Reuben cracked his eyes open despite the throbbing behind his temples. Somehow he was in his bunk. Straining to recall how he got there he remembered being on the training mission... going after one of the ambushers... and then nothing.
The barrack door opened and Ruben struggled to an upright position to see who approached.
"Sergeant!" he began to push himself up off the bed to issue a formal salute.
"At ease, cadet. I know the stun setting on those V7s pack a pretty serious punch. The first time I got hit with one I was unconscious for three days. You've only been out for a few hours. You got lucky."
Reuben collapsed back onto the bed. "Yes, sir."
Bamtrob crossed his arms the way he always did when he was about to issue a serious lecture. "That was a pretty crazy stunt you pulled out there, cadet. It was reckless. You should have spent far more time surveying your attack position, your distraction tactic was childish and you got yourself knocked out in the process."
Well, there goes the rest of my career in Special Assault. "Yes, sir."
"But you got results and I can't argue with that. You alerted your squad to the ambush in time and they managed to successfully complete the objective. You can wipe that 'vertin grin off your face because it's not like you were even awake to see the victory."
Reben tried and failed to assume a sober expression.
"The higher ups liked your little stunt even though I said you're still too green. But they wanted to give you a promotion. Congratulations, cadet. You're third degree. Don't make them regret this decision."
Reuben saluted from his prone position. "Yes, sir! And thank you, sir!"
"Yeah, whatever. Let's just hope that reckless streak doesn't get you killed on Gittern."