Blink: Interdiction (Book 4)

06

The ten day voyage from Beltock's Wake felt like an eternity. The quarters they had been given aboard the Iron Glacier were comfortable enough, but thirty Blink operatives tip-toeing around a full regiment of colonial marines made for a tense atmosphere. Most of the marines viewed the Blink teams as groups of children. The operatives regarded the military men and women as little more than gun-toting brutes, lacking any finesse or creativity.

All things considered, it made for a frosty trip. Amber passed the time as best she could, spending long hours in the Iron Glacier's immense training bay, and she was far from alone. At any one time half the Blink operatives on the ship could be found down here, their nature making them unwilling – even unable – to sit in once place for too long. She stepped toe to toe with Idas as the burly operative helped her practice her hand-to-hand combat drills. After their close quarters encounter on board Theodore Logan's experimental ship, she had worked hard at the discipline that many operatives viewed with secondary importance.

Along with them, however, keeping a wary eye on the interlopers into their domain, were a large contingent of marines taking part in much more official, scheduled training. Sergeants thundered orders to their platoons, and the whole space rang with grunts, yells and thumps. Hulking, heavily muscled men and hard-framed, sinewy women trained in pairs, or squads, some fighting through hand to hand drills, others training with mock target ranges and sim-rifles.

Their training, even at a glance, showed the disconnect between Blink operatives and their military counterparts. In fire training they aimed to kill. While Blink fire training was nominally for self-defence purposes, the marines on the Glacier had been trained to inflict lethal wounds. Amber watched as they created overlapping kill-zones between pairs, moving with rigid purpose that she found impressive.

In the hand to hand drills they pulled no punches. Bodies smashed into the training mats, the sounds echoing through the bay and she saw more than one marine have to step out to have cuts and grazes bandaged by the medical officers who prowled the deck. Occasionally there were more serious incidents – some individuals were escorted from the bay entirely to be taken to the transport's formidable medical bay.

Amber knew that the military training regimens were harsher than Blink's, but this felt over the top. Training so hard that you risked serious injury before a major operation seemed ... counter intuitive. Then again, she supposed, if you got used to getting hurt in training, the real thing might not be such a shock.

With an effort, she pulled her attention away from the other occupants of the training bay and back to Idas. They reset for another quick spar. She wore her simple training gear – a black tank-top and leggings, along with trainers and a set of padded gloves and elbow guards. Her normally flowing black hair was tied back in a ponytail to keep it out of her face during their training.

He gave her a nod and she darted forward. With speed that belayed his size, Idas pivoted away from her attempted arm hook. She in turn skipped back out of reach when he ducked and surged toward her, trying to wrap an arm around her leg and flip her. Her quickness held her in good stead as she jumped back and circled, trying to find another opening.

The next time Amber made a move, however, Idas read her attack and caught a hold of her wrist. That was all the other operative needed to yank her forward and flip her head over heels. She thudded to the matt with a gasp of surprise, staring up at the white lights of the training bay ceiling.

"Maybe next time," Idas chuckled, smiling mischievously as he offered her hand up.

She accepted his hand, letting him pull her to her feet with a single powerful tug.