Almost low enough, she thought as she again mirrored his movements.
This time he launched his own set of long, sweeping leg kicks. They were easy enough to dodge, but the circle was so small that doing so would have brought her very nearly out of the circle. It was a clever enough ploy, but it was also one which she had anticipated.
She took two steps back, appearing to commit to a third backpedaling step as he launched another long, sweeping kick toward her shins. But before taking that third step, she kicked her foot back and executed a flying punch aimed directly at his kicking leg.
Clearly surprised by her move, Glaucus had little choice but to plant his leg and accept her mighty, downward punch to the thigh. The wet ‘thwack’ her fist made elicited a chorus of sharp breaths to be drawn by the crowd, and sure enough after she had used her momentum to roll to safety—once again finding herself temporarily behind her foe—she saw his leg briefly fail to obey its owner’s commands as he almost lost balance during his turn to face her.
This time, his posture straightened and he literally shook his leg out. The look of annoyance on his face was long gone, and in its place was something more befitting a would-be Lancer. Unlike most of his cohorts he did not snarl, growl, or otherwise attempt to intimidate her. Neither was there even a trace of fear present in his visage.
No, the only emotion she could read from him—if it could be called an emotion—was single-minded focus. And that was what she had endured the past week of these tiresome ‘challenges’ and, she supposed, ‘courtships’ to find.
“There you are,” she grunted, echoing the words of her long-departed mentor, Walter Joneson when he had reviewed her own ‘application’ to become a Lancer, “nice of you to show up.”
A quizzical look flashed across his face, and she decided now was the time to do what she had been planning since before the bout’s commencement. She launched her body forward like a missile, extending her knee as though she meant to take him in the chin with one of her signature moves. He was wise to the possibility of such an attack, however, and he blocked her knee precisely as she had expected him to block: with criss-crossed arms.
She threw her right arm down against her side, pivoting her weight that way as hard as she could. She extended her leg and barely cleared her left shin above Glaucus’ right arm as she used her genetically-engineered speed and reflexes to perform what she had come to think of as a ‘flying question mark kick.’
Her foot smacked into the side of his head, just behind the ear, with a gratifying crack. But his reflexes were very nearly as good as her own and he somehow managed to trap her leg after flailing up with his arm while his body—briefly robbed of its equilibrium by her perfectly-placed kick—sagged toward the ground.
Acting purely on instinct, she used his grip as leverage and swung her right shin over his head in a flying roundhouse kick. Her shin buried itself against his wrist, and strong though he was—even for a Tracto-an—the power of her strike, combined with his lack of equilibrium, was enough to break her left leg free of his grip hooked grip.
He regained his balance just as she got her feet under her, and as he gathered his feet beneath himself she saw her window closing. Lunging forward, she leapt high in the air and grasped for the back of his neck with both hands. He realized her intention too late, however, as she put her vice-like grip on the rippling muscles of his neck. He stiffened his back, leaning back as hard as he could, and to her surprise he actually lifted her several inches.
But her surprise was short-lived. She curled her arms in toward her ribs and began driving her knees, one after another, into his liver and spleen without losing her iron grip on his neck.
He struggled—valiantly, she would later admit—to shake her off, but her relatively light, one hundred kilo frame actually served to advantage her in this particular exchange. No matter where he turned, or which way he pivoted, she used his own momentum against him to further tighten her grip on his neck while burying her knees repeatedly into his torso. None of her blows were fight-enders, but all it took was a single well-placed shot to the liver to put even the most valiant warrior down for a few seconds.
Eventually, she found the sweet spot just beneath his ribs, and landed a blow to his ribs that saw his body briefly go limp—which was all it took to being her toes to the floor for the briefest of moments.
That was all it took for her to use her unparalleled power-to-weight ratio to launch her left knee into his perfect, pearly white teeth…well, into his previously perfect, pearly white teeth.
He staggered from the blow, allowing her to touch her feet to the deck again, and this time it was her right knee that rearranged the focal point of the man’s vanity. By now he was well-and-truly defeated, but she saw potential in him which had been absent in the other ‘applicants’ of the day.
So when he fell to one knee, clearly addled from her repeated blows to the head, she held him upright and slammed another half dozen blows into his face. The first two were off-target as he vainly struggled to avoid square shots, but after those two it was unlikely he retained any of his senses.
Her work done, she stepped back and saw a trio of teeth—or the better portions of them—fall out of his mouth and clatter to the deck. He then swayed to the side and crashed to the deck, snoring as loudly as any of her babies had done since arriving aboard this new ship, which apparently suited them better than their previous lodgings had done.
She doubted more than a few of his front teeth remained plugged into their original sockets, and she knew she would get an earful from her mother after the man reported to Medical to secure her services to repair or replace the lost members. But it had been the right thing to do for him; he had been only the third recruit to step into the circle thus far that had what it took to join a unit which had essentially been created for her by Walter Joneson himself prior to his death.
Not just anyone could be allowed in, but Glaucus had proven himself worthy of at least a second look. And she fully intended to give him that look—after he got his face fixed, of course.
“Next?” she asked, standing and wiping her brow with a fresh rag which she pulled from her hip pocket. She swept the assemblage, which had thinned out significantly since the start of the affair an hour earlier. In truth, it had been the most challenging day of the tryouts thus far. She was grateful for the exercise, but a glance at a nearby chronometer told her that it was time to wrap things up.
When no one stepped forward to accept her invitation, she scowled and made eye contact with a nearby Tracto-an.
“Take him to Medical,” she said, gesturing to the still-snoring Glaucus before turning on her heel and leaving the circle for the day, “and bring all of his teeth.”
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Table of Contents
Chapter One: Let’s See What She’s Got!
Chapter Two: The Mysterious Man
Chapter Three: Running Home to Wolf-9
Chapter Four: Let the Finger Pointing Ensue!
Chapter Five: A meeting of the minds
Chapter Six: Discord behind closed doors
Chapter Seven: The Oleander Perspective
Chapter Eight: Kong Pao’s Sector 23 Reinforcements
Chapter Nine: Playtime
Chapter Ten: The Imperial Side!
Chapter Eleven: Repairs and concerns
Chapter Twelve: The Delaying Force
Chapter Thirteen: Reporting Home
Chapter Fourteen: Reinforced at Wolf-9
Chapter Fifteen: A Private Meeting
Chapter Sixteen: New Arrivals Admiral
Chapter Seventeen: Oleander Changes Ships!
Chapter Eighteen: The Arms Dealer from Sector 24
Chapter Nineteen: As ready as we can be
Chapter Twenty: Imperials move into position
Chapter Twenty-one: Slashing Attacks
Chapter Twenty-two: Survivors arrive
Chapter Twenty-three: The
Third Battle for Easy Haven
Chapter Twenty-four: Stuck in Gambit
Chapter Twenty-five: The Second Battle for Sector 25
Chapter Twenty-six: Head to Head on the outskirts
Chapter Twenty-seven: Paying it back
Chapter Twenty-eight: The Hammer of Man
Chapter Twenty-nine: Falling Back
Chapter Thirty: Moving the Main Force
Chapter Thirty-one: An Imperial Push
Chapter Thirty-two: Testing the Water
Chapter Thirty-three: The Wolf-9 Response
Chapter Thirty-four: The Montagne Initiative
Chapter Thirty-five: Janeski and the Fighter Strike
Chapter Thirty-six: Kling and the Light Relief Force
Chapter Thirty-seven: LeGodat’s Price
Chapter Thirty-eight: Imperial Cruiser Command
Chapter Thirty-nine: Fighters Move In
Chapter Forty: Right up their sterns and fleeing the scene of the crime!
Chapter Forty-one: Confusion in the Sensor Department
Chapter Forty-two: Imperial Fighters moving in
Chapter Forty-three: A hit! A definite hit!
Chapter Forty-four: Riding it out
Chapter Forty-five: Fighting for the lives of their comrades
Chapter Forty-six: An Imperial Push: Destroyer Style
Chapter Forty-seven: Moves like a Primarch
Chapter Forty-eight: Moving in for the Kill
Chapter Forty-nine: Jason Swings his squadron of Battleships around Wolf-9
Chapter Fifty: Grinding them down
Chapter Fifty-one: Serge’s Strike
Chapter Fifty-two: Klinging to Hope
Chapter Fifty-three: Led by the nose
Chapter Fifty-four: Caught Out
Chapter Fifty-five: The Imperial Flag Bridge
Chapter Fifty-six: Admiral’s Choices
Chapter Fifty-seven: The Clover Lives!
Chapter Fifty-eight: In the Outer System
Chapter Fifty-nine: Attacking the Starbase
Chapter Sixty: Dark Matter’s Second Ride
Chapter Sixty-one: Droid Conflict: A Weak Link on the Chain of Command
Chapter Sixty-two: MSP to the Rescue?
Chapter Sixty-three: Firing Main Cannon
Chapter Sixty-four: On the Starbase
Chapter Sixty-five: Reaction on the Invictus
Chapter Sixty-six: The Montagne Maneuver!
Chapter Sixty-seven: Without a flank to turn
Chapter Sixty-eight: Forced Duty
Chapter Sixty-nine: Dark Matter: Coming to Grips
Chapter Seventy: The Eye of the Tiger
Chapter Seventy-one: Imperial Reaction
Chapter Seventy-two: The opening
Chapter Seventy-three: Rage on the Flag Bridge
Chapter Seventy-four: On the Gun Deck
Chapter Seventy-five: Desperate times
Chapter Seventy-six: The Tide Turns
Chapter Seventy-seven: Chaos on the Gun Deck
Chapter Seventy-eight: The Imperial Flag unfurled
Chapter Seventy-nine: Lancers on the Invictus Rising
Chapter Eighty: Desperate Times on the Hull
Chapter Eighty-one: Akantha on close approach
Chapter Eighty-two: Imperial Irritation
Chapter Eighty-three: General McMann
Chapter Eighty-four: The Brunt
Chapter Eighty-five: Nottingham’s Plan
Chapter Eighty-six: A Little Elbow Grease
Chapter Eighty-seven: The Boats Arrive
Chapter Eighty-eight: Into the Burrow
Chapter Eighty-nine: The second shot
Chapter Ninety: Wolf-9 Falls?
Chapter Ninety-one: Dark Matter vs. Entropy
Chapter Ninety-two: Imperial Command II
Chapter Ninety-three: Dark Matter
Chapter Ninety-four: Chaos on the move!
Chapter Ninety-five: Just a Shrub in the Office
Chapter Ninety-six: Breaking into the Breakout
Chapter Ninety-seven: The Battle Turns
Chapter Ninety-eight: Pride of the Imperial Hunter
Chapter Ninety-nine: A Late Start: It’s a Spalding!
Chapter One hundred: Hold! Push!
Chapter One hundred one: Out of Moves?
Chapter One hundred two: Arnold Janeski
Chapter One hundred three: Moving into Firing Position
Chapter One hundred four: Rivals Rage
Chapter One hundred five: Bad news from the Carrier
Chapter One hundred six: She was the very model of dangerously outdated space technology.
Chapter One hundred seven: Fire and Fury on the Command Deck
Chapter One hundred eight: Admiral’s Trouble
Chapter One hundred nine: Gunboats to the rescue…is it enough?
Chapter One hundred ten: Under Threat
Chapter One hundred eleven: On the Command Carrier
Chapter One hundred twelve: The Tide Turns
Chapter One hundred thirteen: The Furious Phoenix
Chapter One hundred fourteen: Heroic Measures
Chapter One hundred fifteen: He was the very model of an old, outdated space engineer
Chapter One hundred sixteen: The Metal Titan
Chapter One hundred seventeen: Rivals Rage Redux
Chapter One hundred eighteen: Hard Decisions
Chapter One hundred nineteen: A simple engineering problem
Chapter One hundred twenty: Is it Victory?
Chapter One hundred twenty-one: Survivors
Chapter One hundred twenty-two: Counting the Cost and Tallying the Gains
Preview Content: Fear God and Dread Naught
Preview Content: Lynch’s Legacy
Admiral's War Part Two (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 10) Page 51