One of the Wo-men / Part I Redemption

[Caira Ayryn]

A very small and unfortunate Secondary male found himself stuck with the loose, heavier and more scraggly armor to train in, as "survival of the fittest" even applied to the equipment room. She took hers off with a brief and dismissive sigh and the guy looked startled as his flustered fingers fluttered around the many intricate clasps of the suit. When the male noticed she was taking hers off, he looked startled and shyly backed away, not wanting any trouble or assuming something invariably suggesting.

Caira didn’t regard the thoughts skimming his mind but held out the nicer set of armor wordlessly and heaved the heavy chain-mail he had worn over her head. “There then, it’s an even trade,” she said with a smile to the youth. Immediately she was weighed down with a robust and more than draining sense of fatigue. Her joints groaned against the force as they attempted to distribute the weight she now hoisted in her torso.

Second to last one out of the supply room sprouted the weak Secondary with a lighter load and an ecstatic bounce in his step; never had he been more joyous. Apparently, he was lucky enough to get the old armor frequently -if not daily- as the larger men with more bulk would push and bully him out of the way, keeping the better sets out of his reach.

Meanwhile, the Prime clenched her teeth and trudged on. As she exited the equipment room last - with a lack of breath at every slow movement - gravity bore down on her once more and it reminded her of the Nexus when she had first crash-landed into the Omniverse. The splitting headache hadn’t stopped her from performing the painstaking drills with the rest of the soldiers and by the end of the day, her energy reserves had grown nil.

With numerous casting glances, she realized that many more men were respecting the small Secondary she had traded with. He had kept up during their five mile jog, and even had defeated the training captain in a spar. “Great job Kobi!” People pat his back and congratulated him as she collapsed with the armor still on her and later took it off piece by hefty piece as it clattered in a pile at the base of her makeshift hammock in the storage shed she now called home. The increased gravity would test her muscles, her limits, and her willpower. The added weight training would make every movement swift, and fluid with finesse after adapting from the momentous strain of pain upon her. Her heavy eyes glanced at the pile of old, dingy armor as she commanded, “You will make me stronger.”