“Don’t look, dummy!” She glanced past him instead, and seemed to relax. “She saw me catch her. She’s turned away.”
Rei made to look around again, and this time Viv let him. Whereas a minute ago Aria Laurent had been intent on Valera Dent and her entourage, it appeared that she’d now developed a sudden fascination with the sheer curve of the north wall as she shook her arms out, loosening her shoulders.
“She was looking at me earlier today, too,” Rei finally said. “Before etiquette class this morning. That’s why I said something was weird. She saw me for a second, but then was pretty obviously avoiding my eyes.”
Viv considered this for a moment, mulling the information over.
Then her features broke out in a vapid, toothy grin. “Maybe she thinks your scars are hot.”
“Oh shut up,” Rei snorted, giving her a shove that barely budged her. Viv was all titters, but before she could tease him any more her face stilled, then settled into a glower. Rei, feeling his heart sink, turned around only to find his nose inches away from the body of a griffin. He had to tilt his head back to meet Logan Grant’s eyes, and when he did he set his expression into as neutral a composition as his annoyance would allow.
“Can I help you?” he asked steadily.
Grant grunted, staring him down. “You’re not a big fan of personal space, are you, Ward?” At his back the small group of other cadets he’d apparently spent the last 24 hours cultivating stood by, either smirking at Rei or watching him carefully.
“That’s rich, coming from the guy who just walked up so close to my ass I could have confused you for part of my suit.” Rei stepped away, easing the wrenching on his neck to meet the boy’s eye. Grant really was stupidly tall, with what had to be almost a foot on his own stunted growth. “Do you want an autograph or something? Sorry, I left my pad in the locker.”
Grant’s lips twitched, and his gaze lifted first to Arada, then moved as he turned his head to peer over his shoulder.
“Between eyeing Laurent and shoving your girlfriend here around, you’re giving me a seriously creepy vibe, friend,” he said, finally looking back to Rei. “You’re already well into the process of painting our class-block with a bad name just by being here, so I thought I could come over and have a chat while we wait for things to kick off.”
“Oh. Cool. Then good chat.”
Rei turned around, intending to grab Viv by the arm and pull her further along the edge of the Dueling field. Before he could take a step, though, Grant’s question brought him up short.
“What’s up with the scars?” the boy’s voice carried, and suddenly a lot of heads were turning in their direction that had until-that-point been minding their own business. “You look like your mom had a one-and-done with a meat grinder.”
Rei took a breath. Viv was shaking with indignation in front of him, but he gave her a minute shake of his head.
This was a battle he needed to start handing on his own.
“How many of your posse’s names do you actually remember?” he responded, half-turning to look around at Grant again. When the boy’s mouth tightened, Rei smirked. “See? Feels weird getting asked awkward questions, doesn’t it?”
“What you think is awkward, others might consider valid.” Grant’s eyes were narrowed, apparently not used to being put on the defensive. “You’re small, you’re weak, and you’re stupid. You proved all that yesterday the moment you volunteered to go up against a C-Ranker you had no business sharing a field with. If we’re stuck with you for a year, Ward, then that means someone is always going to be wasting time and energy lugging your weight around. Some of us—” he spoke pointedly, making it very clearly who he was speaking of “—are gunning for heights you can’t even dream of. Having to worry about carrying your ass through the next months is a burden we can’t afford to shoulder. So if there’s a reason you’ve shown up here looking like a messed-up scarecrow, we’ve got a right to know, don’t you think?”
“Did I ask any of you to carry me?” Rei felt like spitting, the bitter taste in his mouth building up like he’d been forced to swallow something sour. “No. In fact, I haven’t spoken a word to most any one of you, cause you’re too busy staring, whispering, and breathing down my neck to have a conversation.”
“We’re having a conversation now, aren’t we?” Grant said with a smirk.
“No. We’re having an interrogation. A conversation would have involved you coming up to me and introducing yourself, instead of breathing down my neck like a dog in heat. Here, I’ll demonstrate, since apparently your mom’s fling was with some pretty-boy mannequin with shitty manners.” He faced the boy, sticking out a hand. “Rei Ward. I heard you’re a badass on the mats. Hope we can have a match sometime.”
His aim had been to throw Grant off his game, and in that he’d definitely succeeded, at least for a moment. The boy blinked as he stared at the offered hand, obviously taken completely aback. A brief flurry of confusion crossed his face, and Rei could almost see the wheels turning in Grant’s mind, trying to find the best way out of the situation he’d been presented with.
In the end, he chose the predictable path.
“You and me? In a match?” He sneered, crossing his arms to show he had no interest in shaking. “Get real, E. Laurent went easy on you yesterday because she’s soft. I’m not.” The curling of his lip was an ugly marring against his handsome features. “Tell you what: anytime you want to fight, just say the word. I’ll show you every reason you shouldn’t be here weighing us down that Laurent was too nice to.”
Rei let his arm drop. “Sounds good to me. I’ll take you up on that sometime. Maybe if I grind your face into the field hard enough you’ll wake up less of a dick.”
And with that he spun on his heels, taking Viv by the arm and dragging her away. Grant made a strangled sound behind them, obviously finally losing his cool, but Rei didn’t look back as a few of the cadets who’d been standing by watching stepped smartly aside to let them by.
“‘If I grind your face into the field hard enough’?” Viv repeated with a snigger when they reached the end of the gathered group, separating themselves a little from the others. “Nice line, drama queen.”
“Shut up,” Rei grumbled, feeling his cheeks go red at the thought. “He pissed me off. It slipped out.”
“Yeah, well… Guess now you really do need to put the pedal to the metal on that Growth rank of yours, huh? Pretty sure sexy gorilla-boy back there is gonna be gunning for your skin any chance he gets.” She looked over her shoulder mournfully. “It’s too bad. He’s seriously hot.”
“Hey. No repeats of Mikael Dorsey. You got it?”
Viv snorted. “Hell no. Dorsey had buck teeth and never heard of a comb. There’s no way I’d be able to keep my hands off Grant for a whole month.”
“Encouraging,” Rei muttered, rolling his eyes.
It was at that moment, fortunately, that a pulse of light caught everyone’s attention, turning their focus to the field whose eastern edge they’d scattered around. Valera Dent and the other instructors were striding towards them even as a white platform started to rise beneath their feet, much like the one that had brought the officers of the Commencement Ceremony up to the height of the viewing galleries. This one only lifted some 3 feet off the ground, however, and so by the time the captain reached the end she was just high enough above the students to address everyone at once.
“Good afternoon, cadets!” The woman spoke clearly, her voice echoing a little in the vastness of the subbasement as the six officers in combat suits jumped down lightly from the platform to stand before her, facing the first years. “Given everyone arrived on time, I’m going to get things started. As the only reminder I will offer you: I am Captain Valera Dent, your chief combat instructor. I will be overseeing the majority of your practical training and conditioning over the course of the next three years, as well as the application of parameter testing and coordination of Galens' traveli
ng SCT team.”
There was a murmur of interest at that, and the captain looked visibly amused.
“Thought that would get a few of you excited, yes. As I’m sure most of you are aware, the collegiate tournaments extend to the Interstellar level, just like the professional circuits. While Major Dyrk Reese will oversee all Intra-School combat, any individual or team who qualifies for Sectionals and above will be under my purview, so I hope you’re all willing to bleed to get there.”
Several people voiced their assertion, but the captain was already moving on.
“Obviously we are not here for practical training or SCT prep, however. As your week’s schedule dictates, today you will be partaking in your initial parameters testing. These officers—” she indicated the six in red-on-white standing at ease at her feet “—are your Type-instructors. They will be administering the assessment, which involves three distinct parts.” She held up a finger. “The first is designed to measure your speed and agility. The second—” a second finger came up “—will quantify your endurance and offensive ability. The third—” a final finger, and the hint of a smile on the woman’s synthetic lips “—your fortitude. Some of you—” she dropped her hands as grumbling could be heard from the first years “—are now complaining to your friends that there doesn’t seem much point to such testing. After all, your CAD-Rank generally measures those exact parameters, do they not?” She shook her head. “Incorrect, and you are best served separating yourself from that concept as soon as possible. CAD-Ranking and specifications are nothing more than measurement of what you could do. Not what you can. This assessment is designed not to gauge what you and your Device are theoretically capable of, but rather the limit of your true, current capabilities.” She lifted an arm, showing off the blue-red with white band of her A-Type Device, the famous “Kestrel”. “Today, you are establishing a baseline of how well you wield your own potential, as well as that of your CAD. This testing will be reapplied every quarter, and I encourage you to strive for improvements in every way, every time.”
As she dropped her hand again, the light of her neuro-optic blazed across Dent’s eyes. A moment later a massive “3” shimmered into being behind and above her, floating over the Dueling field. All around them, the other fields were labeled in the same fashion.
“Find your instructors, and follow their direction.” Dent’s NOED vanished with a blink. “Every cadet will have three opportunities to attempt each test. Do not let them go to waste.”
Before anyone realized they had been dismissed to their orders, the sub-instructors were yelling over their gathered numbers.
“Sabers! To me!”
“Lancers! Here on Field 3!
“Maulers—!”
Steadily the crowd dispersed, and Viv gave Rei a brief wave of farewell as the Duelists were called to Field 4. Soon Rei was left standing on his own, watching Valera Dent expectantly.
It didn’t take her long to catch his eye.
“Ward, you’re with the Brawlers for the time being. Field 1.”
Snapping the woman a quick salute of acknowledgement, Rei hurried off to the most southwest of the six smaller circles.
There were four others in his group, he saw as he reached the field. Evenly split with two girls and two boys, he didn’t know how to react when he realized the bald cadet who’d been shadowing Leron was among the Brawlers. No one saw him coming up from behind, however, so Rei had no opportunity to deduce anyone’s reaction before the sub-instructor caught sight of him lagging.
“You’re late, Ward,” the man growled. He was younger, with shoulders so broad he likely had to turn to make it through a typical door, and he was eyeing Rei over a trimmed brown beard. “I’m not a fan of repeating myself, least of all an introduction.”
“Sorry, sir,” Rei apologized the moment he’d fallen in beside a short girl with cropped hair the color of fresh brick. He considered making an excuse about his delayed assignment, but thought better of it.
The instructor nodded curtly, eyeing him—and his stature specifically—for a second more before returning his attention again to the group as a whole.
“As I was saying, my name is Chief Warrant Officer Michael Bretz. I will be your primary instructor for the foreseeable future. I’m a Brawler-Type, A8.” He smirked as several jaws fell open, but didn’t address their astonishment. “As the captain already said, you’ll be participating in a trio of different assessments today, with all of you having the right to three attempts at each.” He indicated the ring behind him with a wave. “The first is Speed & Agility, and will encompass all thirty yards of your standard Dueling field. You will receive an explanation once the projection is in place, but are there any question for the moment?”
“How will we be scored, sir?” the other girl, dark-skinned and orange-eyed, asked smartly from the other end of the line.
“Different for every test, but that will be explained as well. Any other questions?”
When everyone was silent for a few seconds, the warrant officer nodded his approval. “Good, then moving right along. I need a volunteer to go first.”
Silence answered him, all five of their group tensing at once. Rei knew well what was going through everyone’s heads. It had crossed his in the same moment. Assuming they were all going to be allowed to watch the test being administered, there was a distinct advantage to avoiding being the first participant. At the end of the day, after all, every cadet at Galens was in competition first and foremost with the other students if they wanted a shot at getting beyond the Intra-School SCT…
Everyone except Rei, who could only hope whatever abysmal score he would ring up today would one day be nothing but a bad memory…
“I will, sir,” he spoke up after almost 10 seconds of silence, raising a hand.
Bretz looked briefly impressed, as though he hadn’t expected anyone to volunteer, much less Rei.
“I like not having to pick someone out of the crowd, Ward. Points for balls.” The sub-instructor’s NOED came to life, and a moment later a circle of red light—identical to the starting ring of a true match—was glowing against the black plating beside him, a few feet inside the silver ring of the field. He pointed at it. “Stand here. The rest of you—” he waved a hand towards the others, and five other rings formed outside the perimeter, 10 feet apart “—take a seat. You are allowed to watch, but not to discuss what you see or share information until all of you have taken part in all three attempts. Is that understood?”
Four nods, and four rears planted firmly on the plating in all but one of the circles a few moments later.
Bretz, meanwhile, was still giving orders to his neuro-optic. When he was finished, a disk of light about 2 yards wide appeared under his feet, lifting him a short ways off the ground.
“The Speed & Agility test,” he started simply, and as he spoke what had to be the assessment field began to materialize all around them. “After a five second countdown, you will have fifteen seconds to hit as many disks as possible. You can use any means at your disposal, but must touch the disk with some striking part of your body, be it hands, feet, head, knees, whatever. Any questions?”
Rei would have shaken his head, but he was too busy staring in wonder.
The projection, which had lifted him off the gym floor about 3 feet as it manifested, looked to be a variation of the “Neutral Zone” field that was actually one of the more popular SCT fighting spaces among fans. Whereas that simulation was nothing but an empty white void with a flat floor and cylindrical walls, this space had more detail applied to it. For starters, the ground was anything but level. Hexagonal pillars each 2 feet in diameter made up the flooring, sunken and elevated alike, with most on the same plane as Rei, but some extending as high as 10 feet above his head in intricate waves and a staircase of altitudes.
More distracting, however, were the “discs” Bretz had made clear were the singular goal of the test.
About half a foot in
diameter and a fraction of an inch thick, some hundred black circles floated above the field at various heights. It would have been bad enough that a few hung less than a few yards from the subbasement ceiling high above them,, but the fact that they were all moving made the sight all the more intimidating. In an endless frequency of patterns the black shapes dipped and darted, circling and flipping and rising in as many directions and at as many speeds as there were actual discs. It only took a glance for Rei to realize that those closest to him were the most stable, low to the ground and hardly dancing about at all in comparison, but the further and higher he looked from the starting point the more the circles became a blur of movement, like a swarm of dark insects buzzing about in an utter, eerie silence.
“Cadet. Call.”
The warrant officer’s platform had lifted him some 20 feet almost straight up in the air, well out of the way, and the formality of his order told Rei he’d lost any opportunity he might have had to voice any potential questions. With a pang of apprehension he brought his arms up to just below his face, feeling most natural in assuming the loose combat stance that had been drilled into him by a 1000 repetitions of fighting simulations over the last 10 weeks.
For a little while, he’d forgotten about this part…
Taking a breath and focusing, Rei opened his mouth just as the number “5” flashed into being a foot in front of his face.
“Call.”
4.
Shido whirled into being, encasing his hands in its still-alien black plating, the carbon steel claws protruding from his right knuckles glinting as they caught the light.
3.
There were gasps from behind him, and someone swore.
2.
Blocking out all distraction, Rei brought up his NOED, letting the display register the situation.
1.
In an instant his frame highlighted the pattern of the moving disks in curving red lines, and he locked onto his first target.
0.
Iron Prince: A Progression Sci-Fi Epic (Warformed: Stormweaver Book 1) Page 26
