Greyson was excited. His mother had recognized his talents and put him right where he wanted to be. He knew this "training" was a mere formality but once it was over he would have everything he ever wanted: Power, influence, rank, and the chance to show he was much better suited to running the planet than his so-called brother. He was the true born son of the Queen. Why was his station ever in question? The moment he was born Marley should have been dropped in the mines with the rest of the dirty slaves. Granted, he was strong, but he wasn't Rednasi, there was no way he should have any semblance of a claim to the throne. Make no mention of the fact that the fool didn't even want the blasted throne. None of that mattered now, Greyson could never best Marley in a fight, but he would outshine his "brother" in every other way imaginable, and it all started today. For that, Greyson was excited.
It was the middle of the first week of Greyson's training and he had demanded to be given a tour of the special operation training facility. Here was where the most elite soldiers received their training. From the queen's guard to the infiltration teams, even spies and various special agents, these were the best of the best, and the only troops that Greyson actually cared about. As he was brought to each area of training, Greyson stared with a judgy intensity while he silently compared their training to his own, making mental notes of which lessons he wanted to learn himself. He was being led by the Special Operations commander, Cmdr. Boulevard. They were near the end of their tour and Boulevard decided to cut through the hand-to-hand fighting pit to get to his office and show his young charge what his own role was in the grand military scheme. As the pair neared the middle of the pit boulevard caught wind of a conversation two large burly men were having at a volume that was obviously meant to be overheard. One glance identified the men as shock troops, men trained to be living battering rams. Their whole job was to enter an enemy area, cause as much destruction as possible, and leave. Their motto was "Hit it hard, if that don't work, hit is harder!". They were standing nearby shirtless, showing off their hulking physiques, scoffing and laughing at the young prince trying to goad him into a fight.
"That's him?" said the first man by way of mockery. "This is the golden spoon baby that's supposed to be our new boss?"
"Queen's own son from what I heard" laughed the second. "Little guy looks fresh out the nursery!"
"Milky white kid don't look like he could fight his way inside a bag of rations, he's gonna be supreme commander?"
"Tell me about it, I can smell the titty milk on his breath from here!"
Boulevard turned to advise the young prince to ignore the two fools, but as he did, he saw that Greyson had already made his way over to the bigger of the two and was standing nose to nose with his heckler. The commander knew if anything happened to the prince, the queen would be furious, but he decided to let things play out anyway.
Greyson had been mocked his whole life due to the gap between his physical abilities and his brother's. The sycophants at the palace, at least, gave him the courtesy of waiting until they thought he couldn't hear them. There was no way he could let such brazen disrespect stand. He strode over and got right in the face of the larger of the two men. Though they were the same height, the brute was almost twice as wide as Greyson.
"Is there a problem trooper?" Greyson asked, anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot, clenching and unclenching his fist, eyes wide with anger, red-faced, looking ready to explode at any moment. "Do you have something you would like to say to your Supreme Commander?"
"Not especially, Sir." The trooper's voice was calm but filled with sarcastic amusement. He took a lower, more menacing tone as he continued. "Me and my buddy here were just saying that a high-born like yourself should stay out of the battle pit. It would be a shame if something bad were to happen to you."
Greyson stopped moving. "Is that a threat trooper?"
"It's a warning. Rank don't matter in the pit; people get hurt bad here all the time"
"How about I show you where you can shove that warning."
"You're welcome to try little p..."
Before he could finish talking Greyson threw his head forward landing a devastating headbutt on the bridge of the man's nose. The loud crunch was drowned out by the guttural growl the bigger man let out as he stumbled backward. Before he could regain his composure, he met with a hard kick to his solar plexus driving the wind from his lungs. He went to double over in pain but found a knee waiting for him. Stumbling back again he clutched at his shattered face with both hands. He tried to take in a breath but found nothing in his throat but blood. He tried to cough it up just as his groin exploded with pain. He fell in a heap to his knees then flopped onto his side unconscious.
In the time it took the rest of the men in the room to crowd around to watch the fight, it was over. Disgusted but satiated, Greyson stood over his fallen foe and spat on his body. He raised his head and regarded the room of astonished warriors coldly. He smoothed out his uniform with his hands and slowly began to speak.
"I am Greyson, the true-born son of Queen LasTirk. What you have heard is true, I will be named Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces once I am done with my so-called training. There is one thing you all need to understand. Though I am young enough to be a son to many of you, and you all have more combat experience than I, I am no pampered prince. I came up the hard way, the Rednasi way. Every day of my life I have trained, and I have fought, I have lived by the Rednasi creed that the STRONG will rule the weak. I am not here to make friends, nor am I here to make enemies, I am only here to ensure we have the finest army in the Rednas Empire. Now, if any of you have a problem with that, or an issue with me, you are welcome to join this one in voicing your concern."
Neither the sincerity nor the venom in Greyson's words were lost on the crowd as all remained silent once the prince finished speaking. Greyson scanned the faces of the crowd and found neither fear nor astonishment. The men standing before him were the best, strongest, most fearsome fighters their army had to offer, and more than most the only thing they respected was strength. As he looked around, he knew he had shown strength, and that strength earned their respect.