Titanium

006|| fight for your right

—| fight for your right |—

Issac hit the ground of the training room hard, his hand hitting the mat with a soft thump. He groaned in pain, feeling the back of his head. He looked up at Callius, who stared at his student, hovering above him.

Callius had taken to wearing a gray tank top, explicitly showing his muscles. His years of experience were far more better than Issac's future ahead of him. That was just if Issac didn't start getting better at blocking the more effective defensive play.

Even only two weeks into his training, he could tell he pretty much sucked against Callius. But who was he kidding by training with a Starfleet admiral, who took his time off to train a boy like him. Callius was the one who had years of training, Issac was the one who'd always land on the floor.

'65 times I've fallen on the floor' Issac thought to himself. He could've sworn he had fallen more, maybe even just from sliding onto the floor. 

"You're getting better," Callius said, his face not even pricked with sweat. He made it seem like Issac was a sheep in lion's clothing. Issac's face slightly red from the aggressive movements and using his energy. Sometimes even regretting he hadn't brought himself something to drink after practices.

"Not really," Issac huffed, seeing Callius had offered him his hand to get up. Issac took his instructors hand, pulling himself back to his feet. 

"Don't doubt yourself," Callius said, firmly, "Nobody's perfect at first tries."

Issac sighed. Callius was right, just as he always was. Something that bothered him so much.

Callius tossed him a gun which Issac captured quickly within his grip. Turning onto his knee and shooting the target human board behind him in the head target. Watching as the cardboard cutout bursted a hole.

Issac took the second bullet that was in the gun and aimed at the heart target. Pulling the trigger after a quick moment of calculations. He watched as the bullet plunged into the red painted circles, cutting into the cardboard.

Two appear at holes were now plastered into the cutout.

"Your aim is more accurate. But less hesitation on the second shot," Callius commented. 

"But what if I miss if I don't calculate it?" Issac asked, wanting to know why Callius thought so.

"Sometimes it's better to be fast than allow a split second advantage to your enemies," Callius told him, "Get a drink, eat something. We'll try again."

"Understood," Issac sighed. He had been so keen on getting better he had forgotten how thirsty he was and how much he had drained his energy. His throat was drier than Mars itself.

Callius sat down over on a bench while Issac went over to another bench. He grabbed the red canteen on water, twisting the cap off quickly. He began pouring the water into his mouth, dappled water flowed into his throat. Absent-mindlessly almost drinking half of the canteen.