Bionica: Origins

Chapter One

I walk through the compound to the training room, hoping for something exciting. Even if nothing's there, at least I get to knock the crap out of some dummies. I'm working for the rebels as a combat specialist, meaning when people threaten my team I get to beat them up. My team is just a small part of a bigger picture, fighting against the government. When I was about four, a nuclear war started because the American government has been self-centered for as long as I can remember. They started assuming power in third-world countries. They'd gotten through most of Africa, the Caribbean, and Eastern Europe before they decided to move on to the big dogs. They demanded the south of Russia and got nuked for it. Our thick-headed government hid underground and the rest of us tried not to die from radiation sickness. That's how I lost my parents and my brother. While the president hid, a tech mogul called Icharus Steele started developing cyborg technology that filtered radiation out of the body. It all turned out to be a hoax; Steele forced exoskeletons on citizens and turned them into his own personal army. Now I'm doing what I can to end this war before anyone else suffers from the government's neglect.

I finally come up on the training room. On opening the door, I see two other combat specialists duking it out in the arena. From the gym-like area with punching bags and kickboxing stuff, a window opens onto a coliseum-style arena, with one row of seats going all the way around the floor. Right now I can pick out five of my team members in the stands while the fight goes on. Farthest to my left is Siren. She's pretty much the leader, but she also takes on the role of medic. Next to her is Sprocket. He's the weapons expert, and he and Siren have become increasingly attracted to each other since I met them. Beside him is Crescent, our resident techie and Siren's fraternal twin sister. She's sitting by Eclipse, her best friend and brilliant strategist. Furthest right is Glitch, expert intelligence officer. Each has his own dark side, but I owe my life at least once over to all of them. There's just one team member I don't see, but I'd rather not think about him. So I put my bag down and start taping up my hands. I'm about to throw my first punch when-

"Yeah, baby!"

And just when I was having a relaxing afternoon.

I look out into the arena and see him walk out so overconfidently it makes me want to puke. The final member of my team: Ratchet, our heavy machinery expert. He's got a grenade launcher in one hand, and the other one is at his ear, begging for applause from the few dawdling spectators. The biggest ladies' man since Flynn Rider is about to take the stage against the scrawniest kid since Peter Parker. This kid has nothing but a couple gauntlets, loaded shells in a belt around his waist. Good luck to him; even with the training safety on, Ratchet's been known to break bones with the shock waves from his explosives.

I decide to go watch. It might be worth a laugh. But by the time I've taken my seat, the kid's already on the ground and begging for mercy. Ratchet lets him go and he scampers toward the exit. I roll my eyes and walk towards another entrance, thinking I'm about to do something crazy.

"C'mon, baby! Who's next?" Ratchet's yelling across the arena. "What? No one dares to face the Terror of the Night?"

"I don't think anyone's ever called you that in your life, Ratchet!" I hear Eclipse shout from the stands.

"I don't think you've ever witnessed a fight between me and another human!" Ratchet yells back. "C'mon, who wants to do battle with this formidable foe?" He kisses his biceps. Jeez, that gets me.

"Since when have you ever been formidable?"

Ratchet turns and looks at the tunnel that the voice came from. The tunnel I'm standing in. I walk into the arena, holding a folded-up metal rectangle Crescent just built for me. The few people in the arena start chanting my name: "Gayge! Gayge! Gayge!" I stare right into Ratchet's eyes. "You think you're so tough? Let's find out!"

Ratchet smiles. "You want me to take it easy on you, Angel-Face?"

"If you live through this fight, I'll make sure those pickup lines are as rough as your fighting style!" The crowd of about ten oohs at my admittedly awesome comeback.

"I guess that's a no, then," he replies. "Can I at least ask what you're fighting with?"

I smirk at him. "You'll just have to find out, now won't you?" I signal to the referee that we're ready to begin the fight. He throws his hand down and blows the whistle as Ratchet loads his grenade launcher. And here comes his classic you're-about-to-die phrase, "Say hello-"

"Say hello to my little friend!" he says just as I'm thinking it. I watch the grenade fly at me and duck under my shield, activating the explosive and throwing the shockwave back in his face. As I somersault through the air I start expanding the rectangle, pulling it out until it's become a six-foot scythe, complete with a bright orange circuit board pattern and glowing plasma blade. Ratchet's eyes widen.

"I gotta admit, I'm impressed," he says. "But since when have you ever used a scythe?"

"Well, since when have you been so oblivious to your teammates?" I attack again as he jumps over my blade. I will admit, it's pretty hard to go on the offense when you're holding a 30, 40-pound hunk of metal and dodging a plasma blade. He rushes to the weapons rack and grabs a Medieval-era shield. I stifle a laugh at how ridiculous he looks.

"You wanna call a time-out? You can go find something more..." I giggle, "suited to your taste."

Ratchet looks at me. "Only if you need it, sweetheart."

I'm so busy reprimanding him I don't see the grenade come at me. It hits me in the abdomen, and I go flying back. Dazed, I get up and look at him. "Well, I guess I never said anything about a fair fight."

"This is true. Want me to make sure you know it's coming this time?"

"Fire away."

I'm ready this time. It comes at me and I fold up the scythe, riding the shockwave to the wall and springing off it towards him. I'm swinging at his side, but he sees me and knocks me aside with the shield. My blade yanks it out of his hands and I pose epically on one knee, my scythe over my shoulder, as the shield clatters to the side. I hear Ratchet let out a "Whoa..." and I smirk. The one upside of being a girl fighting a flirt is that you can use your amazingness to distract an opponent. Quicker than he can move, I'm flying at him, my long brown braid whipping behind me. I kick him square in the chest and position my scythe blade right where his neck will land. The next thing I know he's on his stomach, my foot's on his back, and if my blade weren't on safety mode his head would be gone.

He looks up at me and I pat his head with my right hand. "I think we can call that a win, don't you?" I say, stepping off him.

He gets up. "Fair enough. But I have the right to a rematch!"

"In your dreams, lady-killer!" I call back as I walk out of the arena.