by Aer-ki Jyr
A collective gasp was audible from the others, but Jason just looked down at the MMA Champion. “We can start whenever you like?”
Marshal growled angrily and jumped to his feet, bringing both hands up defensively and walking forward this time, punching experimentally with Jason dodging each blow by moving only a handful of inches each time, almost as if he knew exactly where the punches were going to land and how deep they would go.
After four dodges Jason reached his left arm forward and drew it aside, catching one of the punches on Marshal’s inside wrist and pushing his arm wide, opening up the man’s chest where he lightning snapped a stiffened right palm directly into his sternum, knocking him back a full meter and onto his ass. Marshal gasped on the ground, having had his breath unexpectedly knocked out of his lungs.
“He’s fast,” the Ranger whispered to the Brit.
The commando nodded his agreement as Marshal slowly got to his feet.
Jason simply stood in the center, watching the man and waiting patiently, a look of disinterest on his face.
Marshal feigned weakness, then dove forward and tried a leg sweep…which stopped painfully short as Jason counter kicked into the man’s leg while holding his ground.
“Next,” he yelled with disappointment evident in his voice.
The Ranger stepped forward and walked past Marshal as he limped off. The American nodded respectfully to Jason then ran forward and tried to tackle the slightly shorter man around the waist and knock him to the ground where his speed would be of little use.
Jason took one step backward then fell to the ground before contact was made, but too late for the Ranger to abort his tackle. The trailblazer’s legs came up as he landed on his back and caught the man’s fall as he grabbed him by the neck and pulled him over his head. Jason finished his short roll by kicking his feet over his head and propelling the ranger up and out of the ring in a large arc…too large for someone of Jason’s size and build to have managed.
“He’s bloody strong,” the commando commented under his breath as Jason lithely bounced up onto his feet.
“Looks like the recruitment drive was lacking,” Jason commented to Jenkins, but only to irritate the men. “Tell you what. Let’s try this 12 on 1,” he prodded, waving the others forward.
“What are you waiting for?” Jenkins bellowed. “Get in there! Knock him, push him, pull him out of the ring. Whatever it takes,” the trainer said, pointing them towards the ring.
“Alright then,” the commando said, game. He and the others moved forward, then began to circle the ring to try and get behind Jason. They exchanged glances and subtle gestures, attempting to organize their assault as the Ranger got to his feet and rejoined the group, as did Marshal.
Jason stayed in the middle, looking and listening. He figured they were going to try and attack his blind side, but it would do them no good. After all the time he’d spent sparring with his fellow adepts these men seemed pathetically slow, so when the first of them rushed him he had little trouble knocking the man aside into one of his teammates before spinning about and ramming his shoulder into the Brit as he tried to put him in a headlock from behind.
The SAS veteran was knocked backward, his hands grabbing uselessly at Jason’s body as the man juked back and forth, systematically and quickly cutting down all twelve of the recruits. At first they got back up off the mat and continued their attack, but after several attempts they began to realize that it was futile. They were no match for this man.
As they lay on the floor Jenkins walked up, stepping around the bodies as he walked towards Jason, who was still holding position at ring’s center. “I think their eyes are open now.”
“Who are you?” the Ranger asked.
“Someone whose ass the Black Knight kicks on a regular basis,” Jason said, walking over to the Ranger and extending his hand. He pulled the man up effortlessly, further displaying his superior strength. “My name is Jason-025. I’m an Archon. We’re the leaders of Star Force’s military, but we lead from the front, so don’t expect us to behave like your typical Generals and don’t expect to be trained like typical soldiers. We don’t want soldiers. Soldiers are of no use to us.”
“What we want are Knights…one man armies, so to speak, who we can deploy into situations that require hand to hand combat on solo or combined missions. We want you to dominate like the Black Knight did in the training challenges you witnessed, and in order to do that you have to open your minds. The universe is far more complex than you can imagine…and a great deal more impressive than society would have you believe.”
“My skills are still developing. As an Archon I’m a level 2 adept, which in our ranking structure means I’m only an experienced beginner. In the coming years I will become much more powerful, as will the others, through an insane amount of training from your point of view…but to us it’s just become our daily routine. A routine that you will have to mimic.”
“I’m going to leave all the details to the trainers…there’s too much for you to grasp right now and I’m not going to waste my training hours explaining it to you, but I’ll summarize. You are going to have to unlearn everything you know about the world, because you’ve been lied to your entire life. People do not grow old and die naturally. Myself and the other Archons do not grow old. The Black Knight does not grow old. Jenkins here I’m not too sure about, but if he’s keeping up with his workouts he won’t grow old either.”
“Everything you’ve been taught about training and how your bodies function is wrong, and we’re going to teach you the truth…but with that truth comes many secrets, secrets that will open the door of possibility for each of you, but you and only you can walk through that door. We can’t do it for you. You have to make the choice to commit yourself to a new life, a new purpose, and a new identity.”
“What we are asking of you is to become Knights. For Star Force, the Knights will be our ground troops, our security forces, our brawlers, our bad asses in any combat situation. We want you to become like him,” Jason said, pointing towards the distant wall screen. “We want you to become clones, each a one man army, because with the challenges Star Force faces in the future anything less will be cannon fodder on the battlefield, and we do not view any of our personnel as expendable.”
“We will not be fielding an army of millions of gun toting monkeys…we want warriors. War does not make a warrior…training does. Lots and lots of training. It’s how I’ve grown my skills and how the Black Knight has developed his…and it is the only way you will become Knights, so get used to the idea of living in these chambers,” Jason said, spreading his arms wide and gesturing to the facility in which they stood. “They will become your home, if you’re up to the challenge.”
“Sword,” he said, glancing at Jenkins who immediately walked off.
“As I said before, we want you to become clones of the Black Knight, and whereas you will be clones, the Archons will be Jedi, if you take the Star Wars metaphor. We command. We lead. And we are more powerful than you. That is the way it is now and will forever be…but I don’t want you to accept that. I want you to grow powerful enough to challenge us, for I will tell you a secret weakness of ours, and the reason the Black Knight remains beyond our reach for the moment.”
The men at this point were a mixture of dazed and energized, but they seemed to twitch at the mention of a weakness.
“The Archons are multi-taskers,” Jason said, reducing his voice down to a whisper. “We train to be good at everything. The Black Knight is a specialist. He trains for one purpose only, and that’s hand to hand combat. That’s why he can stand as our equal, and our better. That’s what I want the Knights to become…our equal in your discipline. We’re not going to tolerate that though, any more than we tolerate the Black Knight kicking our asses. We’re training every day to close the gap with him, and we never stop training.”
“But our training is spread out, and the number of hours spent on hand to hand is less than his…and w
ill be less than yours. We’re better than you, though, so we don’t need as much training time for equal results. We know how to train smarter, more specifically, and our experience in multiple areas helps us learn new ways of training, which we will eventually pass onto you after we’ve worked out the bugs and secured a sizeable advantage.”
“Don’t accept that,” Jason intoned. “Take up the challenge and become better than us. You have the advantage of hours…use it. Push us, if you can, for we have no use for weaklings who can’t take two steps without instructions,” he said antagonistically.
“Star Force is structured as a team. The Archons lead, but we do not do everything. We have an army of engineers who pull their weight on a daily basis, and I expect no less from the military. The training staff will teach you much, but I need you to go beyond that. You’re the first ones, the experiment to see if we can copy the Black Knight. Some say that he’s too good of an individual, a fluke that can’t be recreated.”
“Prove them wrong. Learn from the trainers. Learn from each other. And learn from us when we stop by, but make no mistake about the fact that you have to do this yourself. They can’t make you into Knights any more than I can. They will give you the opportunity…but you’re the one that has to come through in the end.”
Jenkins returned to the group silently, sword in hand, and waited on the fringes as Jason spoke.
“I’m guessing that most of you have heard the old cliché ‘there is no I in team.’ With Star Force that is grossly false. Each member of our team has to carry their own weight. If you have no individual skills then you are worthless to the team…therefore, to be the best teammate possible, you have to become the strongest individual you can. Do not make sacrifices. Do not concern yourself with the feelings or progression of others. Be selfish and focus entirely on yourself…but do so without compromising others. That is the key distinction. Do not take away from others anymore than you should take away from yourself. If you can learn that mindset, then you have a chance of developing into a true team member.”
Jason turned and extended a hand to Jenkins, who tossed him the stun sword. “One last lesson before I leave you in the trainers’ hands. Technology changes how battles are fought, and in the present day the gun has replaced martial arts, and in doing so promoted the idea that a soldier doesn’t need skills to be effective, just weapons and numbers. Star Force rejects this philosophy, and the Knight corps is the epitome of the antithesis.”
“The challenge videos that you watched showed combat using paintballs that we call stingers, which are laced with stun energy,” Jason said, glancing at the Brit. “So too was the Black Knight’s sword. And while we use them for training purposes that is not their primary function.”
With a subtle, but distinctive crackle/pop sound Jason activated the stun sword and unceremoniously wacked the SAS commando across the chest.
The man dropped to the floor unconscious.
“The way of the warrior is back in vogue,” Jason said, deactivating the sword and tossing it back to Jenkins, “so get training and prove your mettle, if you have any.”
With that last insult Jason walked off, leaving Jenkins with the group and half a smile on his face.
“You heard the Archon. Time to get to work.”
10
June 19, 2048
Megan and Emily watched a large data pad in Wilson’s hand outside the Final Challenge chamber as the second class met the Black Knight with a hail of grenades. The baseball- sized paintballs had a metallic core with a priming button, which when pressed activated the delay timer that would charge the liquid with stun energy then pop the solid cover with a tiny explosive charge, spraying the energy laden droplets in all directions.
None of the grenades actually hit Vermaire, but they covered him with swaths of paint and he fell to his knees immediately…whereupon the trainees rushed out of the doorway en mass, with many of them being hit by the wall turrets as they flooded into the room, half of them wielding personal shields. Those that didn’t have the protective covers made a beeline towards the Black Knight and tried to pummel him with their stun sticks while he was momentarily incapacitated.
“That was too easy,” Emily commented.
Megan glanced at Wilson. “Did you increase the stun charge in the grenades?”
“No, all their equipment is exactly identical to yours, as is the conditions of the test, but Vermaire requested a weaker set of armor to offset his increased speed and strength, so it takes less hits to slow him down now.”
“Cocky bastard,” Emily commented as the trainees dog piled on top of him, whacking away as their teammates spread out around the walls, taking down the turrets while suffering a significant amount of casualties. “Almost makes you want to go in there and help him.”
Just then the dog pile exploded, with several trainees being tossed through the air as the Black Knight stood up, using one of them as a captive shield across his shoulders. Once on his feet he tossed the unconscious trainee into three of the others then touched his wrists and began to punch them into unconsciousness quickly scattering the group, with Vermaire chasing down two of them before more distant gunners began offering cover fire for their stun stick-carrying teammates.
“Or not,” Megan said. “I had a feeling that was going to happen.”
“They look sloppy,” Emily commented as they finished off the turrets, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake.
“Just the opposite,” Wilson commented. “They’re not as…innovative as you were, so they’ve had to compensate by learning to be methodical and overly analytical. They’ve calculated the odds and are taking the best course of action available to them. If they hold true to past experience, they’ll begin going back for the wounded as soon as the turrets are down.”
True to his word, some of the trainees on the fringes began making runs backwards from the low wall at the finish and retrieving their unconscious teammates one by one as the rest of the heavily armed trainees distracted the Black Knight, with him continuing to add to the body count.
“Still looks sloppy to me,” Emily repeated as Vermaire was taken down to a knee again, with several trainees darting in to drag the unconscious away in the moment of opportunity.
“How has your training been progressing?” Wilson asked.
“We’ve both reached level 2,” Emily answered as they watched the data pad. “Morgan has been letting the other team leaders handle the military design and been pushing her training harder than everyone else. She just made level four last week. A few of the others have made 3.”
“How many levels are you going to have?”
“We haven’t decided yet…we just needed a ranking structure for the kiddos to work their way through,” she said, referring to the trainees. “Otherwise we’re comfortable just making it up as we go.”
“They have an awful lot of firepower,” Megan observed.
“That’s what I mean by them being methodical,” Wilson lightly argued. “They recovered 72 green cards from the maze.”
“Really?” Emily said, the first note of impressment in her voice.
“I was wondering where they got all those grenades,” Megan added.
“How long have they been at it?” Emily asked.
“That’s the downside,” Wilson noted. “They get the job done, but they’re slow. Clock’s at 74 hours.”
“They’ve been in there for three days?” Megan asked, aghast.
“Trouble taking the turrets apart?” Emily guessed.
“Actually they didn’t disassemble any of them. They took their time and deactivated the entire field.”
“Wait a minute,” Emily said, glaring at Wilson and his ‘same as them’ previous comment. “The turrets don’t permanently deactivate. The only way to take them offline is to take them apart.”
“Not true,” Wilson said, a small smirk on his face. “You just never figured out how. Each of the turrets has a high threshold for permanent deactivation…s
omething you never reached because you stopped firing when the turrets temporarily deactivated. If you’d hit them with another fifty or so shots immediately after deactivation they would have gone down permanently.”
“Wish we’d known about that,” Emily said, mildly annoyed even though their Final Challenge had been more than two years ago.
“Wouldn’t have mattered,” Megan commented as the trainees recovered the last of their wounded while keeping Vermaire at bay with a hail of stingers completely coating his armor in green paint. “We didn’t have enough ammunition to do that.”
“Point,” Emily conceded.
“There’s also a field deactivation mechanism,” Wilson added, almost offhandedly. “They didn’t find it either, but there’s one turret in each area with a slightly different firing rhythm. If you can take it out before any of the adjacent two rings, it will deactivate the entire field…but if you take it out in sequence like they did it does nothing. Ditto for taking it apart.”
“Any other little tricks we missed?” Emily asked.
“A few,” Wilson said as the last of the trainees made it over the wall and past the finish line, with the main doors in front of the head trainer and two adepts cracking open, revealing the 100 new graduates, many of which were still unconscious.
“They ran out of serum,” Megan noted as the unconscious ones were being carried forward.
Wilson pulled a packet out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I thought they might. They’ve developed a bad habit of taking hits to draw fire instead of dodging. It works for the challenges, so they kept doing it despite the point penalties. Something you’ll have to break them of,” he said as the first few began wandering out of the long connective hallway.
