Physical Strength Test
In one corner laid a rack full of dumbbells, of every shape and size imaginable. Beside it was a long row of weight benches.
The Team were weightlifting, under Dobermann's close supervision. As per standard operating procedure, they each started from the lightest weights available, then slowly moved to heavier and heavier weights, until each of them reached the upper limit of their physical strength.
Everyone but one, at least.
Connor (now "Sentinel") took one look at the row of weights lining the rack, and scoffed.
Approaching the rack, he slipped his Kryptonian fingers underneath the entire thing, with all the dumbbells still lying on top.
"Recruit Kent, what are you-"
Giving a mighty heave, he lifted the entire rack straight into the air. He then removed his right hand, leaving the left hand to hold it. He turned around and smirked at everyone else.
"... Show off." said Wally. Artemis looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
Meanwhile, Dobermann just looked at him with exasperated eyes.
Before Dobermann was about to shout, Skadi walked into the scene. Walking about here and there with some confusion, she then grabbed Conner and hoisted his entire body in the air (rack included), before looking underneath.
She turned to Dobermann.
"May I ask if you have seen any training weights nearby? I recall some being stored in this area." she asks, still lifting Connor.
"I've never seen you use the weights before." said Dobermann.
"They are not for me, my fellow Operators asked of it." she said. She didn't even seem to notice the Kryptonian, as if she were holding up a chair rather than an entire person.
Wally laughed. Dobermann sighed.
Tactical Thinking Test
The Team and Dobermann were in a slightly smaller room now, enclosed and only accessible from a single on one side of the Gymnasium.
The room was sparse white, with light mostly coming from the fluorescent white tiles lining the floor and ceiling.
Mounted high on one end of the room was the window to the observation room, where The Team could see various indistinct figures observing them from above.
A beep sounded, and the walls began to glow with Arts.
Then, all sorts of holographic figures sprung from thin air, only barely distinguishable from the real thing by their translucence.
The figures took various forms, though all of them evoked some measure of "nasty" or "dangerous". Reunion thugs with scavenged weapons. Sarkaz Mercenaries. Mafia and Triad foot soldiers. Wildlife irradiated and enraged by Originium poisoning: Ravenous dogs, toxic slugs, and even mutated carnivorous plant life.
The holograms attacked them.
Surprised, The Team fought back.
These holographic enemies seemed almost designed to be trivially easy to beat, though, with them disintegrating after one solid hit. The Team took down the gaggle of mock enemies in a handful of seconds.
"Whoah, it almost feels like we're punching real people!" Wally exclaimed, holding up a fist.
We utilize Gravity Arts to simulate resistance on the trainee's body or weapon during live holographic training. It is one of the ways in which we meticulously prepare our Combat Operators for the rigours of frontline combat." Dobermann explained.
"Your people's integration of technology and sorcery is certainly very impressive…" said Aqualad, looking around
"Well, that's cool and all but… How is this supposed to test our tactical thinking?" asked Artemis, putting down her bow.
*Sorry, that's a secret.* said a voice on the intercom. The Team turned and looked up at the Observation Room.
*Now, if all of you would leave this room and re-enter it one-by-one, we can put you through a few scenarios we feel fit each of you the best.*
For the next hour or so, that was how they were tested. One-by-one, each member of The Team entered the Simulation Room alone, to be tested on… something. After each one was finished, they would be pulled into another adjoining room and not be allowed to communicate with the rest of the Team.
Not that they would have taken advantage of it anyway, as Aqualad would have stopped them. To quote the Atlantean himself:
"This is an honest test of our abilities, and they have shown themselves to be on the side of justice so far. It would be disrespectful to sully their intentions so flagrantly."
"You're no fun, Kaldur…" said Artemis, crossing her arms.
Over the next half-an hour, each of The Team was called-in one-by-one to face… whatever it was that the examiners have set up for them.
Finally, it was Robin's turn to take the test.
He opened the double doors leading in, and stepped into the centre of the brightly-lit room.
Suddenly, in the centre of the room, a city appeared. Well, not an entire city, and certainly not a life-sized one. It was a holographic diorama of several blocks in a residential area of some sort, rendered at a scale in which one person could fit in the palm of Robin's hand.
He kneeled down to take a closer look.
In the centre of it all were a handful of buildings, notable because he could actually see through their walls. Inside, he could see the telltale uniforms of Rhodes Island Combat Operators, some of them peeking through the windows.
He could see that each of the three Buildings down there had, at the most, a dozen Operators inside. On top of that, A good chunk of them were Support Operators (like medics), not direct combatants.
Surrounding them on all sides, pounding at the doors or taking potshots at them through the windows, was a mob of disheveled men and women that outnumbered them twenty-to-one. No, make that a hundred-to-one. Not only that, the buildings in which the Operators took refuge were completely surrounded by the enemy. Every street was thronged with hostiles.
*This top-down view will be the only concession you get. Everything else strives to be as realistic as possible.* said the voice over the intercom.
*Your mission will be to help these few Operators escape from this area. So long as they make it successfully off this map with none of the enemy actively chasing them or being aware of their current position, you will have passed the test.*
"... Man, Wally's right, this is just like a video game!" Robin said, kneeling down and inspecting the holographic battlefield in detail. "You're going to really regret giving me this view. To a tactical genius like me, you're basically granting me victory on a stick." he said, as he put on a pair of googles.
*Check yourself, young man. This scenario is taken almost-verbatim from a series of exercises used by Colombian military academies. There will be no reinforcements for your forces. The units currently barricaded in these few buildings will be the only friendly units under your command.
After hearing that, Robin then turned to look at the scenario he'd been given.
His testers did have kind of a point. His current position was bad. Very bad.
*Defeating them doesn't even come into the question anymore. Commander Robin, you have only one objective: Survive.*
… No. There's a way, there's always a way.
He narrowed his eyes, carefully scanning the lay of the landscape. He made out every detail on the top-down view of the cityscape afforded to him, his bird eyes picking out the finest of details: Alleyways within alleyways. Fire escapes that lead to other fire escapes. Rooftops with cover.
After several seconds of analysis, he leaned down and spoke to the miniature Operators huddling inside the buildings. They looked up at him.
"Okay guys, gather 'round. Here's what we're going to do…"
Approximately 45 minutes later, The Doctor went down to meet him.
For a long moment, he just stared at Robin.
Robin gave him the smuggest face imaginable.
"... Well, I certainly didn't expect that." said The Doctor.
"Oh, it's not that hard, once you realise how simple-minded the AI on these bots are. Once you fortify certain areas and bait them into attacking them over and over again, you can pretty much eliminate the enemy forces without taking any casualties. You know, it's surprising that there weren't any reinforcements for the bad guys too."
"... Alright, I concede that you have a point." said The Doctor. "Still, that scenario was supposed to be impossible."
"Yeah, if you were a normal tactician. But I'm Robin, chief apprentice to Batman. You know, the greatest thinker the world has ever seen? The Great Detective? The Master Manipulator? The One who Always Comes Prepared?
To many people, that scenario is the textbook example of a pyrrhic last stand against unstoppable odds. But I don't think that way. There's a way, there is always a way, even if it's a miniscule plank floating in an ocean of danger. Simulations like the one you just gave me? No matter how realistic and detailed they try to be, there's always gonna be a level of simplification, of abstraction, going on. In a real-life scenario, there's gonna be millions, no, trillions of little things going on around you. Many of which can change the situation in an instant. The key to success is to identify which of those things can flip the situation to your advantage, and then pull hard."
"Don't presume to lecture me on tactics, young man. " said The Doctor, his voice cooling to below zero. "You repeat things to me I already know as if the world has never heard them before. That's not the point here, though. Rhodes Island's simulation isn't perfect because we're a pharmaceutical company that happens to maintain a small, mobile combat force, not a dedicated PMC like Blacksteel."
After waiting a few seconds, The Doctor reached out and put his hands on Robin's shoulders.
"Listen to me, young man: No tactician is ever perfect. No tactician is ever even good enough for any and all scenarios they'll find themselves in. Someday, you will do your absolute 101% best, bring your A-game, find all the right solutions, optimise every movement to machine-like efficiency, make contingency plans for even the most remote possibilities, and still lose."
He let go of Robin.
"When that day comes… I hope you know how to handle it. I really do hope so."
"..."
"Now go join your friends."
The last person to take the test, Artemis, went in and out without any further fuss.
Melee Combat Test
In one of the many small arenas arranged in rows by one wall, wood slammed against wood. The softness of the material didn't stop the blows from cracking through the air with the ferocity of gunfire.
Despite the fact that they were just holding training tools, one could easily believe that the sparrers could kill things with those bokken as easily as they could with blades of steel.
On one side was a dark-skinned Atlantean with a crop of shaven blonde hair, holding two bokken in each hand. On the other side was a purple Feline. She was purple in both hair, eyes, and dress. She wielded only one bokken, in a stance that could almost be called regal.
Normally, Aqualad's blades would be made out of ever-flexible water, held together by magic and willpower. However, he seemed to take to wielding the training swords easily enough, almost as if he was trained on them from the start. Just like in his main weapon, he held one blade in each hand, both of them held upright and proudly forward, perpendicular to the floor.
The one opposite, at first glance, appeared to be little more than a frail young woman. That katana she carried around seemed more for show than for real defense. However, a single sparring match against her would quickly disabuse anyone of that notion.
Her name was Melantha, Team Leader of Reserve Op Team A4, and secretly one of Rhodes Island's best swordswomen. Seriously. Despite having a background that would make one think she would be better at PR than anything to do with combat, Melantha was a shockingly deadly soldier on the battlefield. She might have been a pampered rich girl, but she was a pampered rich girl who was trained in the art of the blade. At first purely for the exercise, but she had surprisingly little trouble applying it to life-and-death battles. In fact, so deadly and commanding was her presence, that she was made Team Leader of her squad almost on the spot.
That biography flashed through Robin's mind, as he watched his team leader attempt to launch blow after debilitating blow at the Feline girl. He slashed relentlessly, like the endless drops of a waterfall falling atop on a sturdy boulder.
The purple girl was unfazed, parrying each blow with only the slightest movement of her wrist.
"What use is carrying two blades…" she said. "When you attack as if you only had one?"
She then broke away from the fierce melee, stepping out of the radius of Aqualad's attacks. The Atlantean, not expecting this, fell too far forward in a swing and overstretched himself.
Melantha side-stepped, and attacked him from the side. It only took a last-minute combat roll before Aqualad took a hit to the leg (that would have severed it, had they been using real blades).
Aqualad proudly stood up again, brandishing his swords at her like nothing had happened.
Connor raised an eyebrow.
"Hey, Isn't this a little unfair? He has two swords, while she only has one." said Connor. To this, Robin just sighed.
"Dual-wielding efficiently is way harder than it looks. Trust me. I could do it 'cause of Batman putting me through that hell known as his "training", that I wouldn't wish it on even my worst enemies…" said Robin.
Looking at Melantha, the Atlantean nodded at her.
They went at it again.
This time, it was time for Melantha to go on the offensive. Her swings were slower, overall, than Aqualad, but she made up for it in sheer individual power. After blocking every swing, Kaldur's arms felt like they were one more swing away from snapping in half.
After a few more swings, she paused, and maintained a defensive posture.
"May I inquire as to where you have learned to wield a blade? Such a style as yours is unfamiliar to me. Despite having fought many swordsmen and women before, I have never seen anything quite like it."
"... I appreciate that you recognise the uniqueness of the Atlantean Military Sword Style." said Aqualad. "My style was pounded into me from the depths of deepest Atlantis. We are a reserved people by nature, so it's no surprise if you haven't heard of us. I am only a tiny handful of their number that has ever ventured outside the confines of our community, which is why you likely haven't seen my sword style before now."
"Is that so?" she said, very quietly.
This time, Aqualad returned on the offensive, with another barrage of sword strikes that his opponent neatly parried.
After a few more moments of this, moments that would seem like mere seconds to the unseasoned eye, but whole hours to those warriors used to the rhythm of combat, Aqualad struck the Feline on the side of her torso. If that had been a true blade he was wielding, that certainly would have caused a grievous wound at best, and bisecting her was a distinct possibility.
"I believe I have won this bout, Ma'am." he said, allowing himself a small smile.
Melantha just shook her head
He then realised there was something poking into his Belly. He looked down, and saw that his opponent's bokken was digging deep into his abdomen.
He looked up at her, and she smirked.
Arts Test
"Alright Recruit M'gann, I want you to cast your Movement Arts on those weights over there…" Doberman said, pointing to a pile of metal cubes on a mat.
"Umm… My psychic powers aren't really Magic, technically?" said M'gann. "I mean, they're very closely related enough to where I see where people might mistake one for the other, but…"
"... Just do it, recruit. We can sort out all the details later. For now, we're testing practical applications." said Dobermann, and her tone was enough to make the Martian stand up straight, and do an about-turn towards the test objects.
Holding out both of her hands, she closed her eyes, and concentrated.
Slowly, the metal blocks shifted, before about a dozen of them rose into the air, buoyed by an invisible force.
Once they were airborne, only the slightest of M'gann's movements were needed to finely manipulate them. She rotated each piece while holding them in the exact same spot in three dimensions. She then aligned them in a straight line, first vertically, then horizontally. Then, she gently placed them down the mat again, stacking them into the shape of a pyramid.
"Woow, Ms. Megan, your Arts are amazing!" said Mousse, who was watching from the sidelines.
"That's not Arts." said Skyfire, who was sitting right next to her.
"Huh? Ms. Skyfire?" said Mousse.
"That's not Arts." she repeated. "Arts involves the use of some kind of catalyst, most often Originium, to stimulate the casting of such large-effect spells with a minimum of time. Without Originium, you'll need an elaborate ritual or special reagents prepared beforehand to achieve much the same effects as you normally would with Originium. However, she did so with only a seeming thought! Whatever she's using, it doesn't obey any known laws or limitations of Arts!"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you people!" the Martian exclaimed.
Doberman walked up to Skyfire. "Ms. Skyfire, in your educated opinion, do you think it's a good idea to label… whatever she's doing as Arts? At least for the moment." she asked.
"Well, I mean her abilities look like Arts to a layperson, but anyone with even the most basic of Originium Arts training can tell her apart by simple observation. To be frank, I'd love for nothing more than to spend some time alone with her in a lab to see what makes her tic-"
At everyone else's glare, the Feline quickly raised up her hands in supplication. "Pardon me,
I know how to control myself, thank you very much."
"Good. We don't need another Warfarin running around this ship." said Dobermann
She lowered her hands again. "Frankly, the decision of whether or not to be open about this is entirely up to Ms. Amiya and the two good doctors. For all of my expertise, I am merely another Operator on this landship. However, If you want my honest opinion, I don't think people will really make that big of a deal out of it." she said.
"Are you really sure people won't freak out over someone just casually breaking your known scientific laws on a whim?" asked Robin, walking in from the sidelines.
"Crazy bloody things happening outside the sight of the Mobile Cities are a common news item, especially when it comes to those 'barbarous regions'." she said. "Chances are, if word about some green girl defying all known Laws of Casting were to ever spread far beyond Rhodes Island, most people would just dismiss them as exaggerated rumours, the ravings of Infected nobodies. Terra is a big place."
"But Dr. Kal'tsit and The Doctor must know of this, at least…" said Dobermann, pulling out her phone.
"Yes, definitely."
The two Rhodes Islanders looked at The Team, who then looked at M'gann. She shrugged.
"I don't mind."
Marksmanship Test
The Shooting Range was, like the tactical holographic simulation, in its own separate room from the larger gymnasium and sparring arenas, undoubtedly to avoid any unfortunate accidents.
Both users of the gun, the bow, and the crossbow were using this range, side-by-side. Indeed, this entire site seemed to be designed for any and all ranged weapons you could think of. Which made sense, Robin guessed, as dedicated firearm users in this world seemed to be rare enough that a small company like this wouldn't be setting aside a specialised range just for them.
While a few members of The Team spent some time in front of those moving targets (especially Robin, with his Robin-rangs), it was really Artemis, the sole markswoman of The Team, who was the focus of this little trip to the range.
She drew a quick procession of arrows, and shot down each man-sized target on the other end of the range. There were bullseyes on every single one.
Dobermann wasn't satisfied with such large, static targets, of course. Artemis was then made to shoot at moving targets, human-sized silhouettes moving back-and-forth like goombas. Then the silhouettes got smaller and faster, resembling sprinting figures and attack dogs.
Then, they threw aerial targets at her. Clay pigeons with targets painted on them were shot out of tiny chutes hidden on either side of the range.
She shot them out of the sky with speed and confidence.
But while she was shooting down the clay targets, an armada of drones snuck up on her. Faced with several drones that were starting to close in on her box, she notched three arrows at once, and launched them at the same time, from the same bow, each one spearing through a different drone at the same time.
One spectating Operator whistled. "Damn, she just pulled a Blue Poison out there. She's way better than she looks."
As Artemis worked on the targets Dobermann directed her towards, a few more Operators began observing her from the sidelines.
Many of them were clearly quite impressed with this newcomer, this archer girl in green and blonde.
"She's clearly been doing this for a long-ass time before this…" said someone with pink hair. "Or she had some great training."
"Eh, She's not that special. Kid soldiers are a dime-a-dozen out there." said a white-haired Kuranta, looking with a measured disinterest in her proceedings. "She must be one of those leftover children from Colombia. Or Kazdel. They all start blurring together after a while."
She took one look at Artemis, before leaving the stands.
"S-s-she looks really scary…" said a catto Feline Operator, her black ears drooping down as she watched.
"I think that's more on you than her, Jessica."
"Eep..."
As Dobermann called an end to Artemis' test, the blonde sighed and turned on her heels. Walking away, she passed by another archer (a white-haired woman) setting up on the range, right next to the spot she was using. She looked surprisingly familiar to Artemis…
After a few seconds of thought, Artemis suddenly realised why. This woman was with her, back there in Chernobog. She was part of the same Sniper unit that Artemis was pushed into when they were first taken in as "pseudo-Operators". Back then, she didn't even notice her that much. She kinda blended in with all the other animal-eared archers, gunslingers, and crossbowmen running around.
But she did remember her, this white-haired archer. She saw her in combat a few times. Hell, she'd even covered her ass when the Reunion Goons got a little too close for comfort. She never did manage to thank her for that.
"Hey. Fancy seeing you here." Artemis said.
"... You're pretty good, for a kid playing at being Robyn Hood, that is." the horse archer replied, as she was stretching her bow.
"... The hell did you say about me? You got some nerve!" said Artemis.
"What are you going to do, shoot me?" said the Kuranta. "Go on, do it, then I won't have to see you again when you get thrown into some dingy cell at the bottom of the Ark."
"Why don't you try me?" said Artemis, though a deft ear could detect the slightest hesitation in her voice.
The white-haired archer sighed. "You really are a kid, aren't you."
Artemis just growled.
"You know what, let's settle this like proper archers." she said, before drawing her arrow and aiming it at a drone. The target zigged here and zagged there, clearly intending to be one of the most challenging targets to hit.
*Thwock*
The arrow landed in the dead center of the circle. A bullseye.
A second arrow flew from Artemis. It sheared Platinum's arrow in half, right down its centre.
Platinum then split Artemis' arrow with her own, before proceeding to split her own arrows five times in quick succession.
When the Kuranta fired a sixth one, Artemis fired her own. Artemis' arrow pinned Platinum's arrow mid-flight onto another target entirely.
"Okay, now she's just showing off." said Robin, crossing his arms.
"You don't sound entirely disapproving." said Aqualad. Robin just smirked.
Speed and Endurance Test
Wally was running.
Running was something he had done hundreds of times before. Hundreds and thousands of miles in a single sprint, usually without breaking a sweat.
Not this time, though. Definitely not this time. For once, he was actually lagging behind the rest of The Team.
Right on his wrist, his infection bracelet was growing a normal cyan, which indicated that he wasn't making his infection even worse than it already is. Such as by tapping into the Speed Force, apparently.
When they started, he did the usual thing for him, and sped ahead in his signature yellow blur. He was hoping to see the dropped jaws of those people observing him as he went from zero to above the speed of sound in less than a second.
However, he only went as far as a stone's throw before he fell to the tartan surface of the running track, clutching his legs in excruciating pain.
After a bit of a checkup by the medic on site, he was asked to do the whole run again, without the help of his powers (or "Arts", as they call it here).
It sucked.
The Instructor made it very clear that this was not a race, but it didn't stop Wally from feeling bad that he was trailing behind everyone else.
He understood why it had to happen. He just hated that it had to happen.
Without his super-speed, what the hell would he be!? He's called "Kid Flash", for crying out loud! Without it, he's just some Joe Schmoe teenager who runs around in a funny yellow Halloween costume.
Predictably, when he finally came to the finish line, the rest of The Team were waiting there for him. Robin patted him on the shoulder. "Hey, you did pretty damn good for your age. See? Maybe your powers aren't the only thing going for you." he says.
… Easy for him to say, he's never had any powers in his life.
He answered the high five that Robin offered him, but it lacked any strength behind it.