Won't Back Down: Won't Back Down

by Unknown

  Only the Simola knew which Simola fighters were entered into the tournament, and the same was true for Yimina, so the unaffiliated crowd had no idea that the two fighters that had dominated the tournament for almost two decades hadn't entered at all.

  Keel went to bed early that night, looking forward to seeing Saar in the morning while still dreading the outcome of the big reveal.

  *~*~*

  The morning of the Seventh Day belonged to the alternate fights with the final occurring just before midday. Keel had a private locker room where he spent the morning pacing as worry began to creep up. He could handle being thrown out of Simola, even if it was his home, because he would have Saar with him, but what if they permanently separated him and Saar because of their deception? He couldn't live without Saar by his side.

  "Calm down," Sariel insisted when Keel dithered over his mostly uneaten lunch. "You just focus on fighting. Linalee and I will handle the rest."

  Keel warmed up and stretched. When it was time, he and Sariel walked out of the locker room and into the arena. Keel was almost bowled over by the sheer amount of noise as the stands erupted in cheers as he and Saar walked to the lone platform in the center of the stadium.

  "Let us welcome our fighters!" the announcer yelled. "Fighter 285 and fighter 258, who both have undefeated records in this year's tournament! Let's welcome them into the ring!"

  Keel waited, Saar also waiting on the other side of the platform. Two orange, furry streaks bounded across the arena at top speed. Lightning and Thunder gathered themselves into a high leap. They landed on the platform simultaneously and roared, to the utter delight of the audience. Introductions complete, Keel and Saar ascended the stairs with Sariel and Linalee following.

  The announcer had been warned that the cats were going to make an appearance, but they were still frightening. He glanced back and forth between the still rumbling battle cats before wiping his brow and doggedly continuing. "And now, our two respected trainers will remove their masks!"

  Sariel and Linalee both reached up at the same time and with decisive yanks, the gray cloth came free. An audible gasp rang through the arena as it was revealed that neither Sariel nor Linalee had fought at all.

  "What a surprise!" the announcer yelled, clearly taking it in stride. "The two fighters we expected to see battling in the ring this year have instead taken on pupils! The fight will continue via their excellent students!"

  Keel could practically feel the shock of utter surprise radiating out from the audience. Clearly no one had expected the outcome they were seeing, even the Simola and Yimina guild members who knew which of their own fighters was in the final were expressing surprise. They had no idea what was coming next.

  "And now, may I present His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Auberdine Sandaliana Lev to present the pins!"

  Everyone on the platform immediately bowed low, something Keel had practiced a number of times in recent weeks. The audience also rose to their feet and bowed.

  "You have fought well to reach this lofty stage," Prince Auberdine said loudly so the crowd could hear. "Rise and accept your pins." The audience rustled noisily as they took their seats again and Keel and Saar stepped forward. The prince held up a velvet covered box and with as much fanfare as possible he popped open the lid.

  Keel looked at the two pins nestled inside the velvet lining in surprise, even as members of the crowd with better eyesight began to gasp and mumble. Instead of the half-filled pin that belonged to either Simola or Yimina, or even an empty circle pin that belonged to an unaffiliated fighter, the two copper pins inside were totally filled in.

  "To the two fighters belonging to the B'emsaa Guild, I present your pins. Wear them well," Prince Auberdine said firmly. He carefully reached out to affix the pin to Keel and Saar's shirts. The winner of the final battle would get the same pin in silver. They both bowed to the Prince and Keel returned to Sariel's side as Prince Auberdine began making a speech about the great battles of the tournament and the bright future of Lev.

  "B'emsaa?" Keel hissed, trying to make it look like he were still paying attention to the prince even though his curiosity was getting the better of him.

  "Linalee and I are going to bond," Sariel hissed back, barely moving his lips. "We realized we couldn't live in our separate guilds after we were married, so we started looking for a house to buy. With all our winnings from the tournaments, we could afford a very large one. Which is when we realized that you and Saar would also need a place to live if you wanted to stay together after the hullaballoo dies down. But four fighters living under the same roof seemed a little too aggressive, even if we would continue training. I can still get all the Masters levels from Simola even if I've left the guild, as can Linalee from Yimina, plus you two have plenty of tournament battles left to fight." Neither of the guilds would be particularly happy about any of their fighters leaving, particularly some of their best—truthfully, they would probably be infuriated by it—but law and tradition would eventually force them to behave.

  Sariel paused as Prince Auberdine made a grand announcement that required them to applaud, but he quickly returned to his story. Keel got the feeling that Sariel had wanted to tell Keel everything for a while and was pleased to get it off his chest. Keel didn't know why he hadn't been told much earlier. Sariel could have saved him from a heck of a lot of worry.

  "But we wouldn't be happy just living in isolation, which is when Linalee said that if we're going to be training anyway, why not start a school. So we asked for an audience with Prince Auberdine, who loved the idea of an unaffiliated guild. We can take in disadvantaged youth who show fighting promise, like you and Saar, and teach them life skills. Not just fighting, but reading too. A new level of educated people to join the workforce, the army, or any sort of position throughout Lev. Prince Auberdine offered to help fund it. And you and Saar are our first official students regardless of how much Simola and Yimina will try to insist otherwise."

  Keel didn't know what to say in response, but he didn't have to come up with anything because he was bowing again as the prince walked off the platform to return to his spot in the stands.

  Linalee had clearly been explaining things to Saar because as the announcer stepped back into center stage Keel caught Saar's look of incredulity. But Keel knew what B'emsaa really meant. It didn't matter how angry people were about their deception because they had a new home waiting for them.

  "Thank you," Keel whispered to Sariel as he stepped forward next to the announcer.

  "And now, prepare yourselves for the big reveal! Which two fighters have fought their way into the final battle?" the announcer asked. "Let's find out. Remove your masks!"

  The gasp of surprise from the spectators was even louder. Even the announcer was staring, openmouthed, at Keel and Saar. Their black masks had come off smoothly, revealing their identical faces.

  The announcer shook himself as the audience continued to exclaim and a couple of Simola and Yimina fighters in the stands started to yell.

  "Your names?" the announcer asked.

  "Keel," Keel replied.

  "Saar," Saar replied.

  "We have fighter Keel and fighter Saar, both from the B'emsaa Guild," the announcer yelled over the varied reactions still stemming loudly from the spectators. "This is clearly going to be the most unique fight Lev has ever seen! Let's begin!"

  Despite the crowd's mixed reactions of shock, anger, and excitement, the announcer stepped down from the platform. Sariel, Linalee, and the cats followed while the judge stepped upwards.

  "Let's have a clean fight," the judge said, focusing strictly on his job. His hand flew up into the air and then descended sharply to start the fight.

  Keel looked over at Saar, seeing a beloved pair of bright green eyes looking back at him. It didn't matter who won the fight. It didn't matter what the aftermath would be. They would be together and that was all that mattered.

  The real battle was over and Keel couldn't stop a smile as that realiza
tion hit and he lunged forward to begin a fight that would end in happiness.

  ROUND TWO

  CHAMPIONS

  ANDREA SPEED

  Kell heard the cheers from his locker room and knew the latest warrior had just been killed.

  It wasn't just the crowd cheering; it was the pitch of the cheer, a full-throated roar followed closely by the thrum of stamping feet that made the floor shake like the earth was on the verge of opening up and swallowing them all whole. There had been times he'd wanted that, when he'd wanted the planet itself to open wide and devour him, but that was all before he met Layne.

  Speaking of which, Layne came in then, looking pale and drawn. It must have been gruesome because Layne had a pretty strong constitution. "Who won?" Kell wondered, taping up his right ankle. The nano-fiber tape was the only kind of "tech" allowed in the ring, and that was simply so humans had a fighting chance against bigger, stronger alien species. Otherwise, they might tear vital muscles on their first hits, especially if the gravity was above average. Here, the difference was negligible, but when Kell got tired or took an especially hard punch, he would swear he could feel the exertion of the gravity pulling him down.

  "The Aldanian," he said, collapsing in a chair. "He just tore the Moltrias apart like he was made of bread."

  Kell nodded, winding the blue tape around his left wrist. The Aldanian was an ugly piece of work, a nearly seven foot tall reptilian who had a short, thick neck and an elongated torso that Kell thought was a bit of a trap. One would think it would be his weak point, but as soon as someone moved in, he'd get them with one of his very long arms. Kell knew he'd have to study the Aldanian to figure out what his actual weakness was, but in lieu of that, he figured the old standby would work. And that was knocking him onto his back. It was a vulnerable position for just about every species. You get 'em down, you keep 'em down. "Figured he would. They usually bring the big ones in for the wow factor."

  Layne sat forward, eyeing him nervously. "Doesn't that bother you? You may have to fight him soon."

  Kell shrugged, setting the tape aside. "If I do, I do. That's the game." He stood up from the bench and looked at himself in the full-length mirror to make sure the tape was properly wrapped. Some of the monitor refs could get picky about how the tape was layered.

  Layne came up behind him and snaked his arms around Kell's broad torso, resting his chin on his shoulder. Kell could see him in the mirror, his ink-black eyes studying Kell with something like melancholy, his black hair falling softly over his smooth forehead. His skin was the color of almonds, and it was a pleasant contrast to Kell's slightly darker skin tone. All Kell could see was his face, as Layne was a featherweight, lighter and leaner in his build than Kell, but deceptively powerful. He had a superb uppercut.

  "Well, it bothers me," Layne said, giving him an annoyed look. "If I lost you, I'd just die."

  "No," Kell said, and he turned to face him. Layne was dressed in lightweight gym sweats, black on the bottom and blue on top. Kell always imagined that color scheme was someone's idea of a joke. "If I die, you go on, 'cause humanity needs a champion." Layne frowned, so Kell kissed him on the forehead. "But don't be in a hurry 'cause I ain't goin' anywhere any time soon."

  Layne grimaced at him, not wanting to accept it. Kell knew his normally taciturn nature drove Layne crazy, but Layne had the benefit of having been raised by humans. He was raised by his adoptive Moltrias parents, who, while kind, weren't known for their effusiveness.

  But he longed for emotional connection, even if he wasn't sure how to make one. When they had first met, Layne seemed like an alien from a brighter, louder galaxy, and he wasn't sure how to take that at first. It wasn't that Kell hadn't met fellow humans before; it was just that he hadn't yet met any humans who wanted to follow in his footsteps and become a UFL fighter. He tried to talk Layne out of it, but that was when he first learned that Layne was a stubborn asshole who couldn't be talked out of anything. And while frustrating, it was also strangely endearing. It was one of the first things he found attractive about Layne … well, that and the fact that he was smoking hot. That was pretty hard to ignore.

  There was an electronic chirrup at the door, a one-minute warning, and the two of them separated and went to different areas, Layne going to his locker to get ready while Kell took off his shirt and stepped away from the mirror. He knew the show's creators hated to see cameras in any reflective surface, although Kell wasn't sure why. The door slid open, and the camera zoomed in, a tennis ball-sized orb with a small blinking green light to let people know they were taping. Its lens, no bigger than a thumbnail, caught things in such magnificent detail that people could see chips in the paint they might never have noticed even when in the room.

  The voice of the director emanated from the orb. "Tonight's your fiftieth fight, Kell. How do you feel about going up against former champion Yosi Xatalb?"

  He looked at the orb but not directly at the lens, as difficult as that was. The director said that whenever fighters looked directly at it, it made them look like dead-eyed lunatics. "I feel good. Yosi was a great champion, and I'm glad he returned to the competition."

  After a moment, there was a blip, and the green light switched to red. The director then said, "Why do you have to be so respectful? You know the viewers love a good trash talking."

  Kell shrugged. "Yosi was good. I used to watch his fights when I was coming up the ranks. He was one of the few who didn't surreptitiously cheat." While cheating was officially discouraged and punished, they'd look the other way if someone were slick about it. It seemed cheap, but that, as the old saying went, was show business.

  The director snorted in the way of most Laviian, which meant it was a short, sharp sound like a truncated bark. "I don't get how a squeaky clean muugari like you can be so popular. I mean, no offense, but I've encountered newborn Moltrias with more forceful personalities." The orb spun and zipped off towards the door, which opened before it could smack into the dull metal finish. The doors had proximity detectors, so a camera never crashed into one. The orbs seemed so basic, mostly just a camera and a microphone, and yet apparently they were expensive enough that the show hated having to replace them for any reason.

  The executive producer's voice came over the comm. "Fighters to marks in thirty seconds."

  Layne came over and hugged him before giving him a big, passionate kiss. "Go kick his ass," he said, and it sounded like an order. In its way, it was.

  Kell embraced him and let it linger for as long as he dared, enjoying the feel and the scent of his man. "I'll do it for you," he said, giving him a quick kiss and slipping from his arms. He headed out into the corridor then, where a small swarm of cameras waited for him, hovering like a cloud of brindle flies. He was quickly and unobtrusively scanned by the monitor ref, who gave him the nod and let him proceed.

  Kell let the hum of the camera motors fade into the background as he walked down the narrow hallway to the set of automatic doors, hearing the announcers give their usual pre-fight spiel. In his mind, he was finding the spot where he usually went to before matches, a place that was safe and quiet and slightly removed from all the violence and the pain. He could inflict it, could get it inflicted upon him, but it would never really affect him.

  The doors opened, and the roar of the crowd came from the shadows surrounding the brightly lit ring, the opalescent glimmer of a force field occasionally visible out of the corner of his eye. "Now entering the ring, the human Heavyweight Champion, Kell McHale!" There was a mix of cheers and boos, which was common, but once inside the slightly elevated ring, he only raised a hand in acknowledgement. The fact that he actually had fans was one of the only reasons he was still on the show. Well, that and the fact that, so far, the producers hadn't thrown a fighter at him that he couldn't take.

  "And his opponent tonight, the former champion, Yosi Xatalb!" Another mix of cheers and boos as Yosi started down the aisle, followed by his own tiny swarm of cameras. He was an ideal example of the Soarai
form, a six-foot-five, two hundred pound slab of muscle, covered with plate-like gray scales about the size of Kell's palm. The Soarai species looked reptilian, but they were actually closer to mammals, as they were warm-blooded and had the same basic nervous system. The scales made them look more impervious than they really were, and their large eyes, about the size of a toddler's fist, made them especially vulnerable to face shots.

  Kell had it down to a science now. He could look at an opponent and appraise their weaknesses on sight. He'd absorb their stance, their glare, the way they balanced their weight on their feet, and get an instant idea of what he was in for. Yes, he viewed the vids of previous matches, got an idea of their styles and favorite moves, but he'd learned a while ago that his instinct was the most valuable tool in the ring. He was trying to teach Layne that, although Layne had a tendency to second-guess himself. He had to get over that if he wanted to get on top and stay there. There was no room for doubt amongst champions.

  As soon as Yosi and all the action cameras were inside the ring, the force field snapped into place around them with a barely audible thrum. It kept them from falling out of the ring, and if a fighter was against it for more than five seconds, the field would shove them back towards the center. What old Earth boxers used to call "rope-a-dopes" were not possible anymore. It was kind of a shame because Kell always thought he'd be really good at those.

  Visually he and Yosi sized each other up with cool, clinical detachment. Then the bell sounded, and the crowd roared with excitement. Yosi was an aggressive fighter; he liked to overwhelm his opponents with a sudden, full-body physical assault, so Kell wasn't surprised when he lunged at him, his right arm pulled back. Kell sidestepped him, coming up under his arm, and gave him a sharp elbow to the back that sent him stumbling into the force field.