The lecture hall was enormous. Codi sat, dwarfed by the cavernous space along with the other hundred and fifty Battlecast recruits. The wall she currently faced had a screen twelve metres across built into it. Behind her the whole structure sloped in an arc towards the flat surface, as though they sat inside a quarter of a sphere. Level after level of chairs rose back away from the screen, packed from end to end with eager young fighters.

Codi had found herself a spot between Chris and Leela in the general scramble for seats. Gareth was a few rows forward and she regarded him coldly. His interview hadn't exactly been inspiring. Several of the Battlecast veterans towed the line – when asked about Codi they gave their unequivocal support and backed the academy's decision to sign her. All of them except Gareth.

She didn't know if the others had been told what to say in the interviews, but if they had, Gareth had ignored that advice. While he restrained himself from actively condemning her, the best he'd been able to muster when the reporters approached the topic was that she deserved a chance to compete, just not at the expense of others who had already earned their spots.

It felt like a betrayal. She'd thought they were past this. She didn't need him to like her – that was never the problem – but she deserved his respect. Not only that, but in the bigger picture his actions signalled to the people outside the academy bubble that all was not well at Battlecast.

The massive screen blinked into life suddenly, pulling her thoughts back to the present. She pushed Gareth's foolish actions out of her mind and focused. Despite having competed in the Gauntlet last year, today she would be learned two very new disciplines. Having only ever competed in the single bouts, Codi knew virtually nothing about the team variations in the competition. Although not as massive in the public eye, they were viewed with equal importance by the big academies. They proved versatility, adaptability and confirmed an academy's status.

"Good afternoon," Bronagh Llewellyn thundered from the head of the room, her voice resonating as though coming from all directions. "Today the next leg of your training begins. Individual sparring will continue as normal but your schedules will extend by an hour each day to incorporate these new techniques."

A murmur of surprise swept through the fighters. Codi frowned. Their day was already a gruelling ten hour slog – adding an extra hour didn't seem particularly tactical.

"Did they do it this way last year?" she whispered to Chris from the side of her mouth.

He shook his boulder-like head slowly. "New instructor, new rules, I guess."

"Now I know your old taskmaster did not favour an extension of this sort," Bronagh continued undeterred. "But I believe last year's results were underwhelming for an academy of such stature. You are all capable of much more – of that I am in no doubt."

She said it like a compliment, but the proclamation made Codi uneasy. What was underwhelming about taking both first and third in the single bouts? Surely the other disciplines couldn't have been that far behind?

"You will continue to excel; continue to be exceptional." Bronagh stared pacing, hands clasped behind her back. "Last year we were fortunate enough to have Bruno Varlin in our ranks, an individual whose skill could carry this academy through the strongest challenges. Even then it was a close run thing." She stopped and looked pointedly at Codi.

Squirming under the head instructor's piercing gaze, Codi lowered her eyes. She could feel heads turning towards her; eyes locking on like laser-sights.

"I hope you all take my meaning clearly. There are no guarantees. We will be favourites again – of that there is no doubt. That means we have a duty to not just match, but surpass those expectations. There is no room for complacency. You will not win simply because you are from this academy."

That last part made sense to Codi. She remembered last year, the smug arrogance that seemed to hang around the Battlecast competitors like a radioactive cloud. They barely registered other fighters as competition. Could that be the reason for the change in management? she wondered. Perhaps the old instructor had let the academy's fame go to the students' heads.

"So," Bronagh declared. "The additional hour will be worked into your schedules and there will be no complaints. Each and every one of you is capable of doing so. Now, without further ado we will begin your induction into the team-based Gauntlet disciplines. We will begin with the largest, and most competitive – Capture the Flag."

The huge screen flashed and in the blink of an eye was displaying a computer generated mock up of a Gauntlet Capture the Flag arena. Codi recognised it dimly from a peripheral memory, back from the days when she used to try and watch the Gauntlet rather than compete. Much larger than any individual construct it had to accommodate ten fighters who would be knocking the bells out of each other. Long low barricades divided the court into three sections, but like any other Gauntlet construct, the arenas for Capture the Flag were subject to wild and varied changes.

"This is a team discipline that I am afraid Battlecast did not win last year – the only black mark on an otherwise impressive Gauntlet year." There was something approaching anger in the head instructor's voice as she forced out the words. "This is where much of our effort must be applied. Fighting prowess is not enough to win this event. Speed, continuity and a team who not only work well together, but trust one and other, all these things are necessary for victory in this event."

"Atlantic took it last year," Chris explained under his breath. "Our team only clocked up third."

"Not bad," Codi said.

"'Not bad' isn't good enough around here."

"For the benefit of our new arrivals," Bronagh said. "I will explain the foundations of this discipline. At bedrock it is as simple as it sounds – five fighters must work together in order to steal the enemy flag and return it to their base and vice versa. There is one tried and true strategy that has evolved over the years: get the other team's flag into the hands of your fastest sprinter and let them do the rest. In order to reach this goal, however, the team must be comprised of five individuals whose talents compliment each other. You must work as a unit to win."

As she spoke rows of arrows flashed up on either side of the display – five apiece. "There are various blocking tactics allowed but no weapons are permitted in this Gauntlet discipline aside from the flag itself. Your common team composition will consist of a flag carrier, two attackers and two defenders. Attackers accompany the carrier to secure the enemy flag. Defenders prevent the enemy from taking yours. All very simple, no?"

A rumble of assent passed through the ranks.

Bronagh smiled mischievously. "Well this year I intend for us to break this stalemate. We will not be playing by unwritten rules. This year Battlecast will be better. My challenge to each and every one of you is to work in your teams to come up with a stratagem – to outthink your opponents. That is what will win us this discipline."

Codi leaned forward, her interest now piqued. Bronagh continued talking explaining the finer rules of the Capture the Flag discipline and she drank in every word, typing clipped notes into her data slate. Not everyone in Battlecast's twenty-fighter unit would be taking part in every discipline, but she was under no illusions that her status meant she would be taking up the cudgels on every front.

The nature of the game was interesting as it almost universally discounted the bruising powerhouses like Chris O'Leary. It revolved around speed and surgical precision instead of sheer fighting strength. Being able to quickly remove an opponent as an obstacle was more important than being able to beat them into the ground for good.

A handful of example recordings from previous competitions were played to emphasise certain aspects of the head instructor's teachings. It quickly became apparent that a Capture the Flag bout could go one of two ways: it was either over in a matter of moments if one team successfully executed their game plan, or it descended into a frantic, scrambling melee to bundle the flag home any way possible.

Once the general principles of the Capture the Flag game were embedded their instructor didn't spend much more time on it. That was a discipline best learned by doing. Their theory moved abruptly on to the second team variant in the Gauntlet. Codi swiped a new page onto her data slate and headed it "2V2."

"This discipline," Bronagh exclaimed. "Is one in which we should aim to secure first, second and third. There are more than enough capable fighters here to make that a reality. And while it is true last year we secured first place, only one half of that pairing is at the academy this year. We will be rebuilding to defend that title."

"Half?" Codi asked Chris quietly.

He gave her a wry smile. "Bruno and Ripple paired up last year. They were unstoppable."

She nodded. "I can imagine."

"Now that Bruno's off to the seniors someone else needs to step up."

"You not chasing that job?" she enquired.

Chris smiled again but didn't reply.

Bronagh continued running them through the basics of the paired bouts. These were just as violent, possibly more so than the individual fights. They consisted of two opposing pairs attached together with gravity tethers that acted like elastic bands. Codi watched in amazement as replays of bouts involving Bruno and Ripple played out on the screen. The hulking male used his slender companion virtually like a whip, lashing her at the opposing pairs with vicious force.

She could see immediately that a good fighter pairing relied heavily on rhythm. It was about tuning in to each other's movements. Many pairs were like Bruno and Ripple – a striking blade anchored to a hulking rock. Each move flowed seamlessly into the next. Any pair that didn't have...harmony would fail.

"Now, in previous years we have assigned pairings based on instructor recommendation," Bronagh explained. "And while the recommendations still exist, I do not intend to enforce them unless I have to. I believe that the level of co-operation required for a pair to be effective in the tournament means that you, the fighters, should have the final say in your partner. It may not be who you think. Someone you like does not by extension make the right partner for Gauntlet combat. Think about what you will have to do and then consider who is the most capable of doing it with you."

Codi was already thinking. Chris's smile told her that it was all but certain he and Ripple would match up together, and she couldn't blame them. It was almost a natural evolution. Chris O'Leary was built like Bruno Varlin's younger brother. His building-like frame would provide just as effective an anchor as his predecessor.

It suited her anyway. Neither of the two veterans really clicked with her style. She had no intention of fastening herself to some burly guy to be spun around like a Codi-shaped lasso. Nor did she want to be matched with someone as surgically precise as Ripple. While she had the utmost respect for the way the other girl fought, she couldn't have been more different. Where Ripple danced, Codi trundled. Where Ripple sliced, Codi hacked. Where Ripple was art, Codi was mayhem.

She drummed her fingers against the desk as Bronagh continued on, trying to think of who she might effectively match with in a paired bout. Leela...possibly, but the girl was so inexperienced and lacking killer instinct that she didn't feel comfortable putting her tournament hopes on her shoulders. Besides, there was a better than even chance that Leela wouldn't even make the team. Who did that leave?

There were a handful of other names: Cassandra Riven, a vicious fighter who had the killer instinct. Codi discounted her on account of the bad blood they probably shared over their clash in last year's tournament. Jaxo Samas, a sturdily built second year fighter whose brawling style suited her. But she didn't know him; didn't feel like she could really ask him to place his hopes upon her.

Then another name popped up unbidden in her mind. Out of place and absurd – it gave her no help right now – but the only person she could honestly say she wanted to go through this trial with, would be Kye Recktor.

Kye Recktor: the boy she'd fought with, joined forces with and gone to war for a year ago. Now they had chemistry. Her heart lurched at the thought. Since the Battlecast season started she hadn't been able to get in touch with him at all. He'd taken up a coaching position at the Zulu Forge academy and the conflict of interests had not been overlooked in the aggressively thorough Battlecast contract she'd signed.

Damn, she wished he were here right now, smiling his mischievous smile, giving her that little boost of carefree confidence she sometimes longed for. She knew she would get to see him soon enough once the pre-season tournaments got underway, but right now at this early stage of training the Battlecast administrators had decreed in no uncertain terms that she couldn't fraternise with someone from a rival academy, not least another Earth-based outfit.

Regretfully she pushed Kye's cheerful face out of her mind's eye. She had to deal with the here and now. The lists kept unfolding in her head and she crossed every name off for one reason or another. Whether it was their attitude, their technique or their build every single person she considered didn't quite fit the bill.

Eventually, when she tallied up everything she was left with one unpalatable possibility. As much as she hated to admit it, there was only one person at the Battlecast academy who seemed to think and fight like her, one person who she could potentially make her style fit with.

One person who had that little volatile streak, just like her.

The lecture drew to a close. With a sigh of dread, Codi stood up and braced herself for the confrontation that was soon to come.