Endless Online: Oblivion's Promise

by M. H. Johnson

  10

  "What do you think, Val?" Sten asked, gazing at the collection of renovated buildings with no small amount of pride, ancient stone repaired with whatever mortar had been available to them. Though the outside looked more ramshackle than not, the insides were comfortable enough with sleek chrome tables, chairs, and beds aplenty, more than enough for an extra guest or three. He was impressed by their soundless fridge, though the physics of how one managed temperature differentials without expending considerable energy was beyond him. Yet he couldn't deny that the scrambled eggs Halvar prepared them were unexpectedly fluffy and tasty, perfectly paired with freshly squeezed juice tasting of peaches and pineapple.

  Val smiled. "My compliments to the landlord and the cook," he said, earning himself a pair of grins.

  "Good," Sten said. "I'm going to be gone for a couple of days, feeling out possible buyers for our Elementium. Halvar will keep you all fed, and I expect you to take his lessons seriously."

  Val blinked. Lessons? Like a child? It must have shown on his face.

  Sten frowned. "Yes, Val, lessons. Technically we're acting as your wards, and even a semblance of us mentoring you will do a lot to avoid any headaches, should it ever become an issue later. Besides," Sten grinned, " I think you will like what he has to teach."

  Halvar nodded. "Calisthenics and safety drills. When you've got that down? We'll see how you fair with a real laser rifle." He gazed pointedly at the exotic blade Val had been gifted with, along with his armor, from the dwarves. "As to that priceless sword, so like Elise's own, we'll lie and say we found a matched pair during one of our explorations. In any event, we'll make sure you know how to use that blade, and well. You'll be sparring with Elise and I both."

  Val couldn't help smiling. It sounded like boot camp, but better.

  "Sounds good to me. Push me as hard as you like."

  And Halvar did.

  Small arms at rank 3 successfully quantized!

  Congratulations! You have successfully learned the skill: Laser Carbine at rank 3!

  You have gained the feat: Adept Use of laser carbines! You can use this weapon without penalty sniping from a multiple positions (you're a natural at this, Val. Almost like you've sniped before!) without penalty in conjunction with a shield as cover, or at only half standard penalty when leading with the shield in the charge!

  Your stamina has increased by 1! Through diligent exercise and training by Halvar's side without complaint, your body is naturally responding to the challenge.

  Your Health and Survival have increased by 1! Through diligent exercise and training by Halvar's side without complaint, your body is naturally responding to the challenge.

  It was a grueling handful of days; friendly, bemused Halvar turning into a drill sergeant in the blink of an automated eye, putting Val through his paces with basic calisthenics, laser carbine safety, how to properly dismantle and reassemble the weapon, changing battery packs or coils as needed, and of course, how to shoot accurately both at times of calm and under the stress of simulated combat.

  Val found himself drained, for all that Halvar seemed more than slightly impressed by his rapid progress, shaking his head after Val sniped six out of six stone pebbles Halvar had placed, some distance away.

  "Alright, kid, I admit it. For a rank recruit? You know what you're doing."

  Val grinned. They may have little comprehension of explosives or automatic fire, but laser carbines were a dream to fire with no kickback whatsoever, and no need to alter trajectory for distance or breeze, like he would when sniping at range with even the best high caliber rifles. On the other hand, for all that Halvar had demonstrated how well lasers can cut through flesh and bone as well as wood and untreated metal using various pieces of scrap and the remains of their meals, the same culture that had relied on laser carbines of various sorts for untold centuries had developed at least a few reflective polymers that were all but immune. To say nothing of dwarven shields and armor which seemed utterly impervious to both lower power civilian lasers and Halvar's modified military issue carbine as well.

  And that, of course, was why swords and shields were still popular, countless years after the advent of lasers. A reflective disk was far easier to construct that customized body armor, and few weapons were quite so effective at getting around both shields and many other types of specialized, laser resistant armor than high-quality swords of various metals and polymers, to say nothing of the magically enhanced blades that Val knew firsthand could, with skill and more than a few Psions used, cut through even dwarven alloys.

  "Actually, you're putting me through my paces just fine, sarge. Reminding me that I need to boost my endurance a bit, and with character points being so precious, I'm glad that strength and stamina are the easiest stats to build up naturally."

  Halvar blinked a moment before bursting into laughter. "Just when you start making sense, kid, you come up with the strangest turns of phrase." His gaze turned thoughtful. "You're quick, Val. Damn quick. I've known more graceful marksmen, but even sniping at range, you're definitely in the top third, and as for instantaneous reaction time, you're already a match for some of the best mercs I know, and you're not even enhanced." Halvar gave an approving nod. "For all that you're only slightly more literate than my old pet vilseg, you have a natural feel for tactics. The only thing that seemed to throw you off was charging with laser and shield, but even that you picked up quickly enough."

  Val nodded at the compliment as Halvar frowned thoughtfully.

  "You weren't kidding when you said you've done this before, were you?"

  Val slowly shook his head, his gaze locking with Halvar's own. "I was a water treatment specialist. And I was good at my job. Damn good."

  Halvar smirked. "Filtered a lot of water tanks, did you?"

  Val's gaze did not waver. "Not once."

  Halvar rubbed his brow, closing his human eye. "So it was cover. You really were exactly what you proved yourself to be in those damn caverns, facing off against horrors best kept in the dark. If anything I'm damn grateful, for if you had not been exactly who you are, none of us would be here right now."

  He gave Val a brotherly clap on the shoulder. Val swallowed and bowed his head.

  "Val?"

  "Yes?"

  "Thanks for coming through for us. That makes you gold in our book, rough edges aside."

  Val smirked, feeling strangely better. "No problem. Now quit pussyfooting around and let's do some real training."

  Halvar blinked and frowned.

  "Sword and shield, Halvar. You know, what happens when we quit playing with our laser toys after the lines have closed, and things get messy."

  Halvar grinned. "Damn straight, boy. Lasers are almost worthless in a crush of shields. If you haven't been able to cut down your opponents before they rush, that means they're well armored and elite, and at the very least they have reflective shields, which you have to counter by striking around them, just like they'll try to counter you in turn. You can take care of standard infantry just fine with your carbine, you've shown me that. Now let's see how you fair against properly kitted troops."

  And that was when the true training began, as far as Val was concerned. Of course he wouldn't dream of using live steel, save in very controlled situations with partners he had trained with, so his dwarven blade was absolutely out of the question. Fortunately, the shape and weight of Val's blade was not at all uncommon here. It was a poor fencing blade, since its balance didn't not allow for rapid parry and rebuttal in a single beat, as a light dueling saber could. Rather, it was designed to be used in concert with a shield to devastating effect as the blade lashed out from all angles, its shape and balance making it well suited for reaching around one's opponent with wrapping blows that could cleave into the back of an enemy's skull or neck, should you slam shield to shield with your foe. It was a migration era weapon whose heyday had been over a thousand years ago on Earth, yet had found new life and purpose in this strange world where lasers
and shields both had vital roles in combat. Even if there were better designs still, no other sword that Val had seen was enchanted to hack into even metal with deadly effectiveness as was the dwarven blade he now called his own.

  Halvar handed Val a practice version of what he liked to think of as his Viking blade. Val gave it a couple of test swings, its length and balance perfectly mirroring his own weapon.

  Halvar grinned. "First lesson. I know just how effective that dwarven blade of yours is, Val. If a rapiersman in the city wishes to challenge you to a duel for the rights to claim that blade, would you take it?"

  Val smirked. "No chance in hell. He'd make a pincushion of me before I closed. This style of blade is not balanced for parrying unless you have no other choice. If the rapiersman will accept me with a shield, however, it would be a far more fair fight, but even so, he'd probably dart away constantly, hoping I tire before he does."

  Halvar dipped his head. "Exactly. That's a hacking blade you're carrying, Val. It's well balanced for what it does, and a skilled swordsman equipped with a shield can butcher his foes with it quite well. But it's not meant for the dance of a dueling ring, only for the savagery of war. Remember that, Val, lest you'd be easy prey for a duelist talented at goading young bucks."

  Val nodded. Discipline and control were the watchwords of any skilled warrior.

  Halvar flourished his own blade, a mirror image of Val's own, and both were now fully kitted in armor, Val with his dwarven shield, Halvar with one of shimmering alloy, much like his armor. The blades were blunt but they would strike full force, miming serious combat as best they could.

  "Of course, Val, there are ways to counter the rapiersman or other duelists, including the use of prosthetic arms or mesh lined gloves and reinforced jackets to grab or trap the rapier, at which point you twist your hips and cleave that bastard's arm straight off." His cold grin made Val wonder if Halvar had done that once or twice, perhaps against a rapiersman who had challenged one of Halvar's young recruits. "But that won't protect you against laser fire, and we're here to train you as a warrior, not a duelist, though if that is your interest..."

  Val shook his head. "I'd rather learn what you have to teach."

  "Good! Ready yourself, boy, let me see what you're capable of!"

  And as quick as that, Val and Halvar were sparring in earnest, shields parrying lightning hard strikes as they weaved about each other, each looking for an advantage before Halvar roared and charged, his massive enhanced frame sending Val flying off his feet.

  The larger man chuckled, helping Val upright once more. Val swallowed, slightly shaken, realizing, perhaps, that he should have seen that coming. "Sure you want to continue, Val?"

  Val grinned. "Of course!"

  And this time when Halvar closed, Val spotted the tell the instant before the larger man charged, Val's quickness and previous training in throws and grapples coming to the fore, propelling Halvar over his head with a variation of a classic monkey flip, though his thighs had burned afterwards. He had always been fast to react, and his quickness was now exceptional, rolling to his feet with his blade touching a half-prone Halvar's neck, earning a chuckle from the larger man.

  Grappling level 3 successfully quantized! Few can make use of the dreams of a previous life. Whether real or just flashes of insight, your skill is apparent, even to your armsmaster.

  Halvar gave an approving nod. "Well done, Val. I didn't see that coming. Now that we both know to expect the unexpected, let's get serious!" At which point Val sensed old lessons of tempo, pacing, and timing coming to the fore, embracing not just improved skill with his blade, but recalling how best to read his opponent, doing his utmost to strike in the pause between beats, where so many could be caught flatfooted.

  For all his diligence, Val lost far more often than he won, Halvar's incredible strength proving a considerable asset, but to his tremendous satisfaction, he knew that Halvar was taking him seriously, fighting in full earnest.

  "What?" Val looked at Gregor gazing at him so intently as the three of them ate their dinner a week later, Sten and Elise having dropped by, looking as animated as Val had ever seen, stopping only long enough to check up on them and grab a modest amount of the Elementium Val had in storage before heading out again.

  Gregor shrugged. "I never thought you'd stick with it this long."

  Val frowned. "You thought I'd run away?"

  The smaller man shook his head. "No. I mean Halvar's lessons. Even Sten has his fill after a few bouts, but you guys have been training nonstop for days."

  Val, recently washed in as primitive a stone bath as any he had used, though glad it connected to a stream and so was constantly full and clean, gave a rueful shrug, rubbing his arm as he did so. "As Halvar will tell you in a heartbeat, I have a lot to learn."

  Halvar nodded. "He does. And he learns fast. Soon he'll be almost worthy of the gear we found in the ruins."

  Gregor frowned. "But you push him so hard. I've heard the crack of your blade ringing his skull or sinking into his flesh so many times..."

  "It's blunt, and we both know how fast he heals after a single night's sleep. He's never plagued by injury or pulled muscles, so no reason not to push him all out, every day."

  Val grimaced. It was true. Painful, leaving no room for rest or mercy, but true enough. And in truth, he loved his training. It reminded him of far more innocent days dreaming of knights and glory in HEMA, hoping one day to compete in earnest, life taking unexpected turns before such ever came to pass. Besides, the harder he trained, the less time he had to think of the beautiful dwarven girl waiting for him to come back to her even now, or the father who no doubt thought Val long dead, or the far more human girl suffering unimaginable horror and abuse, along with dozens of other innocents, trapped in a massive spaceship ruled by a power-hungry Overlord, miles above the planet's surface.

  He could do nothing about any of that, save train his heart out. And that he did to the best of his ability, every day.

  Congratulations! Your Health and Survival have increased by 4! Through diligent exercise and training by Halvar's side without complaint, your body is naturally responding to the challenge.

  Congratulations! Your stamina has increased by 9! Through diligent exercise and training by Halvar's side without complaint, your body is naturally responding to the challenge.

  Congratulations! Your strength has increased by 1! Through diligent exercise and training by Halvar's side without complaint, your body is naturally responding to the challenge. Your physiological strength is reaching its natural limits, and will increase at a decelerated rate without the use of anabolic steroids, magical enhancements, or character points spent redefining your very essence.

  You are presently enjoying the benefits of Intense Conditioning. In order to maintain exercise induced increases in strength, stamina, and health, you must exercise a minimum of one hour at serious intensity every four days, or one hour of specialized intensity (sparring, for example) every three days. Exercising at greater frequency or intensity will continue to benefit stamina and health.

  Sword and Shield Rank 4 achieved! - You are already far beyond the common soldier. Even Halvar senses your potential. With intense dedication, combined with your natural grace, quickness, and insight, you have the potential to one day become a master.

  Val grinned, pleased with his sudden sense of growth, letting the sudden flashes of information fade into the background. He glanced instead at Halvar's two handed sword. There were other ways he wanted to grow, perhaps needed to grow after seeing the terrible tools at his enemies' disposal, and maybe Halvar could set him on the path to mastery in this area as well.

  "Nice sword," Val said, gazing meaningfully at the blade Halvar was currently cleaning. Val had seen Halvar embrace a number of katas that looked very much like Italian greatsword techniques, a devastating weapon that was more a polearm than a typical sword, and save for practicing some of the old master's forms, no one at his academy had dared spar wi
th it. The risk of injury, sparring full force with that much leverage from a five foot long blade was just too high, even if attitudes had changed among a select few by the time he had returned from his military service.

  Yet thanks to his seven foot height, Halvar could carry within his specialized back sheath a weapon that far shorter human soldiers could only carry as a polearm, centuries ago.

  "Yes, it is," Halvar allowed. "And don't think you'll ever be sparring or training with it. It's a very specialized killing tool. You can't hold a shield, you can't fight in close formation, and unless you choose the military path and get your body fully enhanced, you'll never have the size or strength to wield it as it should be used."

  Val couldn't help grinning at that. "Actually there are a number of Italian and Spanish masters who would disagree with you. Men who were shorter than me who could use a well-balanced greatsword to deadly effect, even if it was too big for them to carry strapped to their back and they had to carry it like a polearm."

  Halvar's cyborg eye whirred. "Explain."

  So Val shared a little bit of the European history he and his friends had been interested in, the era of longswords, poleaxes, and greatswords before gunpowder changed the course of world history forever.

  Halvar nodded, impressed, before paling at Val's cavalier explanation of explosives. "Stop, Val. We have no dry explosives like gunpowder here. Chemical reactions don't catalyze the same way they do where you're from, or dreamed you were from. Besides the fact that volatile liquids are as like to blow you up as your enemies, any strong exothermic catalyzation source is forbidden, death by pain vat being the normal end for any who would dare experiment. Not that either of us ever would."