Chapter One – Gylden
The artificial sun of the arena beat down on Gylden, making sweat drip down his shorn head. The wound on his arm, hastily bandaged with a slap of fleshseal, ached with every move he made, but that was his own fault for being so sloppy. He shouldn't have underestimated his opponent. The T'shav's devil-red body gleamed in the bright light, the pinkish hue of his traluthian steel broadsword muted with the sand clinging to the blood he had already spilled that day.
His opponent, a hulking, hairy Ernesian, was clearly not doing too well with the heat. If he couldn't make it through a day of training, he wasn't going to survive during a battle day. Not that Gylden cared –in his opinion, they ought to be allowed to kill weaker opponents during training. It was less cruel that way. It would also save the Rayne Five Network some money for feeding and patching up the cannon fodder before they were sent into the arena to die.
But then again, the network's viewers liked to see these underdogs die or be given cheats to help them survive in the arena. Just last week, another T'shav had faced off against a toady Rlabek. The Rlabek was given a blaster and sword. The T'shav was given nothing. It was all because the public loved the Rlabek and hated the T'shav. So, of course the network skewed it in the toad's favor.
Gylden feinted to the left, his opponent clumsily following. The T'shav shook his head. This one wouldn't last more than five minutes in the arena. Unless, of course, he made himself a viewer favorite. But Ernesians were hairy, ugly things with far too much muscle to be attractive. No, this one didn't have a chance. It was almost a pity.
A long, loud whistle blew. Gylden glanced at the screens that surrounded the arena and saw that they were calling for the gladiators to stand at attention. He quickly took his place and strapped his sword to its place on his back. His heart hammered.
Today was the day when the orders for the next few arena battles would be proclaimed. With any luck, he'd sit out and have a little while free from being forced to kill others – although it was doubtful. His youthful appearance and lean figure, in comparison to the T'shav's usual bulk, made him a favorite fighter. Not in the way that gave him extra privileges in the arena itself, but the public enjoyed watching him fight.
The small camera drones that constantly followed all of them buzzed around the gladiators as they lined up, waiting for the purple-skinned Suesue, Taskus Draw, who hosted the Rayne Five Network arenas, to descend in his usual flare. As Gylden stood at attention, a few of the drones left the lesser-known gladiators to focus on him. He tried to ignore them, but as the elevator slowly sank in from the sky, his own heart skipped a beat. He had lost track of time with the day-in and day-out fighting and training, but it was that time of year – these were going to be the Freedom Games.
Once every standard year, various corporations put on their expos, unveiling new technology and the like. The expos always drew in thousands of millions of viewers. And if any of those corporations had human-based experiments, there were sure to be protests – perhaps even an incursion from the infamous Zon Sanctuary to stop them and steal the humans.
Taskus Draw had implemented the freedom games to counteract these distractions a decade ago. During this time, the gladiators were faced with certain tasks. If they survived, then they were granted their freedom from the games and were hired as trainers instead of gladiators.
But what would his task be this year?
Doesn't matter. I will kill whoever I need to kill.
Although most of the gladiators at the arena were condemned prisoners who chose this as their method of execution, there were others, like him, who had been raised there. Slaves trained to fight and kill since they were first brought in. Only the slaves were allowed to participate in the Freedom Games. If he was right, he would be able to leave the arena battlefields for good.
When the elevator lowered to the gladiators’ eye level, Gylden frowned. Taskus Draw stood at the forefront, wearing his expected glittering skin-tight catsuit that left nothing to the imagination, his three horns strung with garlands. But there were also dozens of women on the elevator platform behind him – a mix of species. They all wore clothing from their native worlds. Some had slave brandings on parts of their bodies while the others had clear skin. Drones buzzed around them.
The gladiators rarely saw women in their ranks. Was this Taskus Draw's plan, to have women slaughtered in the arena? Gylden couldn’t believe that would improve ratings. Certainly not when they all looked as terrified as these women did.
The drones turned from emitting a pale blue light to dark red, indicating that they were broadcasting directly to the network instead of the side streaming broadcasts. Gylden attempted to wipe all emotion from his face.
"Gladiators," Taskus Draw boomed in the deep, melodious voice that had won him no less than five awards that year, "you have fought long and hard to be the best you are, and for that, we have brought you rewards."
Some of the women started to cry.
"You each have the chance to choose one of these women as your mates for the next week's Freedom Games. She will be a slave to your every want, but she will also come into the arena with you. You will have to defend her with your lives… But if you both survive by the end of the week, then you will both be given your freedom, and you will be made a trainer rather than a fighter. You will be provided for – for the rest of your lives."
Gylden's heart leaped. He tried to swallow down his hope. Who knew what sort of dangers they'd face? Besides that, all of these women looked useless. How was he meant to keep his alive?
"Come choose your mate now," Taskus Draw said. "But be warned: if two gladiators choose the same woman, they must fight to the death for her!"
Gylden cast another glance over the women. His eyes passed over all of them until Taskus Draw stepped to one side. The woman standing behind him looked as frightened as the rest of them, but her hands clenched and she cast a challenging glare at the gladiators. She was all curves from head to toe, breasts so full he would have trouble containing them in his hands, hips wide and lush, legs shapely and straight.
But that wasn't all. Her skin was a peculiar shade similar to the sand beneath his feet, her hair thick about her shoulders. He'd only seen a species that looked like that on the network broadcasts he was permitted to watch when recovering from a bad injury.
Human. She was human.
He started forward, intent on claiming her as his at once, but the Ernesian he had been fighting earlier was quicker. The hairy ape bounded forward and grabbed the woman, flinging her over his shoulder. She screamed, flailing about.
An irrational surge of anger flared in Gylden. The T'shav drew his weapon, narrowing his black eyes.
"The woman is mine, Ernesian," he said. "If you value your life, you will choose another."
The other gladiators formed a circle around the two, and the drones buzzed overhead. Some focused in on Gylden's face, others on the Ernesian, and even others on the woman. Taskus Draw rubbed his hands, a gleeful look in his eye.
"Let me go," the woman shouted, squirming against the Ernesian. She beat on his back with her fists. "Let me go!"
The Ernesian spat and dropped her to the ground. He charged Gylden. The T'shav merely waited for the ape to get too close to change direction before putting his sword between them. The Ernesian impaled himself on the blade. He didn't seem to notice, hands reaching out to grasp at Gylden. The T'shav sidestepped the creature and withdrew his sword. With an easy stroke, he separated the Ernesian's head from its shoulders.
The women screamed. Taskus Draw clapped his hands. The other gladiators broke their circle and went to claim their own mates. They were smart enough not to fight him over this one. Gylden wiped his sword off on the Ernesian's body and marched to the human, who lay on the ground with a horrified expression.
She didn't fight against him when he grabbed her wrist and dragged her towards the barracks. Her eyes were wide and fearful. A few of the drones followed him, but the rest stayed behind, split evenly among the rest of the gladiators. Another fight had broken out, but Gylden ignored it.
There had been a time when all the gladiators were kept in the same open barracks, but after a surge of gladiators sneaking about at night, cutting the throats of their competitors, the network had spent the money to give them each their own, private rooms.
Gylden's was full of the luxuries he had been afforded for winning many of his past tournaments. He had an Air Cushion mattress, which adjusted itself to always support him perfectly as he slept, his own medicinal cabinet, a carpet, and an old holoscreen tuned into the Rayne Five Network so he would never be bored. All in all, a comfortable room.
The T'shav turned to his new human mate, eyeing her again. She backed away from him, her pulse beating in her throat. When his eyes met hers, the pupils seemed to expand, but Gylden wasn't about to mistake it for desire. She was terrified of him, as she should be. One did not survive as long as he had in the arenas without gaining a reputation.
But if they were going to be mates, he didn't want her to fear him so much. He cleared his throat. "What's your name?"