Phase three of my plan begins in the early morning, even before most of the Citadel’s staff has roused themselves. Slowly, in small groups, and taking different routes so as to avoid arousing the suspicions of anybody who might be awake and observing us, my Gazelles and I leave our apartments and head for the Grove.
The first part of the plan was simply meeting with the other unit commanders, and projecting confidence to them. Part two was staging a training session that would give the impression that my confidence was misplaced, so they’d revise their assessment of the threat we posed downwards. And part three involves making sure that we actually are a threat to them. Playing mind games is well and good, but it’s only half the battle. If we can’t acquit ourselves on the battlefield, all of our scheming will have been for nothing.
Sander and I are already waiting at the other end of the trail through the Grove, when the first of the Gazelles arrive. While my behemoth of a bodyguard keeps an eye out for any unwanted guests, I help Kat put on her rappelling harness, and slowly walk her through the steps necessary to descend from the cliffside, and jump through the waterfall entrance into the Subterrane. Understandably, she’s quite nervous about the whole thing, and I offer to let her wait for someone else to arrive, so she can watch them go first and ensure that it’s safe.
To the perpetually-anxious young woman’s credit, she refuses my offer and makes the jump, shrieking as she passes through the water and lands on the other side. A moment later, the now-detached harness retracts to our position, and I send her a congratulatory brainband message for making it through. Even across that mental medium of communication, her shivering is audible. Fortunately for Kat, I already went through once, and left a stack of towels there for everybody to dry themselves off with, before climbing back up to wait with Sander above.
After that, the rest of the unit proceeds through pretty quickly. In the back of my mind, I make note of a few small groups that arrive together- Grant and Valent, Ada and Mars, Tai, Ibrahim, and Colleen. Finally, I head down after them. Like last time, Sander stays up top alone, this time for two purposes. One, to make sure the anchors keeping our rappelling lines in place don’t come loose, and two, to make sure nobody followed us here. Of anybody in the unit, he needs training the least, and left to his own devices for a few hours, I’m sure he’ll find a productive way to pass the time. That’s not to say I don’t feel a little bad for abandoning him, but he assured me quite firmly that he didn’t mind in the slightest.
Once everybody is assembled- after drying off, or in the cases of a few, finding a secluded spot and changing into a spare set of clothes they wisely brought with them -I perch atop a well-preserved statue of some minor Founder to address them.
“I know you’re all wondering why I called you here,” I begin, with a sarcastic smile meant to indicate that I know precisely what cliche I’m invoking. “Before we get to that, though, there’s something I need to know. Did you all remember to get a projector drone so one of your copyclan could go around and make some appearances as you?”
Everybody looks around at each other in silence. Eventually, a lone hand goes up. I peer through the darkness to see who it is, and have to suppress a sigh. Of course it’s Bret. Who else?
“Okay, just one? That’s fine, nobody’s gonna notice. Let’s move on.”
It’s illegal for one mind to be housed in multiple bodies, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible to be in two places at once. A holoprojector drone can be used to house a member of your copyclan, who can then use the device to project a hologram resembling your body, with a high enough fidelity that it’s indistinguishable from the real thing, at least at a sufficient distance. Obviously if they tried to eat something, or open a door, the illusion would be broken pretty quickly, but they just need to make a few token appearances throughout the day, so nobody realizes that the entire Gazelle Unit is nowhere to be found.
“Like I said the other day, that training session was meant to go poorly. We needed to make the other units think we’re weaker than we actually are. But we also need to get some serious training in before the War Games start. Which is why we’re gonna spend the entire day today down here, training.”
A few murmurs in the crowd at that. Bret, in particular, makes an exaggerated groaning sound, and I have to restrain myself from ordering somebody to throw him off of the cliff. He’s in no position to be complaining when he just proved he can’t follow even simple orders- though I’m sure his copyclan would have found a way to blow the whole ruse if he’d actually followed my instructions. Others, however, sound slightly impressed with the complexity of this whole scheme. Because they’re mature enough to understand that what we’re doing has actual stakes, and that it’ll take serious effort on all of our parts if we want to win.
“You’re also probably wondering where exactly we are- so I’ll tell you. This is the Subterrane. The underground section of the Citadel. You’ve probably been down here once or twice before, or at least heard of it, but it still probably looks unfamiliar. That’s because this part of it was sealed off a long time ago. I happen to be aware of a secret entrance, the one we all just used to get in here. Which makes it the perfect place for a secret training exercise, because nobody would know to put hidden cameras down here.”
More murmuring- I even see some raised eyebrows. Probably more than a few people wondering how exactly I know about said secret entrance, considering by my own admission I’d never been away from my provincial homeworld until about a month ago. If they ask, I’ll wink and tell them it’s a secret, to cover for the fact that it was information handed to me by a mysterious benefactor I otherwise know absolutely nothing about. They’d rightly distrust that source, as I would if I was in a position to be looking gift horses in the mouth.
“It’s still pretty early, I’m aware, so we’re not gonna jump straight into it. Instead, Niko’s gonna run some warmup exercises. So follow me this way, and we’ll get started.”
Hopping down off the statue, I lead the unit down a short flight of stairs, into a wide hallway with a broad walkway separating several pools of stagnant water. There’s an empty vase in the center, which at one point presumably held a potted plant, surrounded by some dead grass. The Subterrane was hardly designed for military training, so it was a challenge to find a spot where there would be enough space for everybody to spread out and do warmups. This hallway was the best we could do, and even with the space it provides, some people have to make do with a narrower spot, where losing their balance will probably result in taking an unwanted dip in a pool of water that hasn’t been disturbed save by insects and algae for decades.
In the interest of solidarity, or at least the appearance thereof, I find a spot of my own, and assume the requisite position. Adopting his typical stoic facade, Niko begins to lead us through some basic stretches. It’s a pretty stark contrast to how he acted yesterday, out with Sofie and I. But I wouldn’t have picked him as my Combat Officer if he was like that all the time. On an interpersonal level, I might prefer his more laid-back side, but the impassive, uncompromising side has its own uses.
We start out with some simple stretching, which almost nobody has any issue with. I’m a little bit sore, having spent a couple hours in the gym after my date yesterday, but if anything, this helps lessen that pain, rather than inflaming it. Soon enough, Niko has us transition into some tai chi forms, something I’ve got little experience with. According to him, it’s actually pretty effective for maintaining the body and mind with a focus on combat readiness. Niko barely speaks at all, just demonstrates the movements and allows us to mirror him.
After fifteen or twenty minutes of that, through which most of the unit manages fine, though I do see a few people struggling, Niko speaks up, breaking the silence.
“We’re going to move into some basic Inner Flame forms now. These are more difficult, so bear with me.”
Near me, I see Ibrahim cock his head, intrigued. The Way of the Inner Flame is one of the only belief systems that’s not only permitted to be practiced by the Imperium, but actively sponsored. That’s probably got something to do with the fact that it was founded by one of the Nine Titans, the same set of infamous military leaders that my Founder and Hark’s both belong to. And, of course, that it’s got no spiritual component whatsoever, focusing purely on the improvement of the self and the cultivation of virtue.
Despite its acceptance by the Imperium itself, many people are uncomfortable with the notion of subscribing to a belief system like the Way of the Inner Flame, and letting it dictate how they live their life. I’m not exactly an adherent, but on some level I feel like my own aversion to the idea is because I wouldn’t be able to measure up to the high standard that it demands of its disciples. Niko’s never mentioned being into that kind of thing at all, but I suppose you don’t have to be a devoted believer to think that the exercise routines they use are worth practicing.
Niko wasn’t joking about these forms being more difficult. Most of the stretches we went through earlier were created well before the Imperium was founded, when you only got the body you were born with. That means they were designed for bodies that were objectively less flexible, durable, and efficient than ours are, thanks to genetic engineering. The Inner Flame forms were designed with the modern body in mind, and they push that modern body to its limit. By the time we’re done, I get why it’s got that name- it feels like my entire body is on fire, inside and out.
‘Okay, that was... good,” Niko concludes, as we drop our poses, most of us taking a seat to catch our breath. I’m among that group, wiping a sheen of sweat off my forehead. “I think we can leave it at that. Iza, you wanna take it from here?”
“Sure,” I pant, all eyes turning to me. “Let’s take five and cool off, I’m wiped.”
A few people are too tired to even move, but most of us head back into the atrium where we entered, partly to get a taste of the breeze coming through the open ‘window’ we used to get inside. I open up the bag I brought with me and take out a bottle of water, which I chug like there’s no tomorrow. Most of the other Gazelles had the foresight to bring bags of their own, but for the few that didn’t, I made sure to pack extra water bottles and provisions for them. It’s my job to look after them, after all. Sourcing that much food on short notice without drawing any attention wasn’t easy, but luckily I had the help of my Intelligence Group to make sure nobody asked any questions about why I needed two dozen sandwiches wrapped and ready to go within the hour.
“If that was just the warm-up, I’d hate to see what you have planned for the main event,” Mars jokes, approaching me casually. I give him a nod and a laugh.
“Don’t worry. I think you’re gonna like it.”
“That so?”
“Yeah. But it’s still a while off, so no spoilers.”
Mars accepts that with a nod, and turns away to greet Ada as she passes by, looking more exhausted than I am. Those warm-ups must have hit the tech team the hardest, since for the most part they don’t seem to make physical fitness a priority. On one hand, they should probably reconsider, since they’ll still be on the battlefield for the War Games, even if they’d prefer to be in a workshop most of the time. On the other, I’m not really in a position to be judging anybody for letting the maintenance of their physical instrument fall by the wayside. Plenty of leaders don’t practice what they preach, but I don’t intend to be one of them.
After a few minutes, when it feels like everybody’s caught their breath, I address the group, speaking aloud but mirroring my words on the brainband for anybody who can’t hear me.
“Hope that woke you all up a bit, because we’re not even close to done yet. The Oxen haven’t been sitting around on their asses, so we aren’t gonna either. Now, we don’t know what the structure of the War Games is gonna look like, so we need to be prepared for as many of the possibilities as we can.”
With a click of my fingers, I gesture to Sofie, who swiftly picks up where I left off.
“Right. We ran an analysis of past iterations of the War Games, and determined that there are three main possibilities, based on which formats were used for the first round over the past century. First is a standard deathmatch- whichever side wipes the other out, wins. Second is zone control- each team has to capture and hold certain designated areas on the battlefield, whichever team held more of them for more time once the timer runs out, wins. And third is siege, where one team has to defend a large fortification against the enemy. That one only tends to get brought out when there’s a significant power gap between the units that are competing, so they can handicap the weaker one by giving them the fort. We’re probably not gonna see that one, so it’s really between zone control and deathmatch.”
Even with our little scheme to make the enemy underestimate us, I doubt we came off so bad that the Citadel administration would think we need that big of a handicap. Though if they do decide to give us one, I won’t complain. I’d feel slightly less proud of winning, sure, but victory here is just a stepping stone towards my ultimate ambitions. There’s no sense feeling bad about how that victory is achieved.
“Now, both of those are gonna involve killing the other guys, that’s kinda a given. But we need to figure out how best to make that happen. Some of you are better at that kind of thing, some of you aren’t. In order to have the best odds of winning, we’ll need to split into small fireteams that can operate independently, so as to best accomplish multiple objectives simultaneously. My officers and I have discussed this, and these are the teams we came up with.”
At my gesture, Niko starts reading off the teams.
“First is Iza, Valent, and Katrina.”
That immediately provokes a sigh of relief from Kat, as I suspected it might.
“Second, Amalia, Grant, and me.”
Though he listed himself last, Niko will obviously be leading that team.
“Third. Sofie, Sander, and Ada.”
A slightly weird one, since Sofie isn’t exactly a battlefield tactics expert, but I trust her to keep her eye on the main objective while Sander, his usual single-minded self, deals with the shooting-stuff part of the job.
“Fourth, Mars, Nikitha, and Tai.”
All three of them look satisfied with that selection.
“Fifth, Ibrahim, Bret, and Colleen.”
I’d be lying if I said that saddling Ibrahim with Bret wasn’t a slight bit of revenge for his abortive attempt to undermine my authority back during our first week here at the Citadel. But on the other hand, I did give him Colleen, whose competence should even out Bret’s uselessness. If he’s smart, he’ll find a way to use Bret as a human shield, since that would probably provide more value than giving him a gun.
“Thanks, Niko. Everybody, feel free to split up into your groups now.”
There’s a few moments of minor chaos as the various fireteams coalesce around their chosen leaders. Kat comes to me quickly, and I can tell from the look in her eyes that she’s grateful not to have been put under the command of anybody else. Of course, most of them would have treated her just fine, but she’s more comfortable with me. I don’t mind having her close, either- it’ll give me a chance to try and help her grow a little more confident in her own abilities. Valent, on the other hand, I don’t even see come over, I just turn away for a second and then there he is. According to Sofie, he’s got a habit of pulling tricks like that, disappearing entirely for hours or even days, and then suddenly reappearing with some useful bit of information, refusing to divulge how he acquired it.
“What we’re gonna do now is run a little training exercise, based on a version of the War Games that’s used pretty frequently for upper-year students. It’s called Hoard, and the rules are simple. Everybody gets a token that they carry on them. The objective of the game is to kill other players, and take their tokens. There’s no reward for the killing itself, only for how many tokens you have at the end of the game. So if somebody kills you, they can take all the tokens you’ve collected and double their score.”
As I’m speaking, Niko grabs a black duffel bag and unzips it, offering the contents first to the members of his fireteam before he passes it to the next group.
“Inside that bag are a bunch of tokens- everybody should take one. There’s also fourteen stun guns, one for everybody here. You get hit, it zaps you, and you take a little nap. Unpleasant, but nonlethal. I don’t want anybody getting resurrection sickness this close to the main event. Take one of those too. Once everybody’s got one, you’re all gonna spread out across the Subterrane. This closed-off area is pretty wide, so you shouldn’t have any trouble finding a spot that’s not close to anybody else. After a couple minutes, I’ll signal that we’re starting. When that happens, you’re free to move out and start hunting for tokens- or hunker down and wait for someone to come to you. The game ends after thirty minutes, or after all teams but one are eliminated. Clear enough?”
A few affirmative murmurs and nods, but most importantly no indications of confusion. The bag comes to us- I pull out three tokens and three stun guns, and pass Kat and Valent theirs. These guns fire charged ‘shock rounds,’ rather than wires, giving them range closer to that of a real pistol.
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“Great. Now go on, get out of here. You’ve got ten minutes before the starting gun, so find somewhere good to hole up, or you’ll be easy pickings.”
With a wave of my hand, I send the Gazelles hurrying off. Kat moves to follow them, but I put a hand on her shoulder.
“We’re gonna start out right here.”
“O-oh. Do you want to wait for them to come to us, then?”
I shrug my shoulders theatrically.
“Depends. Is that what you think we should do?”
Looking surprised that I’m deferring to her, Kat falls silent, looking around the atrium for a few moments. Her gaze turns analytical.
“I... don’t think so,” she concludes eventually. “This isn’t a very defensible position. There’s too many entrances. If you’re sure we should start here, then it would be best to go hunting, not hunker down.”
“Okay,” I reply, satisfied. “And you’re gonna be able to pull the trigger when we find somebody to shoot?”
“Yeah,” she declares firmly. “I’ve been practicing.”
“Good.”
While Kat and I have been dialoguing, Valent’s been pacing around the atrium, inspecting its nooks and crannies, toying with the stun-gun in his hand.
“I concur,” he says eventually. “More to the point, might it behoove us to remove these tokens from our personages, and conceal them elsewhere? It may not be in keeping with the spirit of the exercise, but that has never stopped you in the past, has it, commander?”
After considering his proposal for a few moments, I eventually shake my head.
“Wouldn’t make much of a difference. If we get shot, we’re out, so it doesn’t matter much if whoever shoots us gets our tokens or not- either way, we’re not winning. It’d just spite the enemy, which might be worthwhile if this was a real competition, but it would probably just demoralize people if we did it now.”
“You make a compelling point. Perhaps we ought to keep the idea in mind for the future, however.”
“For sure. Now ready up, both of you. I’m gonna put the call out.”
It’s a minute or two earlier than I said we’d be starting, but if my Gazelles can’t deal with that... well, it’d be indicative of a larger problem.
Begin.
My command rings out across the local brainband like the sound of a gong, impossible to miss. Obviously, nobody responds, but I can feel a shift in the air, as the members of each fireteam ready themselves for a fight.
Flicking my tail towards one of the atrium’s nearer exits, I head towards it slowly, stun gun in a two-handed grip. Valent and Katrina follow me, falling into a three-man formation where each of us faces in a different direction, the two of them walking half-backwards in the same direction as me, so as to cover as many angles as possible.
It’s strange how naturally this comes to me. I’ve had some practice with moving to minimize sound, and of course with using weapons, not to mention various combat skillsets I’ve downloaded off the brainband. But none of that, alone, would be enough to account for how right this feels. The reason why is simple enough- I inherited it. Being a Noble is more than having your long-dead Founder’s personality traits, it comes with a set of skills and talents that you wouldn’t otherwise possess. That same phenomenon is why I’m a better tactician than any non-Noble my age, even those with an equivalent level of education.
Kat, too, seems to be experiencing the same thing. Her body language is completely different now, displaying a level of confidence I don’t think I’ve ever seen from her. This exercise has activated her Noble instincts, the same ones that made her Founder, the Shieldmaiden, a formidable warrior.
Proceeding with caution, we enter a cavernous room down a flight of stairs, Valent and I sweeping it with swift precision, ready to pull the trigger the second we see a flash of movement. Kat covers our rear, her breathing even.
This room seems to be a thoroughfare of sorts, centered around a large, empty circular platform in the center, which is flanked by four jagged pillars of glittering blue crystal, the same color as the Citadel uniform. Those natural crystal formations are a common sight on the moon of Akademos, particularly in underground areas like the Subterrane. Beneath the raised platform is some dead grass, and a few gnarled, withered trees, which seem to somehow still be alive, despite having access to little light and no water.
One of the paths branching off from the central platform leads up to a large gazebo, where four statues look inwards at a central altar. As with most of the statues down here, they’re probably Founders, though which ones in particular, I don’t have time to guess at. Heading up into the gazebo, we circle around to the exit on its far end, ducking low to let the altar provide some natural cover for us as we proceed. Going down in a gunfight is one thing, but it would be incredibly embarrassing if we got shot from a distance without ever even seeing who took us down.
The room we enter after passing through the gazebo is similarly cavernous, with crystalline formations jutting from the ceiling above us. Underneath our feet, the floor transitions from white stone walkways to polished crystal, and ahead, set into the ground, is a small circular seating area. Over that seating area is a metal contraption of some sort, most likely an art piece, consisting of multiple interlocking rings suspended in the air by wires. Seeing that fragile balance gives me an idea.
Kay, Vee. Find some cover.
Using my tail, I indicate two spots that seem ideal, an uneven crystal slab on the ground that reaches up to chest height at its apex, and a stone pillar on the other side of the inset seating area. This room has a couple entrances aside from the one we came through, but both of those spots provide cover without being exposed to an ambush from behind.
As my fireteam moves to seek cover, I approach the suspended installation and reach out to it, using my tail’s full length to grasp a low-hanging ring. Pulling it back as far as I can, I let go, causing metal to clash against metal with a resounding sound that shatters the silence of the Subterrane. With the way noise echoes down here, there’s no way somebody didn’t hear that.
With the metal rings still jangling, I dash for cover of my own, finding a shadow corner to crouch in while we wait for someone to come investigate.
Are you sure this is a good idea? Kat asks, some nervousness bubbling back up to the surface, now that she’s had a moment to pause and stop acting purely on instinct.
Best I got, I reply with a mental shrug. Of course, I put a little more thought into it than that, but I really am mainly just acting on instinct here too.
It’s not long before my scheme pays off. Footsteps, faint but audible, echo from a nearby passageway nestled between the cave walls.
Wait for my mark, I instruct the others.
Slowly, a silhouette becomes visible, though I can’t quite perceive much more than that. Body tensing, I draw breath, determined not to give myself away.
“--probably just some animal that managed to make its way down here,” comes the voice of one of the new arrivals. Ada, I think. Speaking aloud, unwisely. Her companion, who I suppose must be Sofie, hushes her with a sharp hiss.
The two of them, our smallest group since Sander is still outside, enter trepidatiously, performing a textbook sweep-and-clear maneuver. Since no obvious threats leap out, they relax slightly and proceed further into the room. I do feel a little bad ambushing the one handicapped group, but this is only a training exercise.
With agonizing, albeit appropriate, caution, the two of them advance towards the center of the room, and the still softly-jangling metal sculpture dangling above it. Sofie turns to scan the room slowly, searching for what could have caused it, and I wait just a little longer, until I’m certain she wouldn’t immediately spot one of us if we popped out. Then--
Do it.
Valent and I lean out from behind our hiding spots- further in my case, as I was already peeking out slightly to watch the Sofie and Ada -and fire, both of us drawing a bead on our targets before pulling the trigger. A moment later, Kat follows suit, too late to do anything except hit Ada a second time.
Both women go down without much of a struggle, though I see Sofie fighting to stay on her feet for a moment before she succumbs to the shock. My fireteam and I slowly emerge from our hiding spots, then scramble over to where they fell, in order to retrieve their tokens. It feels vaguely vulture-like, rifling through their pockets while they’re unconscious, but these are the rules of the game.
“You were a little slow there,” I comment to Kat. Immediately, she cringes in embarrassment, as though she’d been expecting a reprimand. “If there’d been three of them, we would have needed to each hit one. Don’t beat yourself up about it- just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“I’ll try my best,” she responds, voice small.
“In the moment, there is no time for thought, only action,” Valent adds. “Your intuition will guide the way.”
Kat nods, her confidence perhaps not bolstered, but at least less wounded. It’s not fun for me to be a taskmaster, but there’s no room for hesitation on the battlefield, and she isn’t going to improve if I coddle her.
Once we’ve found the tokens, Valent and I each pocket one, while Kat watches our backs. Her previous confidence returns with surprising speed now that she’s out of cover. I’d have expected the opposite, considering her Founder’s specialty was as a defensive strategist. Then again, maybe that’s precisely the reason she’s so much more comfortable alone, by herself- because it’s her comfort zone. When she’s put in a position where she can’t just hide and wait for the fighting to be over, her Noble instincts take over.
Let’s keep moving, I instruct my team, switching back to the brainband. Both of them nod, and we slip back into formation seamlessly, the two of them once again following my lead as I take us towards the nearest exit.
After a short walk through a cylindrical hallway, we enter a room that resembles a cathedral- not that I’ve ever been inside of one before, of course. My experience with the concept is based purely off of pictures people took of religious sites on Warlord-era worlds, before they were torn down or repurposed by Imperium forces. While the Emperor’s anti-religion stance was hard-line, he did recognize the value in the architecture and art produced by those superstitions, and allowed much of it to remain, if only as an artifact of a darker time in history.
While this room obviously isn’t a real cathedral, it does share some similarities with one, mainly in the way it was clearly designed to evoke a sense of awe and grandeur. The sweeping arches and nearly ceiling-high statues do convey a certain level of majesty, even with a layer of dust covering everything.
Towards the middle of the room is a circular dais, with a device of some sort emerging from its center, resembling a pillar with a mushroom-like cap on top of it. The pillar has a number of sockets on it, which look like they’re meant for a human hand to be inserted into, up to the forearm. The purpose of the device isn’t exactly clear to me, but as I look around more- most of my mind occupied with searching for signs that we might have just walked into an ambush -the real purpose of the room becomes clear. It’s not a cathedral, it’s an agora.
Around the central stone platform are several wide slices of what was once greenery, now yellowed, dead grass, dotted with rocks, with several benches and tables around them as well. This was a public meeting place, an open-air intellectual salon, but underground. The Citadel has plenty of them, similar to parks, but meant specifically for large communal activities like lectures or debate forums. It stands to reason the Subterrane would have one as well. The device in the center probably relates to that purpose somehow- maybe it’s meant to register votes on a topic, with the arm-slots functioning as a way to verify that only one person votes at a time. Or it’s some kind of weird sex thing.
Before I can ruminate any further on that, I hear shots. Not exactly the sharp gunpowder cracks of an ordinary weapon, but the slightly muted sound of a stun gun firing. Still, in the Subterrane, the sound echoes unmistakably through another hallway that leads into this agora. Without needing to be told, Valent and Kat rush for cover, just as I do the same, and not a moment too soon.
Accompanying the sound of stun guns firing come footsteps, as one of the fireteams in the engagement starts to come closer towards us. It’s not a slow, cautious approach like what Sofie and Ada made, but rather a tactical retreat, meaning whoever is driving them back has unwittingly set us up for a perfect pincer maneuver.
Ibrahim appears first, sprinting into the room without looking, head craned over his shoulder as he fires off at whoever is pursuing him. Ducking behind a rock, he frantically scans the room, breathing heavily, not noticing my fireteam’s presence. A few seconds later, Bret makes himself known, running down the hallway shouting.
“Colleen’s down! They got her, they got--”
Before he can finish his sentence, he stumbles over his own feet, and hits the ground face-first. Two stun-gun shots ring out, and he shrieks in pain before falling silent. Peering out from my hiding place, I see the face of his attacker for only a second, before Nikitha throws something from her belt into the room, a smoke cloud blooming into the air the moment it hits the ground. It’s Mars’ fireteam, all three of them seemingly still on their feet.
Stick to cover for now, I instruct my team. Let ‘em take each other out.
A voice cuts through the silence, though I can’t quite pinpoint its source in the smoke billowing through the room, thick enough that I can barely see more than six feet in front of me. It’s Mars.
“Zaman, you’re not going to take all three of us out by yourself. Just hand over your token and your gun, you don’t need to get shot over this.”
Something tells me Mars isn’t exactly expecting Ibrahim to take him up on that offer- if anything, it’s bait to try and get a response out of him, so they’ll have an easier time of locating him within the smoke. While I didn’t exactly prohibit bringing in outside equipment for this exercise, it does feel a bit like cheating, and makes me wish I’d done something similar.
Neither of you have anything on-hand that might help here, do you? I ask my team. Kat responds nonverbally in the negative, but Valent is silent for a moment, indicating he might have something to offer.
I could provide an auditory distraction if necessary, he says eventually. Simply give the order.
Giving him a mental nod of acknowledgement, I take a breath, opening my ears to listen for any hints of movement. Ibrahim hasn’t taken the bait yet, but it sounds like somebody is on the move, judging by the faint squeak of a boot on polished stone. The room we’re in might be large, but it’s also an underground cavern, meaning there isn’t much space for the smoke to go- it’s not going to fully disperse anytime soon. In other words, if I go in, I’m going in blind.
Vee, give me a count of ten, then do it.
Understood.
Creeping forward, I ready my stun-gun, heading towards the source of the sound. Wary of being spotted, I keep my head low and move slowly. Whoever I’m following isn’t doing a very good job of masking their presence, suggesting it’s someone for whom combat isn’t a specialty.
In the back of my head, I can hear Valent’s countdown approaching zero, and hasten my approach. The silhouette of my target becomes visible, tall and lanky- Tai, it’s got to be. WIth two seconds to go, I lunge forward, wrapping my free hand around to cover his mouth, and pressing my stun-gun into his back, firing once, shifting the barrel, and then firing again to make sure he does down without a fight. At the same moment, a series of firecracker-like explosions go off, completely drowning out the sound of my weapon firing.
Rather than grab Tai’s token, I let his unconscious body slump to the floor and head back the way I came. Taking the time to go through his pockets now would just leave me exposed for longer than I need to be, while I’ll have plenty of time to take his token later, assuming I make it through this encounter.
Halfway back to my hiding spot, though, I hear more stun-gun shots. Not anywhere near me, but I still hit the deck reflexively. Reaching out on the brainband, I try to ping Valent and Kat, and only get a response back from the latter. Guess that means I know who just got taken out.
Someone’s coming towards me, Kat informs me nervously. What should I do?
Your choice, I reply, staying on the ground and slowly crawling towards cover. Take them out if you think you can, or make a break for it.
Before Kat can respond, I cut off the connection. We’re in it now, and I can’t focus on trying to avoid getting shot while giving her a pep talk at the same time. Besides, she needs a trial by fire, and better that it happen now than during the War Games.
No sooner have I made it back to cover do several more stun-gun shots ring out, too many at once to be anything other than distinct, overlapping discharges. A long silence follows, and I stand slowly, searching for any signs of life. The smoke has cleared enough for me to see most of the room, and my eyes immediately fall on the only other person visible. Mars, standing over Ibrahim’s unconscious body, the barrel of his stun-gun still smoking.
The warrior senses my eyes on his back and turns, arm moving smoothly to raise his weapon and fire. I do the same, maybe a half-second faster, but it makes no difference. Each of us gets a shot off, and as I feel his stun round strike me in the chest, I see mine do the same to him. A moment later, a current surges through my body, and all I see is darkness.
----------------------------------------
Being shocked unconscious is, not shockingly, unpleasant. This was my first time, and I can’t say I’m eager to repeat the experience. Even waking up from my little involuntary nap is unpleasant- there’s a tingling feeling all across my body, as if there’s still a lingering charge in my nervous system. Niko hands me a bottle of water, and I accept it gratefully, before slowly starting to take in my surroundings.
I’m still in the same room where the firefight went down, along with most of the rest of the unit. Mars is already back on his feet, though leaning against a pillar for support, while I don’t quite feel well enough to stand yet. Ada’s helping Nikitha back to her feet, and I see Ibrahim assisting Bret, though he swiftly moves forth to check on Colleen once the engineer is on his feet.
“Who won?” I ask Niko, noting the fact that the other members of my fireteam don’t seem to be present.
“I did,” he replies laconically, the ghost of a grin on his lips. When it becomes clear based on my expression that I want more of an answer than that, he sighs in defeat. “Your girl Kat was the only one who walked out of here. Found somewhere to hole up, gave my team the slip for a while, but we caught up with her eventually. Managed to take out Amalia and Grant before I took her down, though.”
“Did she really?” I ask, surprised.
“Yep. Damn impressive, actually. She’s still out cold, pretty sure Valent went off to look after her.”
“Okay, good. Is everybody else up?” Niko nods, and offers me a hand when I move to get up. Accepting it gratefully, I struggle to my feet, still unsteady, and brace myself against a wall for a few moments until I’m certain I won’t fall right back down when I let go. “Great. I’m gonna send out a message, then.”
Listen up, people.
Every head in the room turns my way, but I’m too fried to even muster any embarrassment.
You put in a good effort there. Hopefully the teams we picked out worked well for you. If not, you’ve got ‘til the end of the day tomorrow to let me know, and I’ll see if we can make some changes. No promises, though. Other than that, take a fifteen minute break… then it’s back to training.