Codi didn't really consider herself to be a superstitious person. She didn't indulge in traditions; didn't place undue value on particular calendar dates like birthdays and new years. However, this was one tradition she could happily get behind. Every year in the week's layover before the Gauntlet, the fighters who'd made the final team convened to celebrate and watch the final rankings being declared by the ever-watchful media and their cadre of experts.

This aspect of the Gauntlet was all new to Codi. Her old academy had been such a backwater minnow that no-one paid any attention to them until they started causing havoc in the contest itself. She had since learned that prior to the contest, the formidable army of analysts released a ranking list of the top fifty fighters, and Battlecast always featured heavily.

So the tradition had been established that the lucky graduates of Battlecast academy would assemble; congratulate each other, watch the ratings come in, and get well and truly drunk.

Codi sat in the comfortable back seat of a sky-lane taxi along with Ripple and Leela, watching the glittering lights of the city flash by. For a change she'd actually made a bit of an effort and opted not to turn up in her default attire of hooded top and leggings. It had been Ripple, of all people, who'd talked her round to the idea.

So now she wore a dress, a tightly fitted pine-green garment that left her shoulders bare and came down to just above her knees. She still wore a set of opaque black tights beneath the dress, but she had also accepted an offering of jewellery. Two sapphire studs shone against her earlobes, glinting in the night-light of Minneapolis Saint Paul.

She shifted slightly in her seat, hearing the clunk of the black heeled shoes she wore against the floor of the sky car. Heels – now there was a novelty she'd never indulged in back on Kantha. The old Codi James probably would have punched the new one in the face on sight, but she was happy, at least for tonight, to leave that violent, confrontational part of her to one side and just have fun. It had been a long time since she'd had a day to just enjoy. She remembered only a few hours ago looking at herself in the mirror while Ripple fussed and fiddled, and realising that when taken to task about it, she actually could make herself fairly presentable.

Around her neck was clipped her silver locket, the one thing that linked to the life she'd left behind, the last trace she had of parents that she now barely remembered. For the longest time she had worn it out of sight, tucked beneath her clothes, but today she decided that it paid greater tribute to have it on display for all to see.

A sudden realisation slammed into her like a cold breeze as she stared out of the window, absently twisting the locket between her finger and thumb. Her parents would never know, never see what their daughter had achieved. Never. It was something you wanted, wasn't it? To have your parents be proud of you? Codi would never get that chance, that validation. She had nobody.

Tears that she'd been holding back for years welled in her eyes and she shook her head, forcing those thoughts away. Tonight was a happy night and she wasn't about to spoil it for herself or anyone else. One trickle escaped to slide down her cheek, however, and she sniffed, quickly swiping it away.

But not quickly enough.

"Are you...are you okay?" Leela asked, looking at her in disbelief.

Codi smiled through shining eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, but she heard the wobble in her own voice. "Sorry, it's just...my life's been a bit of a rollercoaster. Now that we're here, going to a party, no responsibility – I've never had this before."

The younger girl looked aghast. "Never?!"

"Never."

"Then you're going to enjoy it more than anyone," Ripple interjected from the opposite side of the taxi without even looking over. "Relax and unwind. We'll make sure you have a good time." That glimmer of a smile hovered on her face as she continued. "You'd be surprised how good a party Bruno can throw."

Codi grinned at that. If her normally emotionless companion was looking forward to it, who was she to argue?

The ride to Bruno Varlin's apartment didn't take long, and when they saw it Codi sat up in her seat, eyes wide as she stared.

"That's where he lives?!"

Ripple smirked. "Not bad, eh?"

"I'll say!"

The building looked like a diamond spear, glittering on all sides from a combination of the lights from its interior and the flow of passing sky cars. The whole district of the city blazed with light and life – she could see bars suspended on precariously overhanging platforms, see the people seething and flowing within them. Even from their height in the sky car she could hear the thumping of music bleeding up through the air.

Their vehicle started to climb, ascending toward the apex of the diamond tower. A landing pad bloomed with red light in readiness to receive them, and Codi saw small, ant-like figures moving around on it. Another sky car took off, blazing away into the distance as they came in to land. There was a small bump upon arrival, then the side door opened and the three girls piled out onto the landing pad.

The crisp, clean air rushed into Codi's lungs and she inhaled a steadying breath, doing her best to stay balanced on the heels as she followed Ripple and Leela toward the entrance to Bruno Varlin's home. Her eyes wandered around the glittering skyline for a moment before she turned them forwards.

A hulking figure stood greeting the guests, one by one like a doorman. A figure she knew all too well.

When she saw Varlin a strange rush of emotions exploded within her. This man, for a few short weeks, had been her nemesis. That was almost a year ago now, but their fight in the Gauntlet final had been etched into history. She remembered each hit, each jarring impact as he knocked her to the ground. And she remembered being the first person in the tournament who managed to return the favour.

Part of her hated him. This was a young man who out of spite had hospitalised Kye, to make some kind of point that to this day she still hadn't figured out. At the same time, she felt oddly connected to him. Their paths had been so different and yet they'd ended up on the same stage, in the same ring, fighting for the same prize. He hadn't changed much in their time apart, still built like a piece of heavy machinery, his shaven head glinting in the light.

All in all, she didn't really know how to react.

She let the others go first, watching as Ripple exchanged a hug with the hulking Battlecast talisman. Then Leela approached; the pair shook hands – exchanged a flurry of words that Codi didn't hear.

Then it was her turn.

If Varlin felt any of the same misgivings about her, he didn't show it. When he spotted her he instantly let out a low chuckle of recognition. His cobalt blue eyes pierced out at her from his cragged, rough face and he was clad in a smart, jet black suit and shirt. Coupled with his brutish appearance, it didn't look quite right.

"Well, well, well, Brax-Delta!" he exclaimed, striding forward and extending a massive, calloused hand. "It's been a long time."

Codi hesitated for an instant, and then accepted his hand, shaking gingerly. "Yes it has." A faint smile slithered across her face. "And I'm Battlecast now."

"Then you're alright by me," he declared and a manic grin burst over his rugged features. It occurred to Codi that he might already have been drinking, but that thought disappeared when her one-time enemy flung a heavy arm around her shoulders and guided her into the apartment.

"Only the best!" he shouted as they entered.

"ONLY THE BEST!" a thunderous, albeit slightly disjointed echo crashed back down the corridor in response like a tidal wave.

And then they emerged into the expanse of Varlin's apartment. The ceiling towered twenty feet above them, held together by a crossed pair of gleaming metal supports. Music poured from speakers all around the room in a low, pleasant rumble. Lights flashed and Codi found herself looking at a dozen of her team-mates. They raised glasses and bottles in acknowledgement, and she saw Leela and Ripple off to one side at a long bar, both beaming smiles at her. Her mouth opened and closed stupidly as she tried to wrap her head around just what was happening.

Then she felt Varlin's hand on her back.

"C'mon, Brax-Delta," he said. "Let's get you a drink."

Only now did she realise something about Bruno Varlin. A year ago she saw one dimension. She saw the wrecking ball, the gatekeeper; the thug. Now she was looking through a very different window. The kids at Battlecast loved him, and in his own way he seemed to love them too.

Dumbly, Codi let him guide her to the bar where her friends were waiting. When he asked her what she wanted she drew a blank, and stuttered out about what he would recommend. A moment later a long tall glass filled with an electrifyingly blue liquid was in her hands. Varlin left her, returning to the door to great the stragglers.

"You look like someone just tazed you," Leela giggled. "You okay?"

"I..." Codi shook her head, smiling. "I guess I just wasn't expecting that."

"If you're one of us then the past is the past," Ripple told her. "Bruno isn't going to hold a grudge – you shouldn't either."

"I don't!" she said quickly. "I just...this probably sounds weird to you guys."

"Try me."

"It feels like I'm home."

Ripple shrugged. "Maybe you are."

"Maybe." Codi looked at the other girl for a moment and then took a huge gulp of the blue alcohol. It tasted like bottled lighting, tearing down her throat and sending a tingling sensation through her limbs. For a second she felt light-headed, blinking wide-eyed.

"Wow," she gasped. "That's got a hell of a kick!"

"You did better than me," Leela laughed. "It's called Glitch. I got one sip of that stuff and I nearly passed out." Her young friend grabbed her by the arm. "C'mon you two! This is meant to be a party!" And with that they were launched into the fray.

Most of the Gauntlet team had already arrived, and the rest weren't long in coming. Bruno Varlin hurled each and every one of them into the thick of the celebrations, his wild attitude infectious. Codi found herself exchanging congratulations and playful barbs in equal measure with people she'd barely spoken to in their training.

Bounced and flowed between small groups, joining forces for a few minutes of conversation before dispersing and repeating the process all over again. By the time everyone had arrived Codi had already polished off one glass of Glitch and was halfway through her second. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to disregard responsibility so freely.

They still had an hour before the rankings kicked off, so in that time she got down to indulging herself for the first time in a long time. She'd returned to the bar to get a third drink when she heard a familiar voice from over her shoulder.

"Well, what do you know?"

Codi smiled wryly and turned. Sure enough, there was Gareth, a bell-shaped bottle of alcohol in one hand, the other jammed into the pocket of his aquamarine trousers. His attire was actually fairly restrained: a long sleeved top made of a strange brassy material she didn't recognise and a gleaming silver chain hanging around his neck. The right side of his face bore some kind of temporary tattoo – at least she assumed it was temporary – a black ink stencil in the shape of a roaring dragon head. To her surprise, it actually suited him.

"Well, hello there." She raised her glass to him.

"It figuratively kills me to admit it, but you scrub up pretty well."

Codi stifled a laugh. "Err, thanks? I guess you've looked worse."

Gareth grinned. "I don't really do formal."

"Me neither."

"I'll drink to that." He took a slug from whatever it was he was drinking and when he took the bottle away his grin had softened into a smile. "You know, when you first walked into Battlecast, I hated you."

"No kidding?" She cocked a mischievous eyebrow. "And how about now?"

"Well, I know I can be a scud sometimes, but I can admit when I'm wrong." He took another drink as though he was trying to cleanse the words from his mouth. "We're lucky to have you."

Codi couldn't resist. "How much have you had to drink tonight?"

"Oh, shut up and take a compliment. Before I take it back."

"Too late." She clinked her glass with the neck of his bottle. "But thanks."

"Yeah, well I'll deny it in a tribunal," he chuckled. "C'mon. You ever play Sprendle before?"

She looked at him as though he were insane. "Play what?"

"It's just a game," he laughed.

"The last game I played with you, you knocked out one of my teeth," she reminded him.

"Don't worry, this one's not dangerous. Well, so long as you're not planning on driving a sky-car home yourself." He raised both eyebrows invitingly. "All you need is a full glass."

"Ah." She turned her drink backwards and forward between finger and thumb. "Well I've got that covered."

"Then what are we waiting for? C'mon, Ripple and Chris have already got the table keyed."

He led her into an adjoining room where the music was slightly quieter and inside were Ripple, Leela and Chris, gathered around a hexagonal shaped table with a holographic display.

Gareth gestured for her to sit down. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm sure you'll pick up the rules."

"I'm a quick learner." She sat down and took long drink.

Life was pretty good right now.

*

It was time for the rankings.

Codi settled herself on left side of the truly enormous couch that had been positioned facing the tele-screen. Others piled in around her for the prime real estate, some sitting on the arms or lounging against the back rest. Ripple and Chris arrived together, right in the centre, jamming her sideways.

With a grunt of effort she slung her legs up onto Gareth's lap to make some more space and leant her head against his shoulder, clutching her newly filled glass in a warm, alcohol induced fuzz. He hadn't exactly been lying about the game being simple. What he hadn't mentioned was that it relied almost entirely on luck, and apparently she'd used up her quota for the day, resulting in two more impromptu trips to the bar.

"Great. Now I'm a doormat," Gareth joked, casting a dubious eye over her. "You gonna make it through this?"

"Don't you worry about me," she returned, digging an elbow into his ribs. "Just worry about which one of us tops the table. Besides, you're the one who wanted to play that stupid game."

"Yeah, it's been a while since I saw a run of that bad luck." He shook his head at the memory. "Alright, Chris takes top spot – that or I'll get you another drink."

"You're on."

Then the vast screen in the wall flashed into life. The blaring drawl of a presenter's voice spilled out into the apartment and the spectators fell silent. The camera flicked to show the presenter himself – an individual in his late thirties with deep bronze hair and a matching goatee. The iron-coloured suit he wore hung perfectly on his heavy frame, and it occurred to Codi that the man might have been in the Gauntlet himself.

"It's that time of year folks," the presenter announced – below him on the screen a red bar appeared, emblazoned with: JASON BANNOCK – HEAD GAUNTLET CORRESPONDENT. "The trial tournaments are over and the final analyst scores have been released exclusively to Sol-Net. Now nothing stands between you, and me and the Gauntlet."

Codi could feel the excitement flowing through the room like a physical thing. The haze of the alcohol faded just a bit as she straightened up.

"It has been a long six months of training, but finally we are able to bring you the first look at who'll be taking to the stage, taking up the academy colours across the colonies. I now pass you over to my friend and colleague, Arbedan Garrick, to take you through the next stage of proceedings. Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone watching at home, here are the Gauntlet's top fifty fighters to watch!"

The screen flipped over to show another broad-shouldered man standing next to a huge, square screen currently displaying the Sol-Net logo: an orange spiral wrapped around a blue sphere. His features were weathered and Codi could see that his nose had been broken sometime in the past. Still, he offered a winning smile to the camera, showing off his crooked teeth.

"Thanks, Jason," Garrick said, nodding out of shot. "Now you know me, I can't stand suspense, so let's get this show on the road!"

He pressed a button on the remote in his right hand and the screen changed. The image came in with a spinning effect that made Codi's eyes hurt. The image of Garrick disappeared, letting the main attraction fill screens all across the galaxy. The profile of the first ranked fighter slammed into prominence.

Jake Toggett – Olympus Mons.

Codi didn't recognise him; didn't mark him as a threat, and a few derisive mutterings from the Battlecast faithful told her what the others thought of him. His analyst score was eighty, fairly average, Gareth assured her quietly.

They didn't have long to wait for the first Battlecast appearance. Two places up from Togget, Prissa Alder arrived in forty-eighth, to a thunderous roar from her team mates. Codi didn't really like the girl, but she joined in anyway. At Bruno's insistence, as was apparently tradition, she had to down her drink, and she did so with gusto.

The next ranker from Battlecast was Joshua Bayden in at thirty-five. Codi didn't know him well, but she knew he'd made a descent run at his rookie season the previous year, reaching the knockout stages. Two places up from him a familiar face flashed up.

It was the tattooed lunatic from Firequake: Rockie Thakker.

And so it went, more faces whirling and smashing into the screen, each one accompanied by a brief paragraph of analysis from Arbedan Garrick before they vanished. A couple of other Battlecast fighters showed up: more drinks went down, but it wasn't until the twentieth seed was announced that Codi sat up straight, her interest snared.

It was Max.

There he was, her old team-mate, looking out of the screen with an easy smile, clad in the iron grey of the Knossos City academy out of the Taurus Colonies. Just like her he'd taken an offer elsewhere, and it seemed like it was serving him well. From the photo it looked like he'd packed on some extra muscle since last year's outing, and arriving as the twentieth placed fighter going into the contest proved he hadn't been wasting his time.

Then he was gone. Codi allowed herself a smile. Good for him. She wondered if he was doing this too, sitting watching this whole media baiting exercise unfold. Would he be looking for her?

On the rankings went. Darien Fallow from Olympus Mons clocked in at a respectable twelfth. Cardle turned up in tenth, and seconds later Gareth happily emptied his bottle down his throat when his portrait turned up in ninth place, with an analyst score of eighty-eight. Codi reached up to hold the bottle in place as he gulped the contents down, raising his hands into the air to cheers of encouragement from the onlookers.

Now they were getting into the heavy hitters, and Codi recognised all of them as knockout contenders from last year. But more than that, she now knew – or at least hoped – she'd ranked in the top ten. She looked to her right where Chris and Ripple sat. The pair exchanged knowing looks. They were all thinking the same thing.

Who's at number 1?

Chris O'Leary's picture emerged in fifth place and although he was clearly disappointed, he pasted a smile across his face and knocked back the last of his drink. Straight after him in fourth, came Ripple. She held her glass high as the obligatory roar thundered around her, and then drained it in a single graceful motion.

Codi's heart was racing. There were two possibilities. Either she'd bettered them, or she hadn't been ranked at all.

Third place send a low rumble of boos and comical jeers through the Battlecast fighters as Dustin Morto's colossal frame came into focus. Out of everyone, he was still viewed as the one realistic challenger to Battlecast's dominance, which in this crowd made him public enemy number one.

Then it happened. Surreal and beautiful all at the same time, Codi watched as her own profile exploded into prominence across the screen, with a thumping score of ninety-six from the analysts. It was a good photo, not too much of a pose, just a smile that said 'are you ready for this?' She stared at her own image clad in the blue and cyan of Battlecast and the warm feeling in her chest bubbled up over. She tried not to well up as the whole room exploded with noise. She felt Gareth's arm around her shoulders – heard Leela screaming encouragement. Varlin's deep timbre cut through it, demanding that she do the decent thing and drink.

Laughing, as much to fight off tears as anything else, Codi threw her head back and gulped down a whole half glass of Glitch. Her whole body seemed to be on fire and she let the joyous feeling take hold. Slumping back in her seat, she wiped a hand across her eyes as the roaring gave way to good natured laughter, before finally subsiding.

But then she realised something. She was only second place.

So who was first? The big fighters from every major academy had already been scored and ranked – at least all those that she knew of. Yet one place remained unfilled.

It didn't stay that way for long. It happened almost in slow motion, the spinning tile on the screen of the top seeded fighter of the Gauntlet coming towards them. She stared, trying to focus as the ethanol made its presence known.

Then it arrived and no cheers or boos were offered from the Battlecast fighters. Standing before them was a tall, grim-faced fighter in jet black livery. He had a slim, straight nose, a thin-set mouth and two snake-like eyes that glared with focus. On the shoulder of his uniform a grey rising sun was emblazoned. On the profile his academy was listed as Black Horizon.

And his name was Keefer Darkwood.

Like a falling curtain the fug of the alcohol disappeared from Codi's mind and she leaned forward on the couch, eyes narrowing. She knew she was the only person in this room that would recognise him. Those companions she had shown the recording had brushed it off so briskly they didn't know what he looked like. Their mystery man was a mystery no longer. There he stood for all to see, first place, beating out everyone that meant anything to anyone. He stood next to an astonishing score of ninety-eight.

For a long moment no-one said anything. The assembled fighters from Battlecast exchanged baffled looks. Then, like a swelling storm the rumble of indignant shock started to build in the room. None of them could believe it.

Except her.

Codi crossed her legs, took a sip of her drink and relaxed back into the cushions, a strange sense of calm descending on her as the others burst into animated conversation. She was surprised – to claim anything else would've been a lie, but only she had known something like this might happen. For the last month this enigmatic stranger had been creeping around the edges of her mind; indefinable. Now she had his name.

And she also had her target.