Despite what Tausson said, Tierney didn't accept that things were truly over between them. She knocked on his door twice every day for the next three days, but he remained stubbornly hidden and silent on the other side. In hopes of running into him again in the training room, she spent hours there every night. Only once did she see anyone there, bumping into Aspri and Hoff as they emerged from the dressing room with smiling and flushed faces. And though that solved the mystery of why Aspri had been in the training room the night he caught Tierney and Tausson, it didn't bring her any closer to saving her own relationship.

When she wasn't trying to get Tausson to talk to her, Tierney was throwing herself into her work. Nelle definitely noticed that something was wrong, but between some people calling for a new form of global government, growing incidences of theft among cart communities, and the Vice President still cozying up to the Relicans, the President had enough problems to deal with. Tierney didn't want to burden her further with romantic drama, so she made excuses for her red, puffy eyes and changed the subject.

Avoiding Rasmus turned out to be as difficult as seeing Tausson. Worried about what Tausson had said about the bronze Relican finding a way to make Tierney follow through on her fake agreement, she went to extremes to never be alone with him. She took to spending most of her time at the nutrient supply, working on her laptop and claiming that the noise helped her think. Rasmus had tried to speak to her there once, but with so many of his crew coming in and out all day, and with them still hanging on her every word and need, he could do little more than glower. He had come to her room a few times, but she kept the door locked and her finger on the communications button in case he tried to force his way in.

The day of the blood walk arrived, and everyone was noticeably tense. Having heard the Relicans talk over the past couple weeks about the pending event, Tierney knew that the crew was evenly split on who they were rooting for. Many were still devoted to Tausson and preferred his style of command to Rasmus, but just as many believed Tausson had lost his right to lead when he attacked Rasmus. Although Tierney desperately wanted to share her experience with Rasmus in the assembly, the commander could just deny everything -- he didn't even remember it, after all, so saying it hadn't happened would come only too easily. Even with her esteemed position as Asteroid Mate, she was still an alien, and if it came down to her word against his, she would certainly lose that battle.

When the chime and corresponding Relican announcement sounded, Tierney was in the nutrient supply.

"This is it," interpreted Inlan, who was sitting with her. Eyeing her untouched meal tray, he asked, "Are you sure you ate enough?"

"I'm too nervous to eat," she said, setting the cover back on. "I'm not even sure if I can watch. I might just go back to my room."

Inlan snatched up her tray and returned it to the refrigerator for her.

"I was going to do that," she called after him.

"It's my Achilles' heel," he said, but not even one of Inlan's misused human cliches could make her smile.

"I won't be able to stand with you," he said, as they went into the hall and followed the stream of people already on their way to the assembly. "I'm the only one on board who can play the nubla well enough, which is a shame."

"Nubla? Is that the instrument you were playing at Carterra's departure?"

"No, that was the maris. The nubla is usually used for ceremonies, but Commander Arrat prefers the maris and specifically asked for it, which is good, because the nubla is a pain to roll around the corridors."

"How many instruments do you play?" asked Tierney.

"The maris, nubla, and karmantui are my favorites, but I can play most of them okay. Don't tell Lutari though," he added with a grin, "she's from the Softlands and loves the zobra." He rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue. "It sounds like an ubi being eaten alive by an andat."

"That would be bad," Tierney said in amused agreement -- as if she had any idea what he was talking about. But her lightheartedness diminished the closer they came to the corridor that led to her room. The idea of seeing Tausson again made her want to go to the blood walk, but she wasn't sure she could just stand there and watch him get beaten up without being able to do anything -- even react naturally. If she acted too distraught, someone might suspect that she felt more for him than she was supposed to. But would her being there help motivate him? Or would he be distracted by her presence? What if he lost and was immediately removed from the ship? Could she really live the rest of her life knowing she passed up her last chance to see him, if even from a distance?

Inlan kept up a brisk pace, anxious to arrive before any bored onlookers could fool around with his instrument. The intersection that led to her room came up far too soon for Tierney's liking, but when she saw it, she knew she couldn't hide. Even if she just hid in the back corner, she had to go. With a churning stomach and a pounding heart, she stayed with the crowd.

"This isn't going to end well," she muttered.

"Don't worry," said Inlan. "If Tausson is defeated, you'll just be assigned another mate quickly. Your commitment to our people will never be in question."

Tierney didn't reply, uncertain she could trust Inlan enough to confide her true reason for being anxious.

The floor of the assembly was again nearly empty, with most opting for the better view of the higher vantage points. Inlan's instrument was set up near the circle. A nubla was apparently a drum about half his height, and reminded Tierney of the big drums in the back of the orchestra -- Clem would know what they were called -- except those were made out of wood, while this was made of stone. The nubla did have the same fabric membrane pulled taut across the top, but she was fairly certain the drums back on Earth hadn't used animal skin for some time, while this one still held its speckled fur everywhere but the part at the top. Inlan quickly moved to his instrument, taking the pair of curved stone mallets that were as long as his forearm from a pouch hanging from the side, and standing with arms crossed behind the drum.

Tierney stayed by the door. Hearing the battle would be bad enough -- she didn't need to see it too. But she'd forgotten about the floating screen, which suddenly flickered into existence. Four heavy strikes on the drum from Inlan, and everyone fell silent, allowing the sound of footsteps to bounce against the walls. Tierney's mind raced, questioning every decision she'd made that had led them to this moment. Was she right to interfere with the Relican way of life and show Tausson what it was to love? Should she have waited to make love with him until they could figure out a way to be together that wasn't constantly under threat? Had becoming his Asteroid Mate made things better or worse? And, of course, was finding out Rasmus's weapon worth the damage to their relationship? Would Tausson even use the information she had given him, and change weapons? Or would he cling to his honor even if it meant fighting at a disadvantage?

Chief Raleth, resplendent in his red mechasuit and matching cape, entered the circle, with Tausson and Rasmus following behind. Neither of them was carrying a weapon, and for the first time, they weren't wearing mechasuits. They each wore a copper-colored tunic and matching pants that hung loosely on their broad, thick bodies. Tierney recognized the clothes as those from the drawer in Rasmus's room, and wondered if that was what Relicans wore if they weren't in the Squad.

Even though the skin-tight uniforms plainly revealed the Relicans' impressive figures, seeing Tausson in clothes that were similar to what humans wore made her heart ache for him even more. He looked less like the intimidating former commander, and more like the man she wanted to be with, the man she loved.

"Relican Firka, yamwal an..."

The Chief's translator was off, so he must not have known she was there. Tierney knew this was being broadcast to the cart, although Nelle and several other world leaders had opposed it. The whole idea of having to literally fight for justice -- possibly to the death -- was too barbaric for this seemingly advanced culture. In the end, they'd left it up to the people, allowing it to be broadcast, but making it clear that the content would be violent. Tierney hoped most of her people would choose to avoid consuming the brutality, but she also knew better than to put too much faith in the morals of her fellow man.

Standing behind Chief Raleth, Tausson stared grimly ahead, his arms hanging at his sides. He glanced up only once, looking toward where Inlan stood. She wondered if he was searching for her, but if he was disappointed at not finding her, he didn't show it.

Where Tausson was all calm and stillness, Rasmus was a coil of barely restrained energy. Rolling his head back and forth, hopping in place, scanning the crowd with wild, bloodshot eyes, the defending commander seemed hardly able to keep himself from leaping on the Chief, let alone Tausson.

Hardly a minute after he began, the Chief stopped speaking, and walked out of the circle. Two other Relicans, both silver and unknown to Tierney, appeared, one holding a sword, and one holding the set of deadly mitten-like weapons.

Tierney felt hot tears in her eyes. That was the weapon Tausson's holographic sparring partner had used. He had guessed correctly. She needn't have bothered with the cloak and dagger seduction, because the outcome was exactly as it would have been. She'd ruined everything for nothing.

The two silver Relicans stepped away, and Rasmus, one hand now a long metal hook, and the other enveloped with inch-long spikes, moved across the circle, facing the crowd. Tausson, however, remained in the middle of the circle, staring absently at the floor. Murmurs sounded from the Irral crew, and a Relican woman nearby whispered something to another.

Tierney quietly moved over and asked, "What's the matter?"

The Relican turned on her translator and said, "He's not taking his position."

Before Tierney could ask what that meant, Tausson began to address the room. "Na akbas ta mash rayas. Na ulkab --"

"Ana!" Rasmus wailed, charging before Tausson could finish whatever statement he had planned. Inlan began a steady rhythm on the drum as Tausson whirled around and barely managed to evade Rasmus's spiked blow.

"What just happened?" Tierney asked the woman beside her. "What was Tausson saying?"

"He was attempting to reconcile -- to surrender before it began."

"So why are they fighting now?"

"As initiator, Commander Rasmus has the right to begin the blood walk."

A bronze Relican on the woman's other side spoke up, saying, "It's highly irregular to prevent a reconciliation."

"It is his right," insisted the woman, despite the bronze's disapproving tone.

A wild cry and the clang of metal on metal drew Tierney's attention back to the screen. Tausson's sword was caught in Rasmus's hook, but sliding towards the commander's chest. Rasmus leaned to the side to dodge the blow, while at the same time pushing the sword away from his body. It must have been quite a powerful shove, because Tausson, who was more muscular and taller than Rasmus, stumbled sideways, losing his balance and nearly stepping out of the circle. Rasmus let out a growl of laughter at Tausson's expression of surprise. Inlan, providing a soundtrack to the fight, maintained his marching beat, but accompanied it with a rattling of stone on stone.

"The commander's training reveals itself," the woman beside Tierney whispered smugly.

Didn't the woman see the crazed look on Rasmus's face? Or was Tierney the one seeing things?

Tausson, standing near the edge of the circle, was still, waiting for Rasmus to make his move. His eyes belied his calm demeanor, however, burning with an anger Tierney had never seen in them before.

Slowly making his way across the circle, Rasmus held his fists at the ready. Inlan's resonant, unrelenting beat only heightened the tension, and Tierney wondered why the Relicans would bother with such music when the atmosphere was already so charged. Tausson took a few steps to the side, and suddenly they both dove forward. Steel struck steel as their weapons crashed against each other, their movements too fast for Tierney to see clearly. Again Rasmus seemed to somehow gain the upper hand, landing a kick to Tausson's side. Everyone gasped as Tausson once more struggled for balance, almost crossing the boundary line. The steady pace of the drumming never faltered.

Laughing, Rasmus stepped back, letting Tausson regain his footing. With a grim appraisal of his opponent, Tausson held his sword at the ready and they began circling one another.

Tierney remembered what Tausson had said about how he'd beaten Rasmus in sparring matches before. Tausson had been preparing almost non-stop for the past two weeks, while Rasmus hadn't done much more than his normal morning and afternoon routines. How was he getting the better of Tausson?

The commander advanced first this time, and Tausson met the spiked fist with his sword. But this time he was too slow to avoid the other hand, and he cried out as the hook sliced him across the stomach. Leaping back, he kept his sword aloft, despite the growing stain on his torn shirt.

Tierney couldn't stifle her own outcry, but luckily she wasn't the only one. The room had erupted in gasps and sounds of protest, but now that they had subsided, the drum seemed even louder than before.

Rasmus, clearly elated at having been the first to draw blood, let out a triumphant bellow and raised his fists in victory. Tausson took advantage of the commander's dropped guard and dove forward, jabbing with his sword and catching Rasmus in the side. It was a quick, small wound -- Tausson didn't appear so enamored with drawing blood -- but Rasmus howled in fury and came flying at Tausson, his fists jabbing and swinging at lightning speed.

The rhythm of the fight -- lunge, strike, retreat -- that had previously been favored was now abandoned. The two combatants wailed against each other, weapons clashing and fists flailing. If either tried to draw back, the other would advance, leaving no moment to catch their breath. The rhythms of the drum became more complex also, mirroring the change, and heightening the tension. Blow after blow landed, and soon the outfits of both Rasmus and Tausson were spotted with brown blood. And even though Tierney didn't want to admit it, even she could see that Tausson was the weaker of the two fighters.

Tierney couldn't believe this was happening. Even though the fight didn't have to be fatal, it certainly felt like death was where this was heading. If Tausson was originally going to surrender, why didn't he just leave the circle? It could all be over if he just stepped over that stupid white line. But Tierney knew he was too stubborn for that. He was in too deep now. He'd committed to seeing it through, and he wouldn't give in unless he had to. His honor and pride were part of what she loved about him, but now she feared they would kill him.

The entire assembly gasped as Tausson fell, knocked on the ground by a spiked blow to the shoulder. But as he deftly rolled and hopped back to his feet before crossing the boundary, Tierney couldn't help but smile.

At least I helped a little, if only indirectly, she thought, remembering Tausson's admiration for her falling roll move.

Rasmus was on him instantly, but Tausson forced him back, meeting both fists with his sword and knocking his own bare fist against the commander's already bleeding cheek. The glee that Rasmus had enjoyed earlier in the fight was gone, replaced by a blind rage. He hardly seemed to feel the blows that Tausson struck, not even flinching at a stab in the thigh. His arms were a blur, and Tierney wondered how Tausson could even see them, let alone block them so often.

Then Tausson's sword was trapped in Rasmus's hook. Tausson forced it upwards and gripped both of the commander's wrists. They stood, locked in that position, with their arms outstretched and the sword held above, for what seemed like forever. The veins in their necks and arms -- which were plainly visible now that their clothes were in tatters -- bulged with the strain of trying to shove each other off balance while maintaining their own.

Rasmus broke the hold first, twisting his body and shoulder-checking Tausson in the chest. Tausson lost his grip and fell backwards, his sword landing by Rasmus's feet with a clatter on the iron ground. Rasmus quickly kicked it out of the circle, and a collective gasp filled the room. Still the drum pounded on.

The bronze on the other side of the Relican woman anticipated Tierney's question. "He can't use his weapon anymore," he said, his eyes clouded with fear.

"He'll step out now, for sure," said the woman, and Tierney resented the satisfaction in her tone.

The commander appeared to believe the same, and quickly moved beside Tausson, kicking him in the stomach and taunting him to leave the circle. Tierney couldn't help but hope that Tausson would give in and escape Rasmus's abuse. There was no way he could fight those metal fists with flesh and blood -- even if that flesh was partly metal.

But Tausson apparently did not agree. Grabbing Rasmus's incoming foot, he shoved it upwards and knocked the commander onto his back. Rasmus roared as he fell, but Tausson held fast to his foot, and heaved the bronze Relican towards the edge of the circle. Slamming his hands down, Rasmus locked his hook into the grate floor to keep from being pulled farther. Tausson then grabbed Rasmus's other leg and pulled with all his weight.

Tierney didn't understand why he was bothering until Rasmus's arm slid out of the hooked mitt. The commander howled in anger as Tausson leapt over his flailing body and deftly grabbed the weapon from the floor.

Until that moment, the crowd had dutifully maintained a rapt silence, with only occasional gasps and brief outbursts. Now, as Tausson placed the hooked weapon on his own hand, scattered shouts of encouragement came from all levels in the massive room, echoing on the metal walls. Although Tierney couldn't understand the words, she heard Tausson's name, and her heart swelled with pride for the man whom she -- and so many others -- loved. Even Inlan seemed to voice his support, momentarily ceasing the underlying beat and using both mallets to rattle the sides of the stone drum like a drumroll.

Not to be outdone, Rasmus's supporters countered with their own cries, until the two sides filled the assembly with a deafening roar. Both Tausson and Rasmus seemed energized from the support, and lunged at each other with renewed vigor.

Keeping silent, Tierney gripped the door handle and prayed for this to be over. Though the two fighters were now evenly matched as far as weapons were concerned, Rasmus still seemed to overpower Tausson more often than not. Tausson was starting to move more slowly, and seemed to be having trouble with his left leg, wincing every time he put weight on it.

Tierney wasn't the only one who noticed the weakness. After a failed kick, Rasmus swung low and punched Tausson's left thigh. He cried out in pain and collapsed to the floor. Rasmus fell after him, hammering his spiked fist straight into Tausson's heart.