gear. "I have an extra gun, you think you could ask these guys? It'll help them look up to you more too." He offered her the dummy rifle, to which she holstered hers behind her.

"That's a good idea, actually." Christy took the gun by its grip and handguard, with finger most definitely away from the trigger, and pointing upwards. "Platoon, who is missing a rifle!?" She turned to them, presenting arms. "You heard the captain, every cadet has to have their fill." A gazelle was quick to raise her paw, and went between the other cadets, saying excuse me as she did.

"That is my rifle, platoon leader." She stood firmly in front of Christy.

"State your name, cadet." Christy asked. Miles took note of how a leader would act, in the case that he would lead his squad in the future. What Christy showed, despite being loud, was respect for the fellow cadets, and their respective ranks. He could learn a lot of things from them, and he would do so moving forward.

"Cadet Amber, ma'am!" She answered back, and extended her arms to retrieve her rifle.

Christy then challenged her. "Can you carry this rifle, with all your gear, back to the starting point?" She rested it on Amber's paws.

"Yes, ma'am." Amber then gripped it firmly.

"Say it louder!" Christy repeated emphatically.

"Yes, ma'am!" Amber roared. "I will be responsible for my own rifle, and gear, ma'am!"

"That's it!" Christy used the momentum. "Everyone, back to formation!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Everyone responded together.

Christy stood at the forefront of the platoon toward the direction they came from. Everyone else gathered behind her in the same formation they had arrived earlier, but with Miles and Amber at her side then.

"Great job, Christy." Miles whispered.

"Yeah, you're great too" Amber replied just as softly.

"Thanks you guys." Christy giggled, then changed her tone as she took her rifle by the hand, and pumped her first to the air. "Onward! Hooah!"

"Hooah!" Everyone howled as they briskly marched the same way they took. Miles looked around for his father. Captain Fennix was following them several meters from their rear, with a still-serious face. He then kept his eyes forward as they started their march back.

Before long, however, those weakened by the earlier exercises were already wheezing again. The strict formation stretched because of it, and those in front had to slow down. Miles looked behind him to see five cadets dragging themselves, while those behind them shoved them forward, and those in front offered their shoulders.

He then turned to a sorrowful Christy. "The captain didn't say anything about supporting each other, and we can help them until we're at the seven-fifty meters mark at least."

"Not a bad idea." She replied with a cheerier tone, and her tail wagged after as she looked behind. "Pass this on: Support each other until the seven-fifty mark."

"Got it." Sierra nodded, who happened to be behind her. Offering her soldier to Joseph from earlier, who then passed it onto Adrian who was behind him. Even he whispered the orders too. The five fragile cadets each had their support, and even the gazelle was looking at Christy with a distressed wince on her face.

"You need help?" Miles asked upset. Christy snapped to him, then to the gazelle who looked away.

"No, I got this." Amber said, and tried to regulate her breathing at the still slow pace of their march. "I need to do this myself." She then kept her eye forward, and tried to keep herself upright.

"That's the spirit." Christy said to her, then lifted her head. "All of you are doing great. Hooah!"

"Hooah!" Only a handful said.

"You are all doing great." She repeated. "Hooah!"

"Hooah!" A moderate response followed, and some were followed by pained breathing.

"Let's not talk too much." Miles advised, slowly picking up the pace. "Not all of us are built equally."

"But going faster disproves that statement." Christy commented as Amber exhibited her point. The gazelle was already struggling as opposed to the wolf's more capable physique. "We need to be there for each other, no matter what."

Miles truthfully. "Yes, but challenge is what improves us."

Christy retorted. "That is true, but we can't overexert ourselves, Miles."

"We have to at least try, once or even twice per day."

"Everyone here has been trying their best."

Miles whispered. "But what if their best isn't enough for the military?" He glanced at her.

"Then they have to leave." Christy replied just as soft, yet miffed. "We'll talk about this later."

"Fine."

Week 4, Day 4 - 1500

Two weeks after the marches, Miles became stronger from all the marching, and other physical trials he had undergone. Their platoon marched for seven kilometers in full military gear to and fro, with some improving drastically from the second week, but it did not apply to everybody unfortunately.

The platoon marched in formation, with Adrian being at the forefront bearing their flag, and Christy behind him, then Miles and Sierra beside her. They were on a concrete path that led to the gun range, having passed their classrooms, and other technical facilities. Recent weather had been friendly, and the mud had dried, but they missed exercising in cold weather. Everyone could then smell the scent of exhaustion on each other, but was overlapped by day-old gunpowder and smoke as they approached the range. It invigorated most of the platoon, with an excited Miles wagging his tail side to side. A few others shared the same enthusiasm, while those who struggled the last few weeks were intimidated by their next exercise.

"Have you guys used a gun before?" Christy asked those who could hear her.

"I remember the first time I held a gun in." Miles reminisced. "It was heavier than I first thought. Almost as heavy as the dummy rifles, but you sense this form of danger while holding it."

"Danger? How come?" Sierra whimpered with drooped ears and tail curled between her legs.

"It's not just some toy, nor like a video game." Miles caught the attention of the other guys who had been listening. "If you don't follow the rules, and treat the gun properly, it might kill someone." He left his platoon mates intimidated, and somewhat hesitant. "Nonetheless we use it as a means to protect our country." He salvaged whatever confidence they had left.

"He's right." Christy emphasized. "It may be dangerous if we play with it, but in proper hands it will protect us, and harm those who fight us." It wasn't enough to save their confidence, and the reality of what they have to do as soldiers suddenly hit them.

They were then in front of the shooting range which had a bull's eye sign hanging on top, and its facility name beneath that said 'C.A.F. Shooting Range'. Just below it, on the side of the door, was a pristine plaque that had the rules of the range. It read:

The platoon heard the familiar loud march of their drill instructor approaching from behind, and immediately fell in formation. Four weeks in, and no one bothered looking back anymore, unless their whole platoon wants to do more push-ups.

"Good morning, cadets." Captain Fennix greeted them casually.

"Good morning, sir!" They all replied in unison, then saluting.

"At ease." He says, as the platoon relaxed themselves, while they stood firm. Captain Fennix stood in front with his arms crossed, and looked over the platoon as he normally would. He then turned his attention to the plaque. "For the sixteen years I've been here, there has only been one incident in this very range." He made sure all eyes were on him, scanning for anyone who would dare look somewhere else.

Miles paid extra attention because there are dire consequences if they weren't careful. He'd rather not disappoint his father in this manner, and it may hurt his reputation and rank too if he did; in fact if anyone in the platoon did.

"A rifle misfired due to poor maintenance, but the cadet followed rule number nine. And the training continued without a hitch. I expect all of you to adhere to these policies." Captain Fennix shared. "I was given by my CO ten minutes to remember all ten rules. All of you are given five. Get to it." He stepped back and leaned against the door, knocking on it. He then entered, and everyone eased themselves further.

The whole platoon then broke formation, and panicked crowding over the rules. The tallest didn't have any issue standing from behind, but the likes of Miles, and those shorter than him, were shoving each other around to get a good view.

Christy voiced out, pushing a rabbit, and a panther to give herself some space. "Platoon, how about you all repeat after me." Everyone started to settle down, and quiet up. The formation somewhat reassembled itself, but those who towered over the others were still reading the text.

Miles agreed. "We'll repeat it five times." He added. "If you miss the first few, just go with the flow and we'll come back to it."

"Alright, everyone pipe down!" Christy regulated most of the platoon, and Miles made sure that those at the back would pay attention. Now all eyes were on her, and the young wolf nodded their cooperation. She felt her throat as she cleared it, then glanced at the rules.

"First off!" Christy started. "One! Always keep firearms pointed in a safe direction!"

"One! Always keep firearms pointed in a safe direction!" The rest of them followed. And so the first repetition was mostly a success, given the entire platoon's desire to hold and fire an actual firearm. Some didn't speak yet, trying to listen properly. Miles, being attentive as he was, didn't mispronounce anything, and loudened his recitation to motivate others to do the same. That way everyone would hear it properly. The second repetition was near perfect, just that a few lacked conjunctions as they recited. Afterwards they repeated it three more times without error with a strong sense of hope that they would not forget by the time they were called on to recite.

After their allotted five minutes, the cadets were murmuring about the rules, making sure that they had memorized it all in order. Christy, Miles, Adrian, and even Sierra were confident they had. The others perhaps not as much, and even Christy helped them a bit more. Then the knob turned, and everyone hurried back into formation with the same 'at-ease' posture they had earlier. Captain Fennix stood beside the door, his large physique covering the left half of the rule board. Some trembled, and a few gulped upon seeing the captain glancing their way, while a few were distressed that the captain had blocked the short rules.

Captain Fennix then spoke. "Amber, rule 10." While he was staring at Christy whose lips quivered, thinking she had been called.

Amber cleared her throat initially, then spoke with stern confidence. "Sir! Remember all the rules, sir!"

Adrian seemed to relax, but Miles and Christy were tense because she forgot the latter part.

"Drop and give me twenty!" Captain Fennix barked at her, and she immediately got down and started doing push-ups. He then glanced at the rest of her cadets who were intimidated; caught eye of the taller cadets quickly reviewing the rules again. Then he reminded them. "Remember all the rules..." And he roared the next line. "...before entering! Is that clear?!"

"Yes sir!" They said altogether, especially Amber.

"Adrian." Captain Fennix called the German Shepherd who had tensed up. "Rule five."

"Sir! Never point the gun at anything you don't intend to destroy!" He paused in the panic, then added. "Sir!"

"Good!" Captain Fennix approved. "Miles, rule nine."

Miles recalled the rule, only because it was the longest on the list. "Sir!" He answered. "If the weapon is malfunctioning, point the muzzle in a safe direction, and unload the weapon. Sir!"

"Good." Captain Fennix clapped because he expected nothing less from his son. "Alright!" He then got all their attention. "Now that was just the warm up. Obviously I wouldn't ask one at a time, with a random rule for them to recite. Form a line in front of me, now!"

And everyone got to it, with Christy being the first, Adrian after her, then Miles. Amber followed after she got up from her push-ups, then the rest of the platoon which had a semblance of order based on height towards the end. Those at the middle onwards whispered among themselves, and clarified each other's rules.

Captain Fennix then stared at the leopard's eyes, visibly assessing her wits. "Alright Christy, be a shining example to your cadets, and recite those rules."

"Sir, yes sir!" Christy took a deep breath and began reciting them loud for everyone to hear. Everyone behind her stopped talking, and listened as she went from rule one to ten without missing a beat, nor conjunction either. She ended with. "... rules before entering. Sir!"

Captain Fennix clapped, impressed, but Miles knew it helped the other cadets memorize them. He too would be applauding if he wasn't in formation. The older wolf then opened the door for her, and Miles caught glimpse of a few soldiers waiting inside the range, all standing in formation too. "Impressive job Christy, you may go in but stay in the same line until the other cadets are done with their recitation."

"Yes sir!" She responded, saluted him, then walked sideways past the officer. Afterwards Captain Fennix shut the door again.

Adrian then took her spot, then Miles his. The German Shepherd instinctively saluted as he stood in front of the captain.

To which Captain Fennix responded. "No need to do that, Adrian. Alright, ten rules."

"Sir, yes sir!" Adrian shouted, then started reciting all ten rules. Everyone listened inherently not only because he recited the same lines as Christy did, but this was the loudest they had heard him despite being the quietest guy in the platoon. Miles thought that he could qualify as a drill sergeant because of how clear he shouted the rules without fumbling his words.

Adrian finished with. "...rules before entering. Sir!" Then stood firm.

"Ease up cadet." Captain Fennix opened the door for him, and Adrian walked past. Then Miles stepped forward, and they both gave each other a stern look. "Alright, Miles, ten rules."

Miles saw his father crossing his arms which meant he had to fulfill his expectations. He then barked. "Sir, yes sir!" Then began reciting the rules in order, and loud for the others to hear as well. As he recited, his father just kept the same look which was hard to tell if he was impressed or not. And like the first two, Miles was able to end with. "...rules before entering. Sir!"

His father then nodded in approval and opened the door. Miles walked sideways past him, and it closed behind after. Another cadet was called, and the responses followed suit. Ahead of him were Christy and Adrian lined up in front of a stern bull soldier extending his arm to line up behind them. "Fall in line, cadet."

Miles answered. "Yes, sir!" And stood behind Adrian. Further behind them were several soldiers setting up the range; disassembling the guns, and empty bottles and clay plates were stacked on the platform. Assembling the rifles would be an easy task as they looked like M16s, Miles thought. Canadians fielded C7A1 rifles which were identical in description.

"Give me 20!" Boomed from the door behind them. Christy was shocked by the surprise of the punishment, and Miles turned around out of alarm. "Recite the ten rules for every two push ups, cadet!" He heard his angered father shout.

"Oh man." Christy sighed out.

"Quiet, cadet. Eyes forward." The bull ordered. The three cadets tightened up again, and kept waiting for the rest of their platoon to finish.

After a moment, the door swung open and an exhausted cadet staggered through, then made his way to the back of the line after the bull ordered him to fall in line. The door then closed, and the recitation went on. Miles couldn't help but feel sorry for the cadet behind him. He wheezed, and panted for a minute, and felt was on the verge of collapsing. It may be a gut feeling to him, but he believed that the cadet will make it.

"Give me 30, now!" Captain Fennix shouted past the door, as he was becoming more irritated. "Additional ten to the succeeding cadets who mess up even a word of the rules."

"Yes sir!" The platoon outside answered back.

Miles tried to catch a glance of the other soldiers setting up the range proper. They were now putting the bottles and plates at different ranges. The bottles he saw were around ten feet from the firing platform, and the clay plates were more than fifty. There was a mannequin he saw in the distance around two hundred feet away. In fact, only then did he properly see the range. The rain did not damage its very grassy field, with only the objects he saw to serve as a rangefinder. Or maybe the indicators were hidden behind the tall grass. There was a u-shaped hill facing the firing range that began at the bottles, and ended a few feet behind the mannequin. And there was a concrete wall on top of the hill riddled with bullet holes of differing sizes.

"Cadet Miles." The bull called him, which the young wolf gulped in guilt. "Squat facing the range, and don't get up until all of your cadets are inside."

"Yes sir!" He shouted, and turned about face towards the range, reached out his arms, and squatted down. Some of the other soldiers were chuckling, and he heard them reminisce of the other punishments they endured. Miles could only keep a straight face as he kept his squat, though he could do this all day, and still be energized to participate in the upcoming exercise.

It felt like hours though, hearing the door open and close, and cadets shouting the rules. One or two would slip-up, and they had to do forty and fifty reps respectively. Afterwards the cadets were already well aware of all the rules that it was a smooth transition much later. Except for some who snickered at Miles' punishment thatthe bull then ordered them to join his predicament too. It was two other cadets, including Joseph the otter, who faced in different directions while squatting.

Their platoon remained quiet until the last one entered, followed by their captain. He didn't comment on those who were punished, but immediately told them to fall into formation. "Back into formation cadets!"

Miles immediately stood up, and got into position without breaking a sweat. He was beside Christy again, and his father stood in front of them, as the bull stepped aside, saluted, and went to help the other soldiers preparing the shooting range.

"Good job for the most part, but those who had to do the squats, and the push-ups, will be tasked with reciting the rules again before returning to your barracks. Do I make myself clear?"

Only those who were punished responded. "Sir, yes, sir!"

"Good! Welcome to the C.A.F. Firing Range." Captain Fennix let out a loud handclap. "At ease, cadets." And all of the cadets went into a relaxed stance. "As some of you are already aware.." His eyes glossed over to Miles, and the others who were punished alongside him before continuing. "..the soldiers are preparing the firing range. Since this is your first day in the range, they will be responsible for placing the targets. In subsequent training days, you will do it yourselves. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir!" They all replied.

"Next, before operating a weapon, you will assemble it yourselves." Captain Fennix started walking around. "Afterwards, you will disassemble it yourselves too."

Miles noticed the dismay expressions on Christy, and Sierra as he saw his father pass by them.

"Is that clear?!" Their captain demanded.

"Yes sir!"

"Next, if I catch any tomfoolery, or someone is harmed in any way shape or form." He spoke ominously. "I will personally kick you out of this base, and will face legal consequences if someone gets harmed." Captain Fennix then screamed his loudest. "Is that clear?!"

"Yes sir!"

"Is that clear?!"

"Yes sir!"

"One more time cadets, is that clear?!"

"Yes sir!" They all answered in unison, and the few feeble cadets had their tails tucked between their legs.

"Get your tails out of your legs Taggart, Colson, Sigfried." The captain called them at a quick glance. "You're soldiers. You should be ready for the consequences and take full responsibility." Then he glared at Miles.

Miles felt uncomfortable, but he kept a strong face looking forward and straight. He had thought that his father was more intimidating on his sixth day of training, but he was terrifying now. It wasn't the squatting that's for sure. Most probably the volatile training they would be doing today, and his father's parental instincts kicked in.

And to confirm Miles' suspicions, Captain Fennix coldly warned. "If my son gets harmed because of any fuck-ups today, I will personally see to it that you will spend the rest of your life behind bars. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" They all yelled together.

Miles felt his entire platoon's fearful gaze upon him. The soldiers from earlier had a similar expression towards him too, and even the bull felt guilty for the punishment. They immediately went back to work, and the platoon kept themselves quiet.

"Alright, next." Captain Fennix's tone shifted. "After assembling your weapon, you will be given ten bullets, in ten-round magazines. If you hit ten targets, and/or hit the mannequin in the chest or head, two hundred feet away." He pointed at the range, and all the cadets stared off to see what Miles had seen already. "That one over there. You may qualify for the Sharpshooter Program which offers advanced training and extra benefits once you graduate."

Miles' ears perked up. Maybe he could qualify as a marksman. He had fired a gun before, and was able to hit some of his shots. The young wolf felt confident, poised to impress his father to negate his squatting punishment.

"There are fifteen booths, or platforms as how we call it here." Captain Fennix articulated at the stretch of concrete that had a red painted line dividing fifteen slots with sandbags piled on towards the shooting range. There were gun components neatly laid out in each slot which resembled one rifle. "Only one person will assemble, and disassemble their weapons, and fire from within their respective slot. Clear?"

"Yes sir!"

"If I see any component of the rifle outside those lines, fifty push ups. Clear?"

"Yes sir!"

"Alright, we'll do this in pairs." Their captain had a cheerful tone for once. "And I'll be polite. Pair up with your fellow cadet, and line up behind a slot."

"Yes sir!"

"Get to it." Captain Fennix then went to the anxious bull.

Their formation looked inward, and among themselves. Christy immediately volunteered to pair up with Sierra, at the latter's expressed relief. Others passed in between each other to get to their friend. Miles and Adrian stood back to watch all this unfold, so naturally they were paired up together.

"You ever held a gun before, Adrian?" Miles asked, copying the cross-armed pose of the German Shepherd.

"No." Adrian answered, while shaking his head. "What's it like firing one?"

'Well, I've used the American M16, and fired single shots. There was a kick." He explained. "It's like..." Miles thought for a moment of how to correlate the experience. "...trying to stop yourself from jumping on a trampoline if that makes sense."

"But with your hands, right?" Adrian tried to help clear up the explanation. "I've seen it in video games, and I think I get it too."

Miles was surprised to hear Adrian talk this much, but it was good. "Yeah, so just hold it properly." He patted Adrian's muscle, which made him flinch. "And you're strong enough to hold it down so you will do fine."

"Thanks." Adrian gestured the same, and they both shared a chuckle. Then they noticed that everyone in the platoon had a pair. "Also I understand what you've been telling Christy."

"What?" Miles turned to him, wondering which he meant.

"The capacity of an individual to perform as a soldier, and whether they should keep pursuing it, or not." Adrian glanced at all the pairs. "You're right. If they can't handle the academy, then they should pursue something else."

"Thanks." Miles followed his observation, noticing that, excluding Christy, the pairs were based on their training capacity. "I don't think everyone here will graduate." He whispered.

"Yeah, but.." Adrian whispered back. "..they could contribute to our country in different ways too. You should say that more often."

Miles nodded agreeably at those sentiments. "You're right. People are built differently after all, and they could fulfill different responsibilities too."

"Thanks for listening." Adrian hinted a smile, and even patted Miles' back. "So, should I go first, or you?"

"I think I should. We're using a gun similar to the M16, the C7A1 so I have a general idea of what it would look like." Miles motioned Adrian to go at the center slot as the other cadets have begun lining up too.

The German Shepherd followed. "Alright then. Do you think we'd use other guns as well? Like handguns, and shotguns?"

They lined up, and awaited the captain's next orders. Everyone conversed about other things, but not Miles. "From my dad's experience, not really. After graduating and becoming active duty, we have free reign of the gun range, provided that there weren't any cadets training. So until then, we'll just have these rifles."

"I guess." Adrian then asked, pointing at the mannequin, which Miles then looked at again. "Do you think you can get ten perfect shots?"

"I hope I can." Miles dialed back on his confidence upon being asked. It seemed less probable. "I'll make my dad proud nonetheless."

"That's good. He's a great father, y'know." Adrian pointed out. "I'm not trying to bootlick or anything, but what he said about you getting harmed is a true testament to him being a parent. Your mom, his wife, would be proud. My condolences by the way."

"Thank you, and thanks for the compliment." Miles sighed. "I just hope this doesn't change anything."

"I'm sure it wouldn't. Like you said earlier, a gun is dangerous, and we don't want to get hurt."

"Alright cadets, enough with the chatter!" Captain Fennix walked along the cadets' lines who had formed up on the concrete. "Those who will volunteer first, will stay closer towards the red line. Do not enter until I say so. Clear?"

"Yes sir!" The cadets responded, then arranged themselves accordingly.

Miles was first for his pair, as was Christy, and even Joseph. The young wolf had a closer view of the components he had to assemble. They were: the barrel complete with muzzle break, gas block, and gray upper receiver; upper and lower handguards with side mounts on the former; a rifle carry handle with aperture sights on a dedicated mount with screws; gray lower receiver with an already-attached green pistol grip and green stock; and internal components such as the action spring, charging handle, buffer assembly, bolt carrier, cam pin, and firing pin.

"Wow." He mouthed to himself. All these parts separate were overwhelming, but it wouldn't be an issue when he would put two-and-two together. "I got this."

"Eyes on me, cadets. Stand at attention!" Captain Fennix announced. Everyone stood firm, and behind the other, while facing away from the shooting range. The bull then approached his side holding the assembled rifle, then presented it to him.

"Sir!' The soldier delivered.

"This is a detailed replica of the same firearm you will be using." The older wolf accepted the gun, and the bull saluted and went to the sides. "I wouldn't brandish an actual firearm outside the specified area after all." He then presented the firearm with a firm grip on both handguard and pistol grip itself. It was pointed at the metal sheet ceiling. The completed rifle looked identical to an American M16, save for the green stock, grip, and handguard. "Rule three, always treat it as if it were loaded. This includes dummy rifles. Rule one, always keep firearms pointed in a safe direction. Better to aim at the roof than at the ground because our area is in a secure forested area, but aiming at the ground will cause ricochets and someone could still get hurt from that. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!"

"Also!" Captain Fennix showed his index finger on the pistol grip, rather on the replica's trigger. "Always keep your finger off the trigger, even when you're aiming for your next shot. Is that clear?!" He yelled.

"Yes sir!" They responded louder.

"Is that clear cadets?!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"Rule Four, recite!"

"Sir!" They all said in unison. "Always keep it unloaded, unless the firing range is declared hot! Sir!"

"When the magazines arrive later with your protective gear, you are not allowed to insert it in your weapon unless I give the order. Is that clear cadets?!"

"Yes sir!"

"Lastly." He turned the gun around and pointed at the switch that had three selections. The first arrow was pointing left, pointing in the direction of the barrel. "This means safe. Always keep your gun's safety on. Especially if you're not firing! Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!"

"The other two settings are semi-auto, and full-auto. Your rifle will only have safety, and semi-auto. Clear?"

"Yes sir!"

"Now pay close attention because I will show you how to assemble and disassemble the rifle." Captain Fennix knelt down, and looked around. "You may surround me for a better view, at ease. But stay clear of where my gun is pointing." Thus the platoon gathered up and formed a spacious circle around him with a gap where the firearm's barrel faced toward .

"I present to you the C7A1 Rifle. Now pay close attention because I will only do this once." The older wolf then rested the stock on the floor and began taking it apart. It started with unscrewing a sliding bolt between the receivers, which he easily pulled the upper receiver from the lower receiver; it was followed by removing a metal cylinder which had other internal components such as the action spring, buffer assembly, pin components, and the bolt carrier. After setting those neatly aside, he separated the upper and lower handguards, and the M145 scope and its mount from the upper receiver. The disassembled weapon was presented in a manner depicting its original form.

Miles thought it would be much more difficult, but the way his father did it was quick and clean. It felt similar to putting up a toy brickhouse, or putting together furniture, just without tools. It was even impressive that one could assemble and disassemble weapons on hands alone.

Captain Fennix then pointed at the metal cylinder. "This is what enables the rifle to fire. If you do not have all its internal components installed, it won't function." Afterwards he pointed at the handguard. "This will protect your fingers and paws from holding a hot barrel." Then at the pistol grip and stock. "That goes without saying, and the stock is to help compensate recoil. All firearms have recoil in them, which is a counter-force when firing your weapon. The stock will be resting on your shoulder." He patted just below his shoulder blades, somewhat above the breast. "Around here, this will help distribute the recoil throughout your body. Provided that you stand firm, and have a strong grip of the weapon. If you cannot compensate the weapon's recoil then you will be imbalanced, and aiming will be more difficult. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!"

He then pointed at the scope. "This scope is unavailable on your first day of training. You have to prove yourself well with the iron sights before you could use the tools that made it easy. There is a small aperture sight wedged between the carry handle that you aim with the sighted gas block at the end of the barrel." He pointed at the device pointing out towards the end of the barrel, just before the muzzle brake. "Any questions? And please do not hesitate to ask because this is a very serious exercise as I've emphasized before." Then he started looking around for raised paws.

Miles saw Joseph opposite of him shyly raise his paw. His father immediately turned in that direction when he saw who he had been looking to.

"Yes, Taggart. What is your question?"

"Sir, how is that different from the M16?" Joseph asked, focused on the weapon components that resembled the titular American rifle.

"Less questions about trivia, cadets." Captain Fennix then turned to his rifle, then back to Taggart. "It is an improvement of the M16 because it has better recoil control thanks to optimal components and material, as well as a full-auto firing mode opposed to the burst fire. Additionally the standard issue sight is the M145 scope, but as I've mentioned you are undergoing training. Also it's green." The cadets looked at the green components of the rifle. "Next question, and it should not be trivia-related." Then scanned around. He noticed Christy raising her leopard paw high, and pointed at her with a nod.

"Sir! What do we do if the gun jams?" She asked.

"Good question. More like that, cadets." He then immediately gestured towards the cadets standing where the barrel pointed to move away from that direction. Captain Fennix then reassembled the rifle in a quick and efficient pace, with the barrel pointing at the empty gap. Even the cadets who had moved out of the way prior went behind others out of fear, and respect of the rules. "When your gun jams.." He presented the chamber, and pulled the charging handle which caused the slide on the side to open, showing the insider. "..it would look like a bullet stuck inside the chamber here and it wouldn't close fully. It would be halfway open." His finger pointed in the middle of the chamber where the slide would be if it jammed. "You slide it to the back with your strongest finger, and it should unjam itself. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!"

"Additionally, if the gun refuses to work even if you have unjammed it. Rule nine, point the muzzle in a safe direction and unload the weapon. Get my attention properly, and I will see to it. Clear?"

"Yes sir!"

"Any more topic-related questions?" Captain Fennix looked around once again, and this time it was Miles who had a question with his hand raised high. He nodded at him.

"Sir! Is there a way to adjust the ranging of the gun's sights?" Miles asked. Most of the cadets focused on the rifle's scope.

"Yes, there is." The older wolf tapped the optic on his rifle. "It's called 'zeroing', because you're using an aperture sight on your training rifles." He then explained. "On the side of your carry handle is a small knob that you twist that elevates the sight, to compensate the aiming alignment on the gasblock's sight." He initially tapped his optic as an example, followed by the tipped end of the gas block. "You align the small circular dot with the pringed tip, and that is where your bullet will land depending on the range you have adjusted. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" They all responded, with Miles subtly nodding.

"Any more questions, cadets?" Captain Fennix looked around and even the cadets amongst themselves, but since no one else had questions, he stood up and held the rifle in one hand, and pointed it to the air. "Alright, back to your slots cadets."

"Yes sir!" They all returned to their designated area. Standing just before the red line of their respective slot.

Miles brimmed with confidence as he could immediately connect the dots upon seeing the parts again. "I think I got this." He whispered upbeat.

Adrian peeked over his shoulder. "Y'know, looking at how the captain did it, it might not be too bad. Just put the things in the tube, then put the tube in the lower receiver, and then just attach the rest."

"That oddly makes enough sense." Miles expressed his thoughts. But before he could go on, the captain spoke up.

"Alright cadets, let's make this interesting." Captain Fennix announced. "The fastest recorded time of assembling the rifle was forty-eight seconds! Beat that record and you get to dine with the officers tonight."

And some of the cadets were invigorated by that. Adrian especially, but not as much for Miles. Dinner to them had always been MREs, or whatever the officers would dare them to eat. Last night they had to take a bite, then pass it to the next cadet. The idea of a first proper dinner they had in weeks was enticing, and it made everyone very eager to beat that record.

"Volunteers!" Captain Fennix yelled. "You may enter the slot. Wait until I say go! And when you are finished, raise both hands into the air."

"Yes sir!"

And Miles stepped past the red line, and that confidence was glossed over by excitement. It revolved around the notion that they were to start shooting weapons within the hour, and it started with assembling the very same gun he'll be using. The young wolf looked side to side and saw serious, and somewhat hungry faces. The reward of good food was too much to pass up. He then looked down, with elbows resting on his sides, and arms forward. His eyes already began piecing it together, down to the smallest pin in the metal chamber.

"Go!" Captain Fennix yelled out. And the range was suddenly alive with the cheers and coaching of cadets, and the sound of metal clanking against each other. Different reactions erupted from slot to slot. Some were frustrated that they missed a part, another cheered so loud only to realize they messed up the proper insertion.

"You got this, Miles." Adrian said amidst the loud platoon. The crouching young wolf had been quietly focusing on assembling the components within the bolt carrier first, including all the necessary pins in its proper slots. He then inserts it in the upper receiver, and the charging handle. Then the buffer assembly was inserted into the action spring, then went into the stock that was attached to the lower receiver. Afterwards he connects both receivers, and inserts the screw to lock them in place, followed by attaching both upper and lower handguards on the barrel just before the gas block. Finally he mounted the carry handle on top of the receiver, and screwed it in tight. An accomplished Miles then properly laid the rifle pointed towards the sandbags, and raised both hands in the air as he breathed exhaustively from the intense assembly. He looked around to see Christy having hers raised too, breathing just as harsh as he was. She gave him a thumbs up, and he in turn too.

"That was fifty seconds!" Captain Fennix announced. "Keep those arms raised, volunteers!"

The cadets felt dismayed, and the drive of the first volunteers had dwindled. Their pace slowed, but in doing so resulted in less mistakes. Their Captain walked along the lines, just behind the second volunteers, and made sure all their components were available to them, and within the line.

It took the last cadet a total of a minute and a half to assemble their rifle.

"Alright arms down, you'll need to disassemble them in the same manner it had been left!" Captain Fennix ordered.

"Yes sir!" The cadets answered. Joseph spun his arm in exhaustion, and Christy gave him an encouraging 'good job'. Miles on the other hand had been reviewing the gun disassembly, and recalled how his father did it.

Captain Fennix stopped at the 8th slot, where Miles and Adrian were. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Before I say go, don't hurriedly disassemble them because you might break it. These cost taxpayer dollars after all. There is a record to disassemble the gun, but there is no incentive for doing so. It is also 48 seconds to disassemble it, but there is no rush. Clear?"

"Yes sir!" The volunteers were still eager to disassemble it just as fast. Miles understood the thought that being able to disassemble it well will provide better insight when assembling it. They were all ready.

"Go!" Captain Fennix walked around to inspect everyone's procedures, especially those who took the longest to assemble.

And everyone cheered each other again during the disassembly process. A few of the cadets began realizing that they had screwed their weapons too tight, and struggled unscrewing them. Miles did not have this issue whatsoever, and was way ahead of most cadets, with Christy appearing to be neck-in-neck with him. Moments afterwards, Miles had raised both paws in the air, with firearm components neatly arranged ahead of him, similar to how his father had left it earlier.

"Good job, dude." Adrian applauded.

Both canines looked on to Christy who only then had raised her arms too, and gave Miles an uneasy thumbs up in return.

"Forty five seconds, Miles. Too bad there's no incentive." Captain Fennix taunted, and kept walking around. The last cadet to have disassembled their weapon took an entire minute, and the components were all over the place.

"Taggart, drop and give me twenty!" Captain Fennix then called out. "Same goes for your partner. Sigfried, join him!" Both the otter, and the cougar started doing push-ups. He then began to lecture them. "In the army, there is no room for disorganization, and lousiness! In fact, everyone drop and give me twenty!"

And everyone got into push-ups, with the struggling cadets having to drop exhausted from the weapon disassembly. Everyone began doing their reps, but Captain Fennix had more to add. "Come on cadets!" He rallied them. "We're four weeks in with harsh training. You will be accustomed to this in just six weeks! Am I correct Christy?!"

"Sir yes sir!" Christy yelled.

"Am I correct cadets?!"

"Sir yes sir!" They all replied in unison. Those who collapsed had regained their strength and will, and began doing push-ups too.

"That's the spirit!" Sierra cheered.

"You got this!" Said another.

"We're Canadian soldiers after all!" Miles encouraged them.

"That's right, we are!" Christy agreed.

Inadvertently everyone ended up doing fifty push-ups, then stood back up facing towards the captain.

"Volunteers, swap places with your partner." Captain Fennix said. "Second set, wait on my signal."

"Yes sir!" The next set responded.

"And all of you turn towards the platforms, volunteers, cheer your partners on. Maybe coach them too."

"Yes sir!" The volunteers answered, and everyone turned around.

The next set kneeled, and it was turn for Miles to cheer Adrian on. The German Shepherd was eager. In fact, his hands were already twitching to start assembling the bolt carrier because it was the most difficult of the components. That cylinder had small pins to be in certain slots, and if it doesn't fit then it won't properly go into the receiver.

"Remember Adrian, each pin has its corresponding length." Miles reminded him. "And don't overdo the mount screws."

"Got it." Adrian replied.

Captain Fennix then shouted. "Go!" And began walking behind the cadets as they all scrambled to beat the record holder. Miles cheered Adrian on with bits of applause, and would correct him when he made a mistake, but the German Shepherd hadn't. The young wolf couldn't help but look to his sides to find Christy and Sierra. When he had, Sierra was having a difficult time, and Christy was crouched down giving her instructions on how to assemble it properly.

"Done!" Adrian raised both hands, and Miles applauded him.

"That was forty nine seconds, just two seconds to have beaten the record." Captain Fennix approached them. "Good job nonetheless, cadet." Afterwards more hands were raised, and the last cadet was able to complete their assembly in a minute and ten seconds. Fortunately there had been no incident, and the second set of cadets were immediately instructed to disassemble their rifles.

Adrian didn't seem to have a hard time. In fact none of the cadets did, Miles observed. This time no one tightened the screws too much, nor was a component out of place this time. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"This wasn't too hard." Adrian rolled his shoulders around to keep those muscles moving, and even hopped on his toes in excitement. "Can't wait to fire it myself."

"This is the most active I've seen you so far, heh." Miles chuckled. "You think you can get all ten targets?"

"Definitely, man." Adrian turned around and winked at him. "I'll beat you to it."

Miles laughed heartily and gave him a thumbs up. "I accept the challenge."

"Alright enough with the chatter!" Captain Fennix stood in the middle.

Miles immediately turned around, while Adrian behind him had stood firm already. There was a moment of guilt thinking that only he had been causing ruckus, but as his father eyed the other cadets, it wasn't the case.

"My people are already fetching the live rounds." The old wolf emphasised. "Live rounds cadets, is that clear?!"

"Yes sir!" They replied together.

"Alongside ear plugs, and range goggles. They fit all sizes, but if it won't then let me know. It's a bitch to hear a gun up close. At ease, everyone. In fact, sit down."

"Yes sir!" And everyone eased themselves up, and some even exhaled. AFterwards they sat down cross-legged.

Captain Fennix sat down too and continued. "I know you cadets listen to a lot of music, right?" Most of them nodded. "Think of a rock song that goes from a zero volume, to a hundred instantly, and intensify that. Your ears would be numbed as you temporarily go deaf, but if you keep doing it then you'll go deaf permanently."

With that, a lot of the excitement to fire a gun had been waned, expressed by the drooped ears of some of the cadets. Miles was somewhat familiar with the experience. He recalled the first time he used a gun, and his noise muffling headset wasn't put on properly, and he was deaf for half an hour. His ear flicked, and he rubbed it in recollection.

"As for the goggles." Captain Fennix then added. "When you discharge your weapon, it emits heat and smoke. These goggles are a snug fit that help protect the eyes from gunpowder that could cause discomfort. Plus it fits all species." He then raised a finger. "If you have any questions regarding equipment, ask them now."

Taggart raised his paw, and the Captain nodded at him. He then stood up, but the old wolf didn't need him to and urged him to relax. "Sir, do soldiers use the same equipment we are about to?"

"Good question." Captain Fennix answered. "I'd say kinda. Official soldiers are given advanced equipment such as headsets that have radio functionality, and noise suppression. Even visors that have a slight HUD element that highlight friendly uniforms."

The last one was interesting enough for some cadets to say 'woah'.

"Woah indeed. Back in my day, all we had were radios strapped to our chest, and now they're in our helmets. Times have changed. Next question."

More paws were raised, and he called Sierra. "Yes, Sierra, ask away."

"Sir, the equipment official soldiers, or reservists get, is it theirs officially?"

"No, cadet. The state owns it. You can purchase it on your own if you want, but the fatigues, rigs, and weapons you see on our brave men and women? They return it to the armory when not in use."

And the footsteps of multiple soldiers were approaching from their right, a chain-linked enclosure behind them. They carried large metal boxes without difficulty, and behind them were four more soldiers bringing two long tables. They laid it far and parallel to the shooting line, and put the boxes on them.

"Stand at attention, cadets!" Captain Fennix stood up, with the platoon standing firm faster than he did. "From your pairing, one will assemble the gun again, and after the livefire, their partner will disassemble it. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good, now discuss it among yourselves who gets to do it. The person assembling gets to fire first. Get to it."

Miles turned around and met Adrian eye to eye. "I propose rock, paper, scissors." The young wolf presented a clenched fist resting on his open palm.

Adrian nodded and copied the same gesture. "First to three?"

"Alright, fine." Miles then initiated the minigame. "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot."

He had rock against Adrian's paper. The latter had cheered, with Miles' wit being tested. He started wondering what Adrain would do next. The next one was in his favor; his rock against Adrian's scissors, causing dismay to the German Shepherd. And lastly, to Adrian's disappointment, Miles won with paper against rock.

"Let's go!" Miles cheered, and shook Adrian's hand, who chuckled.

"But you still need to hit ten targets, y'know." He grinned playfully. "The last being that mannequin oh-so far away."

"Of course." Miles elbowed him on the arm, and noticed the captain and the soldiers opening those boxes. The chatter between cadets on who gets to go first had died down as soldiers took their places by the table, and at certain segments along the firing line.

"Those at the end." Captain Fennix looked to their left. "Will start from there. The first thing you will get are the ear plugs which will only muffle the sound of the gunfire, but you will hear my orders just fine, followed by the glasses, and magazine. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" They answered.

"After everyone had put on their equipment, and have passed the sound check, the guns will be assembled. Those who will be firing second will be given twenty bullets, ten for your partner, and for yourself. Don't try to cheat, by the way. That is why I have sentries in place."

The cadets took a good long look of the soldiers who stood firm, in fatigues similar to them, but darker, and bore the ranks of corporal. A maple leaf, with two downward arrow tips below it, on their dark green patches.

"These guys can tell if you have an extra bullet in your gun, so don't try anything stupid. Getting caught will get you kicked out of the academy before the day ends. Is. That. Clear?!" Captain Fennix barked.

"Yes sir!"

"Then line up cadets!"

"Yes sir!"

The cadets formed a line starting at the end as they were ordered to. They stepped sideways whenever they passed the sentries, and went through the first three boxes quickly.

"Put on your equipment as soon as you're back in your platforms." One of the female sentries ordered.

"Yes ma'am!" They all shouted, even while they're still in line to obtain their gear.

Miles and Adrian immediately put their earplugs and glasses on. There was a distinct tone to the noise that made the footsteps sound crunchier, and the soft chatter of the cadets more audible.

"How do I sound like?" Adrian tested, to which he sounded someone pitched up, and crisp. "This is surreal."

"Yeah." Miles heard himself speak, and was surprised at how sharp his voice sounded. And he could hear the farthest cadets trying out the sound themselves. The disassociation lasted for a moment as his father got their attention. Everyone had gotten, and put on their equipment.

"Cadets, am I heard loud and clear?!" Captain Fennix yelled.

The earplugs hadn't made him too loud, in fact made his tone bearable, and extremely clear. "Yes sir!" Everyone answered without skipping a beat.

"Good, now everyone squat!"

And everyone got into a squatting position, with their arms reaching forward.

"Alright, that means everyone can really hear me loud and clear." He then said, "Back on your feet cadets, and assemble your guns now. No contest, and keep it on 'safe'."

"Yes sir!" As everyone stood back up, half the cadets crouched and started assembling their rifles again.

To Miles it was already clockwork, already done within forty eight seconds. "Adrian, I tied with the record."

"I'll disassemble it faster than you did then, hah." Adrian snided, patting Miles on the shoulder.

"Alright, the other half will fall in line, starting to my right, and collect ten bullets! Is that clear?!"

"Yes sir!" Adrian, along with the other half of the cadets answered, and fell in line. Within moments Adrian was back holding bullets with a pointed tip. He then held one between his fingers and inspected it. At the bottom, around the ring, it read: '5.56x45mm'.

"Cadets, your attention!" All eyes were on Captain Fennix who had two bullets on one hand, and a ten-round magazine on the other. "First you align the bullet with the magazine feed lips, which are these curvatures at the end of the magazine." He demonstrated. "And it should also go without saying that the tip of the bullet should be facing the barrel, clear?"

"Yes sir!" The cadets answered.

"Then get to it! But do not put the bullets in the magazine until I give the order. Clear cadets?!"

"Yes sir!"

"Is that clear cadets?!"

"Yes sir!"

"Then get to it!"

The cadets huddled in their own pairs and started putting the bullets in the first magazine. Miles and Adrian put one after the other, trying to outdo themselves. Afterwards Miles went back into the line and put the magazine at the opposite of the gun to ensure strict adherence to the rules.

After everyone had finished and set their magazines in a manner similar to Miles, Captain Fennix had an announcement to make.

"Cadets, what is rule number four?"

"Sir! Always keep it unloaded, unless the firing range is declared 'Hot'!"

"Attention, attention!" Captain Fennix yelled "The firing range is now hot!" He repeated "I repeat, the firing range is now hot!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" The soldiers replied in unison.

"Yes, sir!" The cadets followed not long after.

"Cadets, load your magazines!"

"Yes, sir!"

And the first to shoot placed the magazine inside their guns. They made sure it was all the way inside, and tapped the bottom to ensure it was a snug fit. Miles, who had prior experience, softly tugged and made sure it didn't wobble. The cadets firing beside him mimicked his motion and made sure the magazine was in place.

"Do not cock it yet! Prone up on the sandbags!"

And Miles rested his rifle on the sturdy and curved surface. His right hand holding the gun up on its grip, finger away from the trigger, and his left supporting on the handguard just before it met the sandbag. He then closed his right eye, and aligned his left with the aperture, and the gas block's tip. Ahead of him was the same tall grass he saw earlier, now scattered with targets in his own lane. Four bottles for the first fifty feet, then five plates until the hundredth, and lastly that mannequin which was the farthest. His vision narrowed, but his ears flickered in multiple directions picking up the murmurs of other cadets, some of which were encouraging themselves. He even heard his own heart beating fast, that he took a deep breath first to calm himself down.

"Pull the charging handle to the rear, then release!"

Miles, familiar with the weapon's platform, reeled his right arm and pulled the charging handle swiftly, and released. He felt the chamber load up with a live round. The young wolf immediately eyed his first target. The bottle in his sights was ten feet away. He took another deep breath, and held it.

Captain Fennix then declared. "We are hot!" He then said, finally "Fire!"

Bang! A series of simultaneous loud bangs rang out. There was hesitation among everyone, but Miles already fired his next shot after he broke the first bottle, and hit the next one too. The earplugs had done its job as the loud ringing noise he expected was a simple pop instead. His third shot rang out as the other cadets were only firing their second, and he couldn't compare with their performance, only focused on his own. The third, and fourth bottles shattered, and then the plates past fifty feet. The barrel of his gun inched its way up to compensate for shooting further targets.

"Woah." Adrian, impressed. The other soldiers murmured about how each of his shots struck a target. He even heard his father asking for his binoculars as he fired his eight shot, which struck the plate ninety feet away.

Miles fired once more, and his ninth target at one hundred feet away was shattered in pieces. As he aimed for the last target, adjusting the aperture sight as if it were instinct and raised the barrel by another inch, he felt something had awoke within. There was ferocity, rapidly beating in his chest, as his mind was able to process multiple details at once; the murmurs of the soldiers' impressions, the cadets cussing for missing their targets, and even the sound of his father tapping his feet eager to see his son hit that mannequin.

He even heard him mutter "Go for it son..." in a faint whisper-like tone.

Bang! As the last empty bullet case ejected from his gun, and its chamber closed. It clanked against the concrete, and he could've sworn he saw the mannequin's chest smoke for a quick moment.

There was a blurred cheery noise behind him, which implored him to turn around. He then saw the second shooters looking at him, some applauding. Adrian was stunned, with his mouth wide open. Some of the soldiers applauded, and even leaned forward to try and see the mannequin themselves.

Miles then looked to his father who had been mouthing words that he only understood as his body relaxed. The first words he heard then were "...for the marksman school. This is the first time in the last two years I've ever seen someone do that." His father exclaimed.

Most of the gunfire had stopped as some had listened to what Captain Fennix was on about. Except for Christy, who kept on firing. Miles was stunned, but he mustered up from his daze to reply. "Thank you, sir!" He saluted him.

Captain Fenix then hollered at those who stopped. "Come on cadets, don't let him have all the glory! Keep firing!" He added. "He could use a classmate after all!" And he laughed, then offered his binoculars to Miles. Softly spoke to him "Great job, cadet, and switch to your safeties."

"Thank you, sir." Miles replied, borrowing the binoculars. He turned back towards the shooting range and switched the gun to safe, before zooming in with it. There he saw a charred bullet hole on the right breast of the mannequin where its heart would be. He then turned to Adrian and offered him the binoculars.

"Good luck." Miles teased him.

"That's easy." Adrian replied. "You could use a classmate after all."

"Maybe you could be the spotter."

"Nah dude, I'll get the head." He then gave back the binoculars to Captain Fennix. "Thank you, sir."

The gun range was silent two minutes after, then Captain Fennix had an announcement. "Great job, first group! Most of you were able to get more than half your targets, and even one of you was able to score the mannequin at the end." He then challenged them "Second group, hit the mannequin's head next. Is that clear?!"

"Yes sir!" The next group shouted, with Adrian being the loudest.

"First group!"

"Yes sir!" Miles answered along with them.

"Put your safeties on! Then collect your expended bullet cases, and put them in the bin at the end." His finger pointed in the direction of a black bin with a recycling logo on it, but instead of bottles, and plastic, it had a bullet icon. "Do not play with them because they are not toys. Is that clear?!"

"Yes sir!"

After switching their guns to 'safe', the first shooters gathered the expended bullet cases and lined up towards the bin. They deposited them one at a time, and those closer to Miles commended him for his performance. Christy refused to speak about it, nor even glanced at him, which left Miles feeling uncertain.

Captain Fennix announced "First group, your turn to claim the bullets for your partner!"

"Yes sir!" They answered, and lined up to receive ten bullets.

Miles then returned to Adrian who then presented his magazine and took turns inserting the bullets again, both canines chuckled.

"Any tips for me, Miles?" Adrian asked "Or you don't want me to get all ten too, hm?"

"I could always use a classmate." Miles retorted. "Take a deep breath before you fire. But there's something else."

"What'cha mean?" He paused, and looked at him.

Miles exchanged looks with him and shrugged. "There was just this feeling when I fired, and it's just--" He scrambled to express it properly "--like it all made sense for me. A sense of purpose."

Adrian nodded. "I get what you mean, and I hope I have it too."

"Yeah, you'll know after you fire." He remarked. "It may seem overwhelming at first, but it smooths itself out after." Miles' words emboldened Adrian, who then displayed confidence with his gritting teeth, and forward facing ears. He even had to adjust them again so it wouldn't fall off.

After all the next volunteers had loaded their mags, Captain Fennix was ready to recommence the exercise. "Cadets! Make sure that the fire selection is on 'safe'. Then press the button above the magazine to unload it. Reload with the loaded one after. Do not cock it until I give the order."

"Yes sir!"

Adrian went prone, and followed Captain Fennix's instructions down to the word. He unloaded the magazine and placed it beside his right leg, before reloading with a loaded magazine. Even copied Miles' adjustments by tapping the magazine to make sure it was secure.

"Copycat." Miles sneered, chuckling.

"What was that?" Adrian turned his head and chuckled too. "You want me to copy you hitting your shots too?"

"I'd like to see you try." Miles stuck his tongue out.

"Enough with the chatter!" Captain Fennix walked the line and ensured everyone had loaded their weapon. Upon full inspection "Pull the charging handle, now!"

And Adrian made quick work of pulling the handle, then releasing after the mechanism had allowed the bullet to enter the chamber. He then positioned himself properly on the sandbags. Letting the end of the handguard, just inches before the gas block, rest on them. His fingers firmly grasped where his receiver would meet it, and Miles could tell the canine's eyes were tracking his own set of targets too.

"Good luck." Miles whispered, and crossed his arms in astute observation. His gut feeling told him that Adrian would be more than capable, if not perfect, to land nine out of ten shots.

Captain Fennix then repeated the same announcement although much louder. "The firing range is now hot! I repeat, the firing range is now hot!" He then said "You may fire!"

Miles watched the others fire ahead of him, while Adrian took a deep breath first before pulling the trigger. He was able to hit the closest bottle, then followed up with another shot, hitting the target ten feet further behind.

The young wolf then noticed two details. He apparently did not pay attention to the other cadets cheering their partners on, and that Adrian's tail wagged throughout the exercise. Every swish of a tail marked another hit target, and his body language, while crawled, had a very stable posture. The German Shepherd's elbows were glued to the cement, and his legs were spread out with his right knee bent upward to help negate the recoil. Good form, he thought, and surely recalled having that too when he laid down not too long ago. Miles also noted that the other cadets were too tense, and jittery.

Several more shots rang out from Adrian's gun. The last three were even in quick succession. Miles was impressed, and apparently so was his father who walked up beside him. The young wolf stepped aside for the older wolf who had his binoculars on his glasses.

"Your ability seemed to have rubbed off on your friend, cadet." Captain Fennix commended highly with a hearty chuckle. "Have a different partner next time." He joked, still focused on the mannequin just before Adrian's tenth shot rang out.

And as it did, Miles saw his father's lips curve with his lower lips sucked in excitement. He smiled too, and saw the smoke plume from the mannequin's head. Miles couldn't help but applaud, as his father started exclaiming.

"Bullseye! Right between the eyes too!" The captain laughed, and cheered. "Great job cadet!" And he clapped on. It drowned out the sound of gunfire, which then paused as he cheered on.

Miles saw the other soldiers clapping too. He glanced down at a bewildered Adrian turned to him, whose tail wagged faster.

"Did I really?" Adrian glanced between him and the captain.

"Check it for yourself!" The old wolf passed him his binoculars.

"Thank you, sir." He borrowed it again, and fixated his sights on the mannequin.

"Copycat." Miles chuckled, and gently nudged his boot with his own.

"Nah dude, I shot the head." Adrian beamed. "You're the copycat."

"Enough chatter!" The captain interrupted, "Range is still hot!"

And the gunfire resumed for a few more moments. Most of the cadets had three rounds left, while some had finished unsatisfied with their performance. Miles gave them a thumbs up in solidarity, to which they nodded with a hint of defeat. He could hear Christy still giving them words of encouragement, but he took into consideration what Adrian told him earlier.

"Miles, it happened to me too." Adrian got his attention, patting his shoulder.

"How'd it feel?" Miles related, offering his hand to shake.

"Very exhilarating!" The German Shepherd took a deep breath and shook Miles' offer. "I think we're meant to be soldiers, dude."

"Y'know what?" He gazed at the struck mannequin, which was now a symbol of their awakening as the soldiers of Canada. A single bullet hole on its chest and another in its head, with their lane lacking any more targets; an impressive feat to become marksmen. "I know we are."