[November 337th, GPY 2. Portunia. Choece, Ganymede. 0658. UGT.]

[Merit: 211]

"Gelos."

…

"Gelos!" Jordan reached over to jostle his friend awake once again. Invoking a monstrous growl to rattle across the room. Akin to what he'd heard during his trial back in New Bran. "Gelos!" Jordan shoved him again, this time enough to roll him over. "It's time to train."

'Time for me to train I guess.' Jordan shrugged. Turning away from another menacingly loud groan emitted by Gelos to stroll through his elder brother's home until he wandered into the training grounds, deep in the lower levels of the house.

The spherical space seemed to be as large as the footprint of the entire building. High, arched ceilings loomed above an empty floor, shining harsh light through recessed pits along the ceilings that caused stout shadows to fall under the weapons lockers, exercise equipment and powered down robots lining the walls.

"Before we get started." Arthur called from across the room. He was dressed in a formal pair of black slacks, coupled with a sleeveless black shirt and white button up vest that proudly displayed the Astros tags on his shoulders. -The Clan's coat of arms and the number 11. "Please," He said. "Do tell me why you're so pressed to face this knight."

"Marshal Law left her spear inside of me after she killed me." Jordan yawned. "Which is apparently seen as a call for a re-challenge here. Once I did, she implied that I impressed her."

"And that's it?" Arthur snorted in obvious disbelief. "That's the only reason?"

"Once I slay her I go about my business." Jordan nodded amiably as he lazily wandered about the room. Perusing the assortment of weapons scattered along the walls with almost enviable eyes.

Arthur paused before nodding curtly to himself. "I see. I was never particularly fond of that custom."

"Why?" Jordan asked, only mildly interested.

"It's barbaric."

"And what we do is any better?" Jordan snorted, Darting his eyes back to his brother. "Europan's steal from corpses."

"You can't steal from the dead in the Powers," Arthur said.

Jordan recoiled in confusion scoffing out a raspberry. "Uh, yeah. You can. It's called grave robbing."

"There are no graves in the Galilean Powers, Jordan. Only memorials." Arthur said coldly. "And only those who lose their head and truly die, get recycled."

Jordan bit his tongue against stating the obvious as he continued perusing Arthur's inventory. Everything from pocket knives to hand cannons and rifles sat neatly arranged around the space. Recessed into the stone and guarded by a thick alon sheets while the few combat androids sat on their mounts. Their thick, padded limbs hanging loosely at their sides. Almost swaying.

"Tell me about your training," Arthur said. Breaking the blissful silence with more pestering. "What's your regimen?"

"First." Jordan raised his index finger to eye level and enhanced his field of view to Arthur's positions. Where he studied his eyes closely as he asked -"Why'd you suddenly agree to help me."

Arthur let out an exacerbated sigh before plucking his glasses from his face to meticulously; furiously, scrub them clean before returning them to his face. Where they comically magnified the pair of pitiable blue eyes. "Honestly." He sighed again. Shaking his head. "I brought you to that bar with hopes that my peers would talk some sense into you. Instead." He let out a small huff of a chuckle. "Instead, they ended up supporting you."

"Ah." Jordan nodded as the pieces slowly began to fit together. Blinking hard as his vision reset, Jordan stayed silent until he trailed the perimeter of the training grounds and returned to Arthur's side near the middle. "So in other words. You don't want me to make you look bad." He snorted contemptuously. Sizing his brother up while his head shook from side to side. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Whatever helps you rationalize things, Jordan." Arthur sighed. "Now, tell me."

"I use an AR training program called Shadow Army." Jordan stated. "And I take lessons in sojutsu from the virtual instructors online."

"That's it?" Arthur asked incredulously. "No PT?"

"Not really." Jordan shrugged. "I figured I'd just get my muscles augmented after I rank up. Get a better set and worry about it then."

"There are no better sets." Arthur groaned as he put his glasses through another cleaning routine. "It's a scalable system." He paused again to place his glasses before his disappointed eyes. "The base function is to counteract muscle atrophy in low-g environments. Improvements for strength and endurance are compounded onto the foundation. Which will be available after you rank up."

'Which is exactly why I wanted to wait.' Jordan internally retorted. 'It won't make me stronger. So in other words, it's a waste of points. However.' He sighed. Looking his brother in the eye. "I suppose it would allow us to train in the void lands longer."

"You'll be getting them installed tomorrow." Arthur ordered. "And you'll be wise to have your friend do the same."

"He's his own person." Jordan distantly grunted.

Arthur only shot Jordan a curious glance before continuing with his demands. "As for your physical training, you'll be doing a-thousand sit ups and five-hundred squats a day until the knight returns. On top of your combat training."

"A thousand?" Jordan cackled.

"Oh, don't give me that!" Arthur laughed. "Respirocytes negates the buildup of lactic acid in your body. You probably won't even have to breathe!" He snorted out another laugh before continuing. Leaning forward to meet Jordan eye-to-eye with an aura that he couldn't quite place. "We're tailored to be just as strong as we are intelligent. But that can only take us so far." He paused again. Long enough to bring Jordan's drifting eyes back to Arthur. Who was now beginning to pace away towards the middle of the room like some type of scholar.

"Power is generated from the ground and your core. Shifted from your legs, to your hips, to your spine, and limb to limb through rotation. Generating more power than your body is otherwise capable of producing. Too much power however, and you'll break. Even if your arms are superior to your flesh, the point of failure will be pushed back to your shoulder. Or your spine; hips; legs or wherever else it can release. There will always be limits, Jordan. And only training will raise your ceiling higher."

"I know this already, Arthur." Jordan yawned.

"Then why haven't you been doing it?" Arthur turned on his heels. Raising his voice only a few decibels as he stared at Jordan with the noticeable traces of a scowl aggregating onto his brow. "You should've never stopped doing it. And you should continue to do it! Always! No matter what rank you are."

"Alright. Alright. I understand." Jordan grumbled. Throwing his hands up in surrender.

Arthur simply stared at Jordan for a few seconds before extending his pointer finger towards the younger Astros and wiggled it furiously between him and the ground. "Get to it." Arthur cheered mockingly. "And send the spear in here while you're at it."

'How ‘bout you wait.' Jordan thought, grinning and nodding to Arthur as he waddled to the wall.

After plugging his feet into a small eyelet at the base of the wall, Jordan paused to vacantly gaze off into the distance before beginning his routine.

"So. Tell me." Jordan heaved between repetitions. "Why wasn't Sam aware that you're a child of the Clan? Don't tell me you're ashamed of us?" He snorted.

Arthur's lips curled up into a snidely smirk before his face recovered into its usual pretentious disposition. "Anonymity is sometimes favorable, Jordan."

Jordan only rolled his eyes. Turning his focus to the rep counter augmented onto the wall in front of him.

[16. 17. 18...]

"And your friend, Gelos." Arthur commented after few minutes of silence. "Has he been inducted yet?"

"He hasn't." Jordan grunted. "I don't even know if he wants to. Though I should probably ask. We're gonna need something to fill our time for the month ahead."

"Well." Arthur shrugged out a sigh. "Whatever you do. Just remember the rule."

"Yeah." Jordan curtly replied. Falling silent after to focus on his sit ups, eventually completing them with a struggle and moving on to work through the squats.

"No one said you had to do them all at once." Arthur chuckled at an approaching Jordan. Gently palming his abdomen as he approached.

Jordan, too mentally fatigued to retort as he pleased, extended his middle finger to Arthur as he summoned the weapon to the training grounds.

Remembering the sudden warnings back in Talos, Jordan frowned in surprise as he pulled the spear from the ATAR's chute a few moments later. 'Interesting.' he nodded, turning to face Arthur with the weapon held flat on his palms, extended outwards.

He studied his brother intently as it was scanned from tip to pommel. Arthur's eyes shone ever brighter as the seconds passed until he cautiously gripped it in his hands. Pulling it gently from Jordan's embrace.

"Vel." Arthur gasped. Awed as he held the spear overhead for a seemingly endless second until his face coiled. His skin grew clammy. Pale. And in the next instance, a shrill yelp radiated from his mouth. Ripping through the room as his body recoiled away from the object of former reverence.

Away from the spear haphazardly curtailing to the ground.

"What the fuck!?" Jordan shoved his brother aside before darting forward to catch the spear.

Tried to shove his brother aside. Only to be grasped by the arm like a child and yanked back into place before his elder. Stared down at him through their wide, sapphire eyes.

"User privilege denied." Arthur stated coldly. "That's what it said when I grabbed it."

"No shit." Jordan wrestled himself free to retrieve the weapon from the floor. "I was granted temp authorization when I first used it. And before you ask - No. I don't know what'll happen if someone else tries use it."

"I think I do." Arthur said. Eying the spear suspiciously. "Feel it closely. Concentrate until its metal resonates with your own. Then you'll understand."

'Great! Riddles.' Jordan rolled his eyes. But nonetheless did what Arthur had instructed. Just before he began to feel like a dunce, Jordan felt a subtle heat in the haft that he hadn't noticed before. Not necessarily hot; but definitely warmer than solid metal should've been. More than that, Jordan could feel a soft hum emanating throughout the haft. A perpetual, yet subtle, vibration. Like the steady rhythm of a living entity. Sleeping somewhere deep inside the weapon.

Jordan opened his eyes and took a second to rescan the weapon with his eyes. Spotting for the first time, pinhead-sized holes just above the pommel and under the base of the blade. "In hindsight." Jordan chuckled in amazement; despair; disbelief. Or perhaps an amalgamation of the three. "It's obvious that it'd be powered."

"I'm not surprised you hadn't noticed." Arthur chuckled in bemusement. "I had to replay the feeling a few times just to be sure. And even then, my hands were barely sensitive enough to feel it without focusing." He allowed his shaking head to fall into his hands while a despairing chuckle rippled across the room. "It's essentially a tiny torpedo," he cackled. "Or a seeking spear. Unbelievable."

"Still willing to train me?" Jordan laughed dryly.

Arthur simply remained silent. Head still cupped in his hands while he nodded in obvious reluctant agreement.

After a few minutes, Arthur regained his composure and moved before a wooden, human sized pole that was capped with a shield-like target on the torso and head. "We'll start with drills," He said. Pointing towards the dummy. "Get in your stance and practice thrusting. Slashing as well, since you seem to favor it. A thousand repetitions of each variation."

Arthur moved away to the near wall to observe Jordan, standing in a semi-squat with his legs at shoulder width. Jordan pushing off with his trailing foot and, stepping forward, simultaneously twisted his body at the hips to extend his shoulder, his arm and the spear held tightly in his hands to thrust the weapon forward. Depressing the tip of the spear into a gel like fluid that immediately turned rigid. Bouncing the weapon back with harsh reverberations waving up and down Jordan's arm.

Arthur would break the relative peace every couple of minutes. Shouting out corrections to Jordan's form and demanding that he maintain absolute focus during these tortuously mundane repetitions. Short thrusts and long thrusts, slashes and sweeps - leading with the left or right hand; grasped in only a single hand, or both - Jordan monotonously drilled the basic techniques of spear fighting until Arthur called for a short pause so that he could eat his lunch. Insisting after Jordan's declination of yet another meal that the time be spent training against one of the many droids scattered along the walls before leaving Jordan to his own devices.

After working the droids for the length of an hour, Arthur returned. Surprisingly with Gelos in tow. Who wandered aimlessly around the room much like Jordan had after arriving. Eying the items with greedy eyes while Jordan continued sparring and being hassled by Arthur.

"Can I join?" Gelos asked after making his rounds.

Both of the Astros brothers expressed a degree of surprise before Arthur ordered for him to take Jordan's place battling against the droids while Jordan returned to drilling. This time practicing overhead strikes and seemingly superfluous movements of the weapon; jumping and rapidly turning it about his body to add the tremendous power of angular momentum to his blows.

After more endless hours of drilling, Arthur disappeared and came back with two bentos; one of which he distributed to Gelos as he called a short halt to their training for dinner.

"Alright you two." Arthur pointed to each of them before crossing his arms. "Switch. Gelos, choose a weapon and start drilling. Jordan, spar with the droid again. And this time, use Press Boxing. As well as your legs."

"Press Boxing is fine." Jordan sighed. He'd needed to work on his timing anyway. "But, kicking would hurt." He muttered his last point under his breath. Hoping that his elder brother wouldn't hear.

"Goodness, Jordan!" Arthur's groaned, his brows arched high above his aquiline nose as he looked to Jordan with pleading eyes. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Mr.'Burn bridges upon arrival.'" He huffed. Pulling his glasses from his face. "After our session, you're to immediately return to the lower levels to have these installed." He flicked his hand towards Jordan just before a rather short list displayed itself on the wall near Jordan. "You're a fool for not having them. You've basically been fighting at half-strength this entire time."

"I held off on it in the promise of a later; greater, reward." Jordan shrugged. "I still stand by that reason."

Arthur returned his glasses to his face and looked down at Jordan with unmasked disappointment. "Your stubbornness will kill you one day."

"It already has." Jordan snorted dryly.

"Yet you still haven't learned." Arthur shook his head. "And since you're following my regimen, your… density, needs adjustment." He chuckled before pointing a single finger towards Jordan. "You're to spar against the droid as you would a human. Weapons, legs, and everything else at your disposal."

Jordan sighed. Nodding to his brother as he stepped away from the droid, still hunched forward with its guard held up; its padded arms and legs dented and crooked in their sockets. He moved past Gelos. Admirably focused on drilling with a gladius under the instruction of either his own software or his own knowledge. Over to the squat cubes and chests lining the far wall that contained Arthur's collection of weapons. Many of which were likely to have been pried from the hands of the Galilean's he'd slain on campaign.

Jordan stopped before a long and narrow box mounted on the wall that housed a pair of serrated daggers made of a crimson steel. Carefully, he lifted the opening and pulled the knives out one-by-one. Studying and measuring them carefully as he tossed them lightly in his hands to test the weight and balance before pressing his thumb firmly against the blade until it sheared off of his gold plated palms. Leaving a faint scratch.

"Wait until first light to use those."

'Huh?' Jordan froze. The seemingly innocuous words replaying over and over in his mind.

'First light?'

"What are you talking about?" Jordan turned slowly to face his brother.

"Campaign doesn't stop just because your opponent was defeated." Arthur explained as if it were obvious. Because perhaps it was. "The veterans of the Galilean Moons spend weeks upon weeks roaming the surfaces. Campaigning from resonance-to-resonance. Endlessly. Naturally, training is to be treated the same way."

Blowing a raspberry, Jordan returned the daggers to the box and waddled back across the room to the still guarding droid to spar.

And spar and spar. Fight and fight until the sun rose. When Arthur tossed the daggers towards Jordan. Demanding that he repeat the actions of the day prior with the pair of knives while he went to tend to his breakfast. Returning only scarcely to check on Jordan over the next twenty-four hours to pester and drill him or put him on some other routine.

Jordan had never been so grateful for the first light to come on the fourth day. When his brother allowed him and Gelos to sleep, recover and relax in luxury for the entirety of the day.

Of course, only after Jordan completed his daily exercises.

***

[November 340th, GPY 2. Portunia. Choece, Ganymede. 1215. UGT.]

[Merit: 211]

"Jordan!" Arthur called moments before he poked his head into Jordan's accommodations. "The car is ready for you and Gelos to head to the lower levels," he said. "You can choose to stay down there if you wish, so long as you stick to my regimen. You'll need to match your potential and push past it if you're to beat Field Marshal Law."

Jordan rolled over in bed. Shaking his head without so much as opening his eyes. "I want to spar with you before I go." He mumbled. "To see how much of a gap there is between us."

…

Jordan began wondering if his words fell on a vacant crowd and even almost pried his eyes open before Arthur's condescension cut through the air like a hot knife through fat. "I'll let you watch me spar against a droid, Jordan. Since that's what you really want."

"Oh." Jordan snorted. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Jordan heard Arthur's steps trail across the house after another, longer, period of silence. He rose out of bed and took his time getting dressed in casual clothes: Slacks, loafers and collared vest before emerging downstairs. Nodding to a Gelos, hunched over a pile of food as he passed. Plucking a piece of toast from the table before leaning across the counter across from his Martian friend.

"My brother says we can return to Bronio," Jordan said. Taking a large bite of toast. "If we so wish."

Gelos amiably replied without so much as looking away from his food. "What about training?"

Jordan wordlessly sent him a copy of his brother's training routine; minus the droids of course, and waited.

"Nice. Nice." Gelos nodded his eyes clear of digital clutter before expectantly looking to Jordan. "So, lets go. What's next?"

"I need to watch my brother spar before we leave. And say goodbye, I guess." He shrugged.

Gelos cheekily nodded again before turning his attention back to his food. Hopelessly inhaling it as if it were under the threat of vanishing into thin air.

Jordan left him to his own devices and trailed through Arthur's home to his training grounds to studiously observe his brother spar for three, thirty minute rounds against a pair of droids. After compiling the data and assimilating it into the Shadow Army program.

"So." Arthur stood tall about a meter apart from Jordan with an expectant, somewhat prideful expression. "What do you plan on doing after you slay your knight?"

"Who knows." Jordan shrugged with his hands.

"Right." Arthur chuckled softly. "I forgot who I was asking that to."

"Honestly." Jordan laughed. Shaking his head. "I may return to Europa after I rank up. Possibly move to the GangLands. I'm curious to see how the Clan is seen outside the walls of the Castle."

"Well, I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise for you." The corners of Arthur's lips curled into a faint grin just before he bowed. Removing it from Jordan's field of view. "See you later, Little Jordy. I and everyone else in Nagata's Shrine will be watching. Good luck."

"I'll see you when I see you, Arthur." Jordan bowed. "Thank you for everything."