by A A Warren
The tattooed giant bellowed a war cry and charged towards Talon. His footsteps pounded across the metal grates, echoing like gongs in the octagonal room.
Talon darted sideways, slashing out with one of his swords. Even as his blade cut through the air, the big man pivoted. With lightning speed, he slammed his forearm into Talon’s attack arm before the gladiator’s blow could connect. The force of the block nearly spun Talon in a circle. He struggled to recover his balance, as the man swung another meaty fist at him. He could feel the breeze from the near miss lift his hair as Gajoro’s tree trunk arm flew over his head.
Not just big, Talon thought. He’s fast as well…
Recovering, Talon ducked under the big man’s arm, and slammed his knuckles into his opponent’s gut. Beneath the fat and blubber, he felt a wall of rock-hard muscle.
He popped up behind the towering giant and stomped his boot on the crease of the man’s knee. Gajoro dipped down, striking the metal grate with a loud crash. Talon raised his twin swords above his head.
Before he could strike, the roar of the crowd reached a feverish pitch. He heard servo motors humming behind him. His instincts checked his attack. He turned and saw a metal pole emerging from the center of the octagon.
A ring circled the pole, and a tiny red lens protruded from the band of metal. A beam of light lanced out from the crimson lens, striking the armored wall at waist height.
It only took Talon a fraction of a second to realize the lens ring was spinning, and the beam was moving towards them. But in that short time, the deadly energy blade swung closer. Talon threw himself to the ground and rolled away from Gajoro.
The beam passed overhead, and he felt a wave of heat emanate from the glowing line of energy. As his body clanged across the floor, the crimson beam continued to spin, moving over his prone opponent and circling around the chamber.
The big man lumbered to his feet. He grinned, revealing a wide mouth full of implanted metal fangs. Dipping his giant hands, he removed a slim metal rod from his belt. With the click of a button, the rod extended, springing into a four-foot long club. Tiny metal dots emerged from the club’s surface, and an energy field hummed to life, shimmering around the weapon. He raised the club over his head and charged toward Talon.
The drum beat continued, drowning out the roar of the crowd. Talon sprang forward, locking his blades before him in a cross block. Gajoro swung the energized club down. The impact forced Talon to his knees. He grunted in pain as the knotted muscles in his arms buckled. Moving faster than his bulk would seem to allow, Gajoro swung again, this time dipping his weapon under Talon’s.
Talon grit his teeth as the blow connected, and the energy field struck his flesh. A wave of pain flooded his nerves. The power of the swing drove him backwards, and he staggered into the arena wall with a dull thud. He heard a loud hiss moving towards him. Glancing to his left, he saw the crimson beam, carving a smoking trail in the metal wall. It was heading towards him…
He ducked and rolled across the floor, as the beam once again spun overhead. The drums increased their pace, and he saw the metal ring spinning faster and faster, driving the beam in a circle through the chamber. With an electric hum, the ring slid lower down the pole. Now the beam swept just above the floor.
Gajoro leapt up, letting the deadly energy blade pass beneath him. He slammed back down, and the floor shook and rattled beneath his weight. He lumbered toward Talon’s position, swinging the club down with both hands. Talon rolled left and the energy field crackled as it struck the plates where his head had been a second before.
Slashing out with his blade, Talon cut a gash in the behemoth’s calf.
Gajoro stumbled, then swung the club around. Talon leapt backwards, dodging the mighty blow. Blood flew from his blade and spattered across the floor.
Talon grinned. “First blood is mine, Gajoro.”
“Talon, look out!” a voice screamed from the stands, raising above the crowd and the frantic drums.
Talon glanced up… it was Vaki who had warned him. He heard the whine of the spinning ring… it had sped up again, moving faster around the arena. Its deadly beam was nearly upon him.
Moving without thought, the powerful muscles in his legs propelled him into a backflip. The glowing beam passed underneath his tumbling body. Landing on both feet, he whipped his arm back and hurled one of his scimitars at Gajoro.
The man batted it aside with the club. Then his eyes grew wide with surprise, as he realized the block had left him off balance. He hopped over the beam as it shot towards him, but the glowing blade caught the edge of his rear foot. He roared in pain, as a trail of smoke rose from the blackened, severed flesh of his big toe.
Even as he landed, Talon hurled his second blade. The scimitar whistled as it spiraled through the air. Gajoro dropped to the metal floor with a loud crash, but he was too late… the weapon slashed across his right shoulder. The razor-sharp edge tore open the blubbery flesh above his bicep, sending a fountain of blood cascading down his arm.
Talon glanced left and right, noting the position of the two spinning energy beams. The higher one was coming around again. He ducked down, then slid his axe from his plasma harness. With a loud hum, the fiery plasma blade ignited. The crowd roared, stamping their feet in the stands, matching the pace of the frenetic drums.
The beam passed over Gajoro as he once again lumbered to his feet. He bared his metal teeth, and spittle flew from his mouth as he bellowed an angry roar. He wiped a reddened palm across his face, staining his skin with his own blood. “Kuta yarek, enough play! Now I crush you, little man!”
“You can try,” Talon replied through grit teeth.
He swung his blazing axe, but Gajoro heaved his bulk sideways, dodging the blow. The club cracked into Talon’s ribs again, sending a white-hot wave of agony through his nervous system.
He flew backwards and crashed into the floor. His vision blurred, and the drums and cheers of the crowd became muted. A single thought pounded through his head.
The beam! The beam is coming!
He staggered to his feet, watching as Gajoro jumped up and over the low energy blade. Talon rolled forward, diving over the deadly beam. He stood up and slashed at the big man’s legs, but his opponent jabbed down with the club. The weapon’s energy field blocked the plasma axe, and sent his swing rebounding backwards.
Before Talon could recover, Gajoro spun the club around, and smashed the weapon into Talon’s forearm. As the discharge screamed through his muscles, his fingers went limp. He lost his grip on his weapon, and the glowing axe clattered to the ground.
Talon reached out, but the high-pitched whine of the energy beam drew his attention. He yanked his arm back and threw himself into another roll.
Gajoro hopped over the beam and lumbered towards him. Before Talon could recover his senses, he felt Gajoro’s meaty fingers wrap around his throat. The crowd leapt to their feet as the hulking brute lifted him into the air by his neck. Cords of muscles popped in Talon’s neck and shoulders, as his opponent tightened his strangling grip.
Gajoro grinned at him, revealing a mouth full of bloodstained metal teeth. His dark beady eyes held a gleam of savage cruelty… With one arm, he hoisted Talon higher into the air. As if on cue, Talon saw a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye…
The higher energy beam ratcheted up several feet along the pole, and the lower beam deactivated. The match was rigged. Gajoro had been waiting for this moment. When the beam swung around again, it would pass over Gajoro.
But it would decapitate Talon’s head from his body.
He clawed at Gajoro’s fingers, but he could not pry the man’s grip loose. Even as he kicked and flailed, he could see a black cloud surrounding the edges of his vision. His hulking opponent was choking the life from him.
No, he thought. He won’t get the chance… the beam is coming!
Talon reared back and threw one of his legs over the hulking brute's shoulder. Levering his body prone in the air, h
e raised his other leg and slammed the sole of his boot into Gajoro’s face.
He heard a loud crack as the cartilage in the man’s nose snapped. Gajoro released his grip on Talon’s neck, and he tumbled to the ground. His opponent’s hands flew to his face, as a jet of blood gushed down his chin.
Gasping for air, Talon looked up… his vision cleared, and he saw the glowing beam swing overhead, continuing its circuit around the room. The lower beam remained deactivated.
Gajoro bellowed an inhuman scream of rage. He stomped towards Talon, his glowing club held before him in a two handed grip.
Talon’s eyes darted to his right… His axe lay on the ground a few meters away, its fiery blade whining as it carved into the metal of the floor. And a few feet past that, the pole that supported the spinning beam rose up from the arena's floor.
A blur of motion caught Talon’s eye. He rolled to his right, as Gajoro’s club swung down, slamming into the arena floor. The beam continued spinning overhead, too high to catch the big man’s head in its deadly path.
The giant man swung again, and the club crumpled a metal grill to his right. Gajoro yanked the weapon free from the mangled floor plate. He and raised it over his head in a double-handed grip.
Talon rolled again… his fingers gripped the hilt of the axe. A shadow fell over him. Gajoro stood poised, ready to strike.
Time slowed to a crawl as Talon let his reflexes take over. He felt his fingers close around the shaft of his fiery weapon. Glancing up, he saw the crimson beam, moving across the far wall. Gajoro swung his club down at Talon’s prone body. The drums continued to pound, their rhythm a pulsing heartbeat of blood and rage.
Talon threw the axe across the floor. The weapon spun as it slid over the metal deck plates. As the beam spun closer, the fiery blade slashed into the central pole, tearing it free from the floor.
A curtain of sparks erupted from the sheared metal, distracting Gajoro. His bulging, bloodstained arms halted their swing in mid air, and he turned to face the explosion. As the loose pole toppled over, the glowing beam angled down, slicing through his outstretched arms. His energy club clattered to the ground and rolled across the floor.
Gajoro looked down, as smoke rose from the cauterized stumps of his severed limbs. The beam deactivated, and the drumming ceased. The roaring cheers of the crowd came to an abrupt halt. The room was nearly silent. Only a few grunts and murmurs of surprise drifted through the charged air.
Gajoro’s mouth gaped wide, but only a low, whimpering groan emerged. His eyes bulged in their sockets. His face was deathly pale, and Talon guessed the man was in shock from his injuries.
Talon lifted himself off the ground. Panting for breath, his eyes glinting with the bloodlust of battle, he grabbed Gajoro’s club off the ground. He stood over the prostrate man and hefted the mighty weapon over his head. The wounded brute didn’t even look up… he appeared unable to tear his eyes away from his charred limbs.
The muscles in Talon’s arms and shoulders tensed. He lined the club up with the injured man’s head, preparing to deliver the killing blow. But something held him back. A familiar twinge, a tingling in his skull. His crystal eye pulsed with inner fire.
“You are free now… free to make a choice…” Her words echoed through his mind, like a fragment of a half-remembered song.
Salena…
He remembered back on the lifeboat, after their crash landing… Vaki had said his eye was glowing, that he called Salena’s name. But Salena was gone now. Swallowed by a collapsing dimension that imprisoned an ancient alien god.
Was it possible? Could their bond still link them together?
He brushed a clump of sweat-soaked hair from his eyes and glanced up into the stands. Queen Katara leaned forward, her eyes half lidded, her glistening lips parted… Her pale skin had flushed with hunger and desire.
He turned and saw Vaki. She was staring at him, her eyes wide with concern.
He looked away, unable to meet her gaze. He turned back to Gajoro. The man’s head slumped down as he awaited his fate.
Talon tossed the club aside. He looked up to Katara.
“I am a gladiator no longer,” he shouted. “When I slay, it is not for sport.”
Makor stiffened. He approached the railing next to Katara, and glared down at Talon with his inscrutable yellow stare. “Honor demands you finish this! To let an injured opponent live is to taint his legacy with shame—”
A violent tremor cut off the alien’s words. The crowd glanced around the chamber as the arena walls creaked and shook. Their low murmurs rose to a series of panicked shouts and cries. Gajoro, weak from shock and blood loss, toppled over. Talon stumbled backwards as the metal grill beneath his feet buckled and twisted. A jagged gash tore open across the floor.
“Orion’s blazing bow!” he gasped. A cloud of steam belched forth from the opening. Another tremor struck, and Talon felt his legs wobble beneath him as the entire room shifted. Bits of metal and debris fell from the ceiling.
Then the vibrations died down. The startled shouts of the miners increased in volume.
Katara rose to her feet. “Silence, you fools! It is merely another quake. Such cowardly mewling is not fit for those who would serve the Toho Clan!”
As her words echoed through the room, the crowd lowered their eyes, and once again fell silent. Talon felt his pulse quicken. Something about this woman had bewitched him… He could not tear his eyes away from her.
“You have won, Talon.” Her dusky eyes darted down to Gajoro, and a frown marred her beautiful features. “Quite a spectacular victory, I might add. The planet itself seems moved by your triumph. You will rest, and your wounds will be treated. Then you will join me for dinner, and we will discuss the aid you request.”
She spun around as her throne folded in on itself and lowered into the platform with a mechanical hum. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “There will be a price, warrior. Of that, you can be sure.”
Her white-robed ladies-in-waiting arranged themselves at her side, and she exited the chamber. Makor gave Talon one last silent stare, then he followed her into the shadows beyond the arena.
Chapter Fifteen
Talon paced down the long, dark corridor. A pair of security guards flanked him on either side, clad in scuffed, battered armor. He could not see their features under the tinted helmets, but he could tell one of them was an insectile Kyt’kan. A port on the back of the alien’s armor exposed his shimmering wings, folded against the rear plating.
He was not bound, but the men had insisted he leave his weapons in his quarters. He felt naked without his axe on his back, but he complied with their demands. The sooner he and Vaki could get off this planet, the better.
As they turned the corner, a shadowy figure stood in their path, impeding their progress. He stepped forward, letting a beam of light fall across his face.
It was Makor.
“I will take him the rest of the way,” he ordered. “You two are relieved.”
The two guards glanced at each other, their expressions unreadable beneath their visors. Then they turned and marched down the hall, their footsteps echoing off the smooth metal walls.
Talon stood his ground and glared at the tall aquatic alien. “You gave me your word we would not be harmed.”
Makor tilted his head. “And were you?”
“I nearly lost my head.”
Makor’s bubbling breath drifted through the air. “And yet here you stand. Head and all. It would seem the only one who was harmed was Gajoro. I knew a true student of Orex Griff would have no trouble against a foolish lout like him.”
Makor gestured down the corridor. “Come. The queen is waiting.”
Talon grit his teeth, then shrugged. He followed the aquatic alien down the corridor. "Good. I am eager to leave this planet before another quake tears this place apart."
“There are active volcanoes buried deep beneath the ice,” Makor replied. “It was only a tremor, nothing to concern yourself wi
th.”
“I’ve felt a few of these tremors since we crashed into this ball of ice. They seem to be growing stronger.”
Makor shot him a sideways glance. “I would think it would take more to unnerve a veteran of the arena like yourself.”
“Speaking of the arena, you seem to hold my old mentor in high regard.”
Makor nodded. “Orex was a skilled warrior, true. But I found his honor lacking.”
Talon stiffened. “Orex was the most honorable man I ever met,” he snapped. “He’s the only one who ever gave a damn about me, since the day Rufa Omdura found me in the blood pits.”
Makor turned his gaze down the corridor. “I do not expect you to understand. You are not of the Consortium. You do not know our ways.”
“So you keep saying,” Talon muttered. “But in my experience, true honor goes beyond borders on a map.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Makor replied. “Seeing as Orex's debt is now yours.” Something in his tone gave Talon the distinct impression that the alien was grinning beneath his hydro-mask.
“What is this debt you speak of?” Talon muttered. “I do not like the sound of it.”
“In due time,” the alien gurgled. “For now, you have other matters to occupy your attention.”
As they turned a corner, a row of workers marched single file along the wall, moving in the opposite direction. Their faces and bodies were hidden beneath dusty, grime-covered suits and helmets. An electronic voice called over the loudspeaker.
“OPERATIONS CREW AA-7, PLEASE REPORT TO ORE-SLICER BAY, SECTOR 10-C9. NEXT SHIFT BEGINS IN TWELVE MINUTES.”
Talon narrowed his eyes as the faceless horde shuffled past them. “How many shifts do you operate here? Your ore-slicers seem to run day and night.”
Makor kept his eyes forward as they continued down the corridor. “We are here to work. Productivity equals profit.”
They stopped at an arched doorway. A gold Aoshun symbol stretched across the smooth metal panels. A pair of guards stood on either side of the doors, wielding vicious looking force pikes. Their armor was a mish-mash of the mining colony’s security guard uniforms, and black plates scavenged from Kujita warriors.
