As the extension sword struck the hardwood floor and clattered to a halt the room became deathly quiet as Mike brought his sword back into line and pointed it at the panting Templar’s chest.
“The fight is not over until blood is drawn from the torso,” Sir James announced.
Mike nodded and stepped back lowering his sword.
“Please, retrieve your sword,” he said with a slight nod to the fallen weapon.
Sir Matthew looked at him strangely for a moment and then nodded in return. Walking over he picked up the cylinder pommel and reactivated the blade. Turning back, he walked calmly back towards the waiting navy officer.
“You’re fast,” he said praising his opponent.
“You are too and strong I might add,” Mike replied finding this duel to be one of the most high-speed fights in his life.
Collins had been trained by some expert martial artists and swordsmen in his life including Commander Hutton but he had only once before faced someone this fast and strong. No matter where his family had been stationed when he was growing up his father had always found him the best instructors. One of his teachers had once taught at the Imperial Academy and was even a veteran of the Vorooshian Occupation. He was one of the humans taken to a Voroosh planet to fight and die in their death games. He had not only defeated their champions but had led a revolt of other human prisoners. They then escaped and helped to steal a Kazad made warship which they used to liberate Earth and the Human race. His name was Colonel Robert Bannon.
Robert Bannon, who was often called “the Bane,” was an old man when Mike had gone for a summer to train with him. This old soldier was faster and stronger than the strongest man in their class. He moved like lighting with the grace of cat. Mike had learned a great deal about close quarters combat fighting from him in those three short months. Looking back, he remembered fighting his hardest with the ancient warrior and Bannon just smiling back at him the whole time as if he was enjoying even minute of the challenge.
“Shall we begin again?” Sir Matthew proposed bringing his sword up to guard.
Mike nodded and brought his blade up angling its point towards the knight’s face.
The Templar tapped the side of his blade and then tapped it again before disengaging and back beating. He then drove forward with a fast lunge.
Mike stepped back fast, bringing his sword back around parrying the lunge and following it with a riposte.
Sir Matthew skipped back from his lunge and parried the riposte. He then extended his sword into a stop thrust hoping that Collins would rush in after him and impale himself onto his sword.
The young navy lieutenant quickly halted his pursuit thus ending their conversation of blades or phrase d’armes.
The two swordsmen reestablished their respective distance and once more circled each other.
Commander Hutton had been watching the duel with fascination. Though he was an expert swordsman, Inter-Galactic Olympian and had fought numerous duels he had never seen such a blinding fight. He was having trouble keeping up with the movements of the fight. He was feeling like a damn novice trying to watch two masters as his mind reeled at their speed.
In all the lessons that he had given Collins back when he was Master of Sword at Harpers Academy he had never seen the young man display such speed. It made him wonder if he had always had such speed and power, and if he had been hiding it all this time or if this was due to his hardwire. Though the last he heard, Mr. Collin’s hardwire hadn’t been activated.
As the former commando was pondering this thought while waiting for the next engagement of the two combatants he suddenly felt a pounding in his head. It took him a moment before he realized that someone was accessing his neural comm. unit.
“Commander Hutton can you hear us?” a voice said inside of his head.
Reaching up to behind his ear he tapped twice signaling that he could hear them but couldn’t speak. He had hoped that whoever was using his neural unit knew the codes.
“Roger your reply. Sir, we need you to get your palm pad or a comm. unit close to a Templar control panel or interface so we can piggy back a signal into their systems,” the voice that sound like Lt. Daily’s said slightly resonating in his head.
Once more Hutton signaled his acknowledgement of their request with a tap behind his ear.
As Mike and the young knight engaged in another spirited exchange of poly-carbon steel he stepped back and edged his way to the doorway. There he had spotted a control panel that was probably also a comm. station. He was careful and kept his movements as natural as possible. He could see that Sir James was preoccupied with the fight but there were also two other Templars on the other side of the observation window watching them. Reaching the panel, he casually placed his left hand by the controls as he reached up with his right hand and tapped his subdermal sensor behind his ear.
“We’re in!” said Daily’s voice with a hint of excitement.
Hutton held his position by the door waiting for the young computer genius to signal he was done. As he waited the doors to the hallway suddenly opened and almost two dozen Templar knights, men at arms and monks entered the room. At first he thought they had discovered his people’s attempts to hack into their systems. Carefully and quickly he slid his right hand down to his Smith and Wesson gauss pistol’s grip but it was unnecessary. The new arrivals had just come in to watch the duel, much to Sir James’ outrage.
Leaning back and looking into the hallway he could see that at least another dozen of the base’s personnel were watching from the observation window. Overlooked in the rush to watch the fight the navy commander kept his post by the door while holding his palm pad behind his back and as close to the control panel as possible.
Sir Matthew was having a tough time of it so far. The young navy officer wasn’t just strong and fast but skilled, all of which had surprised him. His normal fencing partners were usually his fellow knights and squires. The other Templars were like him, blessed with speed and power far beyond that of a normal man. Upon knighting they were all given a hyper-injection that increase they strength and speed.
It also had several draw backs, one being that it made them very hungry. This was a hungry that was with them almost all of the time. The second was that it made them chaste. Their desire and ability to have carnal knowledge was made impotent. It would normally be a hell of a price but many religious orders had such a vow and the hyper-injection just made it easier to keep such vows. The last draw back was that the shot only lasted about a year.
Sir Matthew’s current problem had little to do with his hunger or his inability to make love. The Confederation navy lieutenant had managed to kick him in face, cut his arm and disarm him. His latest flurry of compound attacks composed of two feints to different lines of attack to try and draw the officer into reacting. He then preformed a counter beat by circling his sword under his opponent’s and then struck at his sword blade to force it off line and out of the way.
To his surprise the navy man performed a counter parry just as he did his technique, circling along with his movement and then beating his sword after it came back in line and extending his point. It was a perfect derobement.
The young lieutenant then did a feint of his own and disengaged under the Templar’s sword as he corkscrewed inward and into a thrust. Sir Matthew hopped backward into an awkward volt while avoiding the thrust as he parried downward just stopping the attack with a weak beat parry. Using the momentum of his beat parry he brought his point back in line as he took a further step backwards to safety.
Stopping his retreat, he feinted a low cut to the leg and then brought his blade up to a head cut, stopped and quickly performed a cut over taking his blade up and over the top of his opponent’s sword. To those watching it was all just a blur of blades. Sir Mathew felt his victory was assured as he cleared the navy man’s sword and came down towards his shoulder.
To his surprise the officer brought his blade up into an angular parry stopping his
attack. Pressing forward he glided his blade into a glissade along his opponent’s sword while using his strength as he pressed it back towards him. The lieutenant pushed back as their blades slid down bringing them close together in a corp de corp or a body to body encounter. Both swordsmen struggled as they pressed forward against each other blades.
Sir Matthew was once more surprised as the Confederation officer held his ground against his great strength. Stepping back, he released and removed his sword as he moved off in an angular step. Bringing his sword down as the lieutenant passed by he sliced him along the wrist.
Mike felt the blade cut the top of his wrist as he rushed by and he was forced to let go of his sword. The Templar quickly moved into finish him but Collins had also moved. Bringing his left side forward with a quick step he snatched the pommel of his extension sword in mid air with his left hand. Reactivating the sword’s blade, it sprang out into a stop thrust.
Sir Matthew was committed to his attack and was unable to break his forward momentum and stop his leap. It almost seemed like slow motion as he could see that the point of his opponent’s blade was now in line with his heart yet he was helpless to save himself from this most certain death.
That’s what he was still thinking when the point shift with a slight movement of Mike’s fingers as his pulled his point to the side slicing the young knight along his rib cage and sparring him a mortal wound.
“Halt!” Sir James yelled as the room broke out into a thunderous round of applause from the crowd of spectators.
Mike and the Templar deactivated their blades and stepped towards each other.
“Well fought,” Collin’s said extending his uninjured left hand.
Sir Matthew hung his extension sword at his belt and quickly took his hand.
“And too you,” he replied with a bloody smile from the kick he took earlier in the duel.
Those spectators nearby surged forward to congratulate them and slap them on their backs or shake their hands. To all who saw the fight it was a marvelous and blinding bout.
Nearby, Commander Hutton reached up to his sub dermal implant and signaled by tapping the neural transponder behind his ear.
“Time to go,” he said making it sound as if he was talking to himself.
“Roger that sir,” Martin Daily’s voice replied, “We are good to go, you can sever your connection.”
Hutton tapped once in reply and discreetly pocketed his palm pad as he moved through the crowd.
“Congratulations Lt. Collins, though you’ve both scored cuts to each other you scored the only torso strike and are therefore the winner,” Sir James Ney announced with a nod of approval.
Both combatants were a bit winded but smiling.
“My apologies Sir Matthew,” Mike said once more extending his hand.
“And you have mine as well,” the young Templar said taking his hand in friendship.
“If you want to examine my extension sword you may,” Collins offered holding out his deactivated poly carbon sword.
“No, that sword belongs to you,” the knight replied waving his hand in refusal.
“Let us get both of you seen too so you’ll stop bleeding all over the floor,” Commander Hutton suggested breaking through the milling crowd.
“Medic!” Sir James called.
From the back of the spectators, two monks pushed their way through as the crowd gave way. Their wounds were shallow and a shot of Heal X – Type II along with a few sprays of pseudo flesh and they’d were almost as good as new.
Several Templars suggested a round of drinks in their mess hall and some food for the two combatants. Mike was thinking that would be a great idea until his and Commander Hutton’s comm. links went off.
“Lt. Collins, report back to the shuttle, we are leaving for the ship ASAP,” Captain Hope’s stern voice said without sign of distress or worry.
“Aye sir, we’re on our way,” he replied as he shrugged to the knights and men at arms gathered around him. “Sorry men but duty calls. We’ll have to save those drinks for the next time.”
The crowd of Templar knights and men at arms nodded knowingly and slapped him on the back or shook his hand as he left. Stopping at the doorway he looked back and locked eyes with Sir Matthew. He nodded once and the Templar returned his nod with a smile. They had both bridged a gap and now had a mutual respect for each other that would have taken months if not years to form normally.
Sir James quickly escorted them out of the training hall and through the corridors to the lift which took them back to the hanger bay where their shuttle was waiting.
Entering the shuttle bay they saw that Captain Hope and the base’s Knight Commander were standing by the loading ramp as Dr. Duarte and several monks guided Admiral Underhill-Norton’s floating grav gurney into the shuttle.
Approaching their captain and the Templar base commander the pair of officers could overhear part of their conversation.
“I want repair teams out to the ships of the 12th as soon as possible, don’t forget to send your list of resources and personnel to Commander Richards,” Hope ordered as he watched the grav gurney with his old college chum disappear into the shuttle.
“Yes sir, I’ll have my people on it right away and get our inventory list to you before evening Mass,” Sir Jacob’s said sounding compliant and respectful.
Mike didn’t know what the old warrior did but the Templar Knight Commander was now under heel.
Hope nodded to the Templar and looked to his two wayward officers. For a moment his old eyes narrowed as he saw blood stains on Mike’s leg that were from the cut to his wrist.
“Gentlemen, let us board as we still have much to do,” he said walking onto the shuttle ramp without looking back to them.
Commander Hutton nodded to the Knight Commander and followed after Hope. Mike paused for minute as he looked at the Preceptor of the Templar base.
“Sir, are you and your men going to help us fight?”
Sir Jacob was caught off guard by the question and cleared his throat before he answered.
“By God and Papal Bull I swear that we will,” he answered and then turned and walked away.
Mike watched him for second longer and then sprinted to the shuttle’s ramp as he could hear his Italian friend shout for him to move his ass.
In the hallway Sir Jacob found Sir James waiting for him.
“I want a full report on our Confederation friends as well as a level three security diagnostic. Find out what they got into and what they know,”
“Yes sir,” the knight replied hurrying to keep up with them.
“We are under a Papal Bull to help them but if they know our secret we might have to eliminate them before they can divulge it,” the Preceptor said.
Sir James stopped in his tracks forcing the Knight Commander to stop and look back at him.
“But sir, what about the Papal Bull and the Karduan War?”
Sir Jacob’s face frowned, “Our Grand Master wouldn’t want the real reason that this base is out here to be found out by anyone even supposed allies.”
Sir James didn’t like it but nodded and hurried away to get about determining if the Confederation forces would be their allies or would they be their new targets.
On board the armored shuttle a similar conversation was taking place.
“Alright, report what did we find out about the Templar base?” Hope ordered sitting back and looking to his people.
Cmdr. Hutton went first before anyone else could speak.
“There are a lot of knights and men at arms, the base is large and has high security from what we’ve seen by just walking through their hallways.”
“Their people want to fight and are frustrated that they are sitting out this war,” Mike said having easily goaded the young knight into a fight.
“Lt. Collins can also attest that they are as fast and strong as I remember,” Commander Hutton added absently slipping his Imperial Dueling Society ring off his finger and tucking i
t into one of his coat’s pockets.
“So you lost?” Daily asked from across the shuttle.
“No, Mike is still the Sword of Mars champion and won his match against the knight Templar,” Hutton answered before the young officer could.
The shuttle got quiet as they looked to their friend as some of them wondered how he could have beaten such a fast, strong and skilled opponent.
“I just got lucky,” Mike said.
Hutton shook his head in disagreement.
Dr. Duarte moved away from the Admiral’s gurney and crossed to her love. Sitting next to him she examined the pseudo flesh patch on the wound to the back of his wrist. She shook her head in disapproval at the sloppy way the monk medic had applied the healing sealant.
“What else do we know?” Hope prompted.
“They want to fight but something is holding them back,” Collins remarked feeling that the Templars he met seemed frustrated about their current duties.
“Yes, according to Sir Jacob they were under a Papal Brief to hold this place by any means necessary,” the ancient Captain explained.
“Sir, how did you get them to cooperate?” Lt. Dover asked from the pilot’s chair.
“A Papal Bull beats a Papal Brief as well as throwing in an Imperial Edict for good measure,” he said with a rare smile of triumph.
“You activated their Confederation Reserve commissions,” Hutton surmised with a slight nod and smile of his own.
“So they are now on our side?” Daily inquired.
Hope shrugged, “We’ll see and we should keep our guard up in case we've read this wrong.”
Everyone said a quick “Yes sir” to his comment for caution.
“Ok, what did our hackers find out?” Sir Randolph asked looking over to the quiet but slightly smiling Lt. Dover.
“With the help of Commander Hutton we were able to piggy back into some of their systems. We found out that this place is big - very big!” he said having his palm pad project its 3-D holo screen into the air for them all to see.
Wolf's Run: The Chase of War (Star Wolf Sqaudron Book 2) Page 27