In one hand, Nika Pešek holds a mid-size pouch that rings with the sound of jangling metal. In her other, she clasps a stand, the pole tucked underneath her arm and a flat panel covered in dials, sliders and switches marked with symbols raised on one end. In her mind, she holds just under a fortnight’s worth of research into music theory and composition. And upon her face, she bears her smile of calm determination. With these things, she will conquer the obstacle before her. Nika nods to William. “I can divide my focus. Should hardly be impossible to notice the odd motion and slow it down if we need. Much as it hopefully it won’t come to that, I would hardly be surprised.” [i]After all, we’ll be giving them a shock; their team is skilled, professional – they won’t expect us to match them.[/i] She has, of course, put some research into their competitors, too. [i]One responds to shock by instinct – and we all know what Ishtar’s instinct will likely be.[/i] Beyond that, little can be known. Impersonal fact-finding can only extend so far, after all. Despite this, Nika Pešek exudes confidence as the team from Marduk stride out into the light of the arena. This is, after all, but one more obstacle, of which she has faced many and always succeeded. No matter that this is the last, that she is so close as to almost hear her tender, comforting and oh so painfully familiar voice whispering in her ear. She will overcome it, as she has done all the others. Her heart thunders in her chest.