Mate-Prize

by Renee Bond

  Every Everlasting vehicle had at least a few soldiers perched on top of it. Most had more. The rest of them were gathered in a wide circle, creating a de facto ring.

  “This has taken quite a turn,” said Ellon as he came down our ship’s boarding ramp just behind me.

  “I can’t tell if it’s a good one or a bad one,” Daxen said.

  “Even if you win,” Jensi said, “they may not want to just accept it.”

  “I’ve taken care of that,” said Daxen with a smug smile. “Our ship’s sensor suite is recording images all around the ship - and it will record the fight too. Those images are being broadcast live to the whole system, back to the Bain, and to a few dozen other Triumphant systems besides. The whole fucking galaxy is going to know exactly what happens down here. If you win, and the Everlasting soldiers try something shady, then their clan’s reputation will take quite a hit.”

  “Hopefully that’s enough to keep them civil when I win,” I said. I thought it would be.

  I hoped it would be.

  “We’ve got your back no matter what,” said Jensi. Who, of course, had a fully loaded automatic rifle slung over his shoulder. The rest of my squad was decked out in full combat gear. I was wearing only my service trousers and shirt. I didn’t want anyone accusing me of cheating for wearing body armor.

  I took a deep breath. Closed my eyes. Began reaching into myself, finding my place of calm. Of clarity.

  As I always did before entering combat.

  Curious civilian ships began clustering around the Triumphant fighters, which were still hovering over the base. They’d undoubtedly figured that their “training sortie” was over, but apparently none of them wanted to miss the spectacle. Crowds of civilians had even begun gathering outside the fence that surrounded the Everlasting base.

  All told, hundreds, if not thousands, were going to witness the fight. Hell, if enough people tuned into Daxen’s broadcast, maybe millions.

  It was late in the afternoon. The planet’s red giant sun was beginning to set, bathing the whole scene in crimson light. There was a faint, warm breeze. In other words, conditions were nearly perfect. Both for the fight itself, and for enhancing its drama.

  “I wish I could be the one fighting,” Jensi said ruefully. “Knowing our woman is on the line… it’s going to take everything I have to just stand by and watch!”

  “I know what you mean,” said Ellon. “I’d do anything to get her back. But I never expected to have to sit back and do nothing!”

  I sympathized with my men. Every fiber of my being was feeling the immense pressure of the moment. I was thankful to be the one fighting.

  A hatch in Doyle’s tank popped open.

  And there he was.

  He was tall… but that was about it. He looked like he had been in decent shape at one point. But time had clearly caught up to him.

  I stared at him. He tried to stare at me. But, even though he wore a vaguely smug smile on his face, he looked away.

  He wasn’t looking forward to this.

  Good.

  The bastard who had stolen our mate, who had injured her, strode to the middle of the circle. Loud murmurs accompanied him.

  It was a weird mood. The Everlasting crowd seemed split. Some of their soldiers cheered him on. Others muttered to each other, eyeing Doyle with sideways glances. Overall, though, the Everlasting crowd clearly backed their man. I was suddenly glad that a Triumphant fighter squadron was hovering right overhead.

  There was no reason to delay.

  I walked to the middle of the circle.

  Doyle met me there.

  We stood in front of each other. Face to face.

  He was the first to speak.

  “I took your woman,” he said quietly. So quietly, only I could hear him. “And I’m going to keep her. And after I beat you into medical retirement, I’m going to whore her out to my whole base. When I’m not torturing her for my own pleasure, that is.”

  “This is the end of your life,” I said back, as though I hadn’t heard him. “Do you have any idea how easy it is to kill a man with a strike to the head? If not, you’re about to find out.”

  Doyle grinned.

  “If you think you’re man enough,” he said, raising his fists in a classic fighting pose, “let's get started.”

  Chapter 44

  Rachel

  It soon became obvious why Doyle had made me put on one of his men’s uniforms. If that crowd of Everlasting soldiers saw me naked, in Doyle’s tank, they would see that I actually was his captive, instead of his protected guest.

  And displaying me to the crowd turned out to be a crucial part of The Bastard’s plan.

  The guard whose clothes I was wearing hung back, out of sight, so as not to arouse suspicion.

  The other one held me, a taser pressed firmly against the small of my back, just inside the opening through which Doyle exited the vehicle. The guard himself was peering around the door frame. Watching events unfold.

  Waiting for his signal.

  Waiting for the fight to start.

  I couldn’t see outside the tank, at first. But I could tell that the fight had started - because the guard holding me suddenly wrenched my arm, forcing me out into the middle of the tank’s door frame.

  Making sure everyone outside the tank could see me.

  For the first time, I could see the scene outside the tank.

  Doyle and Travan stood facing each other. Circling each other. Doyle had his hands up in front of him in some fighting stance. Travan was on the balls of his feet, weary but confident. He hadn’t adopted any fighting stance… but he clearly didn’t need to. Even just standing there, it was apparent that he was in perfect control of his boy, ready for anything Doyle might throw at him.

  Anything, that is, except for me.

  The guard reached under the Everlasting coat I was wearing and pinched my nipple.

  Hard.

  I couldn’t help it.

  I let out a squeal of pain.

  A squeal that Travan heard.

  Seemingly in slow motion, I saw him register the sound of my voice. Saw his head turn towards me. Saw the shock in his eyes when he saw me. Saw the anger ignite within him as he registered the sight of the Everlasting guard with his hand on my breast.

  But, in that split second, Travan had taken his eyes off of his enemy.

  In that instant, Doyle struck.

  Not quickly. Not with any visible skill. But he still managed to land a weak, glancing punch to the side of Travan’s head.

  Bringing his poison-slathered glove into direct contact with Travan’s skin.

  “No!” I screamed. “Travan, his glove-”

  But the guard wrapped his hand around my mouth, preventing me from warning Travan of the danger he was in.

  I tried to tell myself that it might still be ok. That Travan might finish off Doyle quickly enough that the poison wouldn’t take hold until after the fight was over.

  I didn’t believe myself, though. I struggled against the guard’s grip.

  But he was fucking strong.

  “Quit squirming, or you’ll get tazed!” He snarled in my ear.

  I stopped.

  My mind spun. Trying, desperately, to think of some way to help Travan.

  Travan, unaware of the poison, openly laughed at Doyle’s weak punch. Which got the crowd fired up.

  Then he moved in.

  Doyle was no pushover. He too was a professional soldier, after all. Travan unleashed a flurry of short, powerful punches, but Doyle managed to block all of them with his forearms. Even so, the blows rocked the older man back. The fifth one even put Doyle flat on his back.

  Grinning, anticipating an easy win, Travan backed off. Taunting his opponent. Waiting for him to get back on his feet.

  No!

  Finish him!

  But, I knew if I called out, I’d be rendered unconscious again. And then I wouldn’t have been of any help to anyone.

  Doyle got up. Very,
very slowly. It was obvious that he was stalling, waiting for his poison to take effect.

  Travan lept to the attack once again, positioning himself for another flurry of blows.

  Doyle lept back, out of Travan’s reach.

  For almost a minute, Travan chased Doyle around the middle of the circle, to the sound of so much cheering and taunting coming from the Everlasting crowd that I really couldn’t make any of it out.

  Then it happened.

  Travan seemed to slow a step. He shook his head, obviously trying to clear his eyes.

  Doyle, a satisfied smirk spreading across his bastard face, waited.

  I couldn’t believe what was happening.

  Not only had Doyle tricked me into delivering myself right into his hands. Not only had he lied about who had been abusing me, framing my men for injuring me when he himself had done it. But right when things had finally looked like I might get back to my men and away from Doyle, he was cheating in what should have been a fair fight! The sneaky, underhanded bastard would stoop to anything to ruin my life.

  And it was all playing out right in front of me.

  Travan rubbed at his face, a confused look overtaking him.

  Doyle stepped forward. This time his punch connected squarely with Travan’s jaw.

  Travan, a mass of muscle and finely honed fighting skills, should never have been hurt by a blow like that.

  Nevertheless, he crashed to the ground as if he’d been struck by a steel baton.

  Doyle proceeded to rain kicks down upon Travan. Sluggishly, weakly, Travan tried to defend himself. But Doyle’s heavy combat boots scored hits against his head, gut, ribs, knees.

  The crowd was growing quieter. The cheering and jeering had been replaced by sounds of confusion.

  But still Doyle continued his one-sided assault upon my man.

  My mate.

  Seeing Travan in pain tore at my gut. At my heart. At my very soul.

  I began to feel all semblance of control leaving my body.

  It could not end this way.

  It would not end this way!

  I would not become Doyle’s whore. I would not spend the rest of my days as the punching bag of a sadistic, cheating piece of shit.

  I stopped caring what happened to me.

  All I could think about was stopping Doyle.

  I leaned forward - then whipped my head back as hard as I could.

  The back of my skull connected solidly with the guard’s nose with an oh-so-satisfying crunch. Hot blood spilled out into my greasy, frizzy hair.

  I felt his hands, his taser, fall away from my body.

  I looked back at him.

  He was holding his face. Momentarily vulnerable.

  My eyes shot to the pistol at his side.

  My hand didn’t wait for my brain to think. It lurched forward, grabbing for the weapon.

  Drawing it out of the man’s holster.

  Pistol in hand, I whipped back around towards the fight.

  The crowd was nearly silent now, watching Doyle pummel an almost unconscious Travan in utter disbelief. Across the circle, Jensi was attempting to bring his assault rifle to bear, while Daxen and Ellon attempted to hold him back.

  I brought the pistol up.

  Aimed it at Doyle as best I could.

  I felt the Everlasting guard’s hand on my shoulder. Squeezing. Trying to stop me. Pulling me backward.

  I resisted. Pushed myself forwards as hard as I could. Desperate not to fall back into his grip.

  “CHEATING BASTARD!” I screamed.

  A gunshot rang out.

  Beaten, exhausted, not terribly balanced at the best of times, and fighting for my life, I pitched forward down the tank’s boarding ramp. The Everlasting guard fell on top of me.

  “Check his gloves!” I screamed. Horsley. Short of breath, thanks to the guard on top of me. We struggled against each other, him trying to get his gun back with one hand while holding his profusely bleeding nose with the other.

  “Doyle put poison on his gloves!” I screamed. “He kidnapped me! Tortured me! And now he’s cheating!”

  The guard managed to get his elbow on top of my neck. He pressed down with what felt like his full weight.

  As I struggled to breathe, I was distinctly aware of two sounds.

  The first was the crowd of Everlasting soldiers. They didn’t sound the same as before the fight started. Now, they sounded… angry. A few voices were swearing loudly, or demanding something. Or taunting someone? I couldn’t make it out exactly.

  The second sound was far more distinct.

  It was the sound of Doyle shrieking like a baby.

  “Oh… fuck,” the guard said as he pushed himself off me. I looked up at him. It was almost as though he’d forgotten about me.

  I followed his eyes with my own.

  Doyle was curled up in the dust, screaming his head off… and his hands were clutching a patch of deep crimson leaking out of his lower stomach.

  Wait. No.

  Suddenly, unable to hold it back, I burst into hysterical laughter.

  Doyle wasn’t holding his stomach.

  He was holding his crotch.

  Holy shit!

  I looked at the gun in my hand. Touched the barrel. It was still hot. I’d managed to fire the gun.

  I hadn’t even hoped to hit The Bastard.

  But he was screaming and clutching his dick.

  I’d shot him in the fucking dick!

  A few Everlasting soldiers approached the pathetic looking fighters. Travan had managed to sit up, and looked like he was going to puke. Doyle was still a gasping, shrieking, crying, blubbering, begging ball of ruined man. The puddle of blood under him was growing.

  One of the Everlasting soldiers grabbed one of Doyle’s hands. Brought it close to his face. Sniffed the glove.

  Recoiled, from whatever he smelled.

  Made a gesture over his head.

  The Everlasting crowd’s displeasure intensified by several orders of magnitude. They began booing. A few even threw rocks or small tools.

  None of which hit Travan, and more than one of which hit Doyle.

  Jensi was helping Travan out of the circle.

  The last thing I saw was Ellon and Daxen sprinting towards me.

  Then everything that had happened to me since I’d received Doyle’s messages caught up to me all at once.

  My eyes rolled back into my head.

  Chapter 45

  Rachel

  I opened my eyes slowly. Expecting it to hurt.

  It didn’t.

  For a moment, I didn’t know where I was.

  Then, with a surge of excitement, relief, and gratitude, I recognized our ship’s small living quarters!

  I was home.

  I was alone. Laying on Travan’s bunk. Once again naked.

  I felt… fresh. Like I’d recently been washed. Even my hair felt soft and clean.

  And… holy shit!

  There wasn’t a mark, stripe, bruise or any other injury anywhere on my body!

  How long had I been out for?

  I moved my arms and legs carefully.

  There was no pain whatsoever.

  In fact, I felt great.

  I sat up on the bed.

  As I did, the door to the living quarters hissed open.

  And in strode my men. All four of them, led by Travan.

  “Well look who’s up,” he said. His face was… blank.

  “About time,” said Jensi sternly. He, for one, looked pissed. Ellon and Daxen both stared at me with a curious mixture of gladness and disappointment.

  I could guess why.

  Glad as I was to see them, I hung my head.

  I just couldn’t look any of them in the eye.

  I’d disobeyed explicit orders to stay on the ship. Snuck off. Handed myself straight over to the one person none of us had wanted to see ever again.

  I didn’t know what to feel.

  Shame, at having put myself in such a stupidly av
oidable predicament.

  Relief, that I hadn’t stayed in Doyle’s clutches for long.

  Embarrassment, at having been tricked by something as simple as an altered image.

  Gratefulness… at the lengths my men, my mates, had gone to in order to get me back.

  “You realize we defied the direct orders of a Vice Admiral to rescue you,” said Travan. His voice, too, was a mixture of emotions. Mainly relief. Gladness. But, also the same disappointment I’d seen on Ellon and Daxen.

  I kept my eyes on the floor. Trying to look, and sound, as contrite as I possibly could.

  “I’m sorry. Really, really sorry.”

  A heavy hand found my chin.

  Lifted it up.

  Travan peered deep into my eyes. It felt like he was staring into my soul.

  Then he let go.

  “In the end,” he said, “since we avoided open hostilities, the Vice Admiral has chosen to simply forget the incident. In fact, unofficially, he’s pleased with how it all went down. Since Daxen broadcasted the fight, the whole galaxy saw a Triumphant soldier confronting an Everlasting villain - and winning.”

  There were a few chuckles at this.

  “Stow it,” said Travan defensively. I looked up to see the smirks directed Travan’s way. Of course. He was being teased for not winning outright. “At least,” Travan continued, “the galaxy saw Triumphant sticking to the rules and fighting fair. And they also saw how Everlasting turned on one of its own for cheating - which, I’m told, boosted their reputation as well. All in all, both sides came out of this better than we came in. Something of a minor miracle.”

  “Yeah, everybody won,” said Ellon. Wickedly.

  “Well,” said Daxen, “almost everyone.”

  More chuckles. Very satisfied chuckles.

  I couldn’t help it.

  I grinned.

  “Not a bad shot, right?” I ventured.

  “The best I’ve ever seen!” declared Daxen.

  “How’d you pull it off,” asked Jensi suspiciously, a smile tugging at even his lips.

  “Would you believe me if I told you… plain dumb luck?” I asked.

  Outright laughter.

  “Yes, I certainly would!” said Travan.

  “So what happened to him?” I asked. Almost not wanting to know.

  “His comrades were so disgusted with him over his conduct,” said Ellon, “that nobody rushed to help him after you shot him. Eventually, medics were ordered in - but I heard he bled out before they could help him.”