The Blade and the Cycle

Actium plucks his rapier from it sconce and relishes the silty sound its blade makes along the wood. It's light and beautifully balanced in his grip. Time to take his best girl out dancing.

He looks back toward the window.

>Back flip out of the window.

One of the things they can't teach you is you have to make an entrance.



Actium lands lightly on his feet in front of a shocked squadmate. He straightens.

"Shall we, ladies and gents?"


Actium saunters to the front of the section, where the best fighters lead the group. Preveza nudges him. "Hey, Acty."
"Hi, Prev."
"Nice backflip. You and your flair for the dramatic."
"Says the ringmaster out there who nearly woke Grippa up."

"How do, Actium," says Horius. He's a full head taller than Actium and with a blade as wide as his forearm. One of the best tacticians in the platoon, though you wouldn't know it by his looks. "Study hard?"
"I am, as ever, the consummate scholar."

"Grippa's going to be pissed." Dia catches up with everyone else. She has to take about two strides for every one Horius does. Possibly the only better fencer than Actium, Dia, and very serious about the craft. She's along mostly for the duels. People say a lot of things about the proclivites of stereotypical pink Qal, and to the frustration of everyone, Dia defies them all.

"He won't be if I come back with a conquest or two beneath my belt," says Actium. "Not that kind, Horius. Quit your elbowing."

"Where to, PFC?" asks Kepral. He wears his harness and gloves on the outside, because it 'chafes during the exchanges, don't you know, old boy.' On the prissy and eccentric side, is Kepral, but you won't find a better, quicker scout. "Drinks at the Death's Head? Fights? Ice cream parlor? The streets are ours. Oh, and Gelton's. And Aquinna's. Word is they're out and about too, quayside."