The ISS Gyfjon was finishing a lazy turn at Jupiter, continuing its patrol of the Earth Restriction Zone; there was nothing much to report, other than one of those weird flashes of gamma radiation from Earth. These had worried the military brass when they were first sighted a few years back, but there didn’t appear to be any hint of incursion into the restriction zone, and while a quick look at the data from Black Star 1455/04/AA had suggested these were in fact discharges of fusion devices by the native population, everyone at the Dodecahedron knew that was ridiculous; humans were far too primitive to have steam power, let alone nuclear weapons, and any analyst who suggested the data showed they had both plus internal combustion engines and heavier-than-air flight, and would likely have orbital rocket capability within the year…well, they learned quickly that nobody was interested in such nonsense, and it was probably best for their career that they focused on real issues that mattered.

The Gyfjon’s first – and to date only – captain, Teustus Zyn, sat behind his desk in the ready room admiring the view, when there was a chime.

“Come,” he said, and presently, his executive officer, Commander Jono Benasi, entered the room.

“Is now still a good time, sir?”

“Always time for my exec. Sit down, what’s the issue?”

Jono settled into the chair across from Zyn. “Sir, I’m sorry to bother you with this, but Risorora, Olusi and I have been going around on this and we’re not sure what to do.”

“Rule 87 of command…are we up to Rule 87?” Zyn asked.

“You told me back at Rule 42 that we weren’t supposed to keep track of the numbers literally,” said Benasi.

“So I did. Rule 87 of Command: If you can’t solve a problem, going to the next person up the chart is the right thing to do. They may tell you that it’s still your problem and that you need to solve it yourself, mind you, but they aren’t gonna be mad at you for asking.”

“Thank you, sir. I’d write that down, but Rule 2 was that you don’t need to write these down.”

“Jono, I appreciate that you listen. So what’s the issue?”

“Well, Crewmate Risorora said the new Tam security officer is having some trouble fitting in.”

“Well, that’s not news. They usually do. To be blunt, they shouldn’t be out here yet. They’re kids. Oh, don’t get me wrong, they’re gorram good – they make it out here, they’re capable of doing the job. But doesn’t matter how capable a kid is, they’re still a kid. They should be back dirtside snogging someone after school, thinking about where to go to college. Not deciding whether to take a kill shot. So go easy on him – or is this a her, or a they?”

“It’s a her, sir. Rixie Tam, JC1C.”

“Rixie, hm,” Zyn said, pulling her up on his terminal. His eyebrows shot up. “Braids. She’s Jotnar?”

“Apparently her parents were. She grew up in Chirae like the rest of them, but….”

“Where she grew up doesn’t matter. You talk to any Jotnar, they’ll tell you that. And even if it turns out she’s pure Aementi, she thinks her parents were Jotnar, and she’s decided that makes her one too. And she’s not going to be quiet about it, she’s going to be proud, and well she should be. But I think I’m beginning to see the problem.”

“It’s not that she doesn’t do her job. Hells, according to Risorora, she’s very good. A little headstrong, but I was too back when I was fresh out of the Academy. But you know how it is, it isn’t just about the job, it’s about getting along when you’re off duty too, and she’s…well, there haven’t been dust-ups, but there have been some words exchanged.”

“Hmpf. You know what I’m going to say next.”

“Aye, sir, and that was the first thing I said when Olusi flagged me down. And he said he’d talked with Risorora, and she’d already looked into it. And yeah, no question, nobody was overt about it, but there’s definitely some bigotry baked into it.”

“Gorram right there was. Between people who have issues with ‘Them Tams getting a shortcut’ and people who have issues with Jotunn generally…and let’s be honest, they’re usually the same gorram people…well, if she didn’t actually strike anyone, I think she probably deserves a bronze starburst for her fortitude.”

“It’s not…we’ve dealt with that. And Risorora already gave her one. But the problem is, she’s not engaging with anyone, even people who I know gorram well aren’t going to give her anything but a hearty hello and a shake of the wrist. It was a bad first impression, and it’s got her shields up. On duty she’s fine, but after…she’s doing her job, eating, and going back to her bunk. And she’s 16, so she’s in a solo bunk, so….”

“Yeah, that’s a good way to lose your mind halfway into your first posting. And also, an absolutely expected reaction from a 16-year-old. I’ve always said we shouldn’t put anyone younger than 17 on duty, and general rule should be 18. Anyhow, you’re looking for what, ideas to get her to the ship’s dance mixer or something? Find something for her to do with herself?”

“Well…she does have one thing she does participate in. We think. But it’s not really social, exactly.”

“You think?”

“Well, you know the ship has its Tol-Bot league, right?”

Zyn snorted. “Yeah, mighta heard something about that. Wait, she’s into Tol-Bot?” he said, looking back at her file, then pulling up another window. “No, not just into it…hells, won the Hoplite youth championship. No, won two championships. No, more…she won five? Starting at twelve?”

“I didn’t see that in her file.”

“It isn’t in her file. But I’ve got access to some things with AMBO. Hoplites play open within the group, register it with AMBO in case any of them ever decide to go pro. The points they earn in competition are counted toward their initial qualification. Given their training, a kid who wins a Hoplite title is probably good enough to at least play semi-pro. Someone who wins twice, or does it before they’re sixteen, well…they may not be Tribute-caliber, but they could get there with some training. You win at twelve, and keep winning…and frak me, don’t drop a round after you turn fourteen….”

“You are going to give me a straight answer about your ‘access to things with AMBO’ at some point, aren’t you?” Jono said, and for the first time in the conversation, Zyn laughed.

“When you’re given your own ship, I’ll answer the question. But I think you can probably reason it out, given that there’s one Tol-Bot player on the ship who occasionally calls out others who he thinks need to be taken down a peg, embarrasses them, then goes away.”

“We all love the Noble White. Kicked my arse to Hadia. And it’s impossible to connect that to anyone, he’s very very subtle,” Jono said, returning his captain’s grin. “And don’t worry, sir. I’m still hoping Lord Black will come back for one more Tournament of Champions, give Space Ace some real competition. I’m not going to do anything that would jeopardize that. Especially if it means someday, I can tell my kids that I played Lord Black and almost won, except for the four rounds I lost.”

“Hmm,” Zyn said. “Well, Lord Black would need a bit more work, I think, to get ready for the Tournament of Champions. He’s out of practice. So you think she’s playing Tol-Bot in the ship’s league?”

“Yeah, under the name ‘Wyndiss.’ Wyndiss Ro, you know…and she’s brand-new to the league, almost has to be her. But you know the league – there’s trash-talking, everyone pretty much has guessed who the others are, even Noble White. It’s mostly for fun. She wears a combat helmet and doesn’t say a gorram thing. So even if you’d think she’d socialize that way….”

“Ends up being just a combat sim, right,” Zyn said. He scratched at his chin. “What she needs is to be seen, and more than that, to feel seen. Not as a Tam, or a Jotnar, but as an officer who belongs on this ship. How is she?”

“Sir?”

“In matches? How is she?”

Jono leaned back. “She might be good enough to make Noble White break a sweat in a round or two. And I don’t say that lightly, I know he didn’t have to work against me.”

Zyn looked back at the AMBO files. “I can believe that. All right,” he said. “I know what to do. She needs some confidence, needs to know that someone on the ship respects her for what she can do, that they don’t care what her heritage is, that they care about who she is. In the arena, all competitors are equal, and whatever their character may be, they come in with no history but their play. And if she’s as sharp as she appears and as much a student of the game as she must be, she’ll know that if a certain player shows up and shows no quarter…that’s a sign of respect. So then. When’s the next scheduled match for Wyndiss?”

* * *

Rixie tried to keep her emotions in check as she stepped into the recreation suite. She had chosen a combat helmet as her mask, and she was thinking that she should go the rest of the way, just go into a combat suit. But having that hard exterior didn’t feel much like “Wyndiss Ro,” who should be as graceful and urbane as she is deadly.

Rixie didn’t feel graceful or urbane. She felt clumsy and stupid, and way out of her depth. It wasn’t that most of her crewmates weren’t okay – they were, except for a couple of jerks, and she’d been congratulated for keeping her temper there, so it wasn’t like they didn’t believe her. But she was struggling to adapt to being out here, alone. Yes, Lemm had messaged her, and she felt lost too, and that helped…a little. But not enough.

She hoped that whoever she was facing off would give her a challenge. Crushing them in Tol-Bot helped, a bit, but they didn’t take it seriously, not most of the time. And why would they? It was a rec league; they weren’t gunning for the Grand Tribute. They were trying to have fun, not trying to work out their anger. Not that Rixie knew she was trying to work out her anger; that epiphany would not come for many years, when that anger finally had left her, and she would tell a tiny human (whom she would love more deeply than she could have imagined loving anyone, and who would love her more than she ever could believe she deserved) that she didn’t need the sport any more.

For now, she loosened up, and waited for her opponent to show. “Nacelle.” Weird name. Anyhow….

The door to the competition suite opened, and a man’s voice said, “Nacelle has withdrawn for the evening, but if you don’t mind, I would take his place for a friendly. I am the Noble White. You are Wyndiss, no?”

Rixie turned, and her jaw dropped. The Noble White wore a color-inverted Lord Black costume, including the five stars on the helmet. The Noble White’s voice was an exact match for Lord Black’s, and anyone who had watched as much Tol-Bot as Rixie had could see that he moved into the room with the same languid grace of Lord Black.

This was Lord Black.

And more than that…this was Captain Zyn. Rixie knew Lord Black was Captain Zyn, it was an open secret in the Tol-Bot fandom. She would never ask of course, but this meant…she was being challenged by her Captain, who she hadn’t had a chance to meet yet…who also happened to be the greatest Tol-Bot player of all time.

Rixie’s anger curdled into raw nerves. But she forced herself into the character she’d been working on, the one that was silent, and composed.

Well, not entirely silent. She had turned vocalization distortion in the mask on, in the event she needed to say something. And so, in a deep bass that almost completely hid the quaver in her voice, she said, “I take any honorable challenger.”

Noble White – Lord Black – Captain Zyn nodded. “As does any honorable competitor. Four rounds, traditional order, computer simulation at level ten. The playoff, as per ship’s rules, is hand-to-hand combat. Are you ready, competitor?”

Rixie walked over to the controls nearest her. “I am, champion.”

“I claim no championship,” Noble White said.

“You have defeated every player on this ship,” Rixie replied. “You are this ship’s champion.” She swallowed hard, and forced herself to add, “For now.”

Teustus chuckled. “Well then, competitor. Defeat me, and I will bow down and call you champion. Let us begin.”

* * *

Four rounds later, neither Teustus nor Rixie were chuckling.

Rixie was drained – she had been pushed far harder than she’d ever dreamed she could be. He was so good! So many times, she tried to move a division or reposition a ship in a way she had before – she had always caught people unawares. But when she did, she’d find he had been waiting for her to do that, and that he had seen right through her feint. He had easily won the ground round, and it had taken all her skill to win the sea match-up. She’d lucked her way through the air round, but he had completely outclassed her in space. If she was honest, he’d outplayed her throughout the match; she’d been very lucky to force the draw.

Zyn, meanwhile, was not chuckling; he was beaming. She was so good! She wasn’t just good for a kid, or good for an amateur, or good for a Hoplite tourney player. She was a bit raw, but with some practice she could make a run to the Tribute, and frankly, he thought she could probably hold her own right then if dropped into competition with Space Ace or the Selana Kid. Hells, he hadn’t gone easy on her; she’d taken two rounds off him by simply beating him in them, and while he was rusty, he was still Lord Black. And though he knew she probably thought she’d been lucky to win the air round, he also knew that it had been pure skill that had allowed her to get her two bombers through his defenses. She’d outmaneuvered him.

It had been a very long time since anyone had outmaneuvered him.

“We have played even,” he finally said. “We can settle this with combat, but I will offer you a draw.”

Rixie’s eyes went wide. A draw. With Lord Black. She could tell her kids, if she ever had them, that she’d played Lord Black to a draw. And she wouldn’t even be lying! Hells…she’d pushed her captain to a draw. He was offering her a draw. And the only alternative was to literally fight her captain, albeit in agreed-upon competition. That would be ridiculous.

“I choose combat,” she said.

“Very well,” Zyn said. Two small chambers opened, each with a combat suit inside. “Don your suit. Exit when you are ready.”

Five minutes later, they began to spar.

Ship’s combat rules were best-of-three-falls. Rixie knew that she’d have the advantage of youth, but that Zyn likely was stronger, even if he was well into his fifties. She tried to move frenetically, forcing him to expend energy, but he’d expected that, and he swept her legs. She barely avoided the immediate pin, but once they’d gone to ground he’d managed to get her.

Down 1-0, she changed tactics; he was too good to fool. She’d have to beat him straight up. This time, she focused on his moves, on sizing him up. She caught the opening, barely, and managed to win a surrender position.

“One last offer of a draw,” Zyn said, as they squared up, 1-1.

Rixie swallowed hard. It was so tempting to say yes.

“I would rather say I lost to a worthy opponent than to draw without playing it out,” she replied.

“I am unsurprised,” Zyn said. “I feel the same way.”

Falls in hand-to-hand combat typically take between fifteen and thirty seconds.

When Zyn finally pinned Rixie, sixteen minutes later, both felt very much like they were ready to sleep for a few months.

* * *

Rixie finished dressing; she had been too exhausted to sleep well, but it was time for her rotation on weapons. She would be good to go; youth allowed for a good deal.

She had spent much of the night replaying the match in her head. She was not happy that she’d lost, of course; it was an honor to lose, but it would have been much more of an honor to win. And part of her wondered if the captain would be thrilled with the upstart, snot-nosed kid who’d refused to take his offer of a draw, whatever he’d said about agreeing with her.

She opened her door, and had no sooner turned the corner when the ship’s executive officer stopped her, with two others in tow.

“There’s the woman of the hour!” he said. “Well done, Ms. Tam!”

“Sir?” Rixie said, confused.

“Oh, right, yes, yes, kayfabe. I should say, ‘Ms. Tam, did you happen to see the ship’s league Tol-Bot match between Wyndiss and Noble White? The whole ship is buzzing about it.’”

Rixie swallowed. “I…I mean, no, a Tol-Bot match? I…know there’s a league, but….”

“Well, usually it’s just a league, but when Noble White plays…I mean, I’m not saying it’s the captain, but we all think it is. Everyone who’s not on duty tunes in to watch him play. And usually destroy people. I have a Tol-Bot persona, he played Noble White, got creamed. And then this newbie, Wyndiss…she takes him to the absolute limit! Gorram near had him in the third fall!”

Another young weapons officer, who’d been tagging along, said, “Did you see the air round? That was brilliant. She should have been wiped out, and she got the drop on Lord Black – I mean…well, you know.”

“Eh, that was luck,” Rixie said. “I…uh…assume, anyhow.”

“Well, when you’re off-duty, Ms. Tam, I would ask that you join us on the Observation Deck. Captain has said that he wants to buy you a drink.”

“Um…sir, I’m technically…I’m underage,” Rixie said.

“You’re a two-square on a starship who just stood toe-to-toe with Teustus Zyn. Ms. Tam, I’m not going to enforce age restrictions on you.”

Rixie thanked the exec, and headed off to her station; once there, she found that she was accepting a steady stream of not-officially-for-you-but-we-saw-Wyndiss-and-gorram-that-kid’s-good congratulations. And then, per the request of the exec, she headed down to the observation lounge.

She was surprised to see it empty, and for one agonizing moment, she thought that perhaps it had all been too good to be true, that it had been a joke on her. But then, the door slid open, and a robed man stood behind her.

He was wearing all black. Except for the five stars on the helmet.

He paused for just a moment, removed his mask, and said, “I, Lord Black, am Teustus Zyn. I would have you know who I am.”

Rixie’s eyes went wide. “I…I am Wyndiss, champion. Captain. Sir.”

Zyn chuckled. “I think your character might not be a ‘Wyndiss,’ with due respect. Too quiet. You wore the black metallic mask; perhaps something playing off the color or material. The Metal Marauder, or something. You’ll work it out. They always do.”

He took a few steps down, and grasped her wrist. “So are you going to go professional?”

“I…I mean, I’ve thought about it, but I’m in the corps, so….”

“There’s a military qualifier, and with the match record I just filed for you, you qualify for entry if you want it. Officially, it’s a draw with Lord Black in a friendly; you don’t have to play off friendlies, after all, unless you want to. And frankly, even if I’d entered it 3-2 zz, you’d have earned enough ranking points to qualify just by taking two rounds.”

“I…still, sir, my duty….”

“Oh, you’ll do your duty, Ms. Tam, I’m sure of that. You’ve received excellent marks for that. And now that you’re known as the crewmate who gorram near took out the Old Man, you’re not going to pay for a drink during the rest of your time on this ship. Bu you can still play. Of course, you don’t have to go pro if you don’t want to. The universe is big, and you’ve got a lot of time to figure out which star to set your course for. Which reminds me; where do you want to go with your career?”

Rixie swallowed. “Sir…honestly, I always knew I’d get here…but I never really knew what comes next. I just…there are a lot of people out there in the Empire who need protecting. I can be someone who protects them. I’d like that.”

“You’ll be good at it, Ms. Tam. Now, if you’ll excuse me, others will be along in a few moments, and I would like to change back into regulation uniform. But I do hope that you will allow me to give you some pointers should you decide to pursue a professional career in Tol-Bot. And I think it should be obvious, but given that I am in command of this vessel…you can do that, and have a long and noble career in the military, too.”

“I’d like that, sir. I love the game, but…it is a game.”

“That it is. Here in the real world…that’s where the real challenge is.”