“Probably names,” Krag thought.
Eight of the cat-like warriors stepped forward. Each removed all of their clothing except for a small loin cloth, showing deference to the Human concept of modesty. For the first time, all four humans got a good look at an almost nude Elonian warrior.
“Impressive,” Krag whispered to Keiko.”
“Kind of sexy, in a panther sort of way.”
“Decorum, Madam Ambassador.”
“Just voicing a thought.”
Repeating the process, eight more lined up on the opposite side. Once the two lines had been established, the commander split each one into two groups of four.
Facing Krag, the commander asked, “Do you wish to compete, Captain Marston?”
“Of course, Commander Tarunga. May I watch a few matches first?”
“That request has been anticipated. Let me explain the rules. First, no claws. If one of the participant extends a claw he is immediately disqualified. I suspect that some sort of punishment would accompany such a violation. If either displays his teeth in an attacking manner, a point is awarded to his opponent. If the opponent reaches three points then he is the winner.”
“Well, since I don’t have claws or my teeth aren’t used for combat, neither will be a problem.”
“Next, the goal is to either throw your opponent to the ground and hold him there or push him outside of the ring. If you achieve either of those, you are declared the winner.”
“Is there a time limit?”
“An eighth of a sedeca.” Krag did the conversion and came up with a little over seven minutes.
This group,” the Commander pointed to two lines of four facing each other, “are expert grapplers. They have fought in the arena and won many awards.”
Pointing to the second double line of four each, he continued. “These are novices. They are in training, readying themselves to become arena gladiators.”
Pointing a paw at an Elonian at the end of one of the novice lines, the commander ordered, “Deepahin, step out.”
With ears dropping, the young guardsman stepped away from the end spot.
“That will be your place, Captain Marston.”
“Thank you, Commander Tarunga.” Untying and removing his karate top, he handed it to Keiko and whispered, “Here goes nothing. Wish me luck, Little One.”
“Go get um, Big Guy.” Keiko refrained from giving Krag a slap on his rump as he left her side.
Krag, trying to hold some sort of self-confidence, strode to the spot formerly held by Deepahin and assumed a relaxed, ready pose. Looking down his line and across to the four facing him, he saw that he stood a good head shorter than the shortest Elonian competing.
Again mumbling under his breath, Krag commented, “Well, I said I wanted to learn more about Elonia.”
Glancing at Princess Analyn, Keiko saw the hand gesture and walked over, performing her salutation and taking a place beside the Princess.
“Ambassador Suzume.”
“Princess Analyn.”
“Captain Marston is showing great courage in his willingness to compete in our modest tournament.”
“Maybe more stubborn. Hard-headed.”
“Hard headed?”
“Single mindedness. Unwilling to change or stop.”
“Some of our Elonians have the same problem.”
“I will say that the Captain does change his mind, is willing to take a different direction, if the circumstances warrant it. He is flexible that way.”
Is Captain Marston considered a superior male among humans?
“I would say so.”
Princess Analyn pondered the Ambassador’s answer. The two watched as the first match began.
Commander Tarunga, still holding center, pointed to two grapplers.
The two entered the ring, ending on either side of their commander. Both faced the Princess and saluted. Next, both faced the Commander and again saluted. Now facing each other, they backed apart to the edge of the drawn circle. After looking at each participant, Commander Tarunga backed up to his edge of the circle, raised his paw. After a pause, he dropped his arm and shouted, “Begin!”
The din from the crowd immediately rose to an ear-splitting level. Shouts of encouragement or groans of dismay separated themselves from the cacophony of noise. Many raised and waved arms. Some cupped their paws around their muzzles to project their shouts. Tails rose, flicked or swayed, following the ebbs and flows of the match.
Watching, analyzing, Krag learned.
Both Elonians rushed towards the center, arms wide as though they intended to hug. Once within reaching distance, a flurry of grabs and slaps resulted in both wrestlers achieving anchored positions. Both subtly pushed and pulled, twisted and straightened, attempting to achieve a position of balance.
Through it all, the crowd grew louder, more boisterous, each spectator cheering on his or her favorite.
As Krag watched, he saw one fighter’s leg begin to buckle. Not much, just enough. The other Elonian immediately took advantage, redirected his torque force and collapsed his opponent down to one knee. Once there, the match ended quickly. The winner succeeded in pushing his opponent onto his back and pinned the hapless warrior.
Commander Tarunga yelled, “Finished!”
Both combatants disentangled and stood, one with arms, tail and ears hanging, the other with arms, tail and ears raised.
The already cacophonous crowd grew even louder.
Pointing to the winner, Commander Tarunga announced, “Victor!”
The thunderous noise increased. The victor strutted to his place in the winner’s line. The loser slunk to the observer’s line.
The room quieted down. The Commander pointed to two novices. They rose, performed the same opening ritual as the experts had performed and fought. The room became just as loud, not caring if the fighters were experts or novice.
To Krag, the obvious lack of technique became apparent as soon as the two novices began the positioning stage of the match.
Analyzing as he watched, Krag came to the conclusion that the Elonian type of wrestling more closely resembled Sumo wrestling, rather than Judo, freestyle or Greco-Roman. It did have the pinning attribute, rather than the simple touching of Sumo wrestling, but it still came very close. He began to form his plans.
Three more expert matches came and went, mixed with the novice rounds. Now came Krag’s turn.
The Elonian audience went crazy as the Human mirrored his opponent through the opening ritual. Once Krag and his opponent faced off, the Elonian Commander stepped back, dropped his arm and gave the command, “Begin!”
As in the seven proceeding rounds, both Human and Elonian rushed forward. But Krag stopped short, arresting his momentum. The Novice took one-too-many steps. Rather than push back, Krag slapped the Elonians arms up and dove for his opponent’s midsection.
The longer, lankier Elonian found himself draped over Krag’s back. Not knowing what to do, he grabbed Krag around his waist and tried to lift. By this time Krag had achieved his first goal. He had one arm locked around the knee of the novice and his lead leg in back of the other’s support leg. Krag pulled up on the knee, pushed with his shoulder and locked the leg now completely supporting the hapless opponent.
With one final heave, Krag succeeded in flopping the Elonian on his back. Still on top, Krag continued pulling the trapped knee towards the Opponent’s head, locking his furry shoulders to the mat.
“Finished!” Commander Tarunga bellowed.
With the adrenaline rush of combat and victory running through his veins, Krag jumped to his feet, made a fist, pumped it once and hissed, “Yeah, baby”.
Embarrassed by his outburst, Krag immediately reverted back to his professional persona and casually stood. Looking at Keiko, he saw a large grin, a few hand-claps and two thumbs-up.
Being announced as the winner, Krag went to sit with, and be one of, the now-remaining eight competitors. Looking at Keiko, he wondered what she and th
e Princess were discussing.
Going back to Keiko’s previous answer, Princess Analyn asked, “Do you and Captain Marston bond?”
Keiko had to suss through what the Princess meant. After she figured it out, she responded, “Yes. We have bonded, become intimate. Humans use the term ‘involved’.”
“Are you a bonded pair?”
Again, this took some thought on Keiko’s part. “In the sense that we have committed ourselves to each other, no. I would say that we are shipmates or friends who enjoy bonding. We have a term, ‘friends with benefits’.”
“I see, Ambassador Suzume.”
“Please, Princess Analyn, if we are to talk of such things, call me Keiko.”
“Only if you call me Anyl. In private, of course.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” Keiko said this with a teethless smile and a wink. She got a double ear-flick in return.
Princess thought some more about her discussion with Ambassador Suzume.
Round two. Three more matches added to Krag’s learning of the Elonian fighting style. He knew that his next opponent saw only one of Krag’s techniques. He knew that he could not use the same style as before. The Elonians were quicker than him, have a longer reach than him. Their legs, hips and tail gave them greater trunk strength. Watching these three rounds helped Krag form a plan.
Krag’s turn came. He and his opponent performed the honor ritual, took their places and waited for the signal.
“Begin!”
As in every other match, Krag’s opponent charged forward, arms wide, preparing for the traditional Elonian opening. Krag feigned his charge, took two steps, guessed his distance from the wrestling circle’s edge and stopped. After a quick hitch, the Elonian novice continued his charge. Just as the cat-like being came within reach, Krag made his move.
Stepping forward and across with his right leg, Krag slightly crouched, grabbed the Elonian’s furry wrist with his left hand, hooked his right arm under the novice’s arm pit and pivoted counter-clockwise. Now with a firm grip and his hips lower than that of his opponent’s, Krag arched his back, shoved his buttocks into the Elonian’s midsection and pulled down on the furry arm. Once he redirected the novice’s momentum, he straightened his legs and pulled harder. This caused the novice’s momentum to carry him up and over Krag’s back.
The boisterous crowd gasped as they saw their warrior’s feet and tail fly over his head, continuing until the Elonian ended up parallel with the wrestling mat and slammed on his back.
“Finished!” announced Commander Tarunga, after he saw that the Novice’s feet had cleared the burnt-orange circle of the wrestling ring.
The round took less than three seconds. The crowd, stunned, stayed silent longer. Then the roar of congratulations exploded. It lasted through the formal acknowledgement of winner and loser. It continued through the two walks, one to the viewing section and one to the winner’s seat.
“And you say that Captain Marston is not a warrior?”
“No, Your Highness, um, Anyl. This will take some getting used to. He is a star warrior. His battles are in his fighting ships.”
“Yet he fights like a warrior. You said you believe that he is a superior male”
“Yes, I believe that.”
“And you bond with him. Do you bond with Mack?”
“Um, no.”
“Why not? Is it because he is not a superior male?”
“No, it is not that, at all. Let me phrase this correctly. You could say that humans have three levels of bonding ritual. Of course I am speaking in general terms, not anything with absolute meaning. A line of continuation, if you will, with three distinct points for discussion.”
“I understand. You are speaking of overall human natural progression, of relationship growth, not specific individuals.”
“Correct. The least committed level of bonding is called ‘casual sex’. In this case, bonding is treated more as a physical sport. Some males and females, men and women, indulge in casual sex with only a single partner. Others with multiple partners. It depends on each individual’s moral code.”
“Is this what you and Captain Marston partake in? Casual sex with only one partner?”
“I don’t think so. I believe Krag and I, Captain Marston and I, are at the next level. In this level, there is a mutual recognition of each other, a form of honor and respect. Single partner bonding is at this level. I would say that this level is an exploration point. Each person is learning about the other and attempting to form a relationship beyond simply bonding.”
“I wish I could partake in bonding.”
“Why can’t you, Anyl?”
“Royalty. Second in line to the throne. Anyone I choose would immediately be raised to a higher esteem, given more prestige, even if it isn’t warranted. Besides, Father has plans to pair-bond me with some son of some clan leader.”
“That’s sad. Is that why you are out here?”
“Partially. I hate palace intrigue, sneaking around, having hidden agendas, forming plots and plans to promote one’s own power and position. Also, I love to learn. Especially about Ballison. That is really why Father built Wisdom Seeker.”
“That’s the same with me. With my father being an inter-planetary ambassador, I always get dragged around to parties or ceremonies or confabs. And I love the stars.”
“Two sisters of different races.”
“Keiko liked that. She liked the Princess. What started out as negotiation seemed to be turning into friendship.
The two turned back to the matches, just in time to watch Krag march to his position on the mat.
After two rounds of watching and wrestling, Krag knew that he faced the best novice. He had no doubts that any of the masters could have easily subdued him, but he had been holding his own against the less-skilled and less-talented Elonian warriors. And he, being who he is, really wanted to win.
Krag still had one surprise move in his bag of tricks, one he had saved for this situation, winner take all.
This novice grappler displayed intelligence and wariness. He didn’t charge. He crouched and slunk forward, arms out, paws at the ready. Krag matched his slow advance, but only until the quarter point. Half-way between the wrestling ring’s center and outer boundary, Krag charged.
His opponent growled, showing teeth. Sir Mahajani tensed. Buster stepped forward, away from Vidhee and towards his captain. Commander Tarunga signalled one paw appendage indicating a point awarded to Krag and also stepped forward.
With his opponent, whom he now knew as Gopai, a few steps in, Krag charged. Two steps past the wrestling circle’s center point, Krag leaped. His heavy-world leg strength easily allowed him to close the distance in air.
Torquing his body and succeeding in turning to a forty-five degree angle, Krag hit Gopai chest against chest. The novice warrior staggered a step back. Krag hooked his right arm over Gopai’s left shoulder, shot his left arm between the Elonians legs and landed, with his feet behind the Elonian’s. With his momentum continuing, Krag anchored and lifted. He used all of his heavy-world strength to hoist the larger being off of the ground, while allowing his momentum to continue. He converted it into a rotational force, spun, again counter-clockwise, and threw the hapless Gopai like a discus thrower.
Even with this extreme effort, the actions of Gopai drew Krag’s fascination. The cat-like being used his tail and legs to twist himself into a four-pawed landing. Then Krag’s fascination turned to concern. Gopai fully bared his teeth, extended all four sets of claws and charged.
Before the berserk Elonian took two strides, Buster closed the distance, grabbed the warrior by his throat and lifted him off the ground. With his off hand straight like the tip of a spear, Buster prepared to drive his metal fingers into Gopai’s skull.
“No,” Krag bellowed. If he had included Buster’s name, Gopai would have been dead.
Buster froze with the Elonian’s feet a foot off of the floor and choking to death.
“Buster, set him
down.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
Without ceremony or concern, Buster dropped the struggling novice. By this time, Sir Mahajani had arrived and prepared to intervene.
The entire room held its breath, watching in anxious anticipation. Silence reigned throughout. No Elonian had ever seen a synthetic act like this.”
“Buster, return to Vidhee.”
“I can’t do that, Captain. There is still a possible threat. You are still vulnerable.”
“Ok. Return to me and guard.”
Buster backed away from the sprawled Elonian while Sir Mahajani took his place. Gopai raised his head, saw his Liege and immediately crouched on all fours, claws retracted and tail lying flat. If he could have, he would have sunk into the mat and disappeared.
Sir Mahajani didn’t shout. He didn’t raise his voice. But the undertone came through strong and clear.
“You have dishonoured the Wisdom Seeker pack.” Gopai grovelled and made every effort to get smaller. “You have dishonoured My Princess.” The chastised novice mewed in anguish. “You have dishonoured the Kaporine clan. Leave. You are confined to your den. I will decide on your penance.”
Krag had never seen an Elonian on all fours. Now he did as he watched the wretched warrior slink off the mat, across the pathway and out the hatch. Sir Mahajani turned away from his flagitious novice and faced Krag, a scowl on his muzzle and a grip on the pommel of his sword.
“My deepest apologies,” Krag voiced as he rose. “I let my desire to win overcome my reasoning. I acted without thought.”
“You have shown yourself to be a warrior. Warriors fight to win. Warriors do not practice politics. I am not the one to whom you need to apologize. Follow me.”
Krag followed the large bodyguard to his Princess. Stepping aside, sir Mahajani stepped back and gave Krag space to approach. Krag took a full step, dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
The entire room sucked in air, waiting for what would come next.
“Princess Analyn, I humbly ask forgiveness for the actions of one of my charges. If he has broken any laws or rules, I accept full responsibility for his actions. I wilfully accept whatever punishments or disciplines are required.”
Waking in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 2) Page 31
