Syarrhe [SPECTRA - BOOK ONE]

Chapter Five

The song in the attached media is Syarrhe's new theme song.

Image is Amandla Stenberg, how I picture Carrhe

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The troops quite enjoyed their kitchen duty and night PT almost as much as they enjoyed the quality time with their sergeant- meaning they didn't enjoy it at all.

Syarrhe ran them through group exercises every day, more obstacle courses and tasks, and eventually the teamwork started to appear. They formed a system to accomplish all of their tasks to clean the mess hall, rotating through the twelve to do different tasks across the two weeks; for the last two days, everyone picked the task they preferred. The night PT laid bags beneath their eyes, but hardened their muscles and raised their endurance. They had only ten minutes total to eat, meaning they came in, got their food, sat down anywhere, ate quickly, and fell in outside. There wasn't a single moment they were allowed to rest, except the five hours each night, and if they chose to try for a five-minute nap rather than shower.

And in two weeks, Syarrhe had achieved unit cohesion.

She worked with them, of course; she wasn't exempt from any of their activities. She had to tie the rope bridges, assemble the obstacles, develop the exercises, lead the night PT, and do her part cleaning the Command Quarter while the others cleaned the mess hall and their own bunks.

It was as Syarrhe laced up her boots that a knock came to the door to her quarters and she called out, "Come in!"

The knob turned in a tentative hand and the door shifted to reveal Carrhe. She peeked in. "I'm sorry to come to your quarters-"

Syarrhe yanked the knot in her laces tight and rose to her feet. "Privates aren't allowed in the Command Quarter, Carrhe."

"I know," she ducked hurriedly into the room, closing the door behind her and standing timidly in front of it, her eyes wide. Syarrhe was a heartbeat from reprimanding her when she realized Carrhe was visibly shaking; the girl was still in her pajamas, as if she had come straight here.

"Carrhe, what's wrong?" Syarrhe demanded.

Carrhe's trembling grew more violent and the sergeant felt her heartbeat quicken, though she kept composure.

"Come here," Syarrhe said, walking to the private. She put a palm flat on Carrhe's shoulderblade and moved her forward a little, locking the door, and then walked Carrhe to a chair in Syarrhe's room. "Sit, please."

Carrhe sat, still looking frightened, and didn't even flinch at the fact Syarrhe the Hard-Ass had just used the word please. Carrhe's dark chocolate eyes were wide, and her skin, usually a rich fawn shade, had paled. Syarrhe knelt in front of the private, catching her eyes.

"Carrhe, listen to me. I need you to tell me what's wrong. I can't help you if you don't, and I will do what I can to help you. You're quiet, but you're a good troop, and I can't see you sneaking into the Command Quarter over something trivial. You're here now; talk to me."

Carrhe took a shaking breath and Syarrhe saw the strength come back to the girl's eyes. Carrhe straightened her back some; her tremors slowed. "I- I have to report something."

Syarrhe nodded, staring earnestly at her troop. What the stars had happened to this girl?

"It wasn't anything that happened to me, it- it was something I saw."

Syarrhe nodded again, a continue please motion. Carrhe swallowed, breaking eye contact.

"I wasn't sure how to report it, but I came here straight away- I- I had heard rumors but I denied them because it was hard to believe, but I've learned since then that it's true. You know the Skydian, Twel'Kijo? Of course you do. She- um- she and some of the others- they- they assaulted Kramer."