by Aer-ki Jyr
Paul had already completed his run first thing in the morning, then had 3 hours’ worth of individual challenge work, followed by an hour of ‘Dino class’ in which the trainees were continually updated on discoveries made within the Antarctic pyramid, which mostly consisted of additional parts of the database being translated. There was so much information already available to them that they had a backlog of material to work through, but neither they nor their instructors were rushing through any of it.
Each day they would have a new lesson covering a tiny piece of the greater mystery that was the V’kit’no’sat and their empire. Today’s lesson had been an introduction to the species known as Hjar’at…otherwise known as the Stegosaurus, including images from the distant past that were considerably different from the conceptualizations made by paleontologists and movie directors. The bone-like spines on their backs and tails were in fact clear as glass and, like a Human’s fingernails, would regrow when broken off.
They also were not fat and cumbersome as pop culture portrayed them. Their bulk was muscular and lean, lending them far more agility than their size inspired. Paul was shocked when he saw an image of a small one roll up in a ball and do a somersault forward, resting only on its back spines, which he realized must have been made of incredibly strong material.
But most remarkable of all was the images of the Hjar’at at night. Somehow they could induce their spines to glow a neon blue, from which they appeared to also emanate some form of energy arcs, leaping from one spine to another. So far the researchers in the pyramid hadn’t been able to recover any information about that particular attribute, and the instructors had encouraged the trainees to form their own speculations.
After their class had finished the trainees had a brief lunch, then more academic work. The 2s had a navigation class, which delved heavily into the mathematics of inertial force, gravity, and thrust. The class was a prerequisite for entering the naval warfare challenges, of which the 2s were scheduled to begin approximately 5 months later, if their current score progression held.
A short team workout on the ‘ring out’ course followed, with one serious attempt at upping their best score on the playground of elevated platforms connected by suspension bridges, zip lines, and flat topped pillars…all of which had no guard rails of any kind and were constructed several meters above thick red mats that spread out beneath the course like the water beneath an erratically constructed dock.
They managed to chip off three seconds, which increased their team score a negligible amount, then they split up for more individual training, with Paul and Jason opting for some creative sparring practice.
They’d found that if one wasn’t careful, their movements would become repetitive and predictable…something that they truly could not afford, and while there were specially assigned martial arts instructors that they could practice with, Paul and Jason had developed a knack for figuring out the capabilities of each new piece of equipment given to them…some of which the designers hadn’t foreseen.
The stun sword that the Black Knight used was not part of their current equipment inventory, and it was debated whether it ever would be, so the trainees had to do their best to create sparring challenges with the short stun sticks to simulate the longer sword…which never truly worked.
At the moment Jason was using two stun sticks against Paul’s one, trying to force each other into unfamiliar defensive and offensive patterns, figuring that the more comfortable they were with the weapons the better chance they had of improvising against the Black Knight’s blade, thus the point of the current sparring exercise was to make the opponent as uncomfortable as possible.
The trick of the matchup was in overcoming the leverage force applied by the single blade vs the double strike capacity of the pair, and vice versa. When engaging the Black Knight the trainees were automatically at a leverage disadvantage, given his superior strength, so Jason was being forced to deflect Paul’s attacks, whereas Paul had the option of brute force stopping Jason’s strikes at any moment, though if he did so he opened himself up to the opposite blade.
It was an awkward arrangement at first, but with successive days of practice they’d both gotten fairly good at their combat ‘dance’ and continued to press each other as often as they could, marking each other with light bruises from their successful blows. Paul always kept to the single stick, and Jason the double when sparring with each other, but they each practiced with different combinations, including the use of handheld shields, when sparring with other trainees, most of whom were 2s given the differences in team scheduling.
After the first week Paul had to admit that there was a lot of room for improvement in what had originally looked to be very simple, straightforward movements…but he also realized with a measure of disgust just how much time it would take to become proficient with the weapons. Skill had to be earned, he knew, with time and training…and despite the huge gains he and the others had made since the beginning of their training, it was painfully obvious how far they still had to go.
He hated to admit it, but in some ways he was still just a newb.
That thought more than anything drove him to work harder and longer at sparring practice, a mindset that Jason shared. The Black Knight had taken their egos and smashed them flat dozens of times, showing them in painful clarity just how skilled they weren’t and never relenting in his vicious determination to see them fail. That personal aspect to the ambushes ate at the trainees even more, given their inability to settle the score.
That said, they had no choice in the matter. Their training and challenges continued on, with most of them not interfered with by the Black Knight. His appearances were truly random, as far as the trainees could deduce, or rather failed to deduce any pattern to his attacks. They had to go into each team challenge with the knowledge that he might show up, and then have the guilt of their anxiety to deal with when he didn’t. It seemed he was in their heads even when he wasn’t on the course.
The trainers, however, absolutely loved the situation, though they denied it and the Black Knight’s very existence when questioned about it. Their most common response was ‘What Black Knight?’ followed by an uncongenial smile.
Paul and the others had to admit, in private, that when training to face the overbearing dominance of the V’kit’no’sat at some point in the hopefully distant future, the Black Knight was giving them excellent practice in the art of getting one’s ass kicked. Someday Paul hoped he could meet the mystery man outside his armor, at which point he’d shake hands, mount a step stool, and punch him in the face.
One other lesson the trainees were learning was that of hate…both the advantages and disadvantages of the emotion. Up until now Paul had never truly understood the word, but given the four serious injuries inflicted upon him, and the dozens of others received by his teammates, Paul had an intricate understanding of the concept and the powerful motivation it provided…which was also why, he figured, that a lot of the Dino class lessons centered on the bloody history and oppression of the V’kit’no’sat. Not only to inform them of the dangers they faced, but to allow them to feel a connection to what otherwise would appear to be nothing more than a farfetched storyline.
Several recordings of atrocities against both Humans and other races contained within the pyramid’s databanks had made that connection all the more real, distant in the past though it was.
All together, the magnitude of the task placed before them was overwhelming, but the Black Knight had given them a tangible, superior opponent to face and adapt to, unlike the V’kit’no’sat who were distant and unknown. That fueled the trainees’ competitive fires and laced their reactive instincts and would, in time, come to be seen as the most beneficial part of their training…though only in retrospect. At the moment, each of the 100 trailblazers hated the bastard with a passion that drove them to find a way to defeat, or at least survive, one of his attacks.
When Jason and Paul finished sparring, they split up an
d finished their last hour of training with swimming and Jujitsu, respectively, then hit the showers with the others at the end of the day, swapping stories, playing games, and sleeping for those needing a few extra hours of shuteye. For the 2s, the following day would see them advance into a new series of challenges, of which the 7s, 3s, and 9s had already progressed.
Tomorrow their mission would be to escort a non team member through a new course to a finish location, protecting him/her in the process, as well as using the individual’s technical skills to make their way to target. Paul was leery about that aspect of the challenge, but knew it was something they would have to get used to. Star Force employed a wide range of experts, none of which he would expect to have any training remotely similar to his own, but potentially with skills they would need to exploit in the field.
That said, it was still a step closer to graduation and Paul allowed himself to savor the moment of transition, wondering what Davis had in store for them after they’d completed their training.
Then the thought of the Black Knight showing up tomorrow and beating the sentimentality out of him popped into mind, spoiling the moment.
Paul laid down on his bed, about to go to sleep for the night, as his mind began running through various permutations of known tactics and scenarios. After half an hour of fruitless thought, he forced himself to abandon the exercise and get some sleep, focusing his mind on the resolute fact that while he might not figure out the solution tonight, eventually one of them would, then they’d take that bastard down…hard.
9
Paul met up with the other 2s in the equipment/shower room the next day, dressing in the dull white body suits that had become standard training gear for most of the challenges. The material was both flexible and durable, allowing for a bit of protection against bumps, scrapes, and rolls while maintaining full agility. The coloration made for a disadvantage on most of the courses, but so far camouflage hadn’t been a topic of discussion, but Paul figured that would probably change in coming days.
With equally white, and equally flexible boots that attached to the pant legs rather than overlapping, the 2s finished their basic prep and walked through Atlantis to the nearest lift terminal, where they boarded three ‘elevators’ that carried them laterally through the city over to the park-like training zones. They met up in a mission specific equipment room, one of many in the training areas of the city, and appropriated their safety glasses and weapons…along with their ward.
She was a 5’ 5’’ extremely cute, extremely blonde computer technician…but the first thing that went through Paul’s head was how thin and out of shape she was. Jason was helping her get used to carrying a shield and instructing her how to cover up behind it, but Paul was already running variable doomsday scenarios through his head. He didn’t like them having to babysit a non combatant, especially when her obvious lack of skill could cause them to fail the challenge.
“So,” Megan whispered to him as she picked out one of the stun sticks from the selection on the wall, along with its holster/belt, “what do you think of your new girlfriend?”
Paul tossed her an annoyed glare. “I’m wondering why they sent someone so frail.”
“She’s not supposed to fight.”
“But can she run? We need to stay mobile, otherwise we’ll be sitting ducks when we cross open ground.”
“All part of the fun,” Megan kidded, picking up a bulky pre-loaded paintball rifle and hitting the power button, which then began charging up the ammo with stun energy.
Paul walked over beside Jason and their ‘package’ and grabbed a shield of his own. Normally they didn’t carry them in the parks, but given that they had to protect Neira they needed something other than their own bodies to block incoming fire with, even if firing the rifles one handed was a bit of a chore.
Dan and Brian chose slightly different loadouts, appropriating small paintball pistols in place of the stun sticks, which also came with a hip holster, along with the newly issued sniper rifles that the trainers had long tormented them with, added to the trainee inventory only two weeks ago. Given the size of the weapons they required a two-handed grip, meaning they couldn’t use shields, but they could keep the enemy distracted and confused, which would prove even more valuable than simply blocking paint.
The 2s had learned months ago that a good defense was multifaceted, and since their mobility was going to be limited, they had to make up for that deficit in other ways.
Jason had been assigned as Handler, meaning he was going to be on Neira’s hip the entire way, so he appropriated a pistol for his left side, a stun stick for the right, and picked up two of the flat, vertical shields. He was going to let the combat fall to his teammates unless it came to hand to hand, and needed the extra blocking capability to create a ‘turtle shell’ barrier that he was now practicing with the tech, having her drop to her knees with her shield in front and ducking her head down behind it as he came up from behind and essentially wrapped her inside his arms, with both shields closing her off from harm while using his body to cover her back.
“Looks cozy,” Megan teased as she walked up beside Paul, hoisting her shield up onto her back via retractable straps. She and Paul were going to be the skirmishers today and couldn’t bother carrying the shield in a conventional manner, needing to keep their arms free and mobile. “I’m surprised you didn’t volunteer.”
“Was I really that bad?” he asked, half serious.
“Only with the blondes,” she said, taking a half step closer and sarcastically kissing him on the cheek. “That was just plain insulting.”
Paul looked over at her eyes, darkened behind the safety glasses but still full of mischief. Her dark brown hair was pulled back tight against her head and wound up in a small braided knot at the back. “I’ll remember to mention that to Sara sometime.”
Jason finished his practice lessons with their partner for the challenge and turned around to find the others geared up and waiting for them. “Let’s do this,” he said confidently.
“Are you ready for this?” Paul asked Neira.
She nodded perkily. “Just get me to the consoles and I’ll do the rest.”
Paul nodded once, then he and Megan walked to the head of the group and led them out one of six entrances to the equipment room…five of which led to nearby courses. The 2s walked down a long octagonal corridor that ringed the ‘terrace’ park until they came to their designated entry point, with a trainer waiting at the door.
“Stand by,” he said into a small wristbound comlink, communicating with both the control room and the trainers in the field. He waited until they all gathered around the entrance doors, which were sealed, then addressed the group of trainees.
“Challenge D-3A…your orders are to escort the tech to the finish area on the far end of the course, whereupon she will hack into the finish podium to end the mission. The podium will not function as normal until she activates it, thus her survival is required for completion. As usual there are time, kill, and survival bonuses. Any questions?”
There were none, so the trainer stepped aside revealing the start podium. Paul walked up to it and pressed down the large button, starting the clock above the thick doors that split and parted laterally, revealing an urban/garden landscape beyond. Megan ran with him up to the end of the small entrance tunnel, then disappeared around the corners, finding the closest available cover to begin probing out from.
Ivan and Jack came next, hanging back in the tunnel until the skirmishers had moved up a safe distance, then moved out and took up guard positions. Randy, Kip, and Emily came out next and began fanning out, creating a perimeter on the low terrace that led to several higher levels, which formed a small ‘hill’ over which the rest of the course lay.
When Megan tried to climb the short staircase up to the second terrace she drew the first fire from a hidden sniper, with the blue stinger missing cleanly. As a skirmisher she knew to always keep moving, and had been zigzagging up the steps, off
which she rebounded back down to the lower level and found cover against the terrace’s concrete retaining wall.
Emily spotted the sniper as he fired at Megan and quickly communicated the approximate location via hand signals to the others. The trainer was hiding behind a line of soil-filled pots each the size of a hot tub up on the third terrace, giving him a view of the stairs while shielding him from most everything else.
Paul, on the other side of the elliptical course, moved further to the left on the first terrace, following the curve of the wall that gradually expanded the width of the park out from the narrow end where they had entered. He approached a symmetrical set of stairs and darted forward, then jutted left just before he got up the second step and slipped back in behind the retaining wall.
No shots were fired. Either no one was covering this side or he hadn’t provided them a good enough target. Paul set himself then darted across the stairway opening and slipped over to the other side, hunkering down next to a potted coconut tree that rose up far above his head.
Still no fire.
Paul glanced back and caught Randy’s attention, signaling for him to provide cover. He nodded and took aim with his rifle up on the second terrace as Paul jumped out of cover and sprinted up the stairs.
A blue ball splattered at his feet when he hit the top step, followed by three quick shots from Randy that caused the trainer to duck back into cover behind a hedgerow trimmed to geometric perfection. Paul ducked behind a small, dry fountain directly in the path of the stairs and lay flat on the ground, hoping there wasn’t anyone on the second terrace nearby, else he’d be a painfully easy target to hit.
He looked around the best he could manage, the fountain rim was only 2 foot tall, but at least he had his shield slung over his back to offer some protection. Off to the right, the direction he was facing, there was a small courtyard with solid benches situated in a square. As quick as he could manage, he jumped to his feet and ran to the downside bench and took up position behind it in a low crouch.
