Codi woke up early on the morning of the friendly. Too early. She sat in the canteen at seven o’clock, before even Vasco arrived, nursing a glass of water as she thought. In her head she ran through every combat technique she could remember, the weapon systems, the stances, the reactions, the blocks, the attacks; three weeks of painfully accumulated fighting knowledge.

She knew she was making herself crazy, but she couldn’t help it. Taking a sip from the water, she dug her free hand into her thick black locks and closed her eyes. Codi heard the light footsteps entering the room but didn’t deign to react.

“Can’t sleep either?” Lita enquired, sitting down opposite her.

Codi gave a grunt of ascent but didn’t open her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m nervous too.”

“Never said I was nervous.”

“It’s kind of obvious.”

“Fine.” She opened her eyes and took another sip of water. Looking across the table she saw Lita with her hands resting on the table in front of her, fingers tightly interlocked. The pair sat there in an uneasy silence for the better part of half an hour, wrapped up in their own heads until Vasco arrived to start making breakfast. He noticed them – Codi saw that much – but he didn’t say anything. Instead he just strode into the kitchen area like it was any other day and set to work.

Just before eight the twins and Max appeared, seemingly at ease, but when Max sat down she spotted the nervous twitch at the edges of his smile.

“How we all feeling?” Lucas chimed, irrepressible as ever. “Dunno about you guys, but I feel like someone’s doing a barn dance in my stomach.”

“Nervous?” Max said.

The twin grinned. “Excited.”

Codi shook her head, unable to keep a smile from slipping across her face. For now she stopped analysing inside her head and relaxed a little. Having the others around reminded her: you’re not in this alone. When Vasco served up the usual breakfast of thick porridge she forced it down despite the butterflies in her stomach. Regardless of nerves, Codi knew she’d need the energy later in the day.

Their meal passed quickly, the conversation sparse. She could almost feel the apprehension beating from them, any why shouldn’t they be apprehensive? This would be the first true test of what they’d learned. Codi didn’t want to think about what would happen if they messed it up.

“The tournament starts at noon,” Vasco said while clearing up the plates. “So I think I’ll take the morning to show you the arena.”

“There’s an arena here?” Codi asked.

Vasco gave her an incredulous look. “Where the hell did you think we were going to have this little friendly, kid?”

“Oh…I just, well I thought this place was so run down-,”

“It is.” He shrugged. “The arena used to be for when Brax-Delta had enough support behind it to field up to five teams. They held inter-team matches, competitions for recruits.” Then she saw a flash of something she’d never seen cross his face before: sadness. “But that was a long time ago.” He finished his chores in silence then beckoned them to follow.

After taking the elevator to the ground floor, Vasco led them through past the reception desk, down a long broad corridor with a double door looming at the far end. Codi saw a sliver of light sneaking through the tiny gap at the door’s base.

“First time this arena’s been used in a decade,” their instructor sighed as he gripped the handle. “Well, kids, take a good look.” With that he flung the door open, unleashing a blaze of sunlight and an invigorating waft of fresh air. Codi’s heart leapt when she realised the arena was outdoors.

The enormous ringed coliseum sprawled out before them, already busy with attendants and technicians making the preparations for the coming contest. The fighting area itself must have been at least fifty yards across, with two large arcs of seating on the left and right. Obstacles littered the space; ramps, platforms, jutting pillars of metal, all of them placed seemingly at random. And above it all the sun beat down, as though giving its blessing to the tournament.

“The format today is simple,” Vasco declared. “We start with twenty; everyone will get four fights till we’re down to a round of eight where the knock-outs start.”

“Are you expecting a lot of people?” Codi asked quietly, gazing at the stands.

He shrugged. “Couldn’t say. This tourney was organised pretty quickly so we haven’t had much time to advertise. That said it’s been a long time since Brax-Delta hosted a tournament.”

“You organised it all?” Max queried. “You’ve been with us training. How’d you find the time?”

“He didn’t. Someone else did.”

Codi looked sharply to her left at the sound of a familiar voice. Sure enough, there stood Mr. Barrow the disciplinarian, lounging against one of the metal pillars with a thin smile on his face.

“You organised this?” she exclaimed.

“Quite a bit of it, yes.” He walked over to the group. “So how’s everyone feeling today? Ready to have a bit of rough and tumble?” They all mumbled ascent, causing Barrow to raise an eyebrow. “Okay,” he continued. “Remember this is just a friendly. Don’t worry about the results. Go out there and try to learn something. This is the closest practice you’ll get before the real thing.”

“Why…I mean, how did you-?”

“I wasn’t born as a school disciplinarian, Codi,” Barrow chuckled. “I’ve had some dealings with The Gauntlet in the past. I figured I could give Drake here a helping hand to get you all ready.”

“And I’m grateful for it.” Drake inclined his head towards his friend before turning to the fighters. “You’ve got three hours till things get started. Do whatever you need to do. The centre’s open for free practice but I want you all here, suited up and ready to go fifteen minutes before noon.”

***

The butterflies hadn’t gone away over the course of the morning that had passed with agonizing slowness. Standing with the rest of the team, fully geared up and ready to go, Codi gnawed on her lip, clenching and unclenching her fists by her sides. She’d done her best to keep calm, re-watching the training videos, stretching and training lightly to keep herself loose and limber. But now the fighting was about to get underway.

She chanced a look over her shoulder where the fifteen other fighters from the travelling academies were assembled. The sight made her stomach turn. Huge, burly males; lithe, sinewy females; every one of them looked like they’d been bred for this. Comparing them to their own compliment she couldn’t help feeling like they simply didn’t belong.

A booming announcer’s voice cut off her thoughts. The man welcomed spectators, both local and travelling, and then thanked the other three academies for attending. She listened to the names: Blood Ruby, Kar-Matala; Zazana Lake. The three were local, by interstellar standards, travelling from nearby systems to give Brax-Delta’s students their first taste of Gauntlet combat.

Then the doors suddenly opened. It took Max nudging her as he passed by to get Codi moving, out into the daylight to the ripples of applause. Glancing around as she exited the tunnel, she noted that the stands were only around half-full. That made her feel a little more at ease. Frankly the less people staring and watching her every move the better. The instructors led their respective teams to their benches situated just on the edge of the fighting arena. Vasco said nothing as they assembled, his face a grim mask of concentration. What was going through his head Codi could only guess at.

Then the announcer bawled out the names of the first two fighters.

“And to open the preliminary rounds of this friendly tournament we will have a standard melee match-up. From Zazana Lake we have Arvin Lee, and his opponent from Brax-Delta; Codi James.”

She swallowed down the lump in her throat and made herself breathe regularly. Then she felt Vasco’s hand on her shoulder.

“Just remember the training, kid,” he said. “And remember what Barrow said. Learn as you go.”

Jaw tight, Codi nodded and walked out into the centre of the ring, turning to face her first real opponent. Arvin Lee stared back. He was around her height but built like a bull, the deep midnight blue of his exoskeleton glinting viciously in the sunlight. In a slow deliberate motion he lowered himself into a fighting stance. Looking at the placement of his feet and hands Codi tried to put a label to his style as she prepared. Her mind went blank. All she knew now was that this kid was getting ready to beat her into the ground.

Before she could gather herself and think the announcer’s voice knifed through the air. “Fight!”

Lee lumbered forwards and Codi braced herself. The punches came flying in from both sides and she blocked automatically, running through the string of defensive techniques in her mind’s eye. Left elbow, right elbow, duck, back step; then she brought both hands together in a downward motion to block a kick aimed at her mid-section.

She made the block, but then her hulking opponent rammed into her with one broad shoulder, the impact bowling her backwards head over heels till she hit one of the metal pillars. Scrambling upright, Codi leapt clear as Lee came thundering in with a murderous right haymaker. Hitting the ground and rolling, she came to her feet at the base of one of the platforms. Lee wasn’t about to give her a respite, however. He jumped too, landing barely two feet away and bringing both hands down like a club.

Codi managed to deflect the attack away from her head, but instead his clenched fists hammered down against her shoulder, sending a lightning bolt of pain through her arm and knocking her off balance. She threw out a quick jab with her right hand, cracking him across the jaw, but he rode the impact and powered forward.

Pressed up against the platform, she kicked out at his mid-riff, but he must have anticipated the move. He twisted his body sideways, trapping her outstretched leg between his arm and side. Codi had an instant to panic before Arvin Lee gripped her leg with both hands and heaved, flinging her across the entire length of the arena with a snarl of exertion.

She hit one of the ramps with bone-jarring force and the wind was driven from her. Gasping for air, she struggled to her feet, her back aching from the impact. She couldn’t concentrate, only barely getting back into her stance in time for her opponent to continue his relentless assault. Eventually he found ways through her desperate resistance. First a right across the cheek, a left to the stomach, a kick to the outside of the knee. It all built up until Lee found a gaping hole in her defences and unleashed a punishing right hook.

Codi saw it, but had no time to get out of the way. She closed her eyes and braced an instant before his clenched fist smashed into her face.

Pain exploded in her head as the blow sent her spinning. Stars floated in her vision and her neck throbbed from the horrendous forces imparted. Dizzied, disorientated and unable to think, Codi crumpled to the ground on all fours. She never saw Lee’s follow up kick, but when it came it felt like she’d been hit by a truck.

His foot hit her right in the stomach, the servos in his exoskeleton lending immense power to the attack. It lifted her bodily at least twenty feet high and when Codi hit the ground she couldn’t get up again. A siren blared and she was dimly aware of the announcer’s voice.

“And the winner of our first bout, by clear knock-out, Arvin Lee from Zazana Lake!”

***

From his position in the stands, Jacob Barrow watched the carnage of the friendly tournament. The afternoon seemed to stretch out into one long, unbearable beating for the novice fighters of Brax-Delta.

He almost physically winced every time Codi was slammed into the ground, kicked through the air or punched in the face, because he knew he’d put her there. But the other members of the academy faired little better. One by one the other academy fighters unleashed themselves, bigger, stronger, faster, tougher; they seemed to be in a different reality. The only small mercy came when the preliminary rounds finally ended. At least none of the Brax-Delta competitors had to worry about the knock-out round.

Standing up amidst the latest round of applause from the foreign supporters, Barrow headed for the exit. In the back of his mind a bitter feeling of responsibility lurked. He never should have suggested the tournament, and never should have sent a seventeen-year-old orphan into the brutality of the Gauntlet.

He left the arena without looking back.