Chapter 27 The Weak Link

 "Ah yes," West continued, "I should mention that those who have no partner yet are allowed to switch between combat pilot and mobility roles during the test. I'll be generous enough to give you that much. Consider it a gift... or maybe just an opportunity to save your skin. Now get moving!"

The first four groups prepared to enter the VR tank mech cockpits. Two groups of nerds exchanged nervous glances as they stepped up to their designated tanks. The other two groups were comprised of muscleheads who flexed their muscles and swaggered with confidence, ready to kick some ass.

The nerds, adjusting their glasses and fiddling with their tablets, huddled close as they entered their cockpits. One of them, named Oliver, whispered to his partner, “Do you think we can pull this off? I mean, it’s not like we’ve ever scored big in combat training. And with only 8 pairs of pilots plus a new girl 200,000 score feels out of reach more than ever.”

His partner, Maya, sighted, her fingers flying across the screen as she activated the cockpit controls. 

“Relax, Oliver! It’s just a simulation, right? We’ll just need to stick to the plan. Follow my lead, and we’ll be fine. We just need to do our best.”

The muscleheads were taking a very different approach. Blake, a burly powerhouse with an insatiable appetite for competition, pounded a fist into his palm and laughed.

 “Come on, guys! This is going to be a piece of cake! Those nerds might as well be playing video games while we’re out here saving the day!” He shot a wink at his teammate, Alex, who cracked his knuckles and nodded in agreement, ready to unleash their physical prowess on the virtual battlefield.

“Just remember, if we take too long, we’ll all be doing fifty laps! Let's go in and bash some mutants!” Alex warned, grinning widely. 

Each group entered their respective cockpits. The screens flickered to life, displaying vital statistics, mission objectives, and a countdown timer ticking away at the top of the display.

Maya’s voice echoed through the cockpit, “Alright, everyone, here’s the plan: We’ll cover each other and watch the flanks. If we stick close, we can maximize our firepower! But first, we need to secure the ammo drop and reload weapons. Then secure a safe point, near the second ammo drop to save time.”

Meanwhile, in the musclehead cockpit, Blake leaned back in his seat, hands behind his head, oozing confidence.

 “Ha! I say we go in guns blazing! Who needs strategy when we can just overpower everything in our way? Let’s show them how it’s done! Come on! Knife time, baby! Woooohaaaa!”

As the countdown reached zero, the virtual world materialized around them. The sound of distant explosions and the buzz of machinery filled the cockpits, immersing each group in the battle. The nerds quickly took cover, relying on their intellect and teamwork, while the muscleheads charged ahead, shouting battle cries as they barreled into the battle armed only with tank knives, eager to prove their strength.

Outside the VR room, Instructor West stood in front of the large monitor, arms crossed, his face slowly sliding into a palm as he watched the battle. Disappointment etched deep into his face, he muttered under his breath, “For the love of God… they had a decent plan for once, but what did they do? Idiots run off like monkeys, while the nerds cower behind rubble. This is embarrassing to watch.”

The first two groups had already crumbled spectacularly. The muscleheads, fueled by confidence, charged headfirst into the horde of mutants. They barely lasted a few minutes before being wiped out, their score barely hitting 12,000 points. West couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief. 

“What were you thinking? There’s a time to be reckless, and this wasn’t it!”

As the nerds’ turn came around, he leaned closer to the screen, hoping they might salvage the situation. They took advantage of the muscleheads’ distraction, but before they could even reach their first ammo drop, they were swarmed by the mutant onslaught. Their score flickered on the screen - a mere 5,000 points.

 “This is a disaster,” West groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The next four groups didn’t fare much better, their score barely pushing the collective score to 50,000. 

West’s frustration simmered.

 “If they keep this up, they’ll be doing laps until next week!”

Finally, Sierra and Jacob stepped into the arena, and even Aria found herself paying attention, intrigued by Sierra's fighting skills as she commanded the team.

 “Ho! Interesting. She could get better,” Aria remarked, impressed.

Sierra and Jacob moved with a strategy, their coordinated efforts and quick thinking earning them a score of 75,000 points, while Sierra’s girl group added another 35,000, bringing their collective score total to 160,000. West felt a flicker of hope. 

“Finally! Some promise!”

But then came the last group - Harry was among them, and West’s heart sank. As Aria watched, Harry’s incompetence quickly became clear to her. The young man stumbled into the line of fire, knocked over ammo crates, and, to her disbelief, did nothing but run around dodging mutants. He didn’t fire a single shot and only succeeded in getting his teammates killed. The score, barely hitting 10,000, flashed ominously on the screen.

West’s frustration boiled over.

 “Are you kidding me? This is what you’re giving me? You all fell short of the 200,000 collective score by a long shot. I hope you enjoy your laps because I’m not going easy on you!”

“Ugh! This is all Wimp’s fault!” one of the students shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration. 

“If he hadn’t been so useless, we would’ve scored better!”

“Yeah! You should just run the laps on your own, Wimp!” another added. 

“You’re the reason we failed this mission! Do you even know what you’re doing?!”

“Honestly, we could’ve made it if it weren’t for you!” a girl from Sierra’s group chimed in, her hands on her hips as she glared at Harry. 

“You just stood there and got in the way. How hard is it to shoot a mutant?! Do you love them that much? Maybe you think they will become your girlfriend or something if you talk to them, huh!?”

The room buzzed with murmurs of agreement, all eyes darting toward Harry, who sat dejectedly at the back, shoulders slumped and face pale.

“Come on! You need to step up, dude!” one of the nerds whined.

 “We can’t keep covering for you! This is a team effort!”

“Enough!” West barked, cutting through the whining.

 “If you want to improve, then you need to shape him into a pilot. Give him some good old-fashioned encouragement, if you must! Until he either gets his shit together or quits the academy, he’s part of your team!”

“But sir, he’s a liability!” one student protested weakly.

West shot him a sharp glare, “Then it’s your job to make him less of one. Now get to it! And don’t even think about slacking off on your training. You’ll all be running laps until you learn the meaning of teamwork!”

Aria cleared her throat, deliberately loud enough to capture everyone's attention. 

“Ahem! Instructor West, are you not forgetting something? My turn? I was left alone with no team, remember? I was supposed to go last! I hope you're not thinking about robbing me of some fun?!”