Myrian Training

+Sub-sector Palmyra, Segmentum Tempestus+
+Death world Myr, Arby System+
++Apostesy Age, 4th year++

Layan Harb was not particularly that much stronger or faster compared to other PDF troopers but she was a great shot. In the mock battles out in the vast deserts of this dust ball, accuracy would be a great trait just because of the lack of cover. The heat was rising off of the dunes and engaging targets at long ranges was becoming pretty much impossible as the twin suns set. Harb’s squad was code name “Kordoba”, after one of the local cities which the members of the Harb tribe still considered pretty foreign. Even after hundreds of years of unification since the end of the Great Crusade, cities like Korboba and Merako were still considered foreign to half of Myrians. “Come on now open up your bags again!” demanding Layan as her squad groans at the surprise inspection. With just waiting for nightfall to arrive Layan decided to pass the time by inspecting her squad’s kits just like two days ago. Eyes and hands dug through everything in the bag to try to find any trace of alcohol. “It seems like there are no more contrabands this time, well I don't think you guys enjoy being forced to watch a whipping, judging by how some squirm like children or looked away,” Layan said.

Indeed she had found a canteen of ale in the last inspection then dumped it into the sand in front of the owner’s eyes. The boy was 17 or 18 making him at least 3 years younger than Layan, he probably didn't even spend a year in the PDF yet. Right then and there, the boy drew his dueling dagger then shouting “I, Nesem Hame, formally challenge you, Layan Harb, for attacking his honor!” Followed by snickers from the squad and a laugh from Layan. Normally these types of duels shouldn't result in death or even blood if both duelists are skilled enough, but there was the fire of reckless in Nesem’s eyes when he attacked. Layan threw a dagger between right between his legs before he could react, causing him to slow down and trip up. In the confusion, Layan used the basics of Close-Quarters-Combat she had become familiar at, to disarm Nesem. He tried to back away but was caught with a left jab then a right hook followed by his right arm being twisted and a leg sweep at the same time. People would be surprised how painful the human head can feel being slammed into the sand. With his right arm still being twisted behind his back and a knee on him, Nesem was as helpless as a flopping fish in the middle of a desert. Leaning close to his left ear to say “You lost your honor and I retain my rank” before Layan ordered a trooper to tie his hands together on the front.

It was dawn when Kordoba squad was made to stand at attention and face Sargent Harb with Private Hame tied to an old wooden post before anybody could eat breakfast. The upstart greenhorn was stripped of everything above his waist as he stood still in dread.

“You all know that alcohol and alcoholic food are sacer within all Myrii military and police forces, except for medical alcohol.” Layan would force a cry from Nesem with a whip.

“It is expressly forbidden via the holy laws written on the first palm leaves.” Whipping again but was careful not to draw blood.

“Not to mention in this grand desert, I don't want to see my subordinates accidentally committing suicide by dehydration!” Another lash hits the back yet avoiding striking the same place twice.

“We should know that suicide by our own hands is also sacer by the holy laws. I swear to my ancestors if I find another drop of alcohol in Kordoba squad, I’ll think of something worst than 50 lashes for all of you!” There were 47 lashes to go and time seemed to slow down as the whipping went on. Finally with Layan breaking a tiny bit of a sweat she had finished while Nasem laid slumped on the ground. “Medic cut the rope and fix him up. Make sure he doesn't have permanent damage.” Rushing on the trooper with a hand gesture. She rubbed her forehead and dismissed everybody before whispering, “I can't believe I’m going to be a Guardsman” then sighing.