They had managed to find a rather impartial judge in the form of Marcus Santiago. The surprise was that the man was from the AEU delegation. The Spanish knight was an oddity for his remarkably even-temper, as well as the fact that he was a part of the Table. Normally, the Pendragon family only raised other Britons to their personal guard. When he had heard of a duel taking place for the sheer joy of competition, Marcus, the Wolf Knight, had immediately volunteered his services.
Arkadios started going through the practiced stretches of his chosen martial art. While at first the thought was generally that martial arts wouldn’t mesh with the phalanx battle style of the Spartans, it quickly went away; not every battle could make use of a phalanx. All Spartans, indeed, all Guardians, mastered at least one style during their training. It seemed to add a much needed grace and surety to their movements, in or out of battle.
On the other side of the garden, Arkadios’ opponent, Kiyoshi, ran through his own ritual, which appeared to combine elements of Aikido and Jujutsu. Neither was hurried in either of their movements, with their masters locked up in a room for hours on end neither had any duties this day.
Marcus stood between the last of the Spartans, Nestor, and a Samurai, Kou. Their cultures were made very apparent by their clothing. Marcus relaxed in loose jeans, a t-shirt, and a worn leather jacket, with a sword incongruously strapped to his back. Nestor sat attentively on a bench, clad only in a black wool kilt and his scarlet cloak. Kou, wearing loose robes, seemed almost happy as he talked animatedly with Marcus.
Taking several deep breaths, Arkadios walked to the edge of the circle to signify his readiness. A few minutes later, Kiyoshi followed suit. Their respective companions moved over the help them put on their armor.
Now that he was properly appareled for the fight Arkadios stepped into the blue and white ring. He carried much the same armament as Telamon did the day before: heavy round shield, eight-foot spear, and two razor-sharp leaf-bladed short swords. In contrast, Kiyoshi had on a lighter variety of Samurai armor, and held his own three-pointed spear in a two-handed grip. Katana and Wakizashi were belted around his waist.
Marcus rang the gong; the match began. They stalked each other for a few moments, Arkadios with a grin and Kiyoshi very calm. Kiyoshi swept his spear into a straight shot for the Spartan’s face, but before Arkadios could block, the samurai reversed the flow of his attack to strike at his opponent’s foot. Arkadios stepped back lightly to avoid the blow, and responded with a powerful overhead thrust of his own.
*****
“So how have you punished the Republics for their attack?” Uther asked. He was trying to stare down the High Sentinel, the fool.
Michael just looked at the young king with a funny face. “That is one of the items on my agenda. If you truly didn’t know this already then perhaps you should make sure that your intelligence agency is up to its task,” he said blithely.
Pendragon grimaced slightly. Michael had begun to take a new tact with the young man: be happy and whimsical. Uther kept getting so frustrated that he couldn’t properly pursue an agenda that was almost certainly only to his gain. A positive result in Michael’s book.
“As I have already explained,” President Roberts reiterated. “The attack on your research facility was undertaken by a rogue black ops group that had already been dismantled and disavowed well before the assault.”
“Then they were remarkably well outfitted and manned. At least we picked up some interesting bits of tech from the forces we captured. So nothing for restitutions? Even disavowed, the group was still your responsibility to contain,” Michael probed, and then smiled after no answer was forthcoming. “Personally, I think that the best way to regain global balance is for all of our nations to unite in singular purpose. Or, at least appear that way. Pooling our resources should prevent large scale destruction and allow our species to reach heights undreamed of.”
“Just what do you propose this ‘singular purpose’ be, O mighty Sentinel?” Uther questioned.
“Why, expansion on a scale such that even the horrors of another World War wouldn’t imperil the future our species. A golden age of peace and prosperity.”
“So all of our space colonies aren’t up to that task? Why then, did we even construct them in the first place? I believe it was one of your predecessors who convinced my grandfather to build them in the first place.”
“It was a necessary first step. Don’t ever think that all the effort that has been put into the colonies was wasted. Now that we have sufficiently large populations adapted to life in a void, we can send out colony ships equipped with Archimedes drives to inhabitable star systems again.”
“I can remember the last few times the Confederacy sent out such expeditions,” the Emperor said. “As I recall, you still have yet to here word from any of them.”
“They were sent without that expectation. But that is just another reason to send out expeditions. If they have settled their planets, then they will probably have developed technology divergent from our own and that is potentially very beneficial. If they have not settled, we need to know what happened to them anyway, so that we can avoid such fates in the future. Our destiny does not lie in this one small system.”
The Emperor leaned back, taking a deep breath. “A lovely speech, and a most intriguing prospect. Are you confident in the newest series of Archimedes drives though?”
“As much as any of us can be without actual tests outside of the system,” Michael grinned. “However, we have gotten the last few production lines so accurate that our courier ships don’t need to use Gates to navigate between the various outposts and colony clusters. We should be able to keep in better touch with anyone we send out.”
“I will consider this. As should we all. If this possibility is truly as good as Michael says it is then we all stand to benefit. Now let us move on to more… terrestrial things.”
*****
The spear rebounded off his great round shield, scoring an abundance of sparks off the surface. Arkadios was surprised at his opponent; the man was almost as resilient as a Spartan. Granted, Telamon had warned him that the Samurai were tough. Worthy opponents he had said. Unfortunately, Arkadios hadn’t thought he’d have a true challenge. Give it to a humble Samurai to reveal a Spartan’s one true weakness – pride. Interestingly the Spartans who had been humbled in their lifetimes were the ones that were most effective; accomplishing the most missions successfully and surviving most often.
Kiyoshi whipped his spear, his yari, across his chest, turning aside Arkadios’ own blade. Arkadios moved forward with his attack, bringing up his shield to push back the Samurai. He spun on his heel, whipping his spear’s butt spike around to shatter one of the lacquered wood panels making up Kiyoshi’s breastplate.
Pressing his advantage, Arkadios jabbed with the spear. Kiyoshi was not as off-balanced as he appeared, and caught the spear blade inside the right-angled tines of his yari. Kiyoshi wrenched both weapons as hard as he could, and was rewarded with the snap of hardened ash from the Spartan’s spear. Unfortunately, the force needed to destroy his opponent’s weapon, had also fractured the bamboo shaft of Kiyoshi’s own yari.
Arkadios immediately hopped back, drawing one of his short swords from it’s sheathe in his shield. Kiyoshi tossed the broken shaft of his yari at Arkadios, blocking with his shield. The Samurai used those precious few seconds to draw both katana and wakizashi.
The two warriors circled, each testing the other’s defense. What few attacks got past his heavy bronze shield, Arkadios’ sword easily handled. Comparably, the Samurai’s two swords defeated each of Arkadios’ attacks in turn. A low blow deflected by the Spartan’s round shield ended up cutting a line on his upper arm.
Arkadios pushed with all his might, the Samurai stumbled, fell. Kiyoshi rolled back to his feet, ready once again for the onslaught.
*****
“On a brighter note, in working with the Corporations, we’ve managed to reclaim almost fifty percent of
the irradiated regions in North America.” Michael reported, glancing at the dossier in front of him.
“One wonders, if this technology might be made available to my people. We’re still struggling with the greater area of China, and it would be nice to be able to produce more food for those depending on me,” inquired the Emperor.
“Aye; and I do it gladly. Nothing would please me more than to see the Earth whole once more. We’ve already adapted some of the techniques to help the Zulus recover land from the Sahara and make it arable.”
“And we are grateful for that, Michael,” Lwazi said.
“As long as we are speaking of irradiated wastelands, what has been done about the Middle East?” inquired Uther.
Michael chuckled. “That’s a question better asked of yourself as most of it falls under your dominion. I’m sure we’ll get to that eventually though. However, our resources are better spent in other areas. Especially since Asia Minor has only been useful for its fossil fuels, and we have long been above the need for those.”
“Still, I would like to not be bound by what foodstuffs my colonies can produce, so if you would make this technology of yours available, I would be most appreciative.”
“This technology is something I gladly make available to all who would use it well. It seems to me that creating arable land, and using it, is worthy of that,” Michael said gently.
“Then it is settled!” The Emperor exclaimed, startling his peers to full awareness. “Now, have your men had any more luck than mine at finding the pirates who have been raiding the outer colonies?”
“We think that they’re holed up somewhere in the inner asteroid belt. At least, the main group is. From what we’ve been able-“
“There are more than one group of Pirates?” Uther interrupted, disbelievingly.
“As I was saying, we’ve been able to find evidence of separate groups operating out of the Kuiper belt, as well as spaces between the planets. History has shown that there is never just one group of pirates. What I have to wonder is how such individuals gain their weaponry.”
“I believe that the black market has been a plague on civilization for almost as long as pirates, historically.” The Emperor chimed in helpfully. “Now, I’m sure we have much more to speak of, however, I grow weary. Are there any objections to continuing our discussions tomorrow?”
“None from me, I would actually appreciate the opportunity to retrieve some more up to date information for the talks,” Michael replied. Lwazi, Roberts, and the unusually quiet CEO Romo signaled their consent. Uther merely nodded his agreement with the sentiments.
*****
By some unfortunate miracle, Kiyoshi had managed to cut through his heavy shield. Having tossed the now useless piece of metal and wood aside, Arkadios had drawn his second short sword.
Both warriors were now bleeding from multiple wounds. Kiyoshi’s armor had been splintered in more than one place, while Arkadios’ breastplate now possessed many new dents, scrapes, and runnels.
Arkadios threw himself into a whirlwind attack, his blades coming from high and low, and no pattern to the blows. Kiyoshi was barely able to deflect each attack, as each pushed him back a step. After a few seconds, the Spartan came out of his spin, slightly lightheaded and dizzy. Kiyoshi flashed a riposte, angling in from the bottom edge of Arkadios’ guard.
Arkadios caught the sword on his cross guard, and heaved a strong kick into the Samurai’s belly. The stricken warrior stumbled, and fell onto his back. Trying to take advantage of this, the Spartan leapt forward. Kiyoshi turned his head from the blow, and struck back with his Katana. The sleek, curved blade took Arkadios in his right bicep, ripping apart some of the muscle.
The pain caused Arkadios to drop the sword held by that arm, and granted the Samurai a momentary reprieve. Securing his grip on the remaining blade, Arkadios threw himself into his attack. Kicking, punching, stabbing; it was all Kiyoshi could do to keep his feet under him during the assault. Finally, their blades met again, the Wakizashi flew from Kiyoshi’s grip, the Katana slipped down to cut into the Spartan’s arm. Arkadios’ blade finally pushed forward…
*****
Telamon activated the electronic scrambler in his gauntlet, keeping all would be listeners at bay. He was again in the garden by their apartments. “You didn’t tell them that we’ve lost communications with one of the colony clusters by Saturn.”
“There’s no need for them to know until we know just what’s going on. Besides, they count on us to keep a watch on the colonies out that far. Until the Sands of Cronus reports what they’ve found, I’ll not endanger our standing with the terrestrial powers, which means maintaining their confidence or fear in us.” Michael replied sternly.
“Still, the men out by Saturn don’t seem to be the most reliable sort any more. Don’t you think we should at least send someone more reliable in charge of the investigation?”
“Wow! What good thinking!” Michael snorted. “You know, for a glorified bodyguard, you really try to take an active role in my decision-making. I tasked Barak Simeon with that assignment already. He was sniffing around on Cronus Station anyway.”
Telamon smirked, and leaned back, his head on a tree. Nestor walked into the garden, chuckling to himself, oh so slightly. “Boss men, I think you might want to go visit Arkadios in the infirmary. He seems to be inordinately pleased with himself and I just can’t tell why.”
Telamon and Michael exchanged quizzical glances. Finally, Michael gestured to Nestor. “Well, lead on, son. We don’t have all day.”
“Technically we do now…” Telamon muttered.
Michael elbowed his friend in the ribs. Following a still chuckling Nestor, they wended their way through the labyrinthine halls of the palace. After several minutes, they found Arkadios sitting in a bed, the one next to him filled by Kiyoshi.
Quickly noting a rather large detail, Telamon pointed it out to Arkadios. “You lost your arm.”
Arkadios grinned. “But I won.”
“You lost your arm.”
“But I won.”
“Ok," Michael broke in. "Now as interesting as this conversation is, I’d really like to know why one of my bodyguards is sitting in the infirmary next to one of the Emperor’s bodyguards, and missing his arm.” Telamon noted that Michael looked a bit… perturbed, yes; that was the word.
“I can explain that,” Telamon volunteered. “Last night at dinner, the pup and the Samurai noticed that they would both like to test themselves against each other. Knowing this, I, being the helpful fellow that I am, talked to the head of the Emperor’s Guard who was sitting next to me at the time. Between me and him, we figured a time wherein the two could duel, I even slipped a note to one of the Knights of the Table. You know, Marcus isn’t really half bad, despite the company he keeps. I mean, he’s courteous and honorable and-”
“Back to why Arkadios is missing his right arm please.”
“Oh, right… well, Marcus volunteered to judge the event, Nestor went for support and… I guess its all Arkadios’ story from there.”
Arkadios related the fight from his perspective, albeit somewhat colored by the drugs in his system. At some point, Argentos had wandered into the infirmary. By the end of the tale, Argentos, Nestor, and Telamon were all laughing; Kiyoshi, while unconscious, was relatively untouched and still in good shape. Michael wasn’t nearly so pleased with either the event or the outcome. At least neither of them had died. At least the Emperor had a sense of humor.
10
June 17, 2289. The Forge, Block 2
I don’t know why I thought that this would be a good idea. Then again, is there a better way to learn the best way to use a long-handled hammer in combat? I was facing off against Jimmy; he did a little flourish with his hammer and pounded at my side. I stepped back and swung my own hammer in a counter attack, barely missing his shoulder. He was a tricky one, that much was sure. We exchanged blows for a little while, playing a game of give and take. He would give and I would tak
e. The tip of his hammer brushed against my stomach before I could parry.
With the exception of Boar, who had inexplicably come down with a strain of influenza, my whole squad was practicing with the new practice hammers. To the left of Haywire and me, the twins, Dumper and Gripe, sparred back to back against Shot-put, Squatter, and Nickel. To our left Spicy and Voodoo were working as a team against Filch and Tinder. Amazingly, no one had been knocked out yet.
While this particular gym in the Academy block was reserved for instructors and graduates, my squad hardly had it to ourselves. All around, there were Vindicators and Castigars exercising, jogging, and sparring. There were even a few Brazilians and Rastafarians practicing Capoeira to the beat of wild music.
Even though he kept avoiding my strikes, I had managed to work Haywire around in a circle. Because of this, I had the perfect view when the doors opened to reveal a half-dozen figures, all dressed in skintight jumpsuits that sported dozens of pockets. I swore quietly. I wasn’t the only man to see the pilots enter. Haywire took advantage of my momentary distraction to land a harder than necessary blow to my stomach, bursting the air from my lungs.
“Dammit… Jimmy… uncalled… for…” I growled as best I could at him. The dreg just smiled at me. That grin grew larger as one of the new arrivals bounded over to him and kissed him on the cheek.
I grimaced at the very feminine form. She peeled herself off of Haywire and embraced me. Finally able to take a deep breath, I spoke.
“When did you get back on the Forge, Sis?”
“Just a few hours ago. My ship docked for routine maintenance, but we’ll still be around for a few days. Oh, and don’t worry, Big Brother, I already put my things in your apartment,” she beamed at me. “Oh, you just have to come to dinner with me and Katie! We’ve been hearing all about this new café down on block five!” She smiled coyly. “You’re welcome to join us, James…”
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