The rules

More than four hundred kilometres away, three prefects were making themselves comfortable inside an assembly room. One large viewing screen took up more than half the area of the wall it was mounted to. The soundproof room enclosed a space that allowed for a long rectangular glass table and several ergonomically designed seats built for maximum comfort.

Perfect Levi chose a seat next to prefect Helena who was focused and engaged in filling out some online forms which weren't due anytime soon.

"How typical of the industrious Helena," he drawled. "You're wasting valuable manpower and depriving your vice prefects of precious work experience."

"And you?" Helena responded, not taking her eyes off the screen she was writing on. "Does the counsellor of camp Cygnus know that its irresponsible prefect has been offloading all of his responsibilities to the overworked vice prefects?"

"Yeah, he does know. And he secretly appreciates it."

"I highly doubt that."

Levi raised his feet to the glass table and leaned on the backrest of his chair which automatically began to make adjustments for his new sitting position.

"You doubt me but I speak the wisdom of ages, carefully passed down through the generations of many seasoned generals. You see, prefect industrious, a man is either intelligent or stupid, hard working or lazy. The stupid and lazy don't make it to the military while the hard-working and stupid ones make good front line troops-"

A third prefect sitting on the other side of the table glanced sideways and paid attention to the interesting direction of conversation that Levi was conducting.

"-Now, the hard-working and intelligent ones like yourself, Helena, make good subordinates and lieutenants."

Helena narrowed her eyes at Levi whose smarmy smile made her fingers itch.

"And you think you're fit to command?" The annoyed silver-haired prefect retorted.

"Well," Levi replied. "I'm not answering that. All I'll say is that I'd rather be the head chef than the chief of staff."

"Who then qualifies for the highest position?" The third prefect asked Levi. The teenage girl with wavy chocolate brown hair was Yve Inmarlsen, the hot tomboy prefect of camp Lupus.

"Prefect industrious might stab me with her stylus if I dare say it," Levi replied as he eyed the tight grip she had on it.

Helena would have snorted at that if she didn't have appearances to maintain. The silver-haired prefect lightly tapped the data pad with her stylus even as she responded to the young man who had a remarkable talent for getting under her skin.

"I know better than to try and stab someone who has such thick skin. Doing so would ruin a perfectly functional stylus, and you'll still keep talking, like you're afraid we'll all forget you have a mouth if you kept it shut for a single minute."

A few seconds' silence punctuated the previously chatter filled room. Yve hid a smile. Helena's reply had been spicy.

"Did you say something, Helena?" Levi blinked his indolent eyes at the prefect who swallowed the explosive words that were on the tip of her tongue. Losing her calm would mean that Levi had won.

"Settle down, children," the fourth prefect arrived and took a seat next to Yve.

"I'm still curious, Levi," Yve reminded the prefect of Cygnus that he hadn't answered her question yet.

"Hmm? It's the clever and lazy one you make Chief of Staff," he responded.

"Why?"

"Because," someone else chimed in, "he will not try to do everybody else's work, and will always have time to think." The person that answered was the recently arrived Bruce, prefect of camp Draco. "It's an interesting approach to leadership division."

"So, you agree with him?" Yve asked Bruce. The prefect of camp Draco was a fastidious, arrogant, and handsome young man whose sleek dark hair was always perfectly combed back. His good looks had earned him a few offers from modelling agencies but they had all been rejected.

"Hold it. If Bruce is in agreement with what I just said then I declare that I retract my previous statements," Levi told the others. "No offence, buddy."

"None taken," Bruce replied as he took off his uniform jacket. The number of people he would tolerate insulting jabs from could be counted on one hand. Levi was one of them. Winning an argument wasn't worth getting into a verbal spar with the prefect of Cygnus.

"It's almost time, fellow headhunters," Yve announced excitedly. All four of them were here to spectate and headhunt from the candidates that were going to battle it out at the boneyard.

_______

Time: 15:50 hours.

Location: Boneyard Desert

"If you have any questions at all, you may ask now," the man in the black suit announced.

There were none. The man had just given them a rundown of four simple rules that governed the outcome of the battle. The rules were easy to understand and remember.

One - No one, absolutely no one, was allowed to leave the Boneyard unless they were eliminated. Crossing its borders for any reason, even a medical emergency, triggered an immediate elimination for the entire team whose member(s) had committed the infraction.

Two - Only hand to hand combat was allowed. If any member from any team was found using a weapon against the other competitors, the entire team would be eliminated.

Three - Each team was allotted a number tag to hold onto. This number was not the same as the team's serial number. If and when the number tag was exposed to the other team(s), then the members of the former group would be eliminated immediately and would have to exit the boneyard.

Four - Each team was allowed only one attempt at inputting the correct numerical code. Any further attempts would invite an elimination for the team.

The rules had been announced without any further explanations and the candidates were left to make their own inferences from it.

Anri understood that the number tags being held by each team made up the twelve-digit code that won the battle. The annoying part was figuring out the permutation of the twelve digits that would open the door. The teenager's mind supplied to him the information that 8916100400000 combinations were possible in this scenario. It made his head hurt. Had they given them a hint about the permutation? He thought back to the rules and realised the answer was there. It was that simple.

"Since you've all understood the rules, I will repeat your objective one last time. Gain entry into the spaceship and win 200 points each. The points will be added to your overall score which will determine your chances of admission into Starfield." The man paused for a few seconds as he looked at the crowd of teenagers. "You will be given five minutes to pick your team members. Your time starts now."

Anri and the redhead looked at each other from where they both stood. A truce had to be drawn for the sake of the battle. Neither of them knew the capabilities of the other but they were both aware of the physical fitness and speed they each possessed. It was obvious then that having one not entirely useless team member was better than picking randomly from a large group of people and ending up with more nerds than all-rounders.