Tup C3: Alliance

Unless you previously finished high school, if you were eighteen or younger it was mandatory to finish the basic education. Taz was now a 9th grader.

The school was part of the base – it had enough room for all of the children to be crammed into it, since it wasn't everyone. The students all had been 'chosen' or had 'proven themselves,' so. They were the students who would go out and fight one day for the League. The young Argentinian had expected the majority of the to have some sort of maturity.

Apparently not.

"Class, this is our new student, Taz. You can sit over in the left corner by the windows." the teacher pointed out her desk, and she couldn't be more thankful – Taz had excelled in English at her school, but that wasn't much, especially since school had been cut short. She had no idea how she went off at Up a couple nights before, recalling that most of the rant was English and Spanish mixed together.

The thought of the Lieutenant came into her head, and the fresh bandages on her arms, chest and stomach made her think back, her hazy memory returning in bits and pieces. She remembered being hit, but what else? Being saved. . . being strung down from the tree, and then being carried. Losing consciousness, but who was carrying her? Was it really Up who had seen the wounds all over her body after she was beaten by those robots?

It was then that she remembered the dog tag of the man who carried her. LCDR Up, something after that. . .

It wasn't often that her memory failed her – she could normally recall even the tiniest of details. But the harder she thought of what was on the tag, the more it seemed to slip away.

But one thing was for sure – it really was Up who had carried her to safety.

She had screamed at him the other night. Even asked him why she was here, alive.

Taciana, no, Taz, couldn't deny the bit of guilt that sunk into her.

She had went off on the lieutenant in correct English. At home in Argentina, she spent most of her days reading. She had read as many books as she could find in the challenging language, and would look up the definitions of words she didn't understand. It was always stressed to her in class that sometime or another, she would have to learn the prominent global language. This was sooner than she thought it would be, but perhaps that's what helped her along with communicating to him.

And, well, now she was in an entire community that spoke mostly English.

The teacher had been talking or something, but Taz wasn't paying attention. She had been given a notebook and a pencil, but what was going on was beyond her. The kid sitting next to her kept giving her funny looks, his eyes scanning over her the bandages that were put on her arms, but she ignored him. There was a bookshelf a couple seats up from her. She got up from her seat, walked over to the shelf and began to look through them when she got caught.

"Taz, what are you doing while I'm teaching? Please go back to your seat."

Confused, she returned back to her desk, slumping in her seat. Looking at the board, she realized only then that it was math class – she absolutely loathed the class. Even in Spanish she had difficulty grasping most concepts, but now in English? However, despite her intense hatred for the subject, she at least knew this stuff. She followed along with the class diligently, but after finishing the notes and copying the homework it was . . . well, stupid. She already knew all of this.

She had finished her homework then, going back to the shelf once more and trying to find something she could understand. If all of her classes were a repeat of something she already learned, she would need something to pass by the time.

The bell rung and everyone stood up, getting ready to move to their next class. Taz collected her things, folded the corner of the page she was on and pulled out the paper she had been given the previous night that listed all over her classrooms.

The next class was a science, and on the paper it said biology – biología. At least it wasn't as boring as math class.

She soon began to realize that she knew most of the information, if not all. As her classes continued, she gave up on writing the notes and was yelled at three more times for standing up and trying to go to the bathroom without permission, and eventually gave up and read her book the entire time.

By the end of the day, word about a strange girl looming the halls had spread. Most people thought she was slow, but it was quite the opposite. She didn't want to go back just yet – being alone inside was something she disliked even more, so she sat on the ground nearby the school, in between the building and the obstacle course and track for the soldiers, a fence separating the two areas. While she was reading, Taz was pulled out of the fictional world when she heard a voice yelling violently.

"Get up!"

A soldier who had just been in the dirt was easily raised in the air by Up by his collar. The rest of the men who had been running the obstacle course glanced in his direction, feeling pity for him – no one wanted to get on the Lieutenant Commander's bad side.

"You think you can just slack around while some of us here are working our asses off? You do not jog the field, you do not leisurely go through those tires. You are sprinting, and you are climbing through this like it will eat your sorry ass." the other man was silent.

"Don't you DARE to look away from me, soldier! You will look me straight at me when I talk to you!"

Up threw him onto the ground, glaring at him and looking at the rest of the men who had been watching.

"What the fuck are you all looking at?" his fist and his palm met, the crack of skin hitting skin echoing.

Taz's eyes were glued to the scene. For some reason, she wasn't afraid when she saw Up – all she felt was respect. It was also comforting to know the man who had saved her wasn't just some random soldier, but someone who really did have courage . . . even if he did come off as a little mean.

"Hey, you're the new kid, right?"

She looked up to a group of kids towering above her – sure she was sitting down, but she would still be around another head shorter than them when she stood up. After all, Taz was only around five feet tall. She nodded to the girl who had asked the question, who was wearing shorts that were hiked the furthest up anyone's legs and into their crotch that Taz had ever seen in her life.

"My name is Lily. I'm a sophomore here."

"What the hell is a sophomore?" she thought to herself.

They sat down next to her and started probing her with questions – she eventually gave up on reading her book and gave simple responses, their voices practically laced with artificial interest and sarcasm. But eventually, they began to poke fun at her. And she didn't really know what to do.

After all, she hadn't bothered to pick up English slang, or even insults. So as they pelted hurtful words at her, all she really saw were distorted and twisted faces. They messed with her hair, opened up her book, tossed it around as she tried to grab at it and even threw it over by the training area over the fence. Guess she'd never know how it would end, by the looks of it.

She stopped answering as they continued their bullying.

Taz couldn't understand what was going on. After all, how could she when they spoke so fast and her answers obviously didn't suffice their curiosity.

There were some words she caught. Rude, she knew what that meant. Disrespectful. What had she done so far that was disrespectful? Were customs that different in North America?

This time, the same girl who had been wearing the short-shorts tugged at Taz's hair, hard.

"Stop!"

Taz shut her eyes and swung, slapping the girl's hand away, and just the sound made her feel guilty. She gasped when she finally saw what she had done. Lily's pale skin was red, and it began to welt, cursing under her breath as she left with the entire group to go get ice. One of the boys who stood with her shoved Taz, hard.

"You better watch your back, little man."

Man?

Left confused and with a scraped palm, she sighed. The first day of school didn't really go as she had planned. Knowing, er, Lola, or whatever her name was, she probably would tell the entire school that Taz was some sort of vicious beast. It wasn't the first she had been an outsider, but . . . this was worse. She didn't understand most of the rules here, even less her peers, and the kids found her a fun bullying target. She didn't even know how to react around them socially.

It was different back in Argentina . . .

Thoughts of her family and friends poured back into her mind; her mother, making food and calling her down repeatedly for dinner, her sister, who would ask to be picked up whenever she had the chance, her brothers who she would wrestle with and who taught her how to fight. But none of them were with her.

None of them were even alive anymore.

She was all alone, with enemies. What could she do?

Taking in a deep breath of air, her chest was constrained by the bandages, and she was tempted to take them off. There was a wound across her back and a few on the front of her torso, and if they got infected she would be in for a nightmare. She decided against it and rubbed her eyes, refusing to cry anymore – she hated being weak.

The thought of Up came back into her mind.

"Stop crying."

Sniffling, she looked up to see her book being offered to her. It had bits and pieces of dirt and grass in between the pages, but there were no tears, no creases in the spine.

"Sorry if it's still a little dirty, I tried the best I could." Taz took the paperback and squinted, trying to see the boy's face through the sunlight. He extended his hand, which had dirt caked in between the grooves of his skin.

Taz hesitated, but what was the worst he could do? Push her back down? She took his hand, and he helped her get up. She murmured a thanks under her breath.

He had brown hair that stopped at his shoulders and equally pigmented eyes. He was only an inch or two taller than Taz. He smiled.

"My name's Junior. Maybe you've heard of me."