When Codi walked into the Brax-Delta coaching room, she couldn’t suppress a surge of awkwardness when she saw Vasco sitting waiting for her, alone. She hadn’t forgotten about her storming from the room, nor did she feel regret about the action. Her temper made her who she was. But with the revelation that the reigning Gauntlet champion was in her group, she needed him now.

“I hear you’ve been hiding in the training centre,” Vasco said, gesturing for her to take a seat.

“Seemed like the best place to go,” she returned.

“I take it you’ve looked at the groups?”

“Yeah.”

“Well?”

“I think I need to get practicing.”

He frowned. “Have you even been to sleep yet?”

“No.” Codi leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “Let’s just skip the part where you tell me what an unpredictable little psycho I am and just get on with figuring out a way to get through the groups in one piece.”

To her surprise, he started laughing. “Some things never change. I guess what’s done is done. Now, are you going to sit there and listen this time? I could do without my top fighter storming out of the room again.”

Her eyes widened. “What…what did you say?”

“You heard me.” He nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re all punching above your weight, but you’ve got potential to do a helluva lot more than that. If you’ll let me I can help you do it. But for once in your life bottle up your temper and listen.”

Codi’s mouth opened and closed like a fish but words didn’t come. All through the entire ordeal of joining the Gauntlet she’d wanted acknowledgment, encouragement; recognition that she was doing something right. And just like that, Vasco had delivered. My top fighter. The words sounded perfect in her head. So she relaxed back into her seat and did something she didn’t think she was capable of.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.” She held Vasco’s gaze with every word. “I was out of line.”

Now it was his turn to look surprised. He gathered himself quickly, however, and his mouth hardened into a determined line. “Then let’s get down to business.” He turned to the screen and pressed a button, causing images of the three fighters in her group to appear.

“I asked you in first because you landed the hardest group draw. You’re going to need every last second to get ready. Now I know you want to go out there and give everything you’ve got in every fight, but it’s not worth it yet. Varlin’s still out of your league – and everybody else’s for that matter.” The glimmer of a smile hovered around his lips. “But you only need to win two out of three to make it through to the knock-out rounds.” With another button push Varlin’s picture disappeared. “So for the moment we’ll focus on these two. Know anything about them?”

Codi shook her head, and also made a decision not to mention her run in with Varlin in the cafeteria. Right now she was on stable ground with Vasco, but she had no doubt that if he found out about her altercation he’d blow a metaphorical gasket.

“It’s just as well you’re not the only one who missed sleep last night,” he chuckled. “I’ve been doing my homework.”

For the next hour Vasco walked her through the two other fighters in her group, through their background, preferred styles, strengths, weaknesses, performance in the Mayhems, everything piece of information he’d managed to gather. The male, Yuri Drevok, seemed simple enough. He was a wrestler more than anything else, focusing largely on holds, grapples and throws. No physical powerhouse, he relied on strong technique, which had seen him through the Mayhem well enough. Vasco’s advice was simple: stay out of reach, don’t let him grab you, and make every hit you land count.

The girl presented more of a problem. Another Battlecast fighter, that alone made it clear she was no slouch in the arena, and she was also entering her third competitive year. Vasco talked about experience like it was a drug, and it was something all the fighters from Brax-Delta lacked.

The second thing that concerned Codi was the girl’s preferred fighting style. She specialised in something called Krav Maga, a brutal combat system originally developed in the militaries of the twentieth century. The discipline focused on finishing a fight as quickly and decisively as possible, aiming for the most vulnerable parts of the body. A playback from her Mayhem showed Cassandra Riven wiping out a potential adversary in a matter of seconds with no more than three perfectly timed and perfectly placed attacks.

“Bottom line,” Vasco said. “Don’t be aggressive with this kid. You misplace one punch and she’ll have you for breakfast. Use all that power-boxing you’ve gotten so good at and stay light, fast and hard.”

That sounded good to her. That was two down, roughly speaking. However, the prospect of fighting Varlin still lurked in the back of her mind and she knew that neither she nor Vasco could ignore it. So when their examination of the other fighters’ styles dwindled, she brought it up.

“Are we going to talk about Varlin?” she asked bluntly.

Vasco sighed. “Honestly, I’d hoped we’d be able to avoid him for as long as possible.”

“We can’t hide forever. Sooner or later someone’s going to have to take him on.” She drummed her fingers against the desk and frowned as a thought occurred to her. “Seems to me like he wins his fights because everyone’s expecting him to. Everyone’s afraid of him, including you. Nobody fights him to win. They fight to survive.”

“Look, Codi, I just want you to get through the group stages in one piece.”

“It’s a one on one. I can’t just hide this time, and I don’t want to. Someone needs to let Varlin know that he’s not invincible.”

“That’s a point of view that will take some proving.” Vasco rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I get what you’re saying, but the group stage isn’t the time to try and take down the defending champion. Varlin is your last fight. Win the first two and then we’ll worry about getting you into the knock-out without any broken bones.” He gestured to the door. “Now go find Max. If there’s a downside to all of you making it through it’s that I’m going to be stuck in this damn closet for the entire day.”

***

One by one the members of Brax-Delta made their way down to the training centre, each of them carrying a fresh new burden of fighting tactics to burn into muscle memory before the group stage fights started in two days time. However, they were far from alone now. Virtually every other fighting who’d made it through filled up the cavernous space of the training arena, and more often than not they were joined by team mates who had failed to qualify, but nonetheless remained to aid their comrades in training.

The sparring the group undertook now was very different. No longer could they simply lay into each other with whatever style they saw fit. Each time they sparred one fighter could try their best to emulate the style of an enemy. Currently Codi worked with Lucas, her team mate doing his best to punish her if she got close enough for a wrestling grab.

So far things were about fifty-fifty. Codi did her best to dance around her team mate, landing hits and getting out before he could deliver a tackle, grab or throw in response. Training in full gear made the speed and intensity of the spars as close as they could be to the real thing. So when Lucas did manage to hook one of her legs and drive her into the ground Codi felt the full impact on her back.

“Get that leg out of the way,” Max commented, standing off to one side and observing. “And get low when you withdraw.”

Shoving herself upright, Codi didn’t look at him but gave a thumb-up with one hand to show her understanding. They reset, and with the next exchange she managed to land a solid right jab on Lucas’s jaw and leap back out of reach to avoid his counter. They drilled for fifteen minute blocks before rotating Max in, owing to the odd number of fighters.

Standing watching the others, Codi’s gaze wandered around the room, taking in the massed ranks of other competitors. She could see the odd individual she recognised; even from across the room Dustin Morto’s towering bulk was unmistakable. Varlin, presumably, was in one of the other training centres as she couldn’t see him anywhere. However, she did spot a lone, forlorn figure in black and white armour, busily sparring against a motionless training dummy.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said and without waiting for a response she began navigating her way around the training groups until she reached her target.

“Kye?”

He stopped smacking the training dummy and turned to face her. He was fully geared save for the head brace which lay on the floor a few feet away. His grin flashed again.

“Hey.” He tipped an imaginary hat to her. “Training hard?”

“Why are you on your own?” she asked, ignoring his question.

Kye shifted his feet awkwardly. “I’m the only one through.”

“Aren’t any of your team helping you out?!”

“Nah, they got sent home.”

“Already?” Codi could barely believe her ears. “How is that fair to you?”

“Strictly speaking, I’d say it wasn’t,” Kye laughed. “But there are three other Earth academies competing. They’re not going to waste more time and effort on Zulu Forge.”

“So you just get hung out to dry? That’s ridiculous.”

“My coach is still here.”

“Not right this second he’s not.” She shook her head irately and grabbed him by the arm. “C’mon, there are five of us. We could do with an extra body.”

Even as he let himself be led, Kye gave her a dubious look. “You sure about this?”

“Of course I am. Everyone deserves a decent shot. And you’re not going to get ready by punching that thing all day.” She took him back over to the area the Brax-Delta team had laid claim to, and the others paused their training to give her a universal look of confusion. Codi glared back. “What?”

“Codi, we’re meant to be training our team,” Lita said.

“We could use another sparring partner and he’s by himself,” she snapped back. “I’m not asking you to kiss him.” Then looked at Max, beckoning him over. “Come here.”

He stepped forward obediently, his features still perplexed.

Codi glanced to Kye. “You’re fighting Dustin Morto, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Max here is the tallest person we’ve got. He can give you a hand.” She met Max’s gaze. “Unless you’ve got a problem with that.”

Her team mate shrugged. “Not at all.” A few awkward seconds drifted by until the group returned to their training regimens. Codi swapped with Lucas, taking on the roll of an aggressive fighter in his group. She made him defend hard, coming in fast and not letting up. Her stocky companion held up well, his naturally sturdy frame holding him in good stead even when she did manage to land body shots.

So the hours of training slid by. The six of them rotated around in pairs, and gradually the other members of Brax-Delta got used to Kye’s presence, appreciating the presence of a sixth body which meant no-one had to sit out. When they broke for their evening meal Codi certainly felt ready to take on her first opponent. As the fighters made their way out of the training arena, Kye pulled up alongside her.

“Codi,” he said, leaning in close. “Just wanted to say, thanks for letting me train with you guys. A lot of people would be happy to let me stew.”

She gave him a playful dig in the ribs. “I owed you one.”

“I explained about that.”

“Nobody should be abandoned like that,” she said. “You’d think that being the only one to go through would show you’re worth backing up.”

His face creased into a warm smile. “Well, looks like I found back up somewhere else.”