When the plan isn't enough

CHAPTER 14 — When the Plan Isn't Enough
Garpon fighting seriously was something else entirely.
Not faster in the sense of moving more times per second. Faster in the sense that the space between his intention and his action had disappeared completely. There was no telegraphing. No fraction of a second where the body announces what it's going to do before doing it.
Zarpon had taught Marek to read that fraction. With a serious Garpon, there was nothing to read. Only consequences.
The first real exchange lasted less than ten seconds.
Garpon went for Zarpon first. Zarpon blocked the first strike. He partially deflected the second. The third he didn't manage to block.
The crimson impact on Zarpon's torso was different from the previous ones. More concentrated. With a precision that didn't seek to knock down but to interrupt. Zarpon wasn't thrown back this time. He doubled over. His knees hit the rock.
Marek attacked from the left with his full aura. Garpon turned with his forearm. The block wasn't technical. It was a wall. Marek's yellow aura collided with Garpon's crimson forearm, and the shockwave threw Marek back three meters.
He landed on his feet. Barely. His arms absorbed part of the impact, but the rest traveled up his shoulders to his neck with an intensity that made him blink involuntarily.
"More power," Garpon said without looking at him. "Less control."
It wasn't advice. It was an observation. The kind made when cataloging someone.
---
Sira changed position. She had been moving on the right flank since the start. Occupying attention. Dividing Garpon's monitoring.
But now she understood something the plan hadn't fully anticipated. Garpon could monitor her, fight Zarpon, and assess Marek simultaneously without any of the three suffering for the other two. Her presence on the flank cost him nothing real.
She needed to change that.
She waited for the moment when Garpon was oriented toward Marek. And she attacked.
Not with force. Sira didn't have Marek's strength or Zarpon's experience. She attacked with the movement Zarpon had taught her. Toward the position of advantage after the strike. A low strike to the back of Garpon's right knee with all the speed she had, then immediate lateral movement toward the opposite side.
The strike connected. Garpon's knee gave half a centimeter.
Garpon turned. His crimson eyes found Sira. This time not with monitoring. With real attention.
"Ah," he said.
Sira was already moving. Garpon launched a low-intensity crimson pulse toward where she had been. The rock where Sira had stepped fractured. Sira was no longer there. But the pulse passed within a meter of her. She felt the heat on her right arm through the armor.
She kept moving. Her heart beat so loudly she could barely hear her own footsteps.
---
Arlo had a problem.
Garpon knew he existed. From the moment the device had interrupted his armor, the warrior's crimson eyes found the shadows where Arlo moved every few seconds. Not with the intention of attacking him yet. With the intention of knowing where he was.
Arlo couldn't be effective if Garpon knew where he was. He needed to move. The problem was that moving in the second layer without being seen required knowing the terrain. And Arlo had been in the second layer for less than twenty minutes. Garpon had been there for years.
He thought. Fast.
The west side of the second layer had a series of rock formations that created a small labyrinth of shadows and corridors between the stones. He hadn't mapped it completely, but he had seen enough when descending to know it existed. If he got there, Garpon couldn't monitor him as easily.
The problem was getting there without Garpon seeing him move.
He waited for the moment when Garpon was fully oriented toward Marek. And he ran.
He didn't run well. Arlo wasn't Sira. His movement wasn't silent or elegant. It was functional. The kind of running of someone who understands the physics of movement better than his body executes it.
He reached the rock formations. Pressed against the largest rock. Breathed. Looked toward the center of the second layer.
Garpon was looking toward where Arlo had been a second earlier. Then he swept the shadows with his eyes. He didn't find him. His crimson eyes stopped on the west rock formations for two seconds. Then he returned to Marek.
Arlo released the air he had been holding. He looked at the device in his hand. He had one charge left. One. He had to choose the right moment.
---
Zarpon stood up for the third time.
Each time he took a little longer. Not because his will failed. Because his body accumulated the impacts in a way that will couldn't fully compensate for.
Garpon looked at him.
"How long has it been since you last truly fought?" he said.
"Six years," Zarpon said.
"It shows."
"Yes," Zarpon admitted.
It wasn't defeat. It was honesty.
Garpon looked at him with something that wasn't exactly respect but wasn't contempt either.
"You've trained the three of them," he said. "It shows in how they move." A pause. "Especially the girl."
Zarpon didn't respond.
"Three days," Garpon said. "How long did you have to prepare them?"
"Three days," Zarpon said.
Garpon processed that.
"Three days," he repeated. "And yet they're here."
"And yet they're here," Zarpon said.
The warrior looked at him for a moment. Then he attacked again.
---
Marek took the next impact on his left shoulder.
The armor absorbed what it could. He absorbed the rest. He fell to his knees. The yellow energy flickered around his body with the irregularity of something being demanded beyond its comfort.
He looked at his hands. The aura was still there. Irregular but present.
He thought of the green valley. Of the mornings training alone. Of three years practicing for something without knowing what that something was.
This was that something.
He stood up.
Garpon looked at him.
"You've already spent more than half your energy," he said. "I can see it in the aura."
Marek didn't respond.
"If you keep this up," Garpon continued, "in ten minutes you'll have nothing left. And then..."
"I already know," Marek said.
Garpon stopped.
"And you're still on your feet?"
"Yes."
Garpon looked at him. That same evaluation as always. Updating.
"Why?"
Marek thought of the honest answer. Thought of Joe. Of the farm. Of Zarpon on his knees but getting up every time. Of Sira moving even though the heat of the crimson pulse had passed within a meter of her. Of Arlo in the shadows with a single charge left in the device, waiting for the right moment.
"Because I'm not alone," he said.
Garpon looked at him for a long moment. Something crossed his expression. So fast it was almost invisible. Then it disappeared.
"It's not enough," Garpon said.
And he attacked.
---
The next five minutes were the hardest.
Garpon wasn't using his full power yet. But what he used was enough for the team to feel the ground giving way beneath their feet.
Zarpon took a strike that left him against the rock wall, unable to get up for the first time. Not unconscious. But with no reserves left for the next immediate move.
Sira dodged three pulses, but the fourth grazed her right shoulder with enough energy that the pink armor completely stopped functioning in that area. Her right arm responded. The protection was gone.
Marek blocked with his aura, but the block cost him more than he could afford at this point in the battle. The yellow energy flickered with an irregularity it hadn't had before.
The three were on their feet. But the margin was narrowing with each exchange.
Garpon looked at them. At the three. Then toward the west rock formations.
"I know where you are," he said aloud, not addressing anyone in particular.
Silence.
"The device you have," Garpon continued, "has one charge left. I saw it in the first use. The architecture of that type of technology is limited without access to advanced charging systems."
Silence.
"If you use it now," he said, "you'll interrupt my armor for four seconds. But you'll be in the center of the second layer with no cover. And four seconds isn't enough for what you need to do with them."
Silence.
"If you don't use it," he continued, "what's left of your team won't last much longer."
Marek looked toward the west rock formations. Arlo was there somewhere in the darkness. With a decision that Garpon had just put on the table with all the coldness in the world.
The silence of the second layer waited.

END OF CHAPTER 14