“Really?” Rei had to admit that had peeked his interest. “Why’s that?”
“There’s a lot of focus on squad-formats at Sectionals,” Aria started to explain, repeating Dent’s own words from weeks ago, but paused after that. Rei thought he could guess where her hesitation was coming from, and his suspicions were confirmed as she continued. “I, uh… I heard from some third years that first years who make a team spend the entire winter break basically doing back-to-back squad-training. To make up for lack of experience.”
Rei hid a smirk, surmising that said “third years” probably happened to sport the rank of Colonel.
“Oooh that makes sense,” Kay said as they reached the Arena entrance and started down, Rei swallowing his pride and taking hold of the railing that bisected the stairs as his legs protested the descent. “But that means we just have to make a squad, then, right? Not necessarily squad-leader?”
“Oh… Yeah, I guess.” Aria flushed red again, and Rei knew she was realizing she’d been speaking as a probable shoo-in for getting her own team.
“Sweet!” Viv exclaimed as they reached the base of the steps, skipping up to walk on Rei’s other side and leaning around him to look at Aria. “So that means I just have to punch enough faces in during the Intra-Schools to make you want to take me on, right?”
Aria looked delighted. “Would you want to be on my team? Oh that would be so much—!”
Rei coughed pointedly as they started north along the west wall of the Arena, bringing her up short again.
“Oh… I mean… There’s no guarantee I’m going to get a squad, of course.” She managed to compose her face, but couldn’t hide her excitement as she kept on. “But if I do, I would totally want you!”
“Nice!” Viv punched the air in success.
“You should pick your teammates based on merit.” Leron Joy had finally decided it was time to sour the mood, and Rei looked back at him to find the Saber scowling between Viv and Aria. “Not on the fact that you’re friends.”
“Viv is probably gonna hit C0 before her first match,” Rei told him coolly, turning forward again. “That would put her neck-and-neck with Zain Kadness and Laquita Martin among the Duelists, both of whom were part of the summer training group. Still think Aria shouldn’t take her?”
“I think Laurent should pick after the SCTs,” Joy replied just as evenly from behind. “And maybe it’s not Arada I’m worried about her weighing herself down with, Ward.”
Rei had opened his mouth to answer, but Aria stole the opportunity by halting and whirling. As one the rest of the group came to a stop together, and Joy—though he stood a good 3 or 4 inches taller—suddenly found himself leaning away from her in alarm as she took a step towards him.
“How about doing me a favor and not worrying about me weighing myself down with anyone?” Aria told the boy with venomous cheer. “I appreciate your concern, Joy, but you’ve apparently mistaken me for someone who needs help making her own decisions.” She met his gaze evenly. “Do I look like someone who needs help making her own decision, Joy? Do I?”
The Saber’s mouth opened and closed several times, struggling to find words to answer with for a while before Sense tried to come to his rescue.
“He didn’t mean anything by it, Laurent,” the Brawler said with a placating—if strained—smile, stepping close to the pair. “Leron just doesn’t always know when to shut his trap, that’s all.”
Joy glared at his friend, though clearly more to have an excuse not to look at Aria than out of any real annoyance.
That was the moment, however, that a notification pinged Rei’s NOED. He glanced at the subject line out of habit, not thinking anything of it, and did a double take as Viv stiffened beside him, her own eyes on her lit frame.
As his mouth went dry, Rei managed to get the news out. “Ease up, you guys. We just got our pairings for next week.”
Instantly the tension of the party shifted, and as one Aria, Sense, and Joy all pulled up their NOEDs. Kay was a step ahead of everyone, already scrolling through a heavy list of text as it scripted across her vision, and as Rei selected the notice he was greeted by a similar wall of names, dates, and ranks.
“They’ve packed everyone into two days?” Joy was the first to speak, obviously looking over the fact that the entire first round of first year pairings was to take place over the coming Monday and Tuesday. “What the hell’s up with that? That’s thirty-two matches per afternoon!”
“Lose fast then, and save us all some time,” Viv told him coolly. “Wednesday and Thursday are probably second year pairings, with Friday and Saturday left for the third years. That lets them get all the matches done in seven weeks.”
“Which leaves three for squad-leader selection and team building before the quarter is over,” Rei added with a nod, scrolling down. His last name would be at the very bottom of the list, which meant he should be around…
He groaned as he found his matchup, seeing that he’d been right on the money with his earlier guess.
He was definitely going to have to ask Catcher for some help, between now and… Monday? Damn. Only 1 week left to train.
Out of curiosity, he started to look at the other pairings, scrolling back up to find Viv’s first.
“Why do they have to make it double-elimination?” Joy was still grumbling, pupils moving across the lines as he looked for his own name. “Seems pointless to me. Just cut it to singles and save everyone the time.”
“Double-elimination means reduced chance of unfavorable early knockouts,” Sense explained. Then he made a face. “Damn… I’m up against Kastro Vademe. He’s three ranks higher than me…”
“Bad luck,” Joy said, clearly not really listening. “But who cares about early knockouts? If you’re strong enough to make it, you make it. Simple as that.”
“Nothing’s that simple.”
It was Aria who answered, and Rei looked past Viv’s match-up against some D8 he didn’t know to see her face had gone stony as she stared at one line in the roster.
With a frown, he decided to skip Catcher’s name for the moment, and scrolled to look for “Laurent”.
Viv beat him to it by seconds.
“Well shit…” she muttered, glowering herself as the others looked around at her in confusion.
“What?” Kay asked. “What is it?”
Viv didn’t answer. Nor did Aria. In the end, it was left to Rei, who himself had to read the bracket three times to make sure he wasn’t misaligning things.
“Grant,” he told the other three shortly, nervous excitement clawing at his insides. “First round has Aria matched up against Logan Grant.”
CHAPTER 37
Mid-October - One Week later
“It’s honestly small wonder that the SCTs so rapidly captured the interest of the masses. Pinnacle examples of CAD-combat can sate even conflicting urges the human mind is capable of possessing. Users are dancers in their own way, a good match like watching the choreographed ballets of the planetary companies. They are social events, a hub for interaction and engagement both locally and across the systems, with public feeds gathering masses and private showings being the center focus of parties and outings and soirees.
And, of course—at the heart of it all—there ever remains the fact that the tournaments scratch that itch so many of us suffer, that ecstatic enthusiasm for violence and energy that has had man’s blood boiling since the concept of competition was first conjured up in the primitive minds of our most ancient ancestors…”
- A Consideration of SCTs and Their Intersystem Influence
Lieutenant Colonel Hana von Geil, Ph.D.
Distributed by Central Command, Earth
CLANG!
For the umpteenth time Aria felt her left arm jar painfully as she accepted the cut of Logan Grant’s axe, ducking low and angling her shield above her so that the white-and-red weapon screamed and skittered off the red-gold steel over her head. She
swept Hippolyta’s spear low, aiming for his ankles, but Grant leapt up and away, avoiding the follow-up smash she’d been hoping to catch him with in midair.
Apparently Rei wasn’t the only one clever enough to study up on her moves.
Landing some 5 feet back, it wasn’t more than a blink before Grant plowed forward again, wet sand spraying up from under his bare feet with every broad step. Once again Aria accepted the initial attack, dissipating some of the heavy blade’s impact by letting herself be driven back a foot, further into the ankle-deep surf already lapping at her shins.
They were dueling on a Sunset Beach variation, half the field consisting of the uneven incline of the sandy shore, the other half the washing in and out of a shallow tide. Ordinarily most Users would probably have done everything they could to stay out of the water, wanting to keep their feet and legs free of the clinging sand and surf to use their Speed to every advantage on the firmer beach. Aria’s first act when the Arena had called the start of the match, though, had been to make for the waves. For one thing she was a Phalanx, and the impairment of her own mobility by the tide would only be minor compared to the impact on most opponents forced to wade in after her.
For another, the “Sunset” part of the field title meant the projected horizon was at her back, shining—if even only dimly—in Logan Grant’s eyes.
Seeing a chance, Aria thrust straight for the Mauler’s gut, but the massive boy twisted with shocking dexterity, avoiding getting impaled by inches as he swung at her right side. Turning with her whole body Aria caught the axe on her shield and deflected it upward, retracting her spear in the same movement. Tucking the haft under her arm, she snapped it sideways, using her ribs as a lever point. The resulting slash could hardly have been considered a true hit—the majority of the weak cut absorbed by Grant’s reactive shielding—but her C4 Strength still sent the Mauler staggering to the side with a grunt of pain that told her she’d done some damage, at least.
More importantly, it gave her the chance to adjust her stance again, settling back into her favorite defensive posture as her opponent came again.
The axe fell and was deflected. The spear thrust and was dodged of smashed aside. In a furious blur the pair gave and took, cutting and slashing and stabbing at each other in a dance through the shallow current that had rainbows misting all around them against the dusk light. It was—for all intents and purposes—a solid match-up, and Aria admitted she would have bet any number of credits in the world Grant was going to end up qualifying as a Galens representative for Sectionals.
More than a month of training with Rei, though, had given Aria a new perspective on the rhythm of battle.
Grant was fast, and terrifyingly strong, but in the end he was also consistent. There had been a good breadth of variety in his attack patterns at first, using the full extent of his Device—not just the head of his axe—as a mix of assault points. If anything, Aria suspected he was likely among the more versatile of the first years. A dozen times over she had had to deflect or dodge or block a punch or a kick or a knee that came at her in a blur of white steel and red vysetrium. The closest Grant had come to landing a good hit had been with the butt of his weapon, in fact, having surprised Aria and barely giving her enough time to duck and avoid getting smashed in the temple with it. For the first good minute or two of the fight Grant was a guessing game, and it was only her stellar Cognition and endless hours of training that kept Aria in one piece.
Then, though, the patterns had started to emerge.
Fast as he was, strong as he was, Grant didn’t hold a candle to Rei when it came to inscrutability. Just as Aria had had her own habits discovered and torn apart, so too had she picked up a bit of a talent for doing the same herself, cultivating it over time in their afternoon classes, or whenever she went up against Viv or Catcher in their extra conditioning hours. It might have been a useless measure against Rei—who she suspected still didn’t comprehend the entirety of his value as a training partner—but against anyone with a lesser talent for battle Aria was steadily finding she could apply it with ever-increasing efficiency.
And Logan Grant—though most, Rei included, would deny it—absolutely had a lesser talent for battle.
Right feint into a wheel kick.
The understanding presented itself less as a thought and more as the blink of a moving image, and Aria lifted her shield accordingly toward the axe swinging in from her right. At the last moment Grant pulled the weapon down and away, twisting into a massive kick that would have sent her staggering had she not appropriately braced already, leaving the Mauler the one stumbling back post-impact. He managed to deflect her follow-up thrust, then brought his axe overhead.
Full downcut. No feint.
Aria timed her arcing wrench of Hippolyta’s shield upward, smashing the cleaving strike aside even as she slashed with her spear. Again Grant’s attack was foiled, but again he displayed astonishing dexterity by accepting the deflection and turning it into a diving roll that brought him up to his feet—wet and spitting out sea water—half a dozen feet away.
Of course, he made no hesitation of lunging once more.
Again and again Grant came, and again and again Aria rebuffed him. With every passing second she felt like she understood more, could read a little further ahead. The broad boy seemed out of tricks, and he knew it, too, his normally prim black hair plastered over eyes so filled with blistering frustration, Aria was surprised Hippolyta didn’t melt off her body. Again he came, and again she sent him staggering back.
Still, she wasn’t really getting anywhere herself, walling up to camp like she was…
Her Cognition provided her with the opportunity within seconds of setting itself to the task.
Rei’s gonna like this, Aria thought, allowing herself a grin.
Inadvertently, the smile turned out to be the perfect bait for the already-irritated Mauler.
She thought she heard Grant snarl and curse as he lanced forward again, bringing his axe around in a cleaving blow at her left side. Aria saw the trick even before her NOED lit the lower half of the weapon up in red too. She saw the shift in the strike, the redirection of the momentum only capable by a User with tremendous Strength and Speed. Instead of the blade cutting at her side, Aria found the butt sweeping up towards her face.
Too bad it was the second time he’d gone for this exact trick in the 4 minutes they’d been fighting.
Aria dropped like a stone, extending one leg for stability and trusting the other to accept her and Hippolyta’s weight. The axe’s haft whooshed overhead uselessly, and before Grant could bring any kind of defense to bear Aria powered upward again, at an angle this time. The Mauler was too close to be in any kind of feasible range for her spear, and Aria didn’t have time to draw back her shield. Instead, she simply drove her head into Grant’s stomach, slamming into him with such force she felt his feet exit the water as the boy gave a loud “OOMPH!” of sound. He catapulted backwards, barely managing to hang onto his axe, landing and tumbling into the surf again some ways away. Aria chased after him, powering against the waves, already knowing she wouldn’t reach him in time to get a killing blow in. Sure enough, Grant hardly thrashed before he was on his feet.
Aria, though, bent once again, then slammed the edge of her shield into the ocean.
A massive spray of salt water erupted outward away from her, half-wave, half-mist. Grant actually yelled as the assault caught him full in the face, the hand he instinctively brought up to protect his eyes utterly worthless.
For Aria, though, it offered just the time she needed to close the rest of the distance, and she gave a war-cry as she plunged her spear at the griffin stitched across Grant’s chest.
She had actually just felt the impact the blade cutting through the shielding, just felt the resistance of flesh and bone as the tip started to drive into skin, when Grant’s hand snapped down, grabbing it about the haft just below the weapon’s head and stopping it dead.
/> He had caught the spear.
What the—?! Aria started to think in alarm, but a moment later she was forced to wrench back as the axe came driving around crosswise, very nearly taking her head off. What was going on? How was that possible? Grant had a fist around Hippolyta’s haft! How could a Mauler manage to swing his Device if he—
And then Aria registered the sizzle of evaporating water, and an instant later she saw the flames.
Crimson ion fire was flickering off of Grant’s vysetrium lines, setting the water droplets that had built up over the white steel to boiling. His entire Device was glowing a brilliant red, cutting through the dim colors of the sunset to their left. He held firm to her spear, refusing to let it go even when Aria wrenched at it, and his eyes were alight with angry focus as he lifted his axe again in one hand.
Overclock, Aria realized.
The understanding clicked, and she made the decision to let go of the spear in favor of throwing herself backwards as Grant cut at her wielding arm, this time.
She could imagine the sounds the crowds must have been making, then, as she found her footing in the water. Armed with nothing but her shield, now, she stood facing a monster of steel and muscle and fire. That Grant had developed his first Ability was news to her—as it was undoubtedly to the spectators—and despite the field cutting them off from the stands Aria knew people would be shouting themselves deaf in that moment.
Especially after Grant pulled Hippolyta free of his chest with a tug to cast the weapon into the water, then launched himself after Aria with the bellow of an angry titan.
With nothing left for it, she decided it was time to use her own trump card.
Third Eye!
She trigged the mental command just as Grant reached her, literally feeling the dormant parts of her neuroline tingling into life in her head and down her spine. All of a sudden Aria’s left arm felt… not her own. Like a prosthetic that granted her sensation, but no muscular control.
Iron Prince: A Progression Sci-Fi Epic (Warformed: Stormweaver Book 1) Page 65