Laboolaron tapped his headset, “Send someone to clean up a pile of gorech...corridor eight. Make it fast!”
As they neared the entrance to the grandstands, they could hear the scuffle of many feet running down the corridor to remove the corpse.
“Wasn’t that punishment just a tad extreme?” Race nervously asked.
“No, not at all. There is no ‘learning curve’ when you are in the Emperor’s Guard. Outside the Guard, he may have been shown more…tolerance,” Laboolaron said, picking dirt from his fingernails as they walked, “The Emperor depends upon those of his warriors closest to his house to defend his life. There are no, how would you say,” Laboolaron scratched his chin, “ah! yes, Mulligans, I believe is the phrase in your language.”
“I see.”
“Just so you can fully appreciate the motivations of those in the Emperor’s Guard, each of the guards closest to the Emperor’s house.”
“Yes?”
“They know that they will all pay with their lives. Should the Emperor order it, there is not one Antarian who will hesitate to kill you, even if it meant his own death. You will not escape the games. Even if you did, any Guard that allowed your escape will face the same punishment as Jamilkon here today. Also, know that the Guard now understands your intentions and will not be taken by surprise again.”
Race and Danielle nodded in unison.
The noise of the crowd deafened them as they entered the grandstands.
“Ah!” Dumakas grinned with open arms, “Welcome to my private balcony. Please, take your seats and enjoy the games with me today.”
They found themselves standing on a carved stone outcrop that extended out over the center of the arena. From here, the Emperor could see every action from any point of view.
“This looks a little like ancient Rome or something,” Race said, placing his hands on his hips.
“It does, except the playing field is a tad different,” Danielle agreed.
“What’s with the rocks and all that water surrounding the arena?”
“Ah, the inquisitive Humans! Race, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s my name, don’t wear it out.”
“Yes, Race. You see, there are Gronjechs that occupy the area surrounding the island.”
“Gronjechs?”
“I believe they are the Antarian equivalent of an Alligator,” Malcom offered.
“I see,” Race said, bouncing off his toes to get a better view.
“There are two opponents,” Dumakas began, “each side has all the equipment and supplies to make your own weapon, including an anvil, iron mallets and a blast furnace for forging. You can make any weapon you wish with the equipment and supplies you have at your disposal. You have an hour to fashion as many weapons as you can. Once that time expires you must make your way, crossing the rocks and avoiding the Gronjechs if possible, to the center island. We call this the High Ground. Here, the one who is in possession of the island will defend it. The unfortunate opponent that arrives to the island last has the disadvantage. Both fight with only the weapons they have made. There are no rules of engagement. You may even steal any of your enemy’s weapons and use it on them. The battle continues until one of the opponents has fallen.”
Charming,” Race grimaced, “What’s with the, whad’ ya call it, a Gronjech?”
“Ah, yes. The Gronjech. You must face the Gronjechs of the waters.”
Malcom bumped Race, “They may be similar to your Alligator; only they’re over twice as large, sometimes three times the size.”
Dumakas laughed, “And they can eat you in two or three bites if you’re not careful. Do not worry too much about them, as they will fall to your weapons if you are in time.”
“Whattya mean by, if we’re in time?”
“That is, if you see them coming.”
“They’re very fast and aggressive. They are also good at hiding in ambush, Race. They are clever hunters who will anticipate your every move.”
“Oh joy! Fast, clever, man-eating, oversized, Alligators. Just swell.”
“Oh, and they live in the motes during all cycles of Serintin. They may stalk you for food, so fashion your weapons quickly,” Dumakas roared.
Race’s face turned a shade of white, “Duly noted.”
“What happens to the losers of the games?”
“The fallen players are used to feed the Gronjechs...and do not worry about killing any of them. They are prolific breeders, so we have plenty to stock the arena with.”
“I’ll be sure to add that to my notes.”
“Today, you will witness two competitive players. The current champion of the games, from Theta-Centauri...”
Malcom leaned over to Race’s ear, “...sort of an upright lizard-humanoid...”
“...and the new comers from Sigma-Draconis...”
“...you’ll be surprised that the Draconians look amazingly similar to you...”
Race turned to Malcom, “How similar?”
“Earth UFO legends refer to them as the Nordics.”
“Earth’s UFO legends? You’re telling me that they do exist?”
“Oh, yes. And they have visited your planet many times. Only a little over eighteen light years from Earth, they are the fifth closest humanoid race to you,” Malcom explained.
“The fifth?”
“Yes...do not be alarmed, Race. There are thousands of humanoid species throughout the galaxy.”
Dumakas laughed, “And we have conquered most of them by now.”
“Yes,” Malcom answered loudly, “Most. But not all, Dumakas.”
Race looked over the edge of the balcony to get a better view of the arena playing field, “So tell me, Dumakas…”
“Yes, yes, endless questions from the curious Human. This is why you are here with me for these games, to learn what this is all about...before you yourselves play.”
“Charming...and I’m sure it’s lots of fun down in that pit, but come on, really?”
“The Games? Oh yes, it is for our most important blood lust that we hold these Games.”
“Darnash told us a little bit about this blood lust, and we’ve come to understand this is a necessity, based on your special blood properties. I have to wonder, though, isn’t there a better way to satisfy your needs?”
Dumakas roared with laughter, “And why would we want to do that?”
“Because this is savagery.”
“Hah, hah, hah, hah! It is amusing that you Humans fear the arena. Other species are honored that we spared them during their planet’s conquest. They are happy to fight in the blood lust ritual.”
“I’m sure you’ve got a ton of aliens beating down your door to face off in this fight to the death.”
“There’s great sport in it, and it does satisfy our blood lust. We will not be changing the rules for just one race that opposes these games.”
“What if there were two in opposition?”
“Not likely,” Dumakas held his belly, laughing harder than he had in a long time.
“So, what are our choices again?”
“Your lives are spared to compete in the games, simple as that. Otherwise, you will be killed, and your blood will be spilled in the arena. It is doubtful that you will win the match. You are too weak, but it will be fun to watch at any rate.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence...”
Danielle stood and looked over the edge with Race, “I’ll fight down there. I’d like to think that I’m in pretty good shape.”
Race sized Danielle up and back down, “Yes, I’d say you are in fine shape, and I mean that in a good way.”
Danielle kissed Race on the cheek, “You’re so cute, Race,” then she turned to address Dumakas directly, “I’m serious. I’ll face off with the winner of this round.”
“Ah, most excellent. The weak female is showing the human male up. Most excellent!”
“Thank you,” Danielle glanced back to Race, “Again, I’ll go first...and if I win the match,
you must agree to let us go free.”
“Sure, why not! You win the match and I will let you go.”
“Really?”
“No, I’m using your ‘sarcasm’, I believe it is called. However, if you do win this match, you will have the honor to fight the Boreshog in the valley of the trenches. You win that match, and yes, I will release you.”
“The Boreshog, as in the Antarian equivalent of a Dragon, right?”
“That is correct,” Dumakas said, drool trailing from his crooked smile.
“Deal!”
“Danielle, are you insane? You can’t be serious?” Race exclaimed.
“Dead serious. Oh, sorry, bad euphemism.” Danielle brought her hand up to stifle her giggle.
“You humans do have an odd use of language, but I like it. That’s pretty funny.”
“Ha-ha, I’m hysterical over here.”
“Trust me, Race. I actually am fit. I worked out daily back on Earth. I’ve even taken a few Kensyobudo lessons, so I’m the logical candidate...that is with a little help from Malcom.”
“I didn’t know that about you, Danielle!”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Race.”
“I’m finding that out.”
Malcom pointed down inside the arena, “Look, the Draconian has finished her sword and is making her way to the island.”
The buzz from the grandstands quieted as the games began. The pale-skinned, long haired, Draconian held her sword in one hand and a crudely fashioned shield in her other. The human sized alien scanned the glistening rocks, mapping a pathway to the ladder that would take her to the island. Determination was painted on her face as she leapt from rock to rock to rock.
Three or four more leaps and she would be at the ladder, but just as she began to jump, her foot slipped. She slid down the slick rocks, one leg landing in the water.
“One must use caution when jumping rocks,” Dumakas instructed, “They can become slippery.”
“Moss?” Race asked.
“No, mostly the spilled blood and rotting remains of the past players.”
Race nearly gagged at the explanation, but had to look at what was happening.
She had scrambled a few feet up the rock when a large reptile rose from the surrounding water.
The Draconian shrieked as she scurried backward up the rock. The beast opened its large jaws, thousands of teeth flashing in the light. The Gronjech dove at the alien female. She threw her shield up just in time for the water monster to lock it in its teeth. She let the shield go and quickly got to her feet. The Gronjech’s jaws clamped down on the metal, snapping it into several pieces.
With a mighty swing of her sword, the Draconian sliced through the exposed neck, sending the Gronjech squealing back into the water. A pool of blood surfaced on the water, signaling the monster’s death. Other Gronjech’s quickly assembled at the flailing reptile, tearing it into pieces and swallowing them down leaving nothing behind.
“Excellent! Most Excellent,” Dumakas chuckled, “A worthy warrior for the games. She just might become the new champion.”
“See,” Danielle explained, “She’s using what’s called a hand and a half long sword. Its light enough to wield single handed, yet versatile enough to use both hands for greater power.”
“My, my,” Dumakas said, looking at Danielle, “I see you will make a worthy combatant for the games...yes indeed, you will.”
The Draconian made it to the ladder and began climbing it to the raised island platform when the lizard humanoid appeared above, attacking the ladder with his sword.
Two more Gronjech came out of the water and up the rocks near the bottom of the ladder.
“Uh oh,” Dumakas said, leaning forward in suspense, “It looks as if the Draconian is in trouble.”
The Draconian froze in one place on the ladder. Inches above her head, the Centaurian sawed at the ladder, keeping an eye on the two Gronjech prowling just below.
“What’s she doing?” Race asked.
The woman untied her leather waistband and held it with one hand, while holding onto the ladder and her sword with the other. There were two rocks fixed at each end of the leather lanyard. She began swinging them around her head, and released it when there was enough momentum. The line whirled up and wrapped around the Centaurian’s neck. He dropped his weapon to grab at the wet, shrinking leather tightening around his neck.
The Draconian scrambled up the ladder. Over the top she went, straight to her incapacitated opponent. Without hesitation she swung her sword around behind her, then high over her head before plunging it down through the Centaurian.
“Well done!” Dumakas snorted over the cheering crowd. “Well done indeed!”
The woman tossed her weapon to the ground after pulling it out of the Centaurian. She then kicked the body over the edge and watched it splash into the water. The Gronjech quickly converged on the body. Several each grabbed a limb, tugging it into several pieces before swallowing great chunks whole.
“Toss the rope ladder over the edge,” Dumakas ordered.
“Yes, my Lord,” Laboolaron said, sending the ladder from the balcony.
“Draconian woman! Climb to the balcony...it is time to partake of our blood lust.”
Before Dumakas could finish, the woman had already traversed and was climbing over the ledge.
Race grabbed at the woman to help her over, and the Draconian hissed at his touch, and then glared at him with intense yellow eyes. She stepped over to Dumakas and held her hand out for the Emperor. He quickly took his saber and placed it in the palm of her hand. She squeezed her hand around the blade as he drew it across her flesh, leaving a gash that pooled with blood.
Dumakas looked up into the fiery clouds above the arena “Today, our blood lust is satisfied.” Then he leaned down and slurped the pool of blood from her hand before her Nanites healed it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
________________________
The Rock
Betelgeuse Sector
________________________
“Easy!” Chief Kelly exclaimed, grabbing his armrest as Captain Hopkins piloted the support ship back to the Rock. “Easy there!”
Hopkins fought his controls in an attempt to remain on glide slope, “Don’t tell me to take it easy! It’s your thruster pack that’s failing on us!”
“Well, Captain, if you had put in your repair request that your thruster pack was acting up...”
“I filed all the necessary paperwork,” Hopkins interrupted, “It’s you’re squids that lost it.”
“Oh, I see, Captain...so it’s my flight deck crew’s fault? They say they never received your manifest.”
“I know it was filed, my co-pilot assured me...”
“Did you actually see him? Because if you didn’t see him do it, he may have forgotten!”
“My man would never forget...”
“Uh huh...that’s what they all say, Captain.”
Hopkins jerked the controls slamming the Chief against the side of the bulkhead, “OW! Hey, watch it!”
“It’s this thruster pack, Chief. Sorry, I’m having a little trouble keeping her on track.”
“Just warn me next time, will ya?”
“I’ll do my best,” Hopkins said, holding back a smirk, “Bravo One, to the Rock. I’m barely holding on to our flight path. Request emergency landing protocols; I have a malfunctioning starboard thruster, over.”
“Roger that, Bravo Leader. You have clearance to land. We’re ready for your emergency situation.”
The support ship flew erratically toward the Rock’s flight deck. The ship pitched and yawed, as Captain Hopkins wrestled with the controls, and entered the ship.
“Stand by to receive,” Hopkins repeated over his comm link. “Coming in hot...”
Hopkins lowered the landing skids, fighting the controls to hold his position above the landing deck. When he had the ship aligned the best he could, he slammed the stick down, sending the ship ha
rd onto the deck, “Mag-locks engaged...powering down engines,” he sighed with relief. “Lower us down!”
The support vessel lowered inside the maintenance deck and sealed them inside with the closing ceiling doors.
Hopkins unbuckled and went to the exit. Chief Kelly rubbed his neck as he got out from his seat, the two met at the ship’s exit.
“Next time, maybe you’ll ensure you have the repair manifests delivered!” Kelly said. The crew could hear their bantering back and forth as the ships entry door opened.
“...and I’m TELLIN’ you that I did!”
“Never happened, Captain, sorry!”
“Chief!”
“Na-na-na, I’m not hearing ya, Captain, na-na-na.”
“Chief Kelly!”
“Sorry, Sir. No repair manifest, no workie.”
Major Phillips met the two in the maintenance bay, “Chief, Captain? What seems to be the problem?”
“The Chief here is refusing to fix this jammed thruster pack!”
“Sir,” the Chief said, turning to the Captain, “I never refused!”
“What was that you said? No manifest, no workie? Sounds like a refusal to me!”
“Now you both just take it easy...”
The Chief pressed his chest into the Captain’s, “You never gave us a repair manefest!”
“Guys...”
“I told you already, my co-pilot turned it in!”
“ATTENTION!” The Major said, causing the both of them to snap into position.
“Sir...” Hopkins began.
Phillips interrupted him, “We’ll get the paperwork straightened out in due time...”
“But Major,” the Chief attempted to interject.
“The Captain has selected Captain Hopkins, and his crew, for the rescue mission. I need his ship repaired...on the double, Chief!”
“Aye, aye, Major,” Chief Kelly saluted.
“Dismissed Chief!”
“Yes, Sir, sorry for the mix up, Sir,” the Chief turned from the Major and began barking orders, “You heard the Major! Get this bird fixed...Double time it!”
The Chief’s deck crew scrambled like busy worker bees at his orders.
“That’s better,” Captain Hopkins smiled.
Warlords Saga Page 16
