The next day, Cody logged in early and practiced in Cyril's Virtual Training Space. This time, he went for a grassland terrain. This was to train his range-finding without clear circle marks on the floor.
He took the Uta Form stance again, stretched out his practice sword.
There. That was his reach. He scraped the grass with the tip of his sword.
He took a step forward. Reached out as far as he could and scraped the grass again. That was his extended reach. He stepped back, then lunged forward in a controlled half-jump. Reached out and scraped once more. That was his maximum reach. Or, in short, that was the farthest he could possibly hit in a single move considering his body and the length of his practice sword.
This, then was his 'range'. It was different for a slash than a thrust, but right now Cody was practicing short, quick jabs. He had to practice swings and full thrusts too, but for the moment, he had a very specific enemy in mind, an enemy that he wouldn't dare take a swing or a full thrust at. He wouldn't dare extend himself for so long, or take too much time in an attack. An enemy far larger and far stronger than himself, with fists heavy and strong enough to crush cars.
Either that, or a serpentine form big enough to crunch his head in one bite.
***
Tuesday morning at First Light was his first class in Rudimentary Telepathy.
In this era of Gate travel, Psionic abilities were not rare. Learning the usage of Psionic energy was a matter of training and practice. Just about everyone could do it if they had access to a good teacher with some time and effort. While just about every human had at least a little Psionic ability, few had high levels of Psionic strength.
Among humans, official statistics claim that about one in a hundred would have enough Psionic strength to broadcast thoughts to entire groups at a time. About one in a thousand would be able to send images and memories from mind to mind. About one in a million had the power to cause illusions and hallucinations or to mess with dreams. About one in a hundred million could use Psionic energy to form substantial energy fields, like Psi Blades.
But if it was just sending mental messages from one mind to another, assuming both were intending to communicate discreetly, well, that was definitely within the scope of the common man. It was a useful if somewhat clumsy tool.
This was especially true in the GNF. Out in the Frontier, estimates tagged Psionics in the Galactic North Frontier to be easily thrice as common as the Core Worlds. More than half of the Top Hundred Psionics List of the last decade were from the GNF. One quarter more were from the Galactic North-East Frontier.
So Cody learned how to send Psionic messages, via one-to-one telepathy.
As for how to do it, exactly… if you want him to tell you, you'd have to pay fifty Academy credits.
What? Fifty? But Cody only paid forty! He took the class when it was on offer, 10 credits off!
But Cheryl insisted. Their instructor in this class was a small, breezy Floran teenage girl with a gentle temperament unless you argued back, in which case, it got explosive. She made all of them promise that if they were ever to share these techniques with anyone, they would charge them fifty credits as a base rate. New Student Intake discounts were subsidized by the Academy, so in Cheryl's case, she would still earn fifty credits per student, even though they only paid forty each.
"I'll give you a hint, Cody, since you're a fellow Floran." She added, as class was ending. "You should test your potential at an official institute and see if you can develop your Psionic abilities for advanced use. I suspect you might have quite a bit of potential with Psionics. A lot of Florans do. A lot of us even use Psionics in combat."
"How does it work in combat?" Cody asked.
"Generally speaking, most people use it as an extra option, a way to supplement their main combat style. At the very least, you might be able to distract your opponent." Cheryl explained. "But some few really powerful Psionics use it as their main combat line. For example, I have a friend named Sarai. Half the time, her opponents run away screaming without her having to even lift a finger. Of course, she says it's actually more tiring to make them hallucinate, but every enemy she ever had swears they'd rather brawl a guy twice their size than face Nightmare. Yes, that's her nickname and her call sign. She's also a pilot."
"Wow. Just how strong is she in Psionics?"
"Two months ago, she was rated a Class 6 Psionic. Even teacher Ilayn, the strongest Psionic Instructor in the Academy, is rated a Class 8."
"What about you?"
"I'm only a Class 3."
"And me?"
"You're not even rated yet."
Incidentally, as he and his classmates were leaving class for the day, Melinda and Laila arrived. "Hi, we're here for class! Has it already started?"
"It's… just ended." Cody gulped.
"What?!" Melinda's face fell.
"Melinda! Laila! Get over here, you're early!" Cheryl waved.
"But we just finished!" Cody protested.
"You did. They're just about to start." Cheryl said. "Yours was the boys class. Theirs is for girls. It's different."
"How is it different?"
"Girls think differently." Cheryl said mysteriously
"You taught us just fine."
"Yes, but I had to teach you differently." She said, and left it at that.
***
Paying for the class left Cody with 42 credits on hand and a debt of 100 credits to be paid by the end of the month.
"Why? Why did I ever buy those things at the Weekend Sale?" Cody held his head in both hands. "Boots, knee-guards, ring… all of it was useless! Even the sword mod…"
He had to get them back. Somehow. But he had to do it soon, before the roads became more and more dangerous.
Most importantly, he had to avoid dying. Putting aside concerns for village security, just for his personal finance alone, it wasn't worth dying just to retrieve 180 credits worth of gear. The last time he died, he already lost four hours and 100 credits. Four hours! He could have done two missions with that much time, and each Level 7 mission was worth 45 credits, all within the village, which meant little or no travel time. If he died a third time, what would the penalties be like? 5 hours, and more than 100 credits? That loss would certainly be more than 200 credits worth. Definitely not worth it for his lost gear.
But… but if he didn't get back his gear… how was he to level up? The Advancement Mission was still a Supply Run for Scrap. After that, the Level 8 Advancement Mission was a Supply Run for Components. Both cases required trips to the Scrapyard, though the first one only needed to scavenge pieces from the edges. Both cases meant trips through dangerous territory where Nobody Should Ever Go Alone.
Maybe… they could bring even more help next time?
Cody shook his head. A ten-man squad should easily be able to scare away a few zebra-monkeys, but what were they to do about the Ogre? Short of some serious weaponry, their garden tool weaponry simply wasn't going to stand up to that Demolisher.
Survival, therefore, lay in stealth, not strength. They had to sneak through the Scrapyard quietly.
Sneaking in should be easier now that he'd learned telepathy. They could communicate mind-to-mind and avoid speaking entirely… right? Right??
Cody grimaced, thinking about it. Maybe they should go without Riki. Or if he went with Riki, maybe do so when Melinda wasn't around. "I need to make more friends."
About that, the other guys in his intake came to mind. Of them, Kalen didn't seem to like him for some reason, and Na'Sar seemed to want the whole world to fall into chaos. Oren seemed like a reliable guy, though, and Kenneth looked quite easygoing. Maybe he should try and ask them.