by Aer-ki Jyr
Between Paul and Jason they’d mutually decided that they wanted one of these divisions to be made up of Black Knight copies…or as close as they could get to them. They didn’t know how to go about that yet, and the drugs that Vermaire had taken were still an undecided issue, but however they went about it they knew firsthand the effectiveness of their nemesis and had no problem with copycatting a good thing…after they advanced their own skills to the point where they could kick his ass.
Which was why Paul had selected sword training as his secondary training emphasis. They’d all mutually agreed to pick three training areas to specialize in…a primary and two secondaries for at least the next year, if not considerably longer, with the idea being to focus more on specialization than they had done in their basic training, which had been quite varied, with more than 50 subcategories. Now, with the addition of the ambrosia, they knew they had to really grind out their training and changing types regularly would diminish the adaption effect.
All of the adepts had chosen running as one of their three choices, given that it was a staple of physical training, with them spreading out their other choices amongst swimming, gymnastics, various martial arts areas, agility/reflex, and an experimental ‘targeting’ subcategory that Taryn and a few others were creating, with the idea being to see if ambrosia + training could increase marksmanship in a superhuman way, inspired by Legolas, Dead Pool, Zero, and others.
All the rest of their previous training subcategories had put been put on hold, to be revisited someday in the future once they had the basics of ambrosia training worked out and a structure established for the Adept level and beyond. Their training and future activities were in their own hands now and they were having to make all this up as they went.
A challenge in and of itself, but it was one that Paul was throwing himself into fully. With unanimous and almost unnecessary agreement, the need for a naval division of the military was a no-brainer and of the utmost importance, but designing one was posing several problems.
First of which was the lack of adequate defense. Paul was not going to put pilots or crews into ships that were likely to be destroyed in an orbital chess match. Their fate needed to be tied to their skills, and so far that seemed unfeasible with the technology and strategies they’d been working with.
Simulations were fine for experimentation, but constructing actual ships with real crews wasn’t something that Paul was going to take chances with, so in the first few weeks he and some of the others had co-oped and designed a new type of drone that could be attached to stations or ships and flown as a remote weapons platform in singles or clusters, giving Davis something he could begin producing now and get into field testing ASAP.
Paul knew they couldn’t start arming their infrastructure yet, but it was something to get the ball rolling none the less. Now was the harder part…designing both a warship and the military structure in which it would fit.
The primary schematic laying out before Paul on the touch screen was an experiment resulting from several weeks of limited inspiration. Knowing that artificial gravity was essential to space flight, Paul started off designing an AG section, ultimately opting to go with a disc unit that, ironically, ended up resembling the saucer section of the Enterprise or other Star Trek ships.
With that basic piece in place he’d been playing around with add-ons and feeding the designs into the simulators, supremely unhappy with all versions. The basic problem he was having was not in constructing a suitable ship, but that he didn’t know for sure what he needed it to do.
That was why it was necessary to develop a structure, or call it a philosophy, for space combat around which the naval division would be molded, and they were having to create it all from scratch…or, mostly, it was Paul that was having to do it, given that he seemed to have an edge over all the others in this area, though the others were more than willing to chip in where they could.
So far they hadn’t come up with anything. They’d floated around several ideas, went back through historical records of water naval conflict, even land conflicts, to try and glimpse some insight, but nothing really worked. Paul didn’t know what they were missing, but he couldn’t feel the mojo on this. There was something else, literally on the tip of his mind, but he just couldn’t make the connection…like he’d seen it before but couldn’t remember.
It was really beginning to annoy him, as was their lack of progress. They couldn’t move forward without getting this first piece of the puzzle in place and Paul hated the feeling of going nowhere fast, brainstorming for hours upon hours and having nothing to show for it.
Looking down at the schematics and auxiliary files Paul finally just said ‘to hell with it’ and swiped it all into a side folder, clearing the virtual tabletop and leaning against the edge, taking a long breath and staring down at the blank white workstation.
“Think, Paul, think. What are you missing?”
7
July 2, 2045
Jason whipped his rod-like training sword around his head at eye level, impacting two slightly askew targets with the single stroke, then reversing the sword’s momentum and rolling the blade over his head and slamming it down on a target just off the floor. Each time he hit one of the suspended, baseball-sized spheres a faint chime would sound, signaling a successful hit even as the targets swung aside on their swivel arms, allowing Jason to strike through his targets.
He stepped to his left and back a meter, swiped at one far over his head, then ran forward three steps and slashed twice in an up and down ‘V,’ taking three more down. Each of the target’s swivel arms had a resistance setting that could be customized, requiring a specified amount of force to be inflicted in order to collapse them and score a hit…meaning Jason had to be precise in his sword’s movements in order to score successful, repetitive hits.
The sparring room he was in was a clone of the one they’d used in their basic training, but this one was located well away from the trainees in one of many areas reserved for the adepts’ ambrosia-enhanced training. Jason wondered exactly how many training facilities Davis had hidden away inside Atlantis, because they had access to a great deal of locations that he didn’t even know existed a few months ago.
The sparring complex held this and many other chambers for practice, but lately the adepts had been requesting upgrades as they began to explore their capabilities and discovered that the existing training apparatuses were insufficient to the task. Thankfully Davis had anticipated this problem and left many chambers empty so that new facilities could be constructed as needed, but even when designing the new equipment and courses themselves, it was taking the engineers and construction crews far too long for the fabrication.
Sparring in particular was tricky, since it was a man-on-man skill and creating solo training routines required a considerable amount of creativity. This ‘ball chopping’ exercise had been one of their training staples, forcing them to learn to maneuver the sword about quickly and unpredictably, as there was no preferred path to take in downing the targets. The circular room was filled with them, with the idea being to hit as many as possible in the specified time limit, with the downed targets resetting after a few seconds, but slow enough that someone couldn’t camp out in the same location and essentially take batting practice.
Which meant that Jason had to stay on the move, bouncing back and forth across the training field creating a crescendo of chimes that informed him of his rate of success by the intervals. When he was really humming through the course the slightly lingering chimes would overlap, creating a continuous sound. Jason’s goal was to extend that audible chain as long as possible, and to recreate it whenever it flagged.
Normally the time duration was 30 seconds to 2 minutes, but after a few months of ambrosia enhanced training Wilson had been forced to have the system reprogrammed to accept a longer duration, with Jason already working up to 15 minute sessions. As a result he had noticed a considerable strengthening of his arms, adding a bit of mus
cle in the process but making him feel lighter and more at ease than ever before.
Jason had been spending four hours a day on this and other training drills now that his strength, speed, and skill had equaled or surpassed that of the martial arts instructors that’d been splitting their time between the adepts and the trainees. Now that he was able to best them in sparring matches, his time was best spent pushing his limits where he could until a superior opponent arrived, if ever.
What little actual sparring he did now was against his teammates, which was useful from a skill standpoint, but in order to increase their raw abilities repetition was required…the type that had to come from individual drills against machines that didn’t alter their dynamics as a fatigued sparring partner would.
Which was why Jason and several others who’d focused on sword fighting had been designing an automated sparring machine that they could actually exchange blows with. They’d sent in the basic design parameters over a month ago, but it wasn’t even close to completion, which aggravated Jason. He understood it would take time to develop prototype training equipment, but ever since he’d began ambrosia-enhanced around the clock training, time seemed to have expanded, with him living a month’s worth of experience inside a single day, making the speedy engineering crews seem painfully slow from his point of view.
He didn’t fully realize this and often felt like he was wasting precious hours without the new equipment. Making do with what he had was the next best thing, and he was pleased with his progress on this training drill, having not only extended his time span before his arms would fatigue to the point of sloppiness, but increasing the resistance up to level 10, a good 4 levels above his trainee best.
With the course maximum being 12, they’d already requested an upgrade, knowing they’d need higher settings within a few months at the rate they were progressing. Jason was up to 6 decis of ambrosia per day, and seriously wondering how he had ever survived without the stuff. It wasn’t a replacement for sugar, his consumption of that had been continuously increasing as well, but it was definitely better. He was surprised by how such a small amount affected him, but Jason couldn’t argue with the results.
His body was much hardier with the ambrosia in his system, which would linger for days in the bloodstream until the body’s tissues fully absorbed what it needed, meaning that the perceived ‘effect’ wouldn’t wear off in a predictable amount of time like a sugar rush. It would persist until a need couldn’t be satisfied, resulting in a thirsty feeling, felt not in his mouth but in the rest of his body, especially his arm muscles, given how much sword training he was doing.
Jason wanted to monitor his depletion, so he was taking 5 decis in the morning with breakfast to make sure his system was super-flooded with the ambrosia for reinforcement during the day’s training, much like how a marathoner would carry various gels and concentrated liquids on their person for refueling, but since the ambrosia could be ‘carried’ in the bloodstream he didn’t have to think about it after his initial dose.
After that point he trained hard and long, with part of his purpose being to deplete his reserves as soon as possible. Most days it never occurred, but on occasion he’d start to feel the ‘thirst’ during the last hour of training, which he’d take care of with his 6th deci at supper so his body could use it to recharge during the night. When his training intensified and his body began to deplete itself early on a regular basis was when Jason knew it was time to add another deci, which was something that he worked hard to achieve, because it meant he was advancing up to another ability level in order to require more of the ambrosia.
This current training drill certainly depleted the strength in his arms, and to a some extent his torso, but as far as an overall body drain it didn’t rank very high, so his ambrosia usage was actually lagging behind those adepts focusing on running, with Morgan, Kevin, and Jace all having reached 10 decis, or a full dose, by now. That miffed him a bit, but the sword training was important to him, not only because of the ass kicking the Black Knight had given him and the others, but with the creation of the stun implements martial arts was going to play a more prominent role in warfare and Jason wanted to be as much of a badass in that department as possible.
The one good thing about the sword training was that he was getting to use an actual sword now…no more short stun sticks. Whereas the equipment was limited for the trainees, now that they’d advanced to adepts they had access to whatever they wanted, and Jason had fell in love with the stun sword the moment he picked one up. Unlike the Black Knight’s super long version, the one he held in his hand now seemed to be the perfect length, a combination of reach and leverage that he could employ single handed or two handed with ease, with him splitting his training time evenly between wielding one blade and two.
Jason started to notice a little fatigue creeping into his arms just before the 15 minute end tone sounded, startling him as he wouldn’t have guessed that much time had expired. He glanced up at the hit counter and the new personal record of 1054, then flexed his arms experimentally as if the score was no big deal. He didn’t feel any soreness creeping in, which meant he was probably good for another round.
He walked outside the training room into the large gymnasium-like open area that housed several sparring rings and open air training zones and linked all the sparring chambers together. Several trainees were working with each other on the mats with hand to hand drills, also waiting on new equipment to be installed for that discipline. Four more were sparring with swords and stun sticks, working on developing hard to hold, awkward blocks by strengthening their muscles through hundreds of repetitions of the same move…very boring, but it was required to trigger the body’s adaptation.
Variation might burn calories and be ‘entertaining,’ but it killed adaptation when the muscles were required to adapt in conflicting ways, which was why many of the running-focused adepts were eschewing swimming. Those focusing on swimming still ran for cross training purposes, but the runners had discovered during their basic training that swimming workouts left them feeling out of sorts when running until their bodies readjusted…so in order to push their running skills farther and faster, they needed to keep their muscle ‘memory’ focused on the task at hand.
Jason was a decent swimmer, but he hadn’t chosen to develop those skills at the moment, choosing instead running and agility to focus on, and combined with his sparring the threesome of activities seemed to complement each other. He kept his runs short and hard, which helped with the quickness motif that they all shared, whereas others were running high mileage and eating up the laps hour after hour.
“Finished?” Erin asked from behind him, working on a resistance machine that had a bungee-tethered sword with six variable positions.
“I think I may get one more in today,” he said, trading spots with her. “My arms aren’t feeling it yet.”
“I’ll be one more and done,” she promised, heading inside.
“No rush,” he assured her, placing his feet on the appropriate markings on the mat and picking up the sword. He swung it forward on his right side, feeling the resistance mount as the tethers stretched until a tone sounded. He released pressure and swung backwards effortlessly, tapping a reset counter then swinging forward again smoothly and pushing into the bungees rather than using momentum to reach the required distance.
He got through four minutes of the form strengthening drills until he noticed someone coming in through the main doors hefting a giant duffel over his right shoulder.
Jason stopped immediately, almost dropping his sword. The man was clearly not any of the adepts, and given the fact that these areas were reserved for them and them alone made his presence immediately noticeable. All the others in the main yard stopped what they were doing and watched as the 7 foot giant walked toward them.
Jason knew it was the Black Knight from the data file they’d been given, but they’d never seen him outside his armor and hadn’t bumped into him at all since the F
inal Challenge several months ago. All of a sudden a creepy feeling began to make its way up his spine.
The feeling intensified when Vermaire’s eyes landed on him and the man headed towards him.
Jason held his ground but dropped the sword, stepping a few feet away from the device just in case he needed to run or dodge. All of their previous meetings had been for the purpose of kicking their asses, and he couldn’t shake the sensation that it was about to happen again.
When the armorless Black Knight got within ten meters of Jason he stopped and pointed his long arm directly at him, then thrust his finger towards the sparring rings.
Jason studied him for a moment then wordless walked over to where he had pointed and grabbed one of the sparring swords from the nearby rack. It was a duplicate of the actual stun swords, but without the stunning mechanism, balanced with the same weight distribution for training purposes.
The giant slung his duffel off his shoulder and dropped it to the floor with a loud metallic ‘thunk’ then walked over and grabbed his own sword from the rack, making it look pathetically short in his hands compared to the long sword he normally used. Without a word he set himself back on his left foot and pointed the tip of the blade towards Jason…and waited.
Swinging his sword about lazily, Jason started to circle him, wondering what this was about but glad he finally had a chance to face him outside of his armor and without having to defend against a one hit disabling stroke. He was also keen to see how much his skills had advanced…before he could hardly last ten seconds against the man.
