WICK (The Spark Form Chronicles Book 1)

by Matt Doyle

  Blindness could never be enough,

  To stop her hunting as she chooses.

  They call her The Nameless Sky,

  And those that gaze upon her will see no more.

  “Wow. You know, I never get tired of that? What do you reckon Sam, any surprises in choice of Spark Form?”

  “Well, Slade’s always been a Static Form – Adaptive Deck player, so it ain’t no surprise that he’s stuck with the beast that got him here, y’know? Fahrn’s surprised me a lil’ though. She’s been straight up Adaptive since day one, but The Nameless Sky is one o’ them cards that seems strong on paper but has a lot of limitations. You really need to rely on being able to pull off one or two specific things to get the most out of it, so I’m guessin’ that she has something in particular in mind for this battle.”

  “Would her choice of using a smaller deck for this match play into that do you think?”

  “Yeah man, I mean using a thirty card set for her main deck would probably mean that she has a couple of cards she wants to pull out quickly rather than relying on the luck of the draw. Even then though, she’s still got to get the right cards in the right order. In that respect, Slade could have a real advantage with his sixty card set. He’ll have a few more options than her at least.”

  “What I find interesting is that Slade has gone for a Boost style Data Fragment this year. Normally, he goes for Blast moves.”

  “Well, ya know, he’s really just sticking with his qualifier deck style there too. You’re right an’ all, but I gotta think he’s just going with what brought him to the dance. Maybe that’s part of some grand change in strategy for him this year or something, I dunno.”

  “Fahrn meanwhile has a Burst combo. That would tie in with what you said about her having something specific in mind too, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s a good sign that she has … she probably has a few cards in there that she wants to shift down there rather than having them up top.”

  The lights above the Competitor Zones lower, leaving Slade and Fahrn illuminated only by the light from the screens in front of them. The crowd, knowing what this signifies, start to buzz excitedly.

  “OK, well it looks like the decks have been shuffled and we’re ready to get this thing started Sam, so let’s get back to the Battle Zone.”

  An orchestral sweep echoes across the speaker as the electronic announcer chimes in with “It is time to … Light. It. Up. Competitors … begin!”

  Song: Battle Music 33

  Band: Emblem Productions

  Genre: Instrumental Power Metal

  The guitars kick in and The Torn charges forward.

  “The Torn starts us off with a diving lunge and The Nameless Sky braces herself against the impact, but you can see that she felt that one. The Torn now keeps the pressure on with a hard bite, burying his fangs in the great serpent’s body, and this a far more aggressive start than we’re used to from Slade Fury.”

  “You’re right Dirk, there’s some real intent here from Slade. The Torn releases its grip and goes for a big ol’ swipe but The Nameless Sky whips past an’ The Torn follows up with … no! No, he doesn’t!”

  “The Torn was going for a tail whip there but Sky caught him mid swing and sunk those sharp fangs right into the beasts’ tail.”

  “And now she follows up with another vicious snap o’ her jaws, then slams her weight forward, The Torn barely rollin’ outta the way in time. Ya can see he’s bleeding though, that last bite ripped right on through those scales o’ his.”

  “The Nameless Sky still on the attack, again attempts to slam herself down across The Torn’s back, and again The Torn gets out of the way at the last moment, but he can’t stop the follow-up crack of Sky’s tail.”

  “The damage is piling up an’ Fahrn’s building her Burst cards. Ya gotta believe that Slade is hoping he can - do something like that! Another attempted slam by The Nameless Sky, an’ this time The Torn dove at her, rolling her over an’ pinning her down, an’ now he’s unloading with some vicious bites, savaging the serpent right in the middle of arena.”

  “The blood’s flowing now Sam!”

  “Fahrn’s feeling it man, ya look at the health bars an’ The Nameless Sky is slowly dropping! An’ on top o’ that, Slade’s maxed his Boost bar already …”

  “Oh shit, will you look at that! The Nameless Sky just clamped her teeth down on The Torn’s incoming muzzle.”

  “Ya hear that roar, man? That’s pain right there.”

  “And now she’s snapping away, little by little recovering her health and building her Burst bar.”

  “Did ya see though? Fahrn’s not dropping cards to the Burst bar every time. She’s picking an’ choosing.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that. This her fifth time through her deck now too I think, while Slade’s just starting - another vicious bite by Sky – starting his second. The Torn’s hanging in there though, he’s enduring every other blow.”

  “That ain’t gonna keep him in it for long though man, he’s gotta get back on the offensive.”

  “Absolutely. Right now, Fahrn can just take her time. She’s playing cards to keep Slade off balance, stop counters and dodges, cut cards from his hand. Her deck’s small, but it’s immaculately built.”

  “Would ya expect anything less?”

  “You know what Sam, I wouldn’t. The Nameless Sky with an attempted body slam and The Torn slips past again but is too little too late …”

  “DATA FRAGMENT ACTIVATE: THE BURNING” says the electronic announcer.

  “Uh-oh, look at the smile on Slade’s face now! The Torn just powered up and now he’s literally on fire!”

  “An’ here he comes with a flaming charge Dirk! The Nameless Sky counters by slamming herself down on him, but she’s taken some damage herself from …”

  Again, the electronic announcer cuts in. “DATA FRAGMENT ACTIVATE: FULL ASSAULT”

  “That means that Slade can’t block or counter the combo, he’s gotta dodge. If he can get into an attack position though, that’s gonna nullify it.”

  “He’s still got another four moves in Boost mode too, so Fahrn’s gonna be taking some damage here … oh man, I think this one’s done Dirk. Fahrn’s got him.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “See that first move? That’s a full body wrap, that’s a Nameless Sky exclusive card.”

  “Wow. The Nameless Sky just wrapped herself around The Torn, hoisting him into air, and now she’s rearing up ready to strike.”

  “Which means he can’t dodge or block. Until he can play a card to counter her, he’s helpless.”

  “And the Full Assault means he can’t counter until the end of the combo. I think you’re right Sam, this one’s done. Vicious bite by Sky. That said, she only has two more cards loaded and she’s still taking damage, Slade could still get back into this. Another vicious bite and we’re down to one card in the combo.”

  “Nah man, I think I know what this is. Ya check this out ... Yeah, there ya go. The first one she dropped down there, the one she knew she’d use last in the combo, it’s the quick snaps.”

  “That’s The Nameless Sky’s version of savaging. It’s gonna keep going until it’s countered or dodged, right?”

  “Yup. An’ since it’s still bite based, the body wrap stays in play too so this is just a slow torture now.”

  “Listen to those boos Sam. The crowd know it. They know it’s over and all they can do is watch. Even Slade’s Boost mode has worn off now, so Fahrn isn’t going to be taking any more damage either.”

  “An’ there it is. Ya heard it man, the last roar of the beast.”

  “Look at the ground. It’s been a while since the Battle Zone’s seen this much blood. That was a brutal finish, absolutely brutal.”

  The lights come back up and the Sky Control Systems power down as the battle music fades out. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” comes the announcer, “Your winner … Fahrn Starchaser!”

  The Nameless Sky curls itself i
nto a ball and hisses viciously at her fallen foe while Fahrn raises her hand in victory, looking out to the angry crowd as they let her know exactly what they think of her. The cameras focus on her standing proud for a moment, then cut to Dirk and Sam at the announce table, just as the Connection Team start to dash over to the Competitor Area to unhook the combatants and power down the Data Wicks.

  “What a way to start the tournament.”

  “An’ just think, we still got three more matches to come for y’all today. Hell, if this is how the show’s startin’, y’know ya don’t wanna miss the rest of the action.”

  “We’ll be back later on with the second of our first round match-ups. Until then, he’s Sam North, I’m Dirk Wylder and you’ve been watching the forty third annual Spark Form World Championships.”

  “Later peeps.”

  The screen fades to black.

  FAHRN - 14:25

  "You peeling my eyelid back and shining that thing in my eye hurts more than my head does," I grumble. Being as professional as they are, the medical staff simply nod at my self assessment and continue to fuss about, trying not to draw out my rapid fire post match physical any longer than is necessary.

  "Any emotional Surges?" asks the physician with the compact digital clipboard.

  "I'm an Offlander, remember?" I say with a smirk. "Soulless bastards, all of us. What the fuck use would emotions be for my kind?"

  He rolls his eyes and says, "Mild increase in primary emotions," to no one in particular, then taps away at the screen a few times before finishing, "but nothing to worry about."

  "Readings are stabilising," mumbles one of the two behind me tinkering with my implant.

  "Good," nods the woman checking my blood pressure. "How are you feeling generally now? Is the stiffness fading?"

  "Mostly. Are you guys done yet? I'm hungry."

  "Hmm," says the man with the clipboard. He peers out over his glasses, scanning across his colleagues as he asks, "anything to be concerned about?" Each of the other four shake their heads or outright say no, so he returns his gaze to the clipboard for a moment. After a couple more taps on the screen, he gives me a professional smile and says, "Then yes, we are indeed done Miss Starchaser. I do suggest however that you take some time to rest before departing this evening. Perhaps have food delivered to your changing room rather than traipsing all the way to the canteen."

  "I'm not an invalid, doc."

  "No," he replies, "indeed you are not. Nor are any of the other competitors, but I shall be recommending the same to them. You are all my responsibility, or rather your health is, at least while you are all here under Emblem's care. Now, rest up and we shall see you tomorrow after your next match."

  And with that, the physicians leave in a swish of white coats and clinical chatter.

  I sigh and haul myself to my feet then, with a loud roar, throw my chair against the wall.

  The implants hit different people in different ways. We all get the mental and physical fatigue from the quickened mental calculations and movements, but that can be combated with decent conditioning. People like myself and pro athletes that make the jump tend to recover quicker from those than most. It's the competitors that either don't take it seriously or don't expect it to be so bad that suffer the most out there.

  The big kick is the 'emotional Surge' as the doc put it. Tonight, I'm angry. I wasn't, but now I am. If you're feeling something in particular, the Surge usually just exaggerates it. If you're all over the place then you'll probably dash through everything you're feeling at high speed and get it all out quickly. Me though, I was pretty together tonight, and that's bad because the more balanced you are the more the implants fuck you up. Instead of acting as a catharsis, it just pulls up random shit that you either had buried away somewhere or that wasn't there to begin with.

  Which means that until my old pre-during-and-post-mission calm down routines work their magic, I'm not letting myself leave this room because I don't want to do or say something stupid to someone that actually matters to me. That's a short list of people. The likelihood of bumping into one of them is fairly low and they'd all understand why I'm behaving like this, but knowing that I'm doing it would only annoy me more and make the anger grow. If I'm not already on the way down, the frustration could easily make a U-turn into something else like being overly teary. Aside from not being me, that’s not a state I’d want the press or the fans to see me in as it’d go too far against the character.

  Breathe Fahrn. Bring it down, don't push it up. Focus and concentrate on the mission: get your shit together and get back to your changing room. Breathe. Just breathe.

  I groan and rub my eyes then pick up the chair and put it back where it should be. I don't feel bad for throwing it, and that's got nothing to do with the Surge. It's a cheap, lightweight, plastic piece of crap that they supplied because they knew that someone might do what I've just done. No, I've put it back because the room wouldn't look right without me leaving it the way I found it. Don't get me wrong, it wouldn't bug me all day or anything, it'd just look off and for a brief moment that would annoy me and potentially force the anger back up. That's my story anyway and I'm sticking to it.

  The room-tidy-cum-preventative-work done, I pick up my crutch and head to the door. I can feel my knee twinging again, which means that the physical effects of the match are beginning to wear off. Not enough to stop the slight blurring in my vision every couple of steps though.

  That's another of the things I don't like. The pain is familiar, it's damn near part of my daily routine by this point, but the eyesight is an annoyance. It's like having multiple mini migraines spread out over … however long it's gonna last this time.

  With a frustrated grunt, I finally give in and lean back against the nearest wall, silently willing my body to hurry up sort itself out. Being as impatient as I am right now, the rest only lasts a few seconds before I start psyching myself up to push forward again. Thankfully, my near attempt is cut off by a familiar voice from the other end of the hall.

  "Starchaser! Well played my friend, well played!"

  "Thank you Slade," I say without turning my head. There's really no need, I can already hear his heavy footfalls tromping towards me. "And well played yourself. I was beginning to think that you weren't throwing the match for a moment there."

  He laughs. "Well, I can't very well let the fans think I'm a lost cause now, can I? Although, I fear the esteemed Mr Ford is certain that my skills are well below par," he says with a grin.

  "That's because the idea of not winning is completely foreign to the prick." I sigh. "Sorry, I didn't mean the prick part. He's just a little old school is all. Things we're a lot different when he started. Less focus on character and more focus on competition."

  "Quite alright," he replies, giving me a playful slap on the shoulder. I make a mental note that he made a point of slapping the shoulder above my good knee, despite it being further away and more awkward to reach. "Perhaps you would do well to rest a while longer before heading back to Maria, hmm?"

  "Yeah," I concede, "you're probably right."

  "Of course I am," he bellows, "Surely you've realised by now that I am nearly always right?"

  "You are that," I reply with a small laugh. "I feel like Hell. It doesn't normally take it out of me like this."

  "Now don't lie to me Starchaser, it's been getting harder for you every year, hasn't it? I can tell. And honestly, I don't think I've ever seen you look so pale. Did the physicians not say anything?"

  "They said I was fine."

  "Yes, well that's because you're a commodity. Have you given any thought to what I said last year about maybe taking some time off? I'm sure that Emblem could at least see their way to letting you skip the first half of the post tournament tour."

  "Time off?" I shake my head. "And do what, Slade? It's not like we've got much put away. And what little we had got blitzed when one of Fenrir's engines went last month. Even if I win this year I won't make enough to get us t
hrough more than two, maybe three months at a push. And before you say it, it's not like I can do anything else for a living. The shipping jobs didn't pay half of what Emblem does, and I can't go back to Merc work." I grip my crutch tight. "The Wandering Halo saw to that."

  "Now Fahrn, you do know that if things ever get rough, both you and Maria are welcome to stay with Charla and myself, don't you?" he replies in an unusually calm tone. "Failing that, we're not above loaning you anything that you need."

  "I know that," I say, pushing myself off the wall. "But I'm above taking it. Thank you, but I don't need any hand-outs. Look, I better get back to my changing room. Maria will be worrying, and the doc said I need to get some food and drink."

  "Of course," he says with a smile. "Just remember that if you ever change your mind, you can call at any time."

  "Sure."

  "Well then," he bellows, finding his voice again just as he starts to walk away, "Until tomorrow Starchaser."

  Even as he disappears around the corner, his laugh still echoes around like he's still standing next to me. That, at least, makes me smile.

  MEERA THORNE - 14:30

  I'm scared. Really scared.

  I'm glad I got to watch Fahrn play, but it hammered home how close I am now. And there's so much that worries me. Watching her out on the field, she's so aggressive. I mean, I knew that, I've seen videos, but to see it live is different. It's made everything different.

  Hong Chan showed me her interview earlier. I thought it was really good, but thinking back on it now makes me realise how angry she is with everyone. Everyone who isn't an Offlander anyway.

  "I understand", I whisper to myself. I was born out there too. And what happened on The Wandering Halo, it wasn't Fahrn's fault, I'm sure of that. I just didn't know how hard it was to be an Offlander until then. I don't remember much before then any more, but I know it was easier.

  "Meera?"

  I turn my head to see the door to the viewing room open and Hong Chan peer in.