Leaping back to the brawling mob, Jordan's eyes switched focus between Gelos and Zoltan; Zoltan and Gelos, as he tried to decide which member of his party to assist. Gelos and his chase. Or Zoltan, who'd began to be assaulted by Jade.

To test their new combat theories. Or gauge his compatibility with the Ganymedean.

After drifting to a halt around ten meters away from the group, Jordan's decision had been made. He stood in place, allowing the spear to lazily slip from his hand. Leaving it suspended off to his right side. Trailing slow circles beside him as he knelt to his left to pound the ground at his feet.

After a few strikes, several citrus-sized shards, stones and chunks of rocky-ice were aggregated into a loose assembly just above the surface. Carefully, Jordan scooped them in his hands and hastily moved as relatively thick clouds of vapor began to plume around his hands to quickly dissipate into the void not even a moment later.

In one smooth motion, Jordan slowly stood and released his arms. Spreading his palms apart as if here preparing to clap. Releasing the material into a small cloud in front of him and with steady fingers, began plucking stones from the cloud before he turned back to face the mob. Forward knee held to chest height before slamming forth a moment prior to his pitch. Sending shards and stones rocketing through the void towards the first targets he saw.

Like a machine, Jordan fluidly repeated the motions. Seemingly without a change in pace as his ammo was restored and another cluster of stones and shards were sent hurtling through the airless sky. Pelting random members of the mob until the cloud around him had diluted to disappearing dust and vapor.

Jordan paused once again. If only for a few seconds to allow him to once again study the perpetually shifting web of combatants. Seemingly uncaring of the few opponents drifting or bounding towards him in earnest. Judging from the situation, he figured those who followed them to surface wanted to take advantage of the fatigued and injured victor. Claiming a spot in the house all for themselves. A plan that was most likely ruined by Zoltan attacking; possibly at random. Plausibly as a result of Jordan's earlier comment.

Thus, spurring a brawl in their isolated pocket of the surface.

Jordan slightly bent at the knee to retrieve the spear from its suspension and swiftly spun it around his arms and body before bringing it in an arc around him. Driving the hilt into the ribs of an onrushing Galilean to his left. With a snap of his arm, Jordan followed along with the rebound. Sending the spear's base pummeling into the opponent opposing the prior target before arcing around and under to catch the third in the chin. Scattering the three of them back across the plains and crudely resetting Jordan's relative velocity to near zero.

Looking out again, Jordan began to study Zoltan's fighting style more closely. The way he seemingly thrashed about to the nearest opponent made it evident that he was trained primarily by the streets of Choece's lower levels. Simply put, he excelled in brawls. Regardless of his brash and otherwise unrefined style however, the eased fluidity of his motions and the accuracy of his brazen blows displayed a proverbial mountain of experience held within the stony shell of his helmet. Experience that was challenged only by the likes of Jade and a couple others.

In short, he was more than capable of holding his own.

And he made good drinks.

Satisfied with his observations, Jordan leapt forward. Towards Gelos. Standing triumphantly above Lee's still corpse. His guard high, near the edge of the mob.

"Gelos!" He called over their channel. "First formation!"

The only sense of acknowledgement Gelos gave was a twirl of his Gladius in his hand. He otherwise remained in place. Evidently unaware of the few opponents suddenly approaching from his flanks. As Jordan drifted into range, he leaned forward as if he were diving, before sweeping the spear above Gelos' head.

As Jordan trailed above him, Gelos gripped his partner by the back of the belt. Wheeling him down to the ground as Gelos himself was gently plunged into the dark sky.

After gathering his footing, Jordan clutched the pommel of his weapon in both hands and spun around as he gently rose to stand. With his hands extended before him, he spun about thrice within Gelos' shadow. Arcing the spear's blade round and around in penetrative barrier that kept the evidently wise Galilean's at bay.

Jordan felt a tap against his helmet after coming about for the fourth time. Seeing Gelos' feet slowly descend below his trailing spear, Jordan planted his feet as he retracted the weapon to lie along his chest. Continued his rotation, and thrusted upwards at a near forty-five degree angle to his front.

The spear shuddered in Jordan's hand as the once-charging Ganymedean fell limp against Jordan's blade and subsequently flung backwards into the sky with Jordan's follow through. Seemingly to disappear into the distance at comically slow speeds. With the faint infrared glow of their flailing body and the conical plumes of their maneuvering thrusters the only things distinguishing themselves from the perpetual emptiness behind them.

Through the opportunity afforded during Jordan's recovery, a couple of their opponents managed to slip through Jordan's perimeter. Flanking Gelos on either side while the last three regulars decided to simultaneously pounce towards the spear bearer.

Without hesitation, Jordan stomped forward. Thrusting the spear before him, from his hips. Into the neck of the closest assailant on his right. Retracting and backpedaling immediately after catching purchase, Jordan held the spear level; at chest height, before thrusting out again at the opponent on his other flank before flicking the blade violently towards the center foe. Smacking the flat of the blade against the helmet and imposing a horizontal cartwheel onto both his opponent; and the spear upon release.

With his maneuvering thrusters firing around him at their maximum capacity, Jordan weaved under the revolving weapon to step beneath the Ganymedean. And with as much mass beneath him as he could muster, Jordan erupted his fist into the face of their helmet.

At the precise moment impact, all four of the pistons attached to Jordan's knuckles simultaneously fired. Adding as much additional damage to his opponent's helmet as energy to Jordan's fist. Energy in the form a recoil that he still had to consciously focus to follow through against, even after the Ganymedean was sent blurringly backflipping into the sky.

With his opponents now scattered, Jordan quickly turned about to either side to survey the area. Behind him, Gelos was finishing up with his own engagements. His gladius dangerously flashing through the air at every inclination in search of flesh to carve or probe. Meanwhile, a few meters away to Jordan's front. Zoltan was under near constant assault from Jade, who's flurry of punches forced brutish bartender on a defensive retreat.

Further along the sidelines; past the recovered and evidently reluctant regulars, Jordan caught glimpse of a grayed pair of coveralls finally pulling itself it its feet where it stood in place. Turning to gaze across the plains through the molded eyes above its wrinkled and frowned visage.

With a wide grin under his helmet and a pat on Gelos' shoulder, Jordan leapt away from the now borish brawl towards his initial target.

With nothing but ice and a sparse collection of bodies spread around them, it was no surprise to Jordan that Biff spotted him instantly. As if suddenly enraged, he crouched low before pouncing forward.

Once in range, Jordan triggered his maneuvering thrusters to pin him down as he stomped against the ice with a spin of his hips. Sweeping the spearpoint from his ankles to the left shoulder and causing Biff to duck beneath it. Weave seamlessly under Jordan's now outstretched arm with his bat rising from the ground.

Jordan hastily reached across his belly with his free hand just in time for his arm to catch the brunt of Biff's attack. With a ferocious swing, Jordan lashed out as he rebounded to backhand Biff cross the helm before swiftly jerking his left hand downward. Releasing his grip as his did so to allow the haft to slide seamlessly through his palm. Striking the pommel into the nape of Biff's suit.

After collapsing to the ground, Jordan backpedaled across the ice to stand idly before the Ace. Spear held loosely in his fist, out to his side. Contrary to his pestering, Jordan had no desire or intention to end Biff's life. Temporary as an ending it may have been. His initial policy after his campaign against Zoltan was to try and avoid such avenues to the best of his ability. But if it all came down to it, he wouldn't voice his displeasures and would do what needed doing. That said, Jordan's experience with Ganymedean simultaneously groomed Jordan to become reluctant into openly offering surrender to his opponents. Galileans were a prideful people, after all.

So, Jordan decided to only stand in place in an attempt to let his neutral stance and radio silence to offer in his stead.

Actions that apparently went unnoticed by Biff as he clawed to his knees. His neck craned upwards to face Jordan with his helmet.

Despite the close-faced design, Jordan could almost see the scornful grimace beneath the shell of metals and ceramics. A shell that definitively matched the visage of its wearer, centimeter for centimeter.

With a push off the ground with his left foot, Jordan lunged forward. His other boot protruding in a front kick that depressed the face of Biff's helmet against his back. Snapping his legs beneath him like a whip as he was forced backwards into a slow drift above the surface.

Before he could drift away, Jordan stepped forth. Swinging the spear from overhead to bring the blade down along the centerline of Biff's torso. Blowing Biff down towards the surface and pushing Jordan on a gentle rise above from the surface. Before he could drift out of range, Jordan leaned forward. Triggering his thrusters to invert his body as he thrusted forth to impale Biff's rebounding body. Digging into the flesh of his suit a few centimeters away from the earlier point of impact before they were separated.

Post recovery and reset. Jordan vactanly watched as Biff staggered to his feet. A seemingly comical feat, as he pushed himself from the ground in apparent act of monumental effort to sit in a lazy suspension. His body leaned almost entirely horizontal.

'Admirable.' Jordan chuckled to himself before approaching lazily swipe the bat from Biff's palm and tossing it to the side. 'And I can't really call you stupid. Can I?'

After watching Biff slowly drift to the ground for a few more seconds, Jordan pulled his leg behind him before swinging it forth towards Biff's helmet. The latter jerked just before the numbing impact. Inadvertently allowing the tip of Jordan's boot to find purchase below his chin. Prying Biff from the surface. Into a series of relatively slow backflips.

Calmly, Jordan released the spear to drift by his side before sliding across the ice to maneuver next to Biff. Once at his side, Jordan clenched his fists tightly. Pounded his knuckles together in preparation and swung his arm around in a full arc. Delivering a hammerfist to Biff's ribs after the swift rotation and subsequently mounting him once he'd rebounded.

Where he consequently hesitated.

Perhaps because he didn't feel his life was in any particular danger, he wondered.

Against the knight, Jordan acknowledged the tension involved during her campaigns. His blood pressure would rise to near bursting levels. Adrenaline would flood his body. Causing the world to almost move in slow motion, at times.

Frankly speaking- facing her, scared Jordan.

It brought out a primal fear in him that terrorized his still primitive mind. Forcing his flesh to fight with all its might for the sake of survival.

A fear that was entirely missing in the current situation. As well as the situation involving Zoltan.

Still, Jordan wouldn't deny that this situation is a direct consequence of his own actions. Debatably necessary as they were.

'Reap what you sow, Jordan.' He sighed to himself. Raising his fist a degree higher before sending it raining towards Biff's neck.

And continued until the flailings halted. And the augmented notifications began to plague his vision.

[Biff Gaston Brutalized: +150 points.]

[Biff Gaston Slain: +200 Points.]

[Merit: 789]

[Title awarded- Ace of Talos: 25% point increase from all duel/campaign awards initiated within the halls of Talos Community Center.]

Like Biff's body on the ground, Jordan shuddered in response to his rising points and worse, the lack of pride from his victory. As the low levels of adrenaline shivered away, he began to feel the pools of pain and aches begin to spread throughout his body in waves.

'Still too hasty, Jordan." He sighed out a chuckle. Triggering spasms of dull pain to blossom around his ribs. 'But, you got what you wanted.'

Reconnected to the comms, Jordan spoke aloud to himself over the radio as he stepped away from Biff's body. Openly commenting that he should start abiding by the cultures of his home world as well as returning to his roots.

After gazing over his shoulder to the still-frowned visage staring skyward, Jordan knelt before him to retrieve Biff's bat from the ground before moving along to fetch his spear. With his weapons slung over his shoulder, Jordan leapt towards Gelos, Zoltan, Jade and the now-settled mob of Ganymedeans gathered a few meters away.

Pausing next to Lee's lifeless body, Jordan gestured between the corpse and Gelos with his bat for a few seconds before commenting over his and Gelos' private channel. "You know," He said suggestively. "I've no use for them. But those are some fine gauntlets."

"You know." Gelos turned slowly towards the corpse. Nodding with his fist. "They are."

After waiting a moment for Gelos to retrieve his new equipment, the trio began their venture across the surface with Jade and her party trailing silently behind them. Bounding in powerful hops that sent them drifting laterally across the surface. Crossing dozens of meters per stride.

Much to Jordan's dismay, the temporal periods of isolation that were usually granted during such transits were ruined by both the lingering group behind them, and the dull spots of pain plaguing his body. One that attacked the mind and the other the body.

"So, what happened with your duel?" Jordan asked after a few moments. Turning his helm as much as he could care to face Zoltan directly.

"She gave up after you won." He simply replied.

Jordan took a glance at the group behind them before dismissing them as much as he could. Opting instead to quickly survey and compare his levels with Gelos'.

An apparent moment of joy seemed to spark within Jordan as he learned he'd not only caught up to Gelos in points, but Zoltan was around the same level as them as well. Around twenty points higher.

Thinking about how long it was until Law returned however, quickly dismissed such feelings.

"Well." Zoltan huffed across the radio the moment the launchpads drifted past. "I'm off to work."

As if unconcerned, Jordan and Gelos off-handedly waved their acknowledgements as they continued bounding through the safe zone to the landing platforms where they parted ways.

"Oh yeah." Zoltan's voice rang in Jordan's helmet as he waved in the distance. "Tobias is returning in a few days. Just in time to prepare for the next race. If you're interested."

"Are we interested?" Jordan turned to Gelos.

"I'm down for whatever." He vacantly shrugged.

"Sound's good." Jordan nodded back with his hand. "Call us when you're ready."

After a short acknowledgement from Zoltan, the pair were left at the main junction of Safe Zone Twelve. Watching the bartender and other Ganymedeans bound or waddle away towards the shuttles.

Jordan was, at least.

"It's times like these that I miss eating everyday." Gelos sighed heavily. His somber expression somehow clear through the gold-mirror tint along his visor.

"Yeah." Jordan sighed in turn. Allowing a companionable moment of silence to grow between them. "Me too."