by T. R. Harris
The Que’l have unnaturally short arms for their large bodies, and they’re not used to using weapons in combat. Their battering-ram head is the only weapon they need. So like a two-legged bull, Andic charged at the Juirean, his sword and net still gripped in his hands yet not part of the initial gambit.
The Juirean was a green-haired Guard, one of the soldiers of the race. He watched the running alien with steely-eyed concentration, before moving quickly to his left at the last second, avoiding Andic’s massive head by inches. The Juirean spun like a matador, swinging the net and slicing sideways with the sword with precision and speed. The blade contacted the back of the Andic’s head as he sped past, separating the thin skin while rebounding off the hard bone, causing no damage.
Andic skidded to stop in a cloud of brown dust, turning back to face his opponent. The Juirean calmly paced back and forth in front of him, using precise steps. His eyes never left Andic, even as his body shifted from one direction to the other.
Adam saw his Que’l friend grip the sword tighter, swinging it back and forth to his right. He charged again.
The Juirean remained in the line of attack until the last moment. Then he jumped. Andic had lowered his head and came in about four feet off the ground, allowing the Juirean to clear the rampaging Que’l with ease. Andic swung his sword through empty air at the flying alien, causing him to lose his balance. He wasn’t used to doing two things at once in a battle.
In the meantime, the Juirean swept down with his sword and split open a portion of Andic’s back. Blood poured out of the wound, but it didn’t seem to faze the Hulk-like alien. He spun around and met the Juirean before the Guard was ready. Contact was finally made, sending the Juirean reeling backwards. He fell on his back as Andic charged forward once more.
The Juirean rolled to his right, casting out the net he held in his left hand as Andic ran past. It twirled around the Que’l’s thick legs, tripping the huge alien and opening up numerous cuts from the spikes embedded at the far end of the net.
Andic landed face first in a thick layer of powdery dirt. He rolled onto his back and began to fight to release the netting from his legs. The Juirean was on his feet now and moving toward the Que’l. Blood dripped from the Guard’s mouth from the savage hit he’d suffered when Andic delivered his blow; Adam wouldn’t be surprised if he also had internal injuries. But still he came, a fierce fire in his eyes and the sword held confidently in his right hand.
Andic was unable to free his legs from the net. It was tangled on the spikes, forming a secure restraint—as it was meant to do. He lifted his sword in defense, but it wouldn’t be enough against his taller and longer-armed opponent.
The Juirean swatted at Andic’s sword, forcing his short arm out to the right, exposing the Que’l soft front torso to the alien. With two lightning quick swipes, the Juirean split open Andic’s chest. But he wasn’t done. He stood up straighter and twirled the blade with his wrist before taking the hilt in both hands and driving the tip deep into the center of Andic’s chest. The Que’l’s eyes grew wide and air escaped through a gaping mouth. His eyes fluttered shut.
The Juirean stepped back and swung his arm out at his fallen foe, in some form of ritualized gesture—Juirean…not Nuorean.
A horn sounded.
“Excellent contest!” Daric’s voice bellowed from speakers on the viewing platform. “Indeed, Juireans shall rate among the elite players of the Kac. Well-played. Your immunity points will be impressive. Now clear the arena for the next challenge.”
The victorious Juirean walked proudly to the staging area. As he came closer, Adam could see the unfocused nature of his eyes and the queasiness with which he walked. He was injured, but not enough to save Andic.
He was greeted by the Overlord and two other Guards as a conquering hero. They placed him on a wooden seat, strong hands helping to hold him upright. They didn’t want anyone to know the extent of his injuries.
Adam turned to Billy Kring. “This is it, buddy. You ready?”
“Damn right! Looking forward to bashing some Nuorean noggins.”
“Remember what I told you. It’s going to get hairy out there. Just keep your head in the game and you’ll be okay.”
“And now I present a level-one immunity challenge, the first of its kind in the Kac. Bring in the challenged.”
No one moved, not until Nuorean eyes turned to the Humans. Billy was obviously the challenged, with the Nuorean being the challenger. It didn’t matter. Billy and Adam shook hands, after which the tall Texan bumped fists with Pierre and Manny.
At the center of the arena he was given a sword and net, as had the others.
A row of Nuoreans opened up between the arena and the main gate to the compound, through which a confident young alien strode, already armed with a sword and net of his own. His face was animated, golden eyes wider than any Adam had seen. He entered the arena and stopped before the viewing platform.
“Master, I thank you for the glorious opportunity,” the young Nuorean announced.
Daric nodded and smiled. “As way of background, I have met young Linoc (611) in the arena myself. I know his abilities. He is a skillful player who will demonstrate to all what a Third-Level Player is capable of. To Nuor everywhere, he is a player to admire. Take your place, Linoc (611).”
The alien walked up to Billy, looking into his eyes with amusement and confidence. He turned until they both faced Daric. The referee moved between them and raised his arms to his side, pointing at the two combatants.
“Begin!” said Daric. The arms came down and the match was underway.
Linoc and Billy were about the same size, and just as stocky. They separated by about ten feet and then assumed defensive stances, both with swords held out in front of them and the nets dangling from their hands. However, Billy was left-handed. Adam watched Linoc’s eyes as he assessed this information. He could sense the tactical mind of the experienced warrior adjusting his game plan for this unexpected development.
The pair began to circle one another, Billy shuffling his feet sideways and kicking up a small cloud of dust, while the alien moved with smooth, foot-over-foot steps. Then Linoc struck, lifting his sword high over his head and bringing it down at a steep angle toward Billy’s midsection. It was the fastest move Adam had seen any Nuorean make.
Billy stumbled backwards, out of range of the blade, even as he stuck out his sword to make contact with the whizzing metal edge of the alien’s weapon. Linoc spun around, adding speed and power to the next strike as he uncoiled. Now Billy was in full-scale retreat, running away with his sword held out behind him.
Linoc didn’t make chase. Instead he twirled his sword in his wrist and smiled, pacing back and forth, yet taking precise steps ever closer to where Billy stood, pressed against the outer barrier of the arena.
Letting his animal anger take over, Billy opened his mouth and roared, pushing off the barrier and charging at the Nuorean, swinging his blade out in front while dragging the net in the dirt behind him.
The unconcerned alien promptly stepped back and performed a perfect backflip as Billy—and Adam—had been expecting. When he landed and squared up for the attack coming from the front, he was surprised when his opponent wasn’t there. Instead, Billy had used his Human speed in the light gravity to shift direction. He was now on the alien’s right, coming at him with his sword moving in a blur.
Linoc was good; he had to be in order to shift his sword in time to meet Billy’s. Still, the impact caused him to stagger back and fall to the ground. He rolled to his left just as Billy’s blade impaled the dirt next to his head. The Human lifted the sword again.
Linoc’s vandish net flew out, the spiked end slapping against the back of Billy’s legs. He cried out and spun away, blood already soaking the back of his torn jeans.
The alien popped to his feet. He was more cautious now, content to stay back and circle his adversary. Gone, too, was the confident smile.
Billy was mad. He took his own vand
ish and twirled it high above his head, like a lasso. Then he lashed out at the alien several times, causing Linoc to back away. It was Billy’s turn to chase the alien around the arena.
Linoc then swung his own vandish into the air, causing both nets to weave together. Billy pulled, sending the Nuorean flying through the air before landing in a puff of brown dust. Linoc released the net and regained his footing, just in time to parry three powerful swipes of Billy’s blade.
The players separated. Linoc gnashed his teeth in his own show of anger and frustration. He regained his composure a moment later, standing straight and weighing the deadly sword in his hand. Billy had let go of his net, and now stood only with ressnel blade as a weapon. He backed away as Linoc stepped forward, using practiced moves to the left and right. The Human did his best to counter the swipes of the blade, but one got through, slicing open a wound on Billy’s left shoulder.
And that’s when Billy shifted the sword to his other hand—his right hand. He tried a fancy wrist twirl himself and actually managed to pull it off. He smiled.
The alien looked confused, but only for a moment. He charged again.
Billy—a natural right-hander—now had an easier time countering the alien. But then Linoc fainted to the left and moved right, placing himself within Billy’s arm reach until the combatants were only inches apart. That’s when Billy planted a strong left cross to the side of the alien’s head.
Linoc staggered backwards, swinging his sword out in front of him until the cobwebs cleared. The shocked look on his face suggested to Adam that Nuoreans weren’t used to using fisticuffs during their challenges. Without a referee in the arena, Adam figured anything was fair game.
Billy countered another of the high strikes from the alien and stepped in closer. He used the fist gripping his sword to crush Linoc’s nose. The alien fell back again. This time Billy got too cocky. The tip of the Nuorean’s blade made a thin slice across the Human’s chest. It wasn’t deep, but it was bloody.
Anger flared again and Billy charged. The alien managed to step to his side before losing his balance and tumbling to the ground. Billy’s feet became tangled in Linoc’s and he fell forward as well.
Linoc was on his feet first, backing away with blood gushing from his nose and mouth. When Billy stood, he stumbled, grimaced and grabbed his right leg. He attempted to move forward, but stumbled again, going down on one knee. He met Linoc’s eyes with fear and concern.
The alien stepped back and smiled. Although he was bloody and coated in dust and sweat, none of his injuries were debilitating. He wiped his blade on his pants, making it shine once more in the sunlight of the unknown world, in no hurry now to finish off his hobbled opponent.
Billy continued to drag his useless leg behind him until he reached the edge of the arena. Linoc came forward, slowly, never losing his grin. When the pair were about ten feet apart the alien stopped.
“With the immunity points I will acquire with your death, I will move up to First-Player status. You have redeemed my prospects. I thank you for your noble sacrifice.”
The alien crouched down and assumed an offensive stance, sword out in front, his left arm held high and to the rear for balance. He stutter-stepped forward, closing the ten-foot gap in a heartbeat, lunging with his sword.
But Billy wasn’t there. Having braced his feet against the barrier, he jumped to his left, landing on his right shoulder and rolling up to his feet. He rushed forward, no sign of injury, jabbing the tip of his sword deep into the alien’s unprotected side.
Linoc staggered off as far as he could before Billy slashed again with the blade. This time a fresh seam opened across the alien’s chest. The cloth of his sleeveless combat shirt changed colors, from a light cream color to blood red, spreading before the eyes of the cheering crowd of alien prisoners.
Linoc staggered back, waving his sword with weak movements to and fro.
Billy stood to his full height of six-foot-two and threw out his chest. Next he gripped his sword with both hands and shoved it forward, coming in low at the alien. Linoc tried a feeble attempt to block the incoming blade of Nuorean metal, but he was weak and dizzy from loss of blood. He was too late. The tip of Billy’s sword entered the abdomen and exited out the back. And then with Human strength, Billy Kring lifted the limp body, holding it high above his head, even as alien blood rained down on his face.
He let the blade—and the dead alien impaled on it—fall to the ground, then he placed a metal-tipped boot on the body and pulled the blade from the corpse. He glared at Daric, who sat in the shade of the viewing platform, a blank expression on his face. Billy tossed the bloody blade into the dirt and walked back to the staging area, defiant, victorious…and without the slightest hint of a limp.
With the contest completed, the crowd surrounding the arena fell into a stunned silence, unsure what the Nuoreans would do after the death of one of their own. When no immediate response came, a few cheers began to rise up, soon joined by hundreds. The sound was deafening, and made up of cackles, whistles, hoots and hollers as each species expressed their excitement in their own particular voice.
Eventually Daric tried to talk. It took a minute or so for the crowd to quiet down, enough so he could be heard.
“As it is with first-level immunity challenges, the outcome is never guaranteed. The challenge is awarded to the Human Billy Kring. We honor the sacrifice Linoc (611) Kallen-Noc has made to further our traditions. Through this challenge, a more-detailed assessment of the Human race can be made, helping to finalize the immunity points assigned to the species. To the Nuoreans viewing, let it be known that only the most-qualified shall be allowed to challenge the Humans. This restriction shall also apply to the Juirean race. We came to the Kac to renew our supply of worthy immunity challenge opponents. From the contests we have witnessed today, we have succeeded in that goal. Prepare yourselves accordingly. Our adventure in the Kac is just beginning. The future is bright for our people and for the opportunity of more glorious immunity challenges to come. Resume your normal duties.”
A squad of Nuoreans entered the staging area and escorted Adam and the Juirean Overlord to the viewing platform. Daric awaited them, his golden eyes narrow, expression unreadable.
“That was indeed an entertaining—and quite unexpected—demonstration I just witnessed.” He stepped down to Adam’s level and glared into his eyes. “You think you have achieved something beneficial here today…both of you. You are wrong. All you have done is increased the waiting list of Nuoreans wishing to challenge your races. We do not run from a challenge. In fact, the greater the danger, the more we wish to participate. I will have to be judicial in my granting of challenges, lest both your races will be consumed in a relatively short time. That would be a shame. I wish to preserve your species for many hundreds of years of excellent matches. Unfortunately, I will not always have a say in the assignments. There is such a hunger among my people for advancement challenges shielded by immunity points that I’m afraid any effort to slow the pace of contests coming your way will not prevail. Regrettably, this means your respective species will be the first to go extinct within your Milky Way galaxy.”
Adam and the Juirean were excused and set free to return to their camps. A few moments later, the eight-foot-tall Overlord leaned over toward Adam and spoke.
“I am Safnos fe Candoc, and I see now this figurative picture you referred to earlier. You are correct. We are not enemies, at least not any longer. The Nuoreans are the real threat. We must work together towards their eventual defeat. And the first task at hand will be to escape from this prison.”
Adam placed a hand on the back of the alien. “That’s music to my ears, buddy.”
“I hear no music,” said the Overlord. “Perhaps it is the wind.”
“Yeah, that must be it.”
52
“They came out of the Radis Spur and then retreated back into it,” Admiral Alan Olsen pointed out to the rest of the assembled officers, politicians and thin
k-tankers on the group comm link. “We also know they came from Andromeda, but not using their conventional drive. Therefore, they must have a way of jumping between galaxies, and I bet it’s located somewhere in the Spur.”
“And your proposal is we close off the region, preventing the invaders from accessing the rest of the galaxy?” asked the Juirean Overlord Nadar fe Xanis. “They have already filtered throughout our space, absconding with thousands of individuals represented hundreds of species.”
“Yet now they’re all back in Radis. This is our best chance to lock them down.”
“I concur,” said the Formilian representative linked to the remote conference. His name was Rasx and he was commander of the native fleet—all three hundred eight ships. “If they are indeed a single race, and without any radical technological advantage to use against us, surely the combined forces of the galaxy can repel them.”
“One would think so,” said Olsen. “They caught us flat-footed with that last encounter, but not again. We have a lot of resources available to us, if we combine our forces.”
“And I ask again, who shall lead this combined force?” asked the Juirean.
This again? The chain of command seemed to be the only thing on the alien’s mind. “It’s obvious both our races—the Humans and Juireans—have the most military assets in the galaxy,” the Admiral began. “And since command is of prime concern to most of us here, I propose joint leadership.”
“How would that be organized?”
“Earth and Juir would each appoint a senior military commander and the two of them would have equal authority.”
“The Juirean fleet outnumbers the Humans three-to-one. Why would we agree to equal command authority with the Humans?”
Olsen wanted to say: Because a year ago a small band of Humans kicked your ass in spite of your superior numbers. Instead, he replied: “Because it’s good for the galaxy. Besides, the individual fleets would still be under local command. Only the major strategies would be worked out between the top brass.”
