Chapter 5: I Studied the Blade
Waking up the next day, Maxwell felt a little better. He gets out of bed and realizes that he was the last to wake up, as everyone else is already up.
"Psss"
"Hey, dude"
Hearing someone whispering to him, Maxwell looks around.
He then realized that it was one of the soldiers sleeping next to him.
"Say pal, you don't look so good."
"Don't I look good? Then tell me who is! Nobody could sleep after what happened yesterday and you just lay in bed and... slept?" With two black bags around his eyes, the soldier looks at Maxwell in disbelief.
"Hey, enough chat, recruits, your training has just begun. Anyone late will be eating Skag meat for dinner."
Maxwell just shrugged, leaving the bedroom when he had finished getting ready.
Maxwell was talking to the system as he made his way to the training center. He intended to have a mission related to his current training, as he wanted to gain another skill and credits, he needed to accumulate as many credits as possible to realize his humble plan.
However, he didn't make the mission easy, as this influenced the amount of credits he could receive.
[Generating quest…]
[Quest:
( ) Complete 50 knife throws successfully at a distance of 10 feet.
( ) Take part in all the knife classes of the week.
( ) Defeat someone with a knife.
Reward: Blade Mastery + $20c]
Maxwell can't help but think how many points he'd be earning with a multiplier, his determination to level up skyrocketing.
The reward in credits was high because if he missed a single lesson, the mission was given as a failure. The other two were relatively easy to complete, the first being more tedious and the third a hassle to find someone to do a little sparring, but nothing impossible.
After finishing today's knife lesson, which focussed on the utilitarian use of knives in survival, Maxwell goes to an isolated location with the knife he had received from the army.
He was carrying a sandbag on his back because there were no trees in Pandora, which annoyed Maxwell. After all, trees would be good objects for knife-throwing practice.
Shaking his head, he pushes these distracting thoughts to the back of his mind and focuses on his goal. Removing his knife from the holster concealed beneath his armpit, Maxwell holds the knife by the blade and prepares to throw it.
*Swoosh
The knife spins a few times in the air before hitting the target, unfortunately, it was the handle that ended up hitting it, so it doesn't count as a hit in the quest.
After a few more attempts Maxwell becomes frustrated with the inconvenience of having to retrieve his knife every time. Looking at the screen, he sees his progress.
[(3/50) Complete 50 knife throws successfully at a distance of 10 feet.]
"Too slow, I'd rather speed it up somehow." Maxwell scratches his beard for a moment, a figurative light bulb switches on above his head.
Maxwell remembers that there were sets of knives being sold through the system. Opening the Hangar, he scrolls down the list to the weapons section, when he comes to a section that makes him pause for a moment.
[(Weapons) Hope's Dusk/M7A1 Kunai: A set of three black kunai. Perfect weight and balance for throwing. the blade can never lose its sharpness for as long as its battery lasts. $5c]
Heirlooms were weapons exclusive to certain characters in Apex Legends, some of which were cool, others useful, and a minority a joke.
Maxwell laughs at the thought of being able to buy an heirloom for a mere 5 credits. He wasn't a fan of Apex Legends but he knew that getting an heirloom cost hundreds of dollars, he just wanted to see the look on people's faces when he had a fortune in credits and bought all the heirlooms.
He didn't rush out to buy a weapon, but went back to looking for more options, concentrating on something cheap that met his needs.
At first, he wanted to buy the throwing knives that Pulse Blade pilots use, but the weapon was not only used for stabbing but also recognition, as it could reveal hidden enemies through obstacles. The price matched its usability plus he would need to wear a pilot's helmet because the enemies were revealed on the helmet's interface.
[(Weapons) Pulse Blade: Scout Kunai with a leaf-shaped blade and a handle with a ring on the pommel. It can be used for piercing, throwing, or even anchoring. The Pulse Blade also provides a brief sonar pulse that detects enemies. $15c]
[(Weapons) Kunai ARC ExD: Electric Edge Kunai with a leaf-shaped blade and a handle with a ring on the pommel. It can be used for piercing, throwing, or even anchoring. With its adjustable power, it can be used to stun infantry troops and blind Titans at low power and to dismember and puncture them when working at high voltage. $10c]
[(Weapons) Kunai HExD: Explosive Kunai with a leaf-shaped blade and a handle with a ring on the pommel. It can be used for piercing, throwing, or even anchoring. In addition to its uses as a Kunai, when activated this blade explodes after multiple rotations when it doesn't hit any targets. High explosion on contact/impalement. $3c]
[(Weapons) Shuriken Firestar: Incendiary throwing star that creates thermite on impact. It will stick to surfaces. $3c]
Maxwell wanted to buy an ARC Kunai, but for 10 credits he would only get a single Kunai. Firestar and Kunai HExD were cheap because they were destroyed once activated.
Not wanting to waste any more time, he would keep the Wrath Kunais, it was temporary, as he would exchange them for a Pulse when he had more credits and a pilot's helmet.
[-$5c]
Maxwell picks up the three Kunai before they hit the ground, he balances one on his finger, testing the weight distribution. The Kunai were black, 7 inches long, with a 4-hole diamond design in the middle of the blade, a real work of art.
Stopping to inspect his new weapon, Maxwell ties a line to the Kunais and returns to his goal, throwing all three Kunais and pulling them back.
He repeated this process for several minutes, and his chance of success increased with each attempt. Maxwell stopped only to see a screen appear in front of him.
[Quest:
(X) Complete 50 knife throws successfully at a distance of 10 feet.
( ) Take part in all the knife classes of the week.
( ) Defeat someone with a knife.]
Seeing the time on his ECHO, Maxwell collects his Kunais. He hurriedly made his way to the cafeteria before he was too late.
A few days later…
The following days were filled with more advanced teachings on the art of using a blade. An entire day (24 hours, not an entire day cycle) was devoted to the most important concepts of footwork, where to avoid striking so that the blade doesn't get stuck in the opponent's body, and how to use the knife in everyday situations on hostile planets, such as survival, cutting branches to make fire, preparing food and improvising shelter.
Having consumed the sweet nectar of knowledge and immersed themselves in the more archaic wisdom of their ancestors, it was time for the practical lesson.
Sparring
Maxwell had been waiting for this moment all week, as this was the only goal left to earn his precious credits.
Despite the Pandora sun at its peak, the icy atmosphere of the Crimson Enclave remained constant, snowflakes dusting every surface. In a secluded spot, the recruits formed a simple circle, with the participants facing each other in the center of the wheel. The fluffy snow covering the ground would soon bear witness to the spattering of blood from the combatants.
Maxwell stood with his arms crossed as he watched the recruits rush in, watching their movements intently, hoping to gain an advantage over his fellow trainees. The instructor's presence was primarily to intervene in any potential altercations, a common occurrence among both newcomers and veterans.
Maxwell's turn soon came when someone went to the middle of the ring and held out his hand to him, making a provocative gesture with his fingers for him to come closer.
Maxwell grinned and said nothing as he picked up his knife in a reverse grip. The knives they'd been given for sparring weren't completely blunt, but as most of them were grown men in their prime, cutting someone would only take a little more effort.
They positioned themselves, lowering their center of gravity and keeping their legs slightly bent, their stances keeping their bodies as far away from each other as possible, but their knives as close to their opponents as possible.
"The rules are simple, the first one to cut his opponent three times wins, only hands, arms, and shoulders can be hit. If you continue to fight after the winner has been announced, I'll kick you out of the army."
"Go ahead!"
With the signal given, Maxwell begins to move, his hands always flowing, not allowing his opponent to predict his movements. This doesn't last long as his opponent loses patience and lunges forward with aggressive stabbings.
Maxwell is forced to back off slowly, but not without attacking. He unleashes a flurry of attacks, but throws his stab at random intervals, making his opponent more cautious and slowing down his attacks.
This proves to be a mistake as Maxwell suddenly lunges at his opponent.
The light spray of blood stains the already-stained snow.
Stepping back, Maxwell raises his knife, a red trail glistening on the surface of the blade.
His opponent seems unconcerned by the large gash in his upper right hand, but a playful smile appears on his face.
Maxwell frowns but soon understands when he feels a warm, and viscous run down his left elbow.
Pushing the tingling sensation to the back of his mind, Maxwell regains his concentration and leaves his wound to the care of the nanites.
Stepping back into his opponent's personal space, Maxwell is undeterred by the cut.
Something inside him seemed to be unlocked when he felt the first blow, removing his remaining shyness and allowing him to enter the fight without fear of injury.
The instructor seemed to have noticed Maxwell's change in attitude, shaking his head when he saw that the winner had already been decided.
Some might argue that all that sparring with blades in a controlled environment wasn't the same as a real close combat situation.
But the point of sparring was not to give recruits real experience, that was something that could only be gained in real conflicts and fights, after all, you'd only lose a knife fight once in such a scenario.
The goal was to instill in the recruits a fearlessness of injury; the first to succumb to fear had already lost the battle.
As the fight intensified, Maxwell saw an opportune moment and launched himself again. His opponent knew this would happen and prepared to counter.
What he didn't expect, however, was Maxwell's refusal to retreat, even when his shoulder was pierced and the blade tore into his flesh.
Then his opponent realized that Maxwell's blade was approaching, he tried to dodge, but Maxwell's great footwork pinned him, the blade grazing his forearm before plunging into his bicep.
"Grrr!" A grunt of pain bursts from the man's clenched lips as he feels Maxwell withdraw the blade, and he does the same, though more roughly, frustrated at having been defeated. Maxwell grits his teeth, a low animalistic growl rising from his throat at the audacity of the idiot, but he makes no move.
Maxwell returns to his seat and is given gauze to cover his wounds, but refuses the metabolism shots as he doesn't know if they will affect his stats. Finally calming down, Maxwell could feel his breath coming in gasps and his heart beating quite fast. The adrenaline from the fight was starting to wear off and the pain hit him like a truck.
As Maxwell wrapped the gauze around his wounds, he reflected on the intense fight that had just taken place. He realized that he had found a new confidence in himself, a confidence that could only be gained by facing the fear of being hurt. Even with the cuts and bruises, he knew that as long as he wasn't killed immediately, the nanites would find a way to fix him.
Finishing bandaging up, a screen appears in front of Maxwell, something he was expecting.
[(X) Complete 50 knife throws successfully at a distance of 10 feet.
(X) Take part in all the knife classes of the week.
(X) Defeat someone with a knife.]
[Quest accomplished! Depositing rewards…]
[You've received a skill: Blade Mastery]
[Blade Mastery: This skill represents mastery over all types of blades and edged weapons. Blade Mastery improves various aspects of the art of the blade, including:
Sharpening: Its sharpness lasts longer, allowing you to use your blades for longer. Quality is defined by your level.
Throwing: Throws throwables further and more accurately.
Butcher: Your blows using blades hardly get stuck, in addition to keeping your blade clean for longer.]
[+$20c]
Maxwell doesn't soften, his performance has caught the eye. It seemed that his nanites had a lot of work to do.
Chapter 6: The First Mission
After these gains, the following weeks were less intense. Maxwell was taught some basics about the army, including survival techniques, terrain reconnaissance, trap location, communication protocols, and more. One day was even dedicated to familiarizing the recruits with Pandora's native species and their vulnerabilities, instructing them on when to retreat and when to eliminate threats. The funniest thing was seeing the bandits being put together with the planet's fauna, Atlas only saw them as wild animals.
The final week culminated in military knowledge and firearms training. For Maxwell, it felt like more of the same, resulting in minimal gains aside from a few extra levels in Trigger Discipline.
However, amidst this practical training, the indoctrination from Atlas continued unabated. Maxwell paid little heed; it was all about patriotism and the threat of severe punishment for deserters, nothing new in the corporate world of Borderlands.
Ten weeks later…
All the recruits met in a briefing room at the military base to receive their orders before leaving. Maxwell was sitting in the darkest corner of the briefing room, with a rigid posture and frowning eyebrows. His eyes were fixed on the knife he was twirling, each twist of the blade an attempt to dissipate the nervous energy boiling up inside him.
The fan in the ceiling rotated monotonously, casting a shadow from the cold light of the spotlight on the ceiling. The creaking sound of the fan was the only sound apart from the whispered murmurs of the restless recruits and the occasional cough.
The room suddenly fell silent, Maxwell could have sworn that even the squeaking of the fan had stopped. A tall man in a uniform full of insignia and medals enters the room.
Everyone stood up and saluted, to which the officer merely nodded in response. He went to the center of the room, where a holographic screen showed Old Haven.
"Recruits," his eyes traveled around the room, assessing each face with penetrating intensity. "Our task is of the utmost importance. We must retake Old Haven and establish a secure presence in the region. Pay attention, any lack of care can lead to your death and that of your mates."
"We have all the advantages on our side, but it's always good to have backup plans." As the officer spoke, he pointed to the holographic screen, which showed a detailed blueprint of Old Haven, identifying possible routes and areas of interest. He then points to Old Haven's sewage system. "If the bandits show too much resistance, we'll send a squad to invade through the sewers, sabotage their defenses, contaminate their water, and poison their food."
"Sir, where does this sewage go? I see that it seems to be connected to another location." A soldier raises his hand, pointing out that the sewage system seems to be connected to another location.
"It's nothing relevant, the sewer is connected to a site that had been used by a corporation."
"Get ready, we're leaving in five hours," concluded the officer, his voice echoing in the room. "No more questions? OK, that concludes it, dismissed!"
Stowing his knife in his holster, Maxwell gets up and goes to pack his things. He had received basic equipment from the Atlas army after completing his training. Reaching his bed, he pulls a rucksack from under his bed. He takes out a red helmet, his infantry uniform that came with a standard bulletproof vest, a classic piece of Atlas equipment of level-one.
Putting on his helmet, Maxwell felt the air become cleaner, the helmets came with an air filter, although it took a while to get used to the reduction in your field of vision. When he put on his uniform he felt warmer, but he would soon know that it would be hell when he was no longer in his Salt Flats.
Duly dressed, he picked up an assault rifle strapped to the side of his rucksack, along with 5 full magazines and 10 boxes of Atlas ammunition resembling 5.62x45mm.
He loads the gun with one magazine and locks it, storing the rest of the magazines in his pockets. He kept his boxes of ammo for his weaponry in his ECHO, along with a canteen of water, and five MREs he had received for the mission. Although ECHO's inventories didn't delay the time for food to spoil or keep water cold, it still kept her supplies safe, then it would be good to keep them in his inventory.
"P2016, Knives, ammo, flashlight, food and water... Huh, I think I'm forgetting something." With four of his six ECHO slots already filled, Maxwell does one last check, finally realizing what was missing
"Oh! The shield, how I'd almost forgotten!"
Maxwell rummages through his rucksack and pulls out a small device that he plugs into his ECHO before strapping it around his waist, a force field covers Maxwell's body like a thin layer. It was a simple shield, it could withstand 1-2 shots depending on the caliber, it took 7 seconds to fully recharge and it had a lifespan of 100 recharges before it became waste. Typical cannon fodder equipment, but better than nothing.
"Alright, I'm ready" Letting out a sigh, Maxwell makes his way to Crimson Fastness. He stopped in front of the Lancer they were using to get to Old Haven, it was a terrain vehicle as ships would attract unwanted attention. Lancers are heavily armored military vehicles with heavy weaponry, requiring four operators to use all the vehicle's weapons. Their tires were gigantic, perfect for the rough and unfavorable terrain.
Arriving at the back, Maxwell waits for the back to be opened, he sees that there are already some people inside. The eyes of those present followed Maxwell as he chose a seat. The silence didn't last long when what Maxwell assumed to be the leader in his level-three gear introduced himself.
"I thought the newcomer had chickened out, I'm King, and I'll be leading the Tango squad. You may be new to the team, but I expect to count on you to pull your weight and follow orders. You understood, Pawn?"
"Yes, sir!" Maxwell nodded.
"Great," King pointed to the soldier next to him, who, like everyone else present, was wearing level-two Atlas equipment. The only difference, however, was that there was a doctor's symbol on his uniform. "This is the Bishop, treat this guy like your father, he'll not only treat your physical wounds, but your mind as well."
"How are you, young man? Don't be shy if you need someone to vent to, the first kill is always the scariest." Bishop gave a thumbs-up, even though his voice was muffled by his helmet, his voice calm and gentle.
"I'm ok, sir, thank you for your concern." Maxwell gave a thumbs-up back.
King pointed at the soldier with arms crossed, the man, in particular, stood out from the crowd because he was the tallest, and his muscular body was noticeable through his uniform.
"This is Rook, He's our weapons specialist and logistics expert. Rook's your man, any issues with your gear, or any modifications you need."
Rook, with a subtle Russian accent, adds, "If you vant to outlive ze other Pawns, let Rook give your pea-shoohter a makeover, buddy," gesturing toward Maxwell's holstered P2016.
Maxwell's eyebrow raises at the unexpected accent, but he quickly recalls the australian accents of Elpis's inhabitants.
"Maybe another time R-" Before he can respond, the other soldier interjects with a jest.
"Come on Rook, you're married but you keep asking to take a look at every man's 'gun', I don't know mate, your wif-"
*Gun cocking noises*
"Shut up Knight, and Rook, put away that anti-materiel rifle." King rubbed his forehead, everything was going so well until Knight opened his mouth.
Rook grumbles quietly but still puts his rifle back in his ECHO case.
Sighing, King points to the last soldier present.
"And last but not least," Sighing, King announces, gesturing towards the final soldier. "Meet Knight. He's our eyes and ears on the field, our sniper and reconnaissance officer."
"Yeah yeah, that's me," Knight chimes in, his tone dripping with swagger. "I'm the guy you call when you need a little 'extra' flair on the battlefield. Sniper by trade, recon by choice, and all-around badass by nature."
"Between you and me," Rook leans towards Maxwell and whispers in his distinctive Russian accent. "He can barely hit the broad side of a barn, much less when he's aiming for the john."
"HEY!" Knight barked in offense, the entire squadron had heard Rook's mockery.
Maxwell can't resist, and a slight snicker escapes from his nose. The squadron he's in is rather odd.
"Shut up, we've got everyone. We're leaving."
King receives a message from his ECHO and signals the Lancer driver to leave. A dozen Lancers leave the Crimson Fastness gate through the Salt Flats to Old Haven.
Maxwell is distracted as he looks through the tiny window of the vehicle, watching the beasts on wheels kick up a trail of dust. His eyes turn to the floating blue screen.
_____
Name: Maxwell Williams
Regeneration: 0
[STR: 29] [END: 37] [DEX: 30] [INT: 18]
Skills: [Trigger Discipline lv.7] [Blade Mastery lv.3]
___
Functions: [Hangar] [Quest Board]
Credits: $26
_____
Maxwell is brought back from his stupor when he feels the vehicle slow down and his heart unconsciously starts racing.
Checking the chamber of his gun one last time, Maxwell joins his squad as they exit the vehicle when the back door opens. A few hundred meters away Maxwell could see his target, some thugs were patrolling the area, oblivious to the fact that they were being attacked. Thanks to the dune terrain, allowed them to hide among the natural waves that served as trenches.
Maxwell narrowed his eyes, his vision of the horizon distorted by the intense heat, his temperature beginning to rise the moment he stepped out of the vehicle.
"Hey Pawn, help me out here." Rook pulls a S&S heavy machine gun from his ECHO, the weapon raising a cloud of dust as it falls to the sandy ground. Maxwell and Rook take the gun and position it in a strategic place. Maxwell grunts softly as he feels the weight of the gun, the veins in his arm showing from the effort.
Finishing positioning the weapon, Maxwell returns to his squad. He notices Knight's absence but attributes it to the man having found a position to assist.
"All units must move away from the main gate, bombing on the way."
Maxwell receives a message from an officer on his ECHO, and it doesn't take long for a group of Lancers to rain down missiles on the gate.
*BOOOM!*
Maxwell ducked down, even from a distance he could feel the tremors and the deafening noise. Rising from his position, he sees the rubble of what used to be a gate, various pieces of flesh, and severed limbs all over the place.
Old Haven buzzes with the screams of bandits and psychos. Maxwell instinctively ducks when he hears a machine gun roaring at the psychos advancing against them. The bandits were not as insane as the psychos and mounted a resistance, knowing that they would be lost if the Atlas army invaded.
Maxwell couldn't stay hidden for long when he was ordered to advance over the cover of the suppressive fire.
Maxwell was not alone in his advance, there were other soldiers in level-one armor. Arriving at the entrance, Maxwell threw himself against the wall, finally realizing he was breathing heavily.
Maxwell wanted to take a look, but he ducked his head just in time to avoid a burst of gunfire from the bandits. His face paled as he almost lost his head.
"THROWING FLASHBANG!"
Amid the confused gunfire, Maxwell heard someone scream, he looked up and a projectile flew over his head, the next instant an explosion was heard with a loud flash.
Maxwell's brain was trying to reason out what was happening, but his body moved on instinct as he saw an opportunity to kill his enemies. Leaning his upper body out of the cover, Maxwell began firing at everything that moved on the other side. He returned to cover and threw the empty magazine on the ground, reloading the next one and firing.
The Atlas soldiers advance, entering the entrance as they see the enemy defenses vulnerable, Maxwell follows close behind but throws himself against a nearby wall as more bandits appear. His move was made without hesitation, with those who weren't quick enough being shot without pity, their shields torn to shreds.
Maxwell's hands began to tremble with nervousness as he could feel the vibrations of the bullets hitting the wall against his back. It felt like he was in a massage chair.
He saw an Atlas soldier next to him, he was lying down and trembling, a pool of yellow liquid beneath him. Maxwell didn't judge the poor man going through shell shock, he could feel his bladder on edge after almost dying several times.
Bending down, he picks up a grenade from the man's waistband. The man is startled and begins to scream, but Maxwell doesn't care as he feels time running out. Removing the pin from the grenade, Maxwell waits a few seconds before throwing it, shouts echoing from the bandits before being silenced by the explosion.
Leaning in slightly to assess the damage, Maxwell jumps in fright when the soldier behind him shuts up abruptly. Turning around swiftly, he draws his P2016 from his waistband. This proves to be a mistake when he finds a psycho leaping from the Atlas soldier to him with a buzzaxe.
Maxwell tries to shoot but due to the limited space, the psycho manages to jump on Maxwell and knock him down, his buzz axe descending on the man's head.
The shield reflects the blow, he tries to aim for the psycho's head but the psycho punches him in the face, causing him to miss his shot.
Maxwell feels his head spin as he is punched in the head, but he regains his senses when he feels an axe coming down on his torso, a scream of pain coming from his throat.
Fortunately, his END stats were high enough for it not to have been a fatal blow. The pain seemed to have reminded him of the basics of CQC.
The psycho violently pulls his buzz axe into Maxwell's chest, blood following the movement of the axe, the psycho wanted to strike another blow, but suddenly felt his body go lethargic. That was the last thing the psycho did before falling on his side, a Data Knife stuck in his throat.
Maxwell removes the corpse from above him, and he reclines on the wall. His head lowers to see his bloodied bulletproof vest, he looks around, his vision is blurred but he can still see King and Rook approaching, feeling relieved, he passes out.
Weekly Power Status
200+ Power
Ranking 
164 Power
stone 
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