The first official day of the group's rigorous training period began as the enormous illumination panels high in the cavern ceiling gradually brightened, signalling the start of the next 'day' on Doryn Station. Running the better part of ten miles through the station's maze-like access tunnels, Nayla returned just before'sunrise'. Eventually, she gave in to her instincts and let her inner tiger prowl the dark passageways as it pleased. The previous evening, Yan had, as expected, attacked the hotel's weight machines with excessive zeal. He was now nursing overextended shoulder muscles from doing too many high-rep sets on the lat pull-down machine with 175 pounds, which was much too light for him and encouraged bad form.
Every one of the six combatants established their own training routine. Torin stayed in a profound meditative state, never having stopped his practice the previous evening; when he awoke, he would move fluidly into hours of strenuous Tai Chi poses, exerting himself until his legs could no longer sustain him. On the edge of the main city, Luna accompanied Zayn to a well-known weapons emporium. There, she eventually bought a Heckler & Koch G-36C carbine, chambered in the potent.40 caliber round, a new rifle she had long admired. The G36 platform was known for its remarkable accuracy and dependability, making it possibly the best assault rifle design ever created. The compact carbine version, denoted by the 'C' designation, was lighter and shorter than the standard G36 rifle, giving up only a small amount of long-range accuracy for better handling. Back at the hotel, the concierge hardly batted an eye when Luna walked into the lavish lobby brandishing the military-grade weapon; ironically, the prevalence of firearms on Doryn 7 had lowered the rate of small-time street crime to almost nothing.
Kieran and Nora had left early to use the advanced training facilities at Doryn Station's main fighting arena. They were currently engaged in a rigorous training exercise against a group of self-governing training drones. Built from the same organic rock as the rest of the station, the arena itself was very old. Located in the middle of the station's northern 'tendril', it was the centre of a group of buildings that grew lower as they got closer to the arena, giving the impression of a huge bowl with the arena floor at its lowest point.
The arena floor was intended to resemble the bare grey rock of Doryn 7, with many boulders and crags offering plenty of cover. An atmosphere that wouldn't seem wholly out of place within the gates of mythological hell was created by artificial gas jets buried throughout the landscape and set to ignite intermittently, soaking portions of the floor in unexpected outbursts of flame. The terrain, which sloped gradually upward from the center at a precisely calculated angle to provide tiered seating areas with unobstructed views through invisible nanoglass safety panels, did not obstruct advanced sensor suites. There was no need for an internal lighting system because the top of the arena was exposed to the enclosed atmosphere of Doryn Station, which provided plenty of ambient light from the overhead illumination panels. The arena is currently empty and available for private training sessions because no specific preparations had been made yet for the Storm Challenges, which were still a month away, lest rumors leak the location too soon and cause chaos on the fighter forums.
Nora darted in at the same moment, tapping its assigned throat sensor target precisely as Kieran deftly avoided a heavy downward chop from a robotic drone brandishing an axe. In a clattering heap of metal and synth-muscle, the automaton fell to the ground instantly. These training drones, each equipped differently and programmed with randomly selected fighting styles from a huge database, were kept in large quantities by each registered arena. The drones could only be rendered inoperable by precise strikes to critical target sensors, which were positioned in regions that corresponded to vital points—the head, center chest, and neck. There were eighty such units in the fleet of this arena. They were set up by Kieran and Nora to deploy in four-person waves until they were all deactivated. They had complete control over the training facilities and only needed a spoken password phrase in the ancient Actuwei language to gain access to the arena and its systems.
With ease, Kieran retaliated against another attack, this time from a drone brandishing a spear, and then delivered a forceful thrust with his bladed staff that hit the drone's center chest sensor. The 76th drone was defeated, and it fell. A last group of four appeared from the arena wall's access tunnels. Kieran and Nora pulled out guns this time. Crossbow bolts and carefully aimed shotgun pellets caused two drones to plummet rapidly. With three quick movements—two skillful blocks and a final blow to the throat sensor—Nora engaged hers in close combat and disabled it. Even though she knew there were no more targets, she automatically dropped into a low, balanced ready stance after landing the final blow. The final opponent's optical sensors evidently lost sight of the spinning blades and rushed recklessly forward, straight into Kieran's staff, only to be tapped on the chest sensor. Kieran's staff turned into a whirling blur of motion. After turning off the seals on her helmet, Nora stood looking around the field full of downed drones.
"Up," Kieran said plainly.
Eighty metallic forms, their bright paint chipped and scarred from the battle, rose from the ground at once with that one word, looking nothing more like an army of undead rising from their graves. As the robots marched slowly and rigidly off the arena floor toward their assigned recharge stations arranged along the perimeter wall, the two sheathed their weapons. The drones, which resembled fifteen distinct sentient species frequently seen in gladiatorial combat, came in a variety of shapes.
"Not bad," Nora said, tracing a new scratch on the visor of her helmet with a gloved finger. The scratch was caused by a fortunate drone equipped with razor-sharp shuriken. The cosmetic damage could be easily repaired with a small amount of epoxy filler.
Kieran complained, "Dumb bots scratched my paint," as he eyed a new cluster of chips in the deep red finish of his upper arm armor and left shoulder plate. The drones appeared statistically biased to attack from that direction for some reason. Together, the two made their way to the locker rooms.
"Whaddaya think?" After taking off her helmet, Nora posed a rhetorical question. "Ready to take on a Jarn?"
There was a lingering question. No one was ever really prepared to engage in single combat with a Jarn warrior. In order to keep themselves from consistently dominating the top rankings, House Jarn operated under a self-imposed handicap, only sending three of their members to any major tournament.
"I'd take on a team of six Jarns with you guys backing me up," Kieran said critically. Going one-on-one, though? To be honest, I don't know."
"Trying them out can't hurt," Nora said hopefully.
"Yes," Kieran replied flatly, flexing his mechanical forearm's fingers reflexively, "it absolutely can." He shuddered uncontrollably at the memory of the phantom pain where his original arm had been, a memory he rarely indulged.
"Bet Yan's pretty sure of himself, though," Nora said as they started taking off their armor pieces in the roomy locker room.
cryptically, "Wouldn't be too sure of that," Kieran said.
Nora insisted, "Yan's as confident as anyone I've ever met,".
"You would be too," Kieran replied with a sarcastic grin, "if you seemingly had the ability to bed any woman you found remotely sexually compatible."
"Woman?" In response to his crass generalization, Nora raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
"You know what I mean," Kieran said in a low voice while dismissively rolling his eyes. Kieran and Nora walked out to Nora's yellow Dune II parked close to the arena entrance, their armor and weapons safely packed in their transport cases. Whenever possible, Kieran avoided operating his vintage SS because it was a tediously complicated process to synthesize the high-octane gasoline fuel it needed. Nora eased her small car out of the almost empty parking lot; the only other car there was a transport bus from a nearby human high school, clearly on a field trip for educational purposes. Despite its bloody past, gladiatorial combat has always been a significant part of human culture, particularly when it comes to ancient Earth. If the students had been watching, they probably would have been much more delighted to see the controlled combat simulation against drones than they would have been to see the harsh reality of organic opponents.
The satellite radio was tuned to a station that specialized in a variety of rock genres, playing everything from songs by the historic performance art group 'Azure Performers' to the relatively new (fictional) sensation 'Crow Frenzy'. They drove back towards the city center in relative silence. The brain patterns of their original members had been fully mapped and copied digitally centuries prior, effectively immortalizing the latter. Stored on specialized servers, these sophisticated personality algorithms were allowed creative freedom and sometimes produced completely original musical scores and performances that were indistinguishable from the originals. Around the year 2025, this contentious procedure was successfully applied for the first time, and it has since been repeated with innumerable other significant creative humans throughout history.
"Suppose we should let big brother know where we are?" After a lengthy pause, Nora asked casually, expressing a worry that had been nagging at her.
"The generals?" Kieran explained. "Why should they be aware? We accepted this assignment willingly, and they never made it clear that we couldn't leave at any moment.
Nora noted, "No, but we are still technically their field agents," with a little emphasis on the last sentence.
"Even assuming they do need us for something right now," Kieran replied, "do you really want to leave Doryn 7 just when the Storm Challenges are about to happen here?"
Nora thought about that for a while. "No," she said softly.
Kieran said, "Didn't think so," finally. "The galaxy can take care of itself for a little while longer."