"Tournament?" Donovan was eating dinner when he was approached by Wall about something. "No, I don't have any plans to have us participate in a tournament for the foreseeable future."
"How long's that future?"
"Two weeks minimum, perhaps longer if I find that we are lacking somewhere inexcusable." He didn't even bother looking up from his tablet.
Normally the disrespect of not being looked in the eyes when being addressed would aggravate him, but Wall did not find this behavior to be one lacking in respect. Wall understood that whatever Donovan was looking at in that small rectangle of light was infinitely more important to him than what Wall had approached him for. Wall's commanding officer had no intentions of making a mockery of him, but at the same time did not for a second give the impression he would provide to him his undivided attention.
"Would I be able to ask for some time to register tomorrow? And maybe for some time in the future when my turn to compete comes along?"
Donovan paused, tapping his fork on his lips as he thought about something. "When does this tournament take place? How long do you expect to have to be gone? Is there anything else about it I should know?"
"I think it starts three days from now, but that could be wrong. As for how long I'll be gone, perhaps an hour or two? It should not take more than three regardless of what happens."
Donovan continued to tap his lip, this time turning his eyes up to meet Wall's. He was standing at attention, his back ramrod straight and his eyes facing straight ahead. He was quick to learn the form that Donovan desired them to take when being addressed, the punishment being a certain exercise he found unbearable.
"How far do you think you can make it? It's a single elimination set-up right?"
"One loss disqualifies you, that is correct."
"That only answered one of my questions, Wall. How many rounds do you expect to survive?" There was a certain chilliness in Don's voice. Wall had come to understand why Len saw him as terrifying.
"It will depend on luck, but I believe I could make it to third or fourth round before being eliminated." Despite wanting desperately to boast and claim he could make it to the sixth or seventh, Donovan would be able to tell he was lying. How many times had he been caught up to this point? How many times had he been forced to do those 'wall-sits'?
"So you think you fall between the seventy fifth and eighty third percentiles?" Donovan looked him up and down for a few seconds. "Well, I won't pretend to have a good grasp of relative combat strengths, but that seems to match what I've seen thus far. I'll consult Titanyana about it tonight and I will tell you tomorrow."
"Thank you sir!" Wall saluted, grateful for even the chance of proving his might. He had come here fully expecting to be rejected on the grounds that he still needed to train.
"At ease, Wall, and don't feel the need to thank me for this. All I've done is restrict you, participating in these tournaments is your right. Just remember that I need to prioritize the general progress of our squad."
- - - - -
Donovan approached one of the many doors in this Barracks, still feeling awe over the fact that every room was on the level of a luxury suite. It might be true that these were the sons and daughters of the wealthy and influential, but there had to be a consideration to curb their expectations for what the battlefield truly was. Certainly life on the war trail would not be as luxurious as this.
He knocked on the door before speaking. "Is now a good time Titanyana?"
There was silence for a good amount of time. He had ordered her to rest on account of her recent spree of incidents, most notably the blow to her head, so there was a good chance that she was asleep. Tomorrow, hopefully, he would be able to clear her to participate.
"You can come in now."
She sounded groggy, if that was a way to describe her already very quiet voice. There was a good chance she was following his orders.
"Then please excuse me." Despite her invitation, Don opened the door carefully. This was a lady, and he needed to be polite.
Titanyana, on the other hand, was standing at attention at the front of her bed. She was in clothes more suitable to a lounge than a professional environment, but that was to be expected. Given the wrinkled covers, she had definitely tried to clean them up post-haste, it was clear that she was indeed laying on her bed.
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine."
"No headaches? No problems with your eyes hurting?"
"No sir."
"Good. I'll check you tomorrow morning to see if you are fit to fight, no point in doing it now."
"Very well, sir."
"With that out of the way, lets get down to business. Based on what you've seen of Wall's combat ability, how far do you think he would be able to make it in a tournament?"
Titanyana tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"
"How many rounds, on average, should he be able to win before losing? He says the tournament he wishes to enroll in is single elimination."
Titanyana sank into thought, ears occasionally flicking, tail sometimes twitching, before speaking her honest opinion. "It would depend on who signs up for the tournament really. I think he'll be fine for two or three rounds if the majority are the average combatant around here, but if he runs into someone who can easily pierce his armor he will lose without a doubt."
"Is it really that bad?"
"It might be worse. I was going to demonstrate what is likely to happen to him during our spar, but you stopped me."
"That's because I didn't want you damaging his equipment."
"My point still stands, he can't fight people with large split reserves."
"I get that. How far do you think the other two could go?" Donovan was very interested in this bit. He had a few ideas about how to get them to fight as a group, but he wanted to know their individual rankings to get an idea of who needed more work.
"Sanna will be stopped by someone who can either shrug off his lighter attacks with little effort, or are nimble enough to dodge them altogether. Once again, he can't fight someone with a higher split capacity than him, though I will admit his reserves are quite sizable."
Donovan nodded. If her words were true, of which there was no doubt, then Sanna was likely the most useful in a combat situation aside from Titanyana. More than just having the ability to fight from some degree of range, he actually had a few tools that could be used to assist others. Donovan was already trying to think up how he could use some of his abilities to open up enemies to damage.
"As for Len, well, his situation is not ideal."
"How so?"
"So long as he wields that . . ."
"Pile lance."
". . .pile lance, then he is unlikely to survive the first round. Unless he gets very good at predicting where strikes will come from, then even an amateur will be able to hit him before he can get a strike off. He is simply too slow when using that weapon, it's too heavy for him."
"I came to the same conclusion. What about me?"
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Titanyana frowned, unsure of how to approach this. She decided to just avoid the problem entirely. "I will refrain from passing judgement on you until you have both learned to use split to some degree of competence as well as actually fought against someone. You are a little special in certain regards that I just don't know how to judge."
"That's what I thought you were going to say . . . what about you?"
"Hm?"
"How far do you think you could go?"
"It depends. If someone has the ability to counter my speed, its almost assuredly my loss. Otherwise, there's a good chance I win the entire tournament."
"Would you like to compete?"
". . . can I?"
Donovan nodded. At the moment he was only really holding her back. She could probably do with some conditioning, much the same as the rest of them, but Donovan was certain that it would not help her much in combat. He was confident in his assessment that physiology becomes irrelevant once a certain amount of split is channeled. Titanyana seemed to live at that level when it came to combat, so it followed that her focus should instead be on furthering that specific skill.
In fact, Donovan had a suspicion that she was doing just that while she was sleeping.
"Then I would like to sign up for the tournament." Her hand was holding on to the tip of her tail. Given the ever so slight shaking, she was very clearly quite happy with that.
"Then we can sign you up tomorrow. For now though, go to sleep. This'll be your first day back after a while of rest, so you can expect to get fatigued earlier." Donovan returned to the door, prepared to turn in for bed himself.
"Um, Donovan?"
"Hm?"
"Actually, it's nothing." Don turned to see a pair of ears facing the ground.
Immediately alarms went off in Donovan's head. This was not normal behavior for her, indicating something was very wrong. Perhaps she wasn't as well as she was letting on.
"Is something the matter?"
"It's, well, um, I'd like it if Diana could also be present when I talk about it. I think it's important enough to warrant her being here."
"I can get her right now if it's urgent."
Titanyana slowly drew back to sit on the bed. ". . . tomorrow night."
Donovan looked at her for a second, concerned for her wellbeing. "Very well."
- - - - -
Donovan returned to his room to find Diana sprawled out with her face down in the pillow. She had exhibited similar behavior the day before, after her first day of class, so Donovan had a good idea of what she was in a bad mood over.
"Boring lecture?" He placed his tablet on the bedside table before taking a seat next to her and stroking her back. Seeing that he was finally here, she repositioned herself to put her head on his lap.
"They could have taught all six hours in about thirty minutes." She was not happy about that. "There wasn't even any work to do."
Donovan understood her anger very intimately. During a few of his courses he had to attend a few classes that were just rehashes of previous lectures, the most numerous being in his math centered courses. They were boring beyond belief, and a waste of his time.
"I just wanna do something useful!"
"You have been useful Diana! The Arboreal Maiden said you handled yourself splendidly during the trial didn't she?"
"That was one time, Donny. I want to be productive constantly. The fact I'm wasting so much time doing nothing in these classes doesn't jive well with me." She pouted, grabbing Donovan's hand to squeeze. "How far along is ARC?"
"Supposedly he's started the process of melting down raw materials to make a more efficient smelting and molding apparatus. It'll probably take a day or two to complete. We had to revise the design of the Pegasus today in order to make it compatible with travel through Split Space."
Diana turned to him and raised an eyebrow.
"It's how interstellar travel is facilitated."
"Okay, like a hyperdrive or something."
. . .
"Will there be any significant changes to the schedule?"
"Not that Arc could calculate. If anything, the driver we plan to make is going to take a lot less time than we had given ourselves time for. We might be able to get the Pegasus operational in six months."
"How long was it before?"
"Arc claimed ten under optimal conditions, but it admitted that it overestimated how long it would take to actually get the vital shipyard components operational. Now it's only five months instead of seven."
"So that means you gave the acquisition or production of this drive," Diana tried to calculate it in her head, "two months?"
"We considered that to be a safe bet. If it was going to be longer, then there would be nothing we could do about it, but we felt that was a good estimate based on how fast the Captain said ships are built."
"Hmmm. Where are we going to go once it's finished?"
"Our new home, I would think. How is the colony progressing?"
"Montaug says not to worry about it. They are still in the process of gathering volunteers, but they do have a force on the ground clearing away threats."
"Good, good." Donovan wanted to praise their efficiency, but he really didn't have much to use in comparison. "Titanyana wants to talk to us tomorrow. What do you think the chances are it's about what the Arboreal Maiden told us to look out for?"
"Sounds likely. Now get ready for bed, I have a busy schedule of absolutely nothing to do tomorrow."