Saturday, June 5, 2021

Arena of the Blood Moon Part Three

 

ARENA OF THE BLOOD MOON


First published online in Abandoned Towers Ezine October 9-September 14, 2009

Part Three

“It’s really no use, you know, my boy,” the shrill voice said to him.  Brackett looked up at the defeated expression on Professor Tholgrum’s long face.  “There is only one way out of this terrible place.”

Slowly, Brackett took his hands off of the wall.  “Yes,” he said slowly,” It does appear that way.  But if that’s the only way, then it’s the one we’ll have to use to make our escape.”

The Professor chuckled, letting loose a sound not unlike the sparkling Drassis birds on Glowasoo.  “Ah, to be young and have hope!” he marveled.  Then, he sighed heavily.  “You are a new one, not one of the officers meant to deliver me.”

“No sir, I’m Captain Brackett.  My partner and I were sent to find you and your escort, and deliver you to the space station.” Brackett declared with determination.  “And that’s just what I mean to do.”

“Impossible!” the Professor declared.  “The only way out of this cell is into that arena.  If you can get past whatever opponents or animals they throw at you, you would still have to get past a small army of well-armed Nilboggi!”

Brackett fixed the Professor with a steady gaze.  “Yes sir, and I will fight each and every one of them if I have to, in the course of my duty.  Even their leader…”  With a pause, he frowned down at the floor.  “…whatever his name was.”

“You mean Gom’jol?” the Professor asked.  “He must be a great warrior.  Nilbogs will only follow warriors who pose a formidable threat to their enemies.”

Brackett considered this with no small concern.  “Well…” he said at last, “The ideal thing would be to find a way out through the arena, preferably with minimal combat involved.  But I’ll have to have a look over the place before I can plan anything.”

It was a long wait, and the mounting suspense made him anxious.  Twelve hours later, the doors finally opened to reveal the arena and Brackett did not like what he saw…

The doors slid open to reveal a great, round, chamber cluttered with free-standing wall partitions of metal plates or steelglass.  The perimeter wall featured several pairs of doors, doubtlessly leading to other holding cells and high above it all were tiers of stadium seating, filled nearly to capacity with jeering Nilbog spectators, interrupted at one point by a separated platform for those of high rank.  On this platform, Brackett quickly spied Jol’bur seated to the right of a Nilbog clad from head to toe in an armored suit.  They were surrounded by guards and other Nilboggi.

The other prisoners in the cell reluctantly found their way towards the arena.  Professor Tholgrum sighed.  “Time again.”

“Why don’t we just stay in here?  If we refuse to fight…” Brackett started.  As if in answer to his question, a steady hissing sound began above him.  He looked up and saw several nozzles sticking out of the walls near the ceiling, each one spitting out thick green gas.  With an incredulous frown, he followed the other prisoners into the arena and the doors closed behind them. 

***

Brackett glanced around at the arena. “We’ve got to protect the Professor, and find a way out of here!”  He scanned the arena and swore when he realized that the air vents were twenty feet high on the steep perimeter wall, an impossible climb for any mere human.  “Well that won’t work!”

Jol’bur stood and addressed the prisoners, his voice booming from speakers scattered throughout the arena.  “Those of you who survive this challenge will be one step closer to your freedom!”   He made a grandiose gesture towards the seated figure in the armor.  “You have the word of my P’Trohg, the Wor-osh of Oublaat, that those who conquer their rivals will be rewarded!  But only the strong shall survive, and you must first prove your strength!  This battle shall continue until six of you have fallen.  Commence!”

A throaty roar erupted on the far side of the arena from somewhere behind the free-standing barriers. It was immediately followed with a scream of pain, and a chorus of other screams ranging from battle-cry to fear.

Brackett took off towards the sounds of the fight.  He rounded the partitions and found a group of insectoids being attacked by a humanoid creature that stood seven feet tall with elongated facial features, thick fangs that protruded from his lower jaw, and a single squat horn that sprouted from the top of his head.  In its hand, it grasped a length of pipe, an insectoid cowering on the floor below it, one leg sporting an extra, unnatural joint where the exoskeleton had shattered.

“Galactic Patrol!” Brackett barked out of habit, “Stop this, now!”

The brawny humanoid growled at Brackett as he raised his bludgeon high. “Quiet down, runt!  I’m gettin’ off this moon alive!”

The alien brute towered over Brackett, his length of pipe pulled back.  A blue-and-white blur came out of nowhere and latched on to the arm with the weapon. 

For a fraction of a moment, Brackett gaped, then, as the event registered in his mind, he sprang into action.  He launched himself at the alien, tackling its legs, and dumping all three of them to the floor.  They writhed and wrestled until Brackett managed to seize the length of pipe, wrenching it away, but he had no time to celebrate the achievement before a meaty fist struck him with enough force to send him sliding across the floor.

Brackett scrambled to his feet and charged. 

With a savage thrust of the brute’s boot, the other Patrol officer was knocked away and without missing a beat, the alien swung a fist, knocking the pipe from Brackett’s hand.  His antagonist grabbed him and threw him aside like a rag doll.

Brackett flew through the air to collide with his fellow officer, sprawling them both across the floor. 

“Nice shot, Brad!” Ginsberg huffed.

“Sorry,” Brackett returned as he climbed back to his feet. “This guy’s tough!”

“Yeah,” Ginsberg agreed. “He’s a Marquadian. They’re all tough!  But he’ll be easy enough to take down if we can get him in a choke-hold.”

Brackett looked across the arena at the alien through narrowed eyes. “All right, divide and conquer.”

They turned back to the brutish alien and separated, walking around him in a wide circle until the Marquadian stood between them.  Without warning, Brackett started forward.  The alien swung a thick fist, and he ducked beneath it. 

Ginsberg charged in as soon as the thug’s back was turned, but the Marquadian was too quick. He spun around and lashed out, knocking the patrolman sprawling once again. 

It was all the time Brackett needed.  Even as Ginsberg took the hit, Brackett jumped onto the alien’s back and wrapped one arm around its neck.  The Marquadian flailed about in a panic, gasping desperately for air.  Brackett held on tightly as it began to turn blue and fell to its knees.

As the Marquadian fell to all fours, Brackett released it and landed on his feet. The brute frowned up at the patrolman with a furious gaze, sputtering and choking as the color returned to his features. “You nearly killed me!”  He croaked, then gasped a few more times before asking, “Why didn’t you?”

Brackett frowned back incredulously.  “I don’t want to kill you!” He turned to the group of other prisoners that had gathered around to watch them fight.  “We are citizens of the Allied Worlds. We don’t play by Nilboggi rules!”  He looked over the throng of prisoners, almost daring them to disagree. 

A murmur of consent swept through the prisoners.  One insectoid alien looked down at the length of pipe which he had picked up.  Slowly, he dropped it onto the floor and backed away.

Brackett nodded with satisfaction, then turned towards balcony of the Nilbog chief.  In a loud, clear voice he called up to them:  “We will not fight one another for your entertainment, do you hear?  We will not fight!”

Jol’bur trembled with rage as he jumped to his feet.  “If you will not fight against one another,” he shouted, “then you will fight against my gladiators!” He turned to a nearby underling and bellowed, “Send in the Sen’oggi!”

At Jol’bur’s command, a pair of doors beneath the platform creaked ominously open.  Brackett and the rest of the prisoners waited with baited breath as the sound of footsteps grew louder from the yawning portal. 

As six Nilbogs, each one carrying a metal staff and naked from the waist up except for a heavy pair of gauntlets and a metal collar around their necks, marched into the arena with military precision, the prisoners backed away from them. The Sen’oggi stopped as one, and turned on their heels.  They looked up to the Nilboggi officials, and raised their hands in salute.  Gom’jol, the Wor-osh, raised one armored hand in acknowledgement.

Jol’bur sneered down into the arena. “Now you will fight for us, or you will die!  Sen’oggi!  Slay!”

The six Sen’oggi tapped their rods against the floor. Each staff belched forth energy in the shape of an axe-blade.  The warriors each turned in a different direction, and began their ominous advance on the prisoners.

“Brad, it was a beautiful speech,” Ginsberg muttered under his breath, “but suddenly, I think it was a bad idea to give it!”

Brackett clapped his partner on the shoulder.  “Come on, Ginsberg!  You, me, and Sorenson are the only Patrol officers here!  It’s up to us to protect these citizens!  They’re unarmed!”

Ginsberg frowned back at him.  “So are we!”

Ignoring Ginsberg, Brackett charged. 

The Nilbog gladiator paused then swung his laser axe, and Brackett ducked beneath it. He tackled the Sen’oggi warrior, and they both rolled across the floor. When they came to a stop, Brackett found himself lying atop the Sen’oggi.  He swung his fist, slamming the alien’s head against the rough metal of the floor and knocked the gladiator unconscious. 

“Brad, look out!” Ginsberg called.

Brackett jumped to his feet with the laser axe in his ready hands and faced a pair of charging gladiators. 

The Nilboggi advanced with their weapons trained on the patrolman as he backed up a few cautious steps.

“Aw come on, guys,” Brackett said, “I don’t want to die here today, and you don’t either, do ya?”

“It is an honor and a privilege to die for the Wor-osh,” one Sen’ogg snapped as he thrust his axe towards Brackett’s chest.

Brackett jumped back and swung his own axe wildly. As he knocked the invading weapon aside, he spied a third Nilbog gladiator coming towards him and backed further away, deftly dodging the laser axes.  He stopped moving when he backed against one of the wall partitions that littered the arena. 

Three Nilboggi laser axes pointed at him. 

The patrolman gulped.  “So that’s the Nilbog way, huh?  I guess none of you could handle a fair fight.  Not you, or you, or you,” he said as he gestured to each one in turn.  “Not even your precious Wor-osh.  After all, you guys are only down here risking your lives because he’s too cowardly to do his own dirty work, right?”

The three Sen’oggi gasped.  One rasped, “What was that?”

“I said if your Wor-osh wasn’t such a coward, he’d come down here and fight himself!” Brackett shouted. A murmur rippled through the audience of Nilbogs above.

Jol’bur glared down at the cornered patrolman.  “You filthy you-man!” he cried.  “You dare to speak so about…”  He was silenced when the Wor-osh beside him grabbed him by the shoulder.

Gom’jol stood, his synthesized voice booming throughout the vast chamber.  “That sounded like a challenge to me. And I accept!”

To Be Continued...



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