When people talked about the seedy side of town and the dark, criminal underbelly of a world, they surely had the old sector in Dors in mind. It was a place that was dark, dirty, and gritty. A place where everything from death to sex – especially death and sex – was for sale. And as I walked through the doors of the Nine Stars, I realized just how sheltered my life had been.

Music from some unknown world blared and people from a thousand different planets mingled together, talking, laughing – even fighting. There were card games going on in one part of the bar, something that looked similar to billiards in another, and a series of holo-games I'd never seen before – all of them violent and bloody, of course, which was befitting of the crowd. The denizens who dwelled in the Nine Stars were most definitely rough around the edges and the atmosphere inside was saturated with the promise of violence.

It was like watching the storm clouds roll in – you knew they were going to break and unleash a violent storm at some point, it was just a matter of when.

Some eyes turned to me when I walked to the bar. Some eyed me suspiciously, others eyed me like they were sizing me up to possibly kill or mug me later – possibly both – and still others looked at me like I was a piece of meat they wanted a taste of. Which frankly, was the most disturbing group of them all.

As I leaned against the bar, the man to my right turned to me, a lascivious little smirk on his face. He looked me up and down, an appraising gleam in his eyes. I didn't know what world he came from, but he had golden skin and short cropped black hair. His eyes were green and had no whites to them at all. He had a slimy, skeevy air about him that I found entirely off-putting.

“You're new around here, huh?” he asked.

“Just passing through,” I said, my voice cold and emotionless.

He put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, the smile on his face growing creepier by the second.

“Well, I could probably make your time in town memorable,” he said.

“Get your hand off me,” I said low. “Or I'll take it off myself.”

The man chuckled, a noise that made him even creepier and more repellent than before – and that was saying something. He didn't remove his hand though.

“Got a little spirit in you,” he said. “I like that.”

I looked at his hand pointedly. “Last warning.”

He laughed again and the condescension I heard in his voice set my teeth on edge. It was like nails on a chalkboard and the tide of anger rose up within me. Being taken lightly, being underestimated because I'm a woman was one of those things that set me off. That sent me flying into a dark rage.

When he still didn't move his hand, I took hold of his wrist and spun toward him, bending it backward. The man howled in pain and the crowd around us moved back in unison, all eyes on us, eagerness in the faces of many. Some of these people were dying to see a fight, to see blood spilled.

Keeping the pressure on his wrist, I drove the man to his knees.

“Let go of me, you little bitch,” he howled. “Let me go.”

“Gladly.”

In one smooth motion, I let go of his wrist, grabbed the back of his head, and drove it into the knee I was raising. I heard the crack of bone and saw the spray of blood as the man's head rocked back. He fell flat on his back, out cold before he hit the floor. The crowd around us looked at him, then looked at me, the delight on their faces plain.

Two smaller men with pale gray skin skittered in grabbed the man's unconscious form, the crowd parting as they dragged him away. When the man was safely out of the room, the music started up again and the buzz of conversation returned to normal. A few people gave me a nod of respect and others refused to meet my eyes entirely.

It was certainly a stark difference from when I'd first walked in.

“What can I get you?”

I turned to find the bartender standing there staring at me. He looked almost exactly like the guy I'd just beaten. He was smiling though and didn't seem to hold it against me.

“Ale,” I said.

He quickly poured a mug of ale and slid it to me. “This one's on the house,” he said. “That guy was a real asshole. You did me a favor.”

“I appreciate that,” I said and raised my mug to him. “Maybe you can help me though. I'm looking for a man named Plynt.”

The bartender nodded and pointed to a door set in the back wall of the bar. “That's his office over there,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said.

He nodded and turned to see his other patrons. I weaved my way through the crowd, most of the people moving to get out of my way. I got to the door and opened it without knocking – and immediately found myself face to face with a human and two Ryvythian men who had guns out, pointed at my face. I put my hands up and tried to look as non-threatening as possible.

“I was hoping to see Plynt?” I said.

“Who's askin'?” said one of the Ryvythian men.

“Name's Kianna,” I said.

“It's okay, fellas,” came another voice

I turned to see a Ryvythian man entering through a side door I hadn't noticed before. Then, it was hard to notice much of anything with three large guns pointed at my face. The newcomer was dressed in a stylish little suit, had pale gray skin, and three eyes that sparkled blue.

“Plynt,” I said.

The man nodded at me. “At your service,” he said. “And you are?”

“Kianna Reeves,” I said. “Darqa thought that you might be able to help me.”

Plynt's face lit up and a wide smile crossed his lips. “Colonel Darqa,” he said, sounding genuinely pleased. “How is that old son of a bitch?”

I chuckled. “Still an old son of a bitch.”

“Some things never change,” he said and then turned to his bodyguards. “You guys can go. I'll be fine with Ms. Reeves.”

“Kianna,” I said.

The guards filed out, but not without giving me a few sidelong glances. Plynt settled behind his desk – a desk that looked far too large for a man of his smaller stature. I couldn't see from where I was standing, but I was sure he was sitting on some sort of a raised seat. He motioned to the chair in front of the desk.

“Please, sit,” he said.

Still holding the mug of ale, I took a seat across from him and sipped from the mug. We stared at each other for a couple of moments, sort of sizing one another up.

“So, you serve under Colonel Darqa?” I asked, just to break the ice.

He shook his head. “No, I've never been one who took orders well. Certainly, not well enough for a life in the military,” he said. “But, I do assist him in getting his hands on some difficult to get items from time to time.”

“Ahhh,” I said. “I see. And here I thought Darqa was always on the up and up.”

“Most of the time, the good Colonel is,” he said. “Truthfully, most of the items I obtained for him were for his family. A few contraband liquors and cigars now and then, but nothing really too bad.”

That sounded more like the man I knew. Plynt eyed me evenly, waiting for me to explain why I was there. I was nervous. I mean, I was dealing with an apparently prominent figure of the criminal underworld, and Darqa did make sure to tell me to not trust him too much.

But, if I was going to get what I wanted – Elix's location and a way to save him – I was going to have to trust him. At least, to a certain degree.

“Anyway,” I said. “Colonel Darqa told me that if I wanted to find somebody, you were the man to see.”

“That depends on a number of things, of course,” he said. “But, I have been known to be able to locate hard to find people.”

His voice was smooth and even elegant. He didn't have the uptight, bird-like quick Ryvythian pattern of speech I'd grown accustomed to hearing from Dryth and Qort. He sounded more like a smooth slick businessman – always calm, collected, and in control. He was very much unlike any Ryvythian I'd ever met.

I let out a long breath. “A man from my unit was sold to the Syndicate,” I said. “They wanted him for their fighting pits. I need to find out where he is and how to get him out.”

Plynt whistled low. “Wow,” he said. “That's quite the ask.”

“It's important,” I said.

He looked at me, cocking his head, his three eyes focused sharply on me. “He's important to you,” he said. “This man.”

I nodded. “Yes,” I said, opting for a little honesty. “He is. His name is Elix and he's very important to me.”

Plynt smiled wide. “He must be if you'd risk the eternal wrath of the USF by deserting,” he said.

“How did you know – ”

“I'm a very well connected man, Kianna,” he said. “There isn't much that happens that I don't know about in some capacity.”

“So, can you help me?”

He nodded and looked off for a moment. “I can probably tell you who purchased your man,” he said. “And I can probably find where he's being kept. But, that sort of information isn't cheap.”

“Whatever it takes,” I said. “Please.”

He picked up a datapad and spent the next several minutes keying in information. He put on a headset and spent several more minutes speaking with somebody in a language I couldn't identify, let alone understand. All the while, I sipped my ale and grew more impatient. I wanted answers and the waiting was killing me.

Finally, he disconnected and put his headset aside. Setting the datapad down, he looked at me, his expression grave.

“What is it?” I asked.

“About the worst-case scenario you could have imagined.”

A lead weight fell into my stomach and my heart pounded furiously. I imagined plenty of worst-case scenarios and most of them involved Elix's death.

“Is he – is he dead?” I asked.

“Actually no. Quite the contrary,” he said. “Elix was purchased by a high ranking member of the Syndicate named Dryx. And while I'd hoped he would be in one of the fighting pits on one of the outer world colonies or hidden, mobile arenas, Elix is actually being held on Muzyn – the center of the Syndicate universe.”

I shook my head. “I don't know what that means.”

“It means that you're not going to be able to save your man, Kianna,” he said. “He's being held inside an impregnable fortress. He's in the main fighting pits, not on some outpost. It's where the Syndicate has consolidated all of their strength and power. Nobody goes in or out without them knowing about it.”

“There has to be a way in,” I said.

“There's not.”

“There's always – ”

“There's really not.”

I sighed and sat back in my seat, frustrated and angry. Plynt looked at me, but it was with an expression of compassion on his face.

“I wish I could tell you something different, Kianna,” he said. “I really do.”

The knots in my stomach tightened painfully and I wanted to lash out. Wanted to punch something. Break something. I wanted to rage. But, there was nothing I could direct my rage at. Everything I wanted to hurt and destroy was far away on a world called Muzyn.

“The good news is that he's doing well,” Plynt said hopefully. “Traditionally, when a gladiator notches one hundred victories, they're granted their freedom.”

I looked at him dubiously. “And how many victories has he achieved so far?”

“Well – five.”

“Which means, even if he does somehow manage to make it to one hundred and not get himself killed,” I say, “we're still looking at a couple of years imprisonment.”

“At least,” he replied softly. “Yeah. There are a lot of matches right now, but they go in waves. After this tournament cycle, we may not see them hold more for a month or two. Gives everybody a chance to re-stock their fighters and train them.”

I sighed and scrubbed my hands over my face, feeling completely helpless. Completely impotent. And then an idea occurred to me.

“How much longer do you think this tournament cycle will go?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I'm not sure,” he replied. “A couple of weeks probably. Why?”

“Because I have an idea that will not only get you paid,” I said, “it'll get me inside that impregnable fortress.”

I laid out my idea to him and Plynt just shook his head. When I finished speaking, he looked at me, his eyes wide, an inscrutable expression on his face.

“You might be the craziest human I've ever met,” he said.

I shrugged. “It would work though, wouldn't it?”

“It – might,” he admitted. “But, it might not. It's a fifty-fifty shot.”

“It's better than no shot.”

“Is it worth getting yourself killed for?”

Elix's face floated through my mind and I was flooded with memories of him. The way his hair smelled. The feel of his fingertips upon my skin. The warmth and passion of his kiss. The way he made me laugh and never failed to engage my mind, rather than just my body. He never took me for granted and never condescended to me. In his eyes, I was his equal in every single way.

The thought of him made my heart swell and I felt the sting of tears in my eyes once more.

“Yes,” I said. “It is.”

The little Ryvythian man leaned back in his seat and considered me for a moment. But, he nodded and put on his headset once more.

“Let me make a few calls,” he said.

My stomach churned. This was reckless and it was stupid. It was something I knew Elix would scold me for. But, I couldn't picture my life without him. Didn't want to. And if I died in the attempt to get him out of there, so be it. The kind of love I shared with Elix didn't come around every day. It was a once in a lifetime thing.

And it was well worth dying for.