The Swrun standing in the door was the biggest one I have ever seen. He was even taller than Clint. His body was thick and corded with muscle. His tusks curved several inches up from his jaw, brilliant white and sharp. Several pale scars crisscrossed his face, one of them deep and red, passing by the right side of his mouth, tugging it up in a permanent half-smile. He was dressed in a blue uniform, tailored to his massive frame. The blue meant he was a member of the Rebellion.
Clint did not seem to care. He stepped forward, his face a thunderhead. Gem intercepted him before he could go more than a step. He put a hand to Clint’s chest and said, “Clint, wait. He’s with us.”
Clint looked down at Gem. In his eyes, I could see his reason fighting with his anger. He stood there, tense and ready to pounce, for a long moment. His body relaxed and he stepped back. “Alright. But I expect an explanation.”
“Since when do beings need an explanation to obey orders?” barked the Swrun. “I am a superior officer and I expect that those under me in the chain of command do not strike me without leave.”
I could see Clint stiffen at that, but he did not act on his hatred. I was grateful for that. It would not go well if he attacked a member of the Rebellion on our first day here. On the Swrun’s uniform were a number of insignia that meant he was a Sergeant Major. A rather high rank to be testing recruits, I thought, but I did not question further.
“Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to get in here?” the Swrun thundered. He backed into the large room and we followed. The room was circular with a wide patch of dirt in the middle of the floor. Standing around it were nine other beings, each looking more dangerous than the last. They were all dressed in the blue uniforms of the Rebellion and I assumed they were recruits just like us. The Swrun strode into the center of the dirt ring, every step a testament to the great strength he possessed, muscle rippling and jumping under his uniform.
“Quit looking like slack-jawed thenr and join the circle,” bellowed the Swrun. He seemed like a being who only spoke at one volume and that was deafening. Clint and I complied, stepping in between a Hryth and a Ghurk. Both looked tough and ready to fight. I guessed it would take me about thirty seconds to take them down.
“My name is Kra-ort de Erj. I will be your combat test today,” shouted the Swrun. “Some of you may have noticed that I look a great deal like the beings we are here to fight. It’s almost like we are the same species. But the Swrun Empire and the Swrun race are not the same thing.
“I am Swrun and I hate the Empire. It is the physical incarnation of everything wrong with this universe and it must be brought down. I know that better than all of you. I wager I hate the Empire more than the rest of you put together.”
Clint’s face twitched at that, but he did nothing. Kra-ort continued his monologue, seemingly without taking a breath.
“The Empire is a bunch of mean, brutal bastards who enjoy slavery and oppressing the weak. I dislike slavery and I only oppress those who deserve it.” His face said the eleven of us recruits fit that last category. “That is all you need to know about me. I will fight the Empire to my last breath and I’m here to make sure you can do the same.”
He paused for breath, his eyes glaring out at the eleven beings circled around him. “I am told that you eleven are the best we have taken in this week. I very much doubt that. You look like a stiff breeze could knock you over. I’m here to find the ones who can stand.
“This is what’s going to happen. One by one, each of you will face me in single combat, unarmed except for the weapons nature gave you. Should I judge you acceptable, you will be cleared for field work. None of you will be cleared. You will all go to basic training with the rest of the freshies.” He spat in the dirt, expressing his feelings on the subject.
“Who’s first?” he asked, a hard glint in his eye. He glanced down the line, eyeing each of us in turn. Several beings looked away from his gaze, some looked back then away. Only three met his eye. Clint glared back at Kra-ort, his eyes fire. A Kantim with the posture of a military man gazed back with a calm expression, his slit pupils unwavering. When it came my turn, I stared back, my eyes boring back into the Swrun’s with as much intensity as they bored into mine.
“You!” he boomed, pointing at one of the beings who had glanced away. He was tall for a Guen, reaching to my shoulder. Now, I noticed that was strange. Before B’honnes had pointed it out, I would never have noticed. The Guen looked like he had been in a few fights, with several healed cracks on his hard skin. He stepped out into the dirt ring and took his position without comment. Kra-ort faced him, arms at his sides. He towered over a foot higher than the Guen and looked like he outweighed him by a hundred pounds.
“Begin!”
The Guen leapt forward, arms flashing out at great speed. Kra-ort jumped to the side with even greater speed and the Guen barreled passed him. Kra-ort lifted his foot and struck the Guen on the lower legs as he rushed by. The Guen crashed to the ground with an audible thud. Kra-ort placed a foot on his back, forcing him into the dirt.
“Unacceptable.”
The next recruit entered the ring. He was dispatched in a similarly swift fashion. “Unacceptable.” Three more beings entered the ring and all were defeated quickly. I watched Kra-ort and was very impressed with his skills. “Unacceptable.” Granted, I hadn’t seen much, the fights only lasted a handful of seconds, but what I did see told me that Kra-ort was as good as Clint, maybe better. He moved with speed, precision, and used his size to his advantage. “Unacceptable.” But he did not rely on it. He used his speed and his agility to defeat his opponents, never using more strength than he needed to. “Unacceptable.”
“You must be the human everyone is talking about.” The last being lay groaning in the dirt and Kra-ort was looking at Clint. “They say you took out an entire garrison singlehandedly. You must think you’re pretty good, huh?”
Clint stared at the Swrun in Stoney silence. His body looked relaxed, but I could see the telltale signs that Clint was ready to move at a moment’s notice.
“That may be, but I doubt you’ve ever faced a member of the Home Guard. Let’s see what you’ve got.” I blinked. Kra-ort had been a member of the Home Guard? That was the elite unit that guarded the Emperor himself. The Legion of the Guard defended Swrun itself and they were the best the Swrun army had to offer. They could take out platoons almost by themselves. The Home Guard were the best of the best. They were augmented by twisted sciences that left them with great size and trained day and night for years until they were the deadliest warriors in the galaxy. Them and the Breakers, the other elite Swrun legion.
“Gladly,” said Clint and he stepped out onto the dirt. Kra-ort and Clint stood facing each other, separated by a few feet. They circled each other, sizing each other up. Clint had the advantage here, as he had seen Kra-ort fight before. The Swrun would be fighting blind as it was, other than the stories of Clint’s skill. Kra-ort seemed a practical being, he would take those stories with a great deal of salt.
The similarity in their physicality was striking. Both were extremely tall, each over six feet. But for once, Clint was the smaller one. Kra-ort stood an inch or two higher than Clint, his eyes at the level of Clint’s forehead. Both of them were solidly built, muscles bulging from places where there shouldn’t have been muscle and arms thicker than most beings’ legs. But Clint was the smaller here as well. I did not think it would be possible for a being to be bigger than Clint Stone, other than Irgh, but Kra-ort was.
Still circling each other, their limbs moved with smooth precision, not a step out of place. They watched each other, looking for an opening. Clint saw one and swung his right hand in a quick jab at Kra-ort’s side. He blocked it with a swift motion of his arm. Clint raised an eyebrow and swung at the other side, with his metal arm. I noticed that he did not swing with near the strength he could have. If he had wanted to, Clint could have completely obliterated the bones in Kra-ort’s chest with a single punch, but he did not.
He swung with the same strength as his flesh and blood arm that, while still devastating, would not cause a great deal of damage. If what I saw in Kra-ort was correct, he would not do much more than bruise. Kra-ort blocked Clint’s swing. Clint grinned and unleashed a series of strikes, each coming faster than the last. Any one of them would have overwhelmed a lesser foe and driven them to their knees. Kra-ort blocked them all or avoided them.
Clint’s face broke in a wide smile. “This is going to be fun.”
With that, Clint attacked in earnest. He moved in a flurry of motion, his arms a blur. Kra-ort stood firm against that attack, a cliff against the storming ocean. He defended for several moments, getting a feel for Clint’s skill. Then he attacked. Fists jabbing, knees striking, elbows swinging, Kra-ort moved in perfect steps, in an onslaught that left the beings around the circle shocked with awe. Clint weaved between the blows and set some back.
The fight was unlike anything I had ever seen. Each combatant ducked and weaved and struck, mirroring the other. Punches passed by, close enough the other was able to feel the breeze. Some connected, but they were shrugged off and a counter blow delivered. Bodies twisted, angling for better advantage or dodging a blow. It was not a fight, it was a dance and both of the dancers were masters. As I watched, I realized I had never truly seen Clint Stone fight.
He had fought hundreds of thugs, pirates, mercenaries, and soldiers, but he had never faced a challenge in them. They fell like trees before the axe. He danced among them as a demigod, untouchable. Now he danced with one as skilled as he. Kra-ort moved with careful, graceful movements, matching and countering every one of Clint’s. The speed and agility displayed by the fighters was the most magnificent thing I had ever seen. Either one of them could have taken on an army and come out the victor.
Titans of the battlefield faced each other, trading blows with skill rarely seen in the universe. They fought for a long while, each seeking that one mistake that would prove their opponents undoing. In watching them, it became apparent that the way they fought was very different from the other. Kra-ort fought with a rigid, structured style. Each movement flowed smoothly into the next, each a clear, distinct motion. Clint seemed to fight with a wild, undisciplined style, full of chaos and sudden jerks. But it had a beauty to it, the beauty of a wild beast, the savage predator who fights with the instincts given it by nature.
There was order to Clint’s fighting, a layer underneath it all. It directed the flow from wild punches to controlled jabs, the savage blows to swift strikes. Order met chaos in the center of that dirt ring and chaos won. Kra-ort made a tiny, almost unperceivable, mistake. His heel turned an inch too far on one of his reposes and it threw off his rhythm just the tiniest bit. If he had been facing any other opponent, he would have recovered in a heartbeat and continued fighting. But he was facing Clint Stone.
That slight mistake was enough for Clint to slip around Kra-ort’s defenses and land a decisive blow on his torso. Kra-ort was forced sideways and Clint finished him with a sweeping blow to his legs, followed by a strike from his forearm. Kra-ort crashed to the ground and Clint stood over him, face red and body tense. But his face was not red with anger, but exertion, and his body relaxed as soon as the fight was over. The rest of the recruits stared in awe at what they had just witnessed. Several had their jaws hanging open and I could not blame them, I felt close to the same.
Clint laughed breathlessly and offered his hand to Kra-ort. The Swrun clasped it with his and Clint pulled him up. Clint clapped his hand on the Swrun’s shoulder.
“That was the best fight I’ve had in years. Thank you.” And he smiled. I did not know what was going on. Clint was happy with the Swrun Major, one of the race he hated. Kra-ort nodded. “You really are as good as they say. Acceptable.”
Clint nodded and stepped back out of the circle. Kra-ort straightened in the center of the circle and turned to me. “I wonder if the tales about the jahen who fights are true as well. You’re next.”
I walked out into the center of the ring, my mind racing. How was I to beat him? He was far more skilled than me, bigger and faster. He had stayed with Clint for a great while and I had never done that. But Kra-ort was tired, he had just spent a good ten minutes fighting one of the most skilled beings in the universe. That is where I would have to focus my attack. I would have to drag this out, get him tired enough to be able to beat him.
Until now, it had always been the other being who had attacked Kra-ort, but if I wanted to win, I would have to wait for him to attack me. I moved to my left and he moved to his left. We circled around the center of the ring, the beginning of this fight indistinguishable from the one before it. I raised my hand, palm up, and curled my fingers towards me, inviting Kra-ort to attack. He obliged.
He moved in quickly, fists held high. When he got close enough, he swung with his right, connecting with my jaw. Or he tried to. I danced out of the way, twisting around behind him, striking with my elbow as I passed. I was rewarded with a grunt. Before I could do anything else, Kra-ort spun with his lightning speed and readied himself for anything I could throw at him.
I didn’t, I just danced farther away. He chased me, clearly wanting to get this fight over with. I darted out of the way, moving fast. If he had been fresh, he would have caught me for sure. But he wasn’t and I was just fast enough to get out of the way. When I ducked under the next of his swings, I saw a knee coming for my face. He had figured out my plan and was trying to end the fight. I twisted and his knee just brushed my cheek instead of crashing into it.
I hit the ground and rolled quickly to the side, trying to avoid any blows from his feet. I got my feet under me and stood, braced for an attack. It came from my left and I did not have time to avoid it. I threw up my arm and knocked it down across the front of my body. The force of it sent pain up my arm, but not nearly enough to stop me. I grabbed the arm at the elbow and pulled myself forward, swinging my other hand at Kra-ort’s face. It connected.
He pulled his head back and his left arm flew in from the side and caught me in the chin. I had been too preoccupied with the fact that I had managed to knock back a being nearly a foot taller than me and outweighed me by ninety pounds to notice. I flew to the side and crashed into the ground, the breath driven from my lungs. I forced myself to my knees then my feet. There was no way in hell I was going to not finish this.
Kra-ort stood facing me, his hands at his sides. He saw me standing and I saw his eyes widen just a little bit. His mouth opened to say something, but I leapt at him, crashing into him with the full weight of my body, propelled forward by legs strengthened by keeping up with Clint for two years. My shoulder drove into his stomach and we slammed into the ground in a heap. I ended up on top and I lifted my fist to strike him.
It was caught in midair by someone standing behind me. “Tedix, stop, you’re fine.”
It was Clint who had grabbed me. I half-turned to look at him but a strange yelping coughing noise made me turn my head. Kra-ort was laughing. “You certainly do fight. Better than most I’ve fought, too. Acceptable. Now get off of me.”
I did so, standing and taking my place in the circle, my mind racing and body tired. I had been acceptable. But I had not beaten him. Then I realized if Clint had barely beaten him, then there was no way any other beings had. It must have been based off how well you did against him. Clint beating him had likely never happened before.
I turned my attention back to the circle. The remaining four beings entered the ring, one by one, each of them ending up in the dirt like I had. Three were judged unacceptable. The fourth, the Kantim who had met his gaze, stayed up for several minutes, leaping here and there, swiping at Kra-ort as he passed. He was eventually felled, but Kra-ort deemed him skilled enough to pass.
After we had each gone through and faced him, the Swrun stood in the center of the ring. “Those of you who passed have been granted the rank of private and you are now a full member of the Rebellion’s army. Those of you who did not pass will join basic training. Do not worry, I’m sure you will get out much sooner than the rest.”
Kra-ort seemed much more friendly and jovial than he had been at the beginning of the evaluation. He must have been trying to get us to dislike him so we would be willing to hurt him in the fight. It had worked. He continued. “For those who passed, you will be assigned a ‘training mission’ as you will, as a test of your battlefield composure. When you -”
The door banged open and a being rushed in. He swept his eyes around the room, searching for someone. His eyes rested on Gem, seated on the edge of the room, watching the proceedings. “Gem, Skuar wants to see you now. It’s urgent. He also said bring the ones who passed Combat eval.”
Gem stood. “Those of you who passed, follow me.” He nodded his head at Kra-ort. “With your leave, Sergeant Major.” Kra-ort waved his hand and Gem left the room, Clint, the Kantim, and I on his heels.