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Lieutenant Kyanite was still learning the ropes of the Negaverse. She had mastered the infrastructure, been instructed on how to drain energy, been warned about the Rift, all of it. She had received basic battle training -- offense and defense -- and was conditioning pretty much all day in her civilian time. Even with all that, when it had come to her first big battle at the senshi meeting, the young girl had absolutely choked. If it hadn't been for the combined efforts of several Dark Mirror senshi, she would probably be dead. Other Negaverse agents had died, and it was a scary fate that rattled her bones.

Choking on the battlefield was not the sort of thing that went unnoticed by the Negaverse. The very next day, Kyanite was given notice that, in addition to her normal training, she had to attend mandatory sparring sessions every day until she was proven to be a more viable specimen. Failure was humiliating enough -- but failure with the promise of getting her a** beaten? It was not her idea of a good time.

As she appeared in Negaspace, quite nervous, she tried to ask herself what her cousin, Eden, would have done. No, not Eden -- General-King Marthozite. Her cousin had risen to the highest ranks in the Negaverse. That didn't surprise her. But she wasn't like Marthozite. She had never been able to take risks, or put herself out there. She was nowhere near as tough as him. She was nothing, she thought, compared to him -- certainly not in a military organization.

None of that thinking would keep her from sparring against whoever had been assigned to her. With a chill, she noted that she was the only person there. So this wouldn't be a group session. Awesome. Kyanite tried to distract herself by twisting her electrical cord around her wrist over and over and over.

The voice gave Kyanite a start. She turned and recognized an officer who had been at the battle. She hadn't met him personally, but learned his name through the grapevine. "Hello," she said, somewhat dumbly. The girl even waved a little -- that was, before he called her "the one." Yikes. So it was news that she was awful. Just great.

Before the disappointment could fully sink in to her face, Kyanite saw the flash of his movement. He was faster than her, and even for a lieutenant, she was nowhere near battle-savvy. A tiny eep! escaped her lips as she dropped into a crouch, covering her face with her hands.

That was her killer defensive maneuver.

No fear. No cowering. Counter. React. Spot weaknesses.

It was easy to tell herself to do these things mentally, much harder to actually do them in person. Kyanite nodded to him, afraid to say something and be more incorrect than her kneejerk reaction already had been. How would she ever live up to Marthozite's name if she couldn't even pass a sparring session?

Swallowing down another lump of uncertainty, Kyanite watched Bismuthite with a healthy mix of fear, respect, and nerves. He commanded her to show him her weapon and so she quickly summoned it. It was a thick, black electrical cord four feet in length. She held it out to him.

"It's an electrical cord," she said as strongly as she could.

The names of the generals were part of Kyanite's induction into the Negaverse. She knew who General Wolframite was, that he wielded double knives on chains. The lieutenant figured that was kind of like her cord... just a million times better. As uncertain as she felt in her new role, she was curious about what her own weapon might become. It was a cord now, but what did fate have in store for her?

In the meantime, Kyanite once more nodded at Bismuthite's suggestion. Talk to Wolframite, check. Before she knew it, the moment of calm was done, and they were back to sparring.

This time, she was a little more prepared. As he ran forward, Kyanite backpedaled away and then hopped out to the side to try and dodge him. With a pathetic unf!, she slapped her cord out at him. The strain rattled through her arm, but her aim was still terrible.

If Bismuthite kept sparring with Kyanite, he would quickly realize that she rarely made the aggressive choice in battle. So when he snatched her cord from the air, she immediately let go of it, staggering backwards. Her fist remained clenched up high, but she had no idea where to go from here. Was she supposed to attack him? Was this all part of some test?

After a moment of pause, Kyanite summoned her weapon back to her hands, giving it one testing lash and keeping her distance from Bismuthite. She didn't want to attack. She really didn't think she could attack him without embarrassing herself.

Kyanite's side stung from the kick, and she winced visibly. She was still learning to take hits, just as much as she was learning how to give them. Already she had proven to be much better at taking them. Kyanite was, if anything, resilient. It didn't make it hurt any less though.

Her attempt to be more aggressive did not go precisely as she planned. The cord wrapped around Bismuthite's wrist, and a burst of surprise lit Kyanite's features. Before she could think to tug it, Bismuthite did it first. He pulled her close with little effort, and she took the punch.

His fist made contact. Kyanite attempted a move they had learned in training. She gripped the wrist of the first, placed her other hand on his shoulder, and attempted to twist it behind his back. He was stronger than her, faster too, but Kyanite could see what else to do.

She figured that running was a non-option.

A spark of joy lit up in Kyanite as she felt the success of her arm twist. It occurred to her that he might be letting her get this far -- but only a second too late to realize his follow-up strike. His swiping leg knocked her on her a**, but she kept her grip on his arm, aiming to pull him down with her. It was more or less the only course of action she could think to do.

Did that mean she was learning? Kyanite had no idea.

It as as if Kyanite and Bismuthite were playing some kind of bizarre Twister. She was flat on her back, legs curled up toward her chest, hand gripping a kneeling Bismuthite. His instruction made her think. What should she do next? She had him position for an attack, even if being on her back made her feel like an upturned turtle.

With a grunt of effort, Kyanite struck out with her feet, leveraging Bismuthite's arm and attempting to flip him backward over her head. That way, she could roll back to her feet and fall back into an aggressive stance. If she had the courage for it, she could even line up a follow-up strike. Much of her combat instruction had to do with follow-up strikes, but it was easier said than done.