"Why should we, long-term visitors of the Center, cater to you? A vagabond who'd only just arrived." A voice suddenly called out. Loud, arrogant and ostensibly obnoxious. So much so that Jordan hadn't even needed to avert his gaze to rule out the source.

"If we duel, I might kill you by accident." Jordan shrugged. Making sure to bring his gilded fingers to shoulder height as he splayed his hands outward to either side of his shoulders.

There was a short moment of silence as Biff Gaston drifted into place from behind Jordan. Skimming overhead, inverted. His azure eyes glaring sternly from under a shelf-thick brow. "I'm indifferent to you looking down on us," he said. "But don't underestimate us, Jordan Astros."

"Hard not to." Jordan snorted out a laugh. "With your refusal to to accept my challenge."

"And I would say the same about you. Considering your disregard for another's culture, rules, traditions or etiquette." Biff quickly retorted. "This has been a longstanding tradition in Talos' Community Center. Established when the first generation of Ganymedeans ventured into these chambers to duel. Your disrespect for it, means I don't respect you."

Jordan only nodded in acknowledgement. "Fair point. Naturally, the proclaimed strongest who lives on their self-molded plateau would feel that way. You're far from a rookie, after all. And you've been the Ace for how long?"

"Two-hundred-forty-six days." Biff proudly replied.

"Going for an entire month, then?" Jordan wondered out loud as he studied the red orbit floating above Biff's shoulder. The number '857' shining proudly beside it. "Aiming for some sort of perk?"

"It's a gamble. But." Biff grinned along with a shrug before nodding. "Yes."

"And how many people have you duelled since ? Campaigned?" Jordan asked in turn. "A great many, one would assume. I however, think it's at most, below ten and zero respectively."

"Simple assumptions of a simple mind." Biff huffed. Much to Jordan's displeasure. It seemed that no matter what he said, Jordan couldn't get under Biff's skin. And worse, he always had to one-up him in words.

Despite his apparent hostility, Jordan had no particular feelings about the acclaimed 'strongest of Talos.' Contrary to Zoltan's fairly inaccurate description, Biff wasn't a bully. But a tool. A tool that was hyped on misplaced pride; and that'd allow him to test the results of his extensive training in earnest.

And so, Jordan probed and poked and pestered. Did everything in his still limited skillset to invoke Biff to campaign.

"You know." Jordan snorted. "Some would say you're squatting. Especially since you don't even know if you'll get one. What if the percentage is abysmal?" He laughed. "Then it'd be a waste of time."

"According only to you, Jordan." Biff snided back. "Five percent of one-thousand, is still fifty. A not-insignificant difference from zero. Wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah." Jordan nodded in apparently slow comprehension before he met Biff's eyes with a determined gaze. "And how much a perk percentage do you think I'd get for slaying a Saturnian Knight?"

Biff immediately rolled his neck with laughter. "You'd be slain on contact!"

"I already have." Jordan coldly replied. "Twice. And I'll challenge her again. Most likely, I will die. Again. But then I'll challenge her again. And again and again. Until I slay her. I've been training for it. And will continue to do so until it's a reality.

"Ah." Biff nodded as he turned on his magnetized heels. "So you see us as mere training dummies?"

"Such things are hardly worth wasting energy over." Jordan grinned amiably. "Being a Galilean, you should be eager as I am to accept the challenge. We all know Lee won't-"

"ENOUGH!" A piercing voice split the room in an instant. Erupting from behind Biff with enough intensity to send a visible wave of shock through the crowd.

As a result of the moment of silence thrust upon the Center's main multipurpose bay, the audible thump of heels striking the floor resounded like a gunshot. Pulling all eyes that weren't already focused in her direction towards the Queen of Talos, as she leapt across the habitat like a human-sized rocket bound for impact between and off to the side of the two arguing parties.

With a thunderous boom that was equally louder than her shout, her mag-boots caught against the surface. Pulling her seemingly thin legs into a low squat that quickly absorbed momentum. Her steel gaze never moving from the pair as she recovered and approached.

On first glance, she looked curiously like Biff. By the eyes, at least. Vibrant and blue like the deep lakes of Choece. Held within a sharp cheeked, cleft chinned face. Her hair and skin however, were tanned a deep red like the clays imported from Earth.

Jordan returned his gaze to Biff as he continued, as if uninterrupted. "We all know Lee won't accept."

"I said enough!" Jade groaned. Stomping forward to stand between the two.

Jordan turned his body to face her before bowing at the waist. "Yes, your majesty." He derided in his best impersonation of Law. "I only wish to challenge Talos' strongest."

"And you will. If you all stop bickering and agree to my preposition." Jade declared, as if she were uncaring to Jordan's mocks.

Jordan only eyed her impatiently through his peripherals as he sneered. "And that is?"

"Defeat me in a duel. Win, and the rest of the court; as well as everyone else here will accept your call to campaign."

"And if you win?" Jordan asked. Seemingly unimpressed with her offer.

"Then you must give up your title and leave Talos for good." She coldly stated.

"You can take the damn title." Jordan snorted before gesturing across from him with his chin. "And there's no way he'll agree to it."

"He will." Jade assured him with an exaggerated nod. "Queen's right. And without your title, you can't openly climb the ladder."

'This is so fucking stupid.' Jordan rolled his eyes before turning to her with a groan. "Fine. Whatever. Let's get this over with."

Assuming from both her actions and what Zoltan had told him earlier, Jordan was sure Jade intended to use him as a stepping stone of some sort. If he were to guess, she intended to lose against Jordan and use the hype of the crowd to almost force Biff into accepting Jordan's conditions. regardless of the campaign's outcome, she'd be there to challenge the next Ace. Thereby resetting the hierarchy and getting closer to her goal of reformation.

And if she won, she'd just do the same in Jordan's place. Suredly a win-win scenario.

After all, it's what Vera would do.

Her apparently gracious deal was all the proof Jordan needed. Bait meant to entice him into eagerly accepting her conditions. Regardless of his intuition however, the still very primitive parts of his subconscious held serious doubts that Jade would be willing to throw a duel she'd initiated in order to achieve those aims.

A real Galilean's pride wouldn't allow it.

So, Jordan decided that he'd do himself a favor and remove the possibility of her interfering in their real duel.

As soon as they were settled, Jade darted forward with a flurry of uppercuts and punches that almost melded into a blur from the rapidity of her strikes. Jordan toiled to either parry or block the strikes with his fists and elbows; getting tagged more than a few times during the rapid exchange, before reaching out with an underhanded palm to grasp her oncoming fist tightly.

Along with a strong pull, Jordan threw out a front kick that landed square in Jade's hips the moment she stepped forth to right her balance. With the consequent release of her wrist, she was sent fumbling backwards over the floor. Comically cartwheeling and rolling over the ground and into the ring of bodies that sent her rebounding right back into the ring.

She quickly resettled into her guard not even a moment later and began her approach. Glancing almost nervously at Jordan's hands with each shallow step.

As for Jordan himself, he remained in a neutral guard. His arms high to cover his face while he remained in place. Neither approaching nor backpedaling as he watched his opponent maneuver in front of him. Barely clamped into place by his mag-boots; reduced to nearly their lowest setting in order to crudely mimic Ganymede's abysmal gravity.

Jade steadily assaulted Jordan with kicks, punches and even a couple throw attempts throughout the course of their duel. Jordan, while steadily getting tagged across his body, focused his mind against the seemingly distant pain in order to concentrate on parrying her blows insteading striking her directly. Jabs were countered with jabs to the fists. Hooks with straight punches to the bicep. Uppercuts with hammerfists to the knuckles. Blow for blow, limb for limb for the entirety of the relatively short engagement. Up until the moment Jade's speed proved to be too much for Jordan. And he'd begin working back to drive them apart.

Sometimes in vain.

As the duel progressed, the damage accumulating within Jordan's body steadily rose. As did Jade's apparent willingness to throw herself at Jordan in contest. With the latter's refusal to approach or go on the offensive. Her mounting frustrations quickly became apparent.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Despite the vicious snarl, slightly disturbed breathing and other signs of visible rage emanating from her, Jade remained in astute control of her actions as she carefully; cautiously, Probed at Jordan's defenses.

Contrarily, Jordan was practically high on elation. Over the last eighteen weeks, whenever he wasn't drilling or sparring against Gelos, he'd spent the majority of his time fighting for his proverbial life against the various shadow soldiers formed through his databases of various fighting profiles. Gelos, Arthur, the Field Marshal Quinn Law and even himself were pitted against him in augmented reality. Sometimes one-on-one. Or all at once.

In the last few weeks, he'd even compiled all of the data together into an amalgamation of a being he had no possible chance of beating. An experience that made these petty duels seem like slap fights among toddlers.

As such, he couldn't help but laugh out loud from the apparent results of their arduous training.

A laugh that seemed to be breaking point of Jade's rage.

She flung herself forward in an instant. Allowing Jordan to casually sidestep her. Pivot on his heel and drive his fist right into her ribs. Jordan focused as he followed through. Steadily, as to not nigh-subconsciously trigger the pistons held in each of his knuckles; a technique he'd strenuously strived to perfect over the course of his training.

Only for it to end up being consciously repressed.

The irony bit against Jordan's prior satisfaction as he watched Jade drift into and past the crowd. As they molded back around her, Jordan caught a glimpse of a dancing tail of hair moving amongst the crowd. A frustrated visage at its base recovering from hasty retreat that only soured Jordan's mood further.

"Let's go." Jordan snarled to Lee. Gesturing towards the exit with his chin.

Predictably, Lee resorted to stammering awkwardly as he floated in place, looking around the crowd. Most likely for Biff.

"Let me guess." Jordan groaned. "You never agreed to Jade's conditions. Did you, Lee?"

"I heard you use a spear?" Biff contemptuously called from Jordan's side. All but rescuing Lee from embarrassment. Again. "How… neolithic," he said after a moment's pause.

"A spear unlike any you've ever seen." Jordan grinned wide. Turning to him. "Besides, you use a fucking bat. That's the modern day version of a club. Troglodyte."

"Hmpf." Biff waved his hands before him as if to seamlessly pass the conversation on to the next topic. "As Ace," he so pretentiously said. "I determine the conditions. But, I'll allow you to determine the when of our bout."

"Right now," Jordan curtly replied. Gestured around them with his hands before ending as he curtly replied. "You, me, and anyone else who wants to campaign. Just as Jade said."

Biff only smiled as he raised his arm to chest height in a gesture towards the door. "After you."

Once out of the Center, it was a short ride from the axial module that was the void city of Talos to the habitat's hangars at the end caps. Jordan, Gelos and Zoltan amiably drifted through the corridors between Biff, a shaky Lee, and a few others; and Jade and her relatively modest mob of people behind them. Maybe around half a dozen or so. if Jordan were to count.

Jordan couldn't help but continue gazing behind them as they travelled. Not only at Jade, who was gently rubbing her arms all over; the anger and fire still brimming in her eyes as she vacantly stared forward. But at the other Ganymedeans. Once docile and perpetually on the sidelines, now burning with as much rage and excitement as the queen.

'So many scavengers.' Jordan chuckled to himself.

Moving into the hangars, most of the denizens of Talos separated to the private facilities to change into their vac-suits, including Gelos and Zoltan. Relegating Jordan to wander around aimlessly after double checking his small rucksack until he fell into shuttle in wait.

After a few minutes, Lee drifted in. With Jade and her party following shortly thereafter. Jordan's attempts to ignore them were rendered moot after a double take at the gauntlets shrouded around Lee's arms. Like a knight's armor. But more crude and fashioned with large nail-like blades at the end of the digits.

Jade on the other hand, had emerald-colored plating along the more exposed part of her suit that was prominently thick around knuckles, elbows and knees. Almost as if it were placed on after the fact. Triggering Jordan's fascination and causing him to commit the suit to memory.

Averting his gaze to not cause a scene, Jordan's eyes moved to the airlock Just as Zoltan and Gelos pulled themselves into the shuttle. Their plain, mundane suits assaulting Jordan's eyes like bland food would his tongue.

Jordan could only groan in exasperation to himself as they secured themselves next to him. Where they leached their lack of style onto him. 'He really needs a new suit.'

***

[December 106th, GPY 2. Safe Zone XII. Lagamal Crater, Ganymede. 64.2°N 115.6°E. 1246. UGT]

After landing, the dozen or so occupants huddled around the airlock to check each other's seals and receive a frequency from Lee to chat amongst the group. After filing out into the void, the party paused so that Jordan and the others could retrieve their weapons and cargo before moving to the safe zones. Hopping in a loose file behind Biff and his unsettling helmet towards the launch pads.

While the body of his suit was of the typical industrial, Ganymede fashion. His helmet featured a tri-faced bust of some ancient hominid. The likes of which seemed to stare at Jordan throughout their short journey. Regardless of the angle or distance between them.

"We'll do one-on-one duels first." Biff's voice scratched across the radio after they deployed. Ruining Jordan's moment of peaceful isolation. "Lee versus the Martian." He declared.

"That doesn't make any sense." Jordan scoffed. "He's not even apart of your house."

"You said it yourself, Jordan." Biff scratched across the radio. "There are no rules."

'True.' Jordan frowned and nodded to himself before switching to their private channel and turning to Gelos. "Well?"

Before Jordan had even turned, Gelos had wordlessly stepped up. His gladius glimmering in the light as it soundlessly twirled about in his hand before he lunged towards the lanky Ganymedean.

Jordan saw a glint of light just as Lee twitched. Triggering him to enhance his vision to the point of impact. The magnified field of view lurched disorientingly as Lee was forced backwards across the surface from Gelos' attack. His tapered blade clawed tightly in Lee's gauntlets. Which lurched as the latter lunged forth with his free hand in search of Gelos' neck.

Gelos appeared to 'trip' backwards in tune with Lee's lunge. Causing him to rotate beneath him, where he kicked upwards with both feet held together. Planting both of his heels into wherever he could on Lee's body and imparting a dizzying rotation on the two.

Upon release, Gelos was flung into the sky while Lee was sent to gently lithobrake across the surface. Both of their maneuvering thrusters firing rapidly to kill their rotation and right themselves.

After his frustratingly slow return to the surface, Gelos remained inverted relative to Lee while he thrusted outward with the blade in a meek attempt to ward off his opponent. Instead of dodging, the latter simply reached forth again. Gripping the blade between his sharpened fingers before slinging Gelos down towards the ground. Making himself ascend in return.

"I thought you said he was weak?" Jordan privately snorted over the radio.

"I said soft." Zoltan sternly replied. "Just wait until G hits him one good time."

'G?' Jordan shook his head in confusion inside his helmet while he continued to watch.

Surely, after rebounding, Gelos was once again inverted in the sky before Lee. Unflinchingly absorbing his feral scratches and using his punches as a maneuvering platform to right himself, swinging the short sword around and downwards as his body cartwheeled and digging the edge of the blade between Lee's ribs.

Jordan instantly knew as soon as he saw it. How Lee anticipated the pain. Recoiled against the impact and fought against the force, even as it blew him backwards and out of range where he squirmed around until Gelos' approach. When he briskly hopped up to cautiously dance about out of Gelos range. Slowly circling their imaginary ring.

He'd seen on multiple occasions, from many of his siblings- an innate talent for fighting; coupled with a severe disdain for it.

However, Lee's case was worse. From what Jordan could see, his pain tolerance was severely low. Far past the point that made him wonder if he even had armor at all. Worse, he was clearly displaying fear of it.

Now bored with Gelos' assured victory, Jordan turned his body to face Zoltan before gesturing to the small crowd of people scattered around them. "Hope you find someone to fight."

With those last words, Jordan disconnected from their chat before gripping the spear tightly in both hands and lunging towards Biff.

With his right hand near the pommel, Jordan kicked hard against the ice while twisting his hips to impart a spin on himself. With his forward hand off the haft, Jordan extended his right arm. Swinging the spear around in a deadly arc towards Biff's neck.

Seamlessly, the Ace of Talos aptly ducked. Allowing the spear to pass cleanly above the crown of his helmet and exposing Jordan's flank to attack.

Following the rotation. Jordan raised his arm, guiding the spear overhead as he spun round once more to face Biff. Leaning into his hips even as the glimmering speartip plunged towards his body.

In a split decision against pulling his blows. Jordan could only brace his mind for impact as his body continued to follow through with its attack. Primally relishing in the sensation of shifting bones and a body breaking under the influence of its blows. All while completely disregarding the upcoming punishment of having an unguarded area.

Jordan's torso seemed to quake and reverberate from the blunt force of Biff's swing. Noticeably shifting his ribs around each other and painfully compressing his organs in the instant before they were blown apart from the impact. A violently irregular rotation being imparted on Jordan that gruesomely lost its energy as he was pelted against the surface.

Jordan continued cartwheeling over the ice, far out of Biff's range. Gasping into his helmet as his thrusters fought to kill his rotation. With Biff on approach and his grip still around the pommel, Jordan readied himself in a low position. His weight on his rear foot as he held the spear in both hands. Focusing on Biff steadily approaching into range.

Jordan waited until Biff's inevitable brake against the surface before throwing out a triage of probing thrusts. Causing Biff to stagger in hesitation, mid-drift before Jordan leapt forward. His hand on the hilt as he thrusted down towards Biff's neck.

Despite his hesitation, Biff quickly raised his bat in an attempt to block the spear. Causing the blade to shear across the the slightly dented weapon. Carving a deep gash into the curved steel before plunging beneath the frowned and wrinkled visage of Biff's helmet. Contouring his neck and body against the blade before being slung back into the icy rock with a silent crash.

As, and even after he recovered, Biff; apparently blindly, held his bat at the ready with one hand while he clutched at his neck with the other. Jordan wheeled the spear back around with his rotation. Bringing it overhead before sending it plummeting towards the stony helm.

Biff quickly crouched low in response. Kicking off the ground in the process to drift gracefully to the side, out danger. Before kicking away. All with his neck still in a gentle embrace. The faint droplets of frozen blood suspended around him and where he'd been like a diffuse mist. Dancing. Glistening in the faint sun or subliming on his suit.

He continued to stay out of range. Bounding backwards every time Jordan approached forward for around a quarter of a minute until the respirocytes closed up his wounds.

And without pause, he released his grip from his neck to lazily toss his bat to his now freer hand; flinging a small cloud of red snowflakes around him before he assumed the approach.

Still just under ten meters away, Jordan quickly picked up a nearby rock and flung it at the bounding Biff. The icy stone stumbled lazily as it darted through the void. Traveling in a blur before soundlessly shattering to dust on Biff's sternum. Noticeably slowing his momentum and giving Jordan the distraction he needed.

He tightly grasped the spear in both hands before lunging forth in a powerful thrust towards the icy target. Cancelling and redirecting Biff's momentum upon impact with his bowels.

Without hesitation, Jordan began reaching through the probes and thumps of Biff's bat to clench the collar of his suit. Pushing on the haft of the spear after finding purchase, Jordan ignored the clangs and clatters constantly clamoring within his helmet as he temporarily released the spear to cock his arm overhead and tugging violently on Biff's collar. Accelerating the wrinkled visage of his helmet towards Jordan's plummeting joint.

Exposed from the sudden lurch, The dense glob of dark, frozen blood leaking from the neck of Biff's suit shattered in the instant Jordan's elbow came into contact with it. Sending reverberations of deep, wet crunches that felt like cracks, running through Jordan's arm before the two of them were queasily cartwheeled forward.

After prying the spear free and kicking himself free from Biff, Jordan bounced to a gentle halt over the ice and quickly scanned his surroundings. Throughout the course of their engagements, they'd drifted a fair ways from those they came with. Around sixty meters away to their east, Gelos was chasing an aggressively evasive Lee in a graceful dance around the silent riot going underway.

After a final glance at Biff, toiling on the ice with his hands once again clenched around his neck, Jordan lunged towards the ensemble of combatants. Elated and eager to continue his test.