Zero Tolerance: Battle Drills

[diabolicalfiend]

Title: Battle Drills
Author: diabolicalfiend
Characters/Pairing: Zero, Razor and Colin
Rating: G
Summary: Colin's worthiness is questioned.
Warning: Minor teen angst.
Disclaimer: I don't own Tin Man or Zero. Razor and Colin are my OCs though
Word Count: 1115






They were now in the heart of the danger zone, so few were using the training area set up for their stop. In fact, Colin had spent a great deal of his time here alone. Mostly, practicing his firing skills. His grandfather had taught him well, and his aim was quite good, if not perfect.

He stiffened when Razor approached. Razor was stiff too, obviously in CO-mode. "Good," he murmured. "But it is obvious that it is your hand-to-hand is what requires work."

Colin was about to retort when he found a sword being thrust into his hand by the handle. It was heavier than it looked and immediately dropped into the mud beneath them. Hoisting it up with both hands, he tried to make it balance in the textbook stance.

"Hawk's men have taken to using swords in close quarters," Razor explained, hefting his own as if it was an extention of himself. "Defend yourself."

Before Razor even moved to strike, he saw that the way Colin was swinging the sword was going to take his arm off. Making a wince that was all to familiar to Colin, he lowered his own. "That's not the proper grip," he grumbled, reaching out to fix it. "One hand must reinforce the other..."

Colin yanked the sword away. "I understand."

Razor swallowed his anger. "Then proceed."

Colin began to circle him, as Razor remained where he was, moving only to keep Colin his vision. Without giving any outward sign, Razor struck at the boy. Colin jerked his blade up in time to intercept him, the resulting collision reverberating through his body.

"No!" Razor barked in irritation. "Don't try to shove my sword away. Deflect it and use the momentum to counter!"

"I know!" Colin snapped back.

"Then do it!" He swung again. Out of habit, Colin blocked in the same way as before. The impact managed to jar him dangerously off balance. "Don't try to fight force with force! You will lose every time!" He swung again. Colin tried to counter, but ended up with empty hands as Razor sent his weapon flying. "What did I tell you? Pick it up!" Colin send him a murderous glare as he complied. "If you had kept practicing what I'd told you as a boy..."

Pulling the blade from the ground, he rushed his father, wildly swinging it at him. Razor blocked each one maddingly easily, but was bewildered by the fanatic hostility in his son's face. With a rough shove, Razor once again sent the sword flying. The momentum brought his own blade close to Colin's throat.

"What is wrong with you?"

Colin pushed Razor's sword away. "I knew it would be like this."

Razor lowered the sword. "Like what?"

"You must be pleased," Colin began suddenly moving forward, making Razor step back else he'd impale his son. "Now you can tell me what a failure I am."

"Colin..." Razor lowers his blade to the ground, because Colin continued to push forward.

"Or are you just going send me away again?"

"We are not playing, Colin," Razor replied, trying to regain his position. "This is war. The Browncoats will cut you to pieces."

Colin wasn't prepared to give up the ground he's finally gained. "Then I will be dead and you will be pleased! Now leave me alone!"

Razor stared him for a moment before replacing his weapon and walking off.


Zero just had finished his tour of the camp when Razor walked in, dropped a file on his desk and walked out with barely a word.


Colin was exhausted, even as he went through the exercise again. His movements were clumsy, slow. General Zero's arrival didn't help the cause. He restarted the exercise again, only this time, the sword fell to ground, narrowly missing his foot. Zero stepped forward and picked it up, laying it across his hands, testing its balance. He nodded. "Fine blade. Well balanced," he shot a penetrating look at Colin. "But in the end, it was only as good as the soldier who wields it."

"I need more practice," Colin admitted.

"Rest for a minute. Look like you could use it." Colin shifted under Zero's gaze. "Tell me, Colin Wise... why are you in my company?"

"To serve my Queen and country, sir."

Zero pulled a face at that, replacing the sword into the rack. "That is a slogan, not an answer." He looked at him. "Tell me what's your heart."

"You ask everyone this question?" Colin retorted.

Zero's eyes glinted dangerously. He advanced slowly on Colin. "I have no need to ask them anything! I look in their faces, I see why they are here! They are soldiers. They have answered the call of duty!"

"So have I!"

"Lie to yourself, fine. Not to me. You don't hear the call. So. Why are you here?"

"I'd rather not say."

Zero blinked. "WHAT?" he shouted.

Colin jumped at the sudden volume, but he didn't want to talk about it. "It is a private matter," he insisted.

Zero snorted. "You are as tight-lipped as your father."

"I am nothing like him," Colin retorted bitterly.

"You are BOTH stubborn, TIRESOME asses! The only difference is: I need him. I don't need you."

"All I ask is a chance to prove myself."

"I just gave you one. Your father has requested that you be transferred."

"He has no right!"

"He has every RIGHT! Both as your superior officer and your father!" He calmed himself. "At twenty three seventeen, you will gather some food, take a horse and leave. Collect your gear. Now."

Colin was almost shivering with rage but he turned and left.


Razor was sitting, staring at his long-cold meal. He jumped when the dagger was thrown into the table. He glared at the owner, his son. "If you want me gone, you're going to have to kill me."

"Don't tempt me." Razor looked away before turning back to Colin. "I don't want to hurt you, Son. I want to help you."

"By getting rid of me?" Colin asked, sounding like the child Razor remembered. "All you've done my whole life is send me away."

"I lead a soldier's life. That's not your path. You told me that. And I have come to accept it."

"You call ignoring me 'accepting it'? You call yourself 'my father' but you haven't tried to see me or talk to me for five years!" He paused, seeing the effect of his words on him. It was devastating him. "I wasn't the kind of son you wanted so you pretended you didn't have one. You never 'accepted' me, you abandoned me."

Before Razor could summon up a reply, the alert sounded.