The Pit

 

Lieutenant George Washington Radick awoke in a dim cell, to the sensation of being prodded by someone else's foot. A grey-skinned face loomed over him in odd proportions. There were gills on either side of the woman's neck. Her nose was turned up at the end, and her eyes were ever-so-slightly slanted.

"Oooh, Jareth, can I have this one?"

"I don't see why not, dear."

Radick managed to prop himself sitting up. "Where - " He cut himself off sharply and recited name, rank, and service number.

The two Rock-dwellers smiled at each other. "I'll get him ready for you, Katya."

The half-Oppsilian kissed him and left the room. Jareth then began to stare at his prisoner rather intensely. Radick did not move.

Jareth, noting that the Starfleet officer was healthy, well-fed and in shape, swiftly knocked him unconscious and decided to schedule the match for that very night.

***

Inside the fighting arena known as the Pit, Katya prepared to fight. Dressed in a new Athmari skinsuit - a gift from Kado - she checked to be certain that the fit was correct. The surface of the suit felt like gelatin or extremely malleable, soft rubber. From certain angles, it was possible to see through it...to a certain extent. Beautiful and useful. She might have to break her own rules and wear it more than once.

A leg-sheath strapped to the suit received a long knife which had been her mother's. No member of her family had carried it into combat since the Empire conquered Oppsilia. She looked forward to the chance to use it, but remembered that she would probably have to rely on her staff. Jareth wanted the slave alive if possible, to be further humiliated, and there was no point in cutting short the new slave's agony.

She could hear the noise of the crowd. It was impossible to tell how the preceding match was going - too many screaming fans on both sides. She tested the skinsuit against the point of a dagger lying on a nearby table, then dipped her fingernails in a poison which would slow but not kill her opponent.

The sounds from beyond the tiny room had turned to cheers and moans. It was time to go find Jareth.

***

In Radick's holding pen, Jareth was beginning to feel very pleased with himself. Only Radick's feet were shackled, and Jareth leaned over the slave as closely as possible without putting himself within the Starfleet officer's grasp.

"Oh, you think you're so smart, do you? You Starfleet peons only serve one purpose, do you know that? To kill each other off so that your Emperor has less competition. He surrounds himself with the ones who make it through all that, the ones who have learned to be cautious...they're the ones who know they would never survive ousting him.

"Don't get me wrong." He gazed down with a maddeningly false expression of sympathy. "My people do the same thing. It's just that everyone here had the good sense to get out of the system and stop living and dying for the high lords above!"

Radick fumed, but his vocal cords and tongue had been paralyzed earlier that day. He was able to make a few baby-like approximaitions of words, but it would not fully wear off until shortly after he was tossed into the arena. Anything he said then was not abuse but entertainment.

"Do you really think you could survive outside that pathetic little game of yours?" Jareth was suddenly inspired. "I'll give you one chance to deck me...if you can do it, maybe I'll let you go."

Radick, howling in response, threw himself forward. He landed on his face, but before that he managed to get one hand on Jareth's ear.

The "false" ear did not come off. Instead, his mask fell, revealing a face not all that unlike ones Radick had seen not too long before...

Starfleet was circulating pictures now. The starship captain, Kado, and the other one...that smuggler who had slid through Starfleet's border patrols so many times...the fox-faced Ambassador who brought the half-elf...

Oh, yes, there was definitely a family resemblance.

Katya, though not able to mind-speak to the Athmari as Moonstone was, could feel Seleyn begin to panic. She reached the door as he strode out, mask in place once more and dragging the human out toward the arena.

"Let's go, lover! Everyone is waiting..."

Katya could do nothing but follow blindly as he led Radick down the hallway.

***

The noise was deafening. As she had several times before, Katya wished she'd used her flesh-shaping to make her hearing less sensitive for the duration of the match. However, she'd been well served by remaining alert and listening carefully to the breathing patterns of her opponent, so she did not give in to the temptation.

She lifted her staff high. Time to give the proles what they wanted. "Decades ago, Starfleet enslaved my people and turned our great warriors into servants." Well, that wasn't entirely true - she was as much human as Oppsilian and therefore humans were just as much 'her people.' She turned toward Radick and said, almost as loudly, "I have always wanted to do this."

That got a lot of sound out of the watching hordes. Trolls waved their hammers and picks in the air. Athmari gestured wildly in the time-honored hand signals for bloody combat. Klingons slammed tankards of bloodwine against the arms of their seats, splashing their neighbors and causing a few impromptu matches on the side. All of them screamed at the top of their lungs.

Radick saw his chance and prepared to take it. Fighting a still-heavy tongue, he opened his mouth to speak.

Katya hit him squarely in the stomach with her metal staff. He then brought his own weapon up and began to concentrate on the fight. His reflexes were faster and his reach longer, but Katya had trained with staffs for decades and could easily counter anything he brought against her.

As the minutes passed, Radick grew weaker but felt more and more in control of his voice. He had to move quickly or he knew the grey-skinned woman would knock his brains out.

He blocked an attack, then stepped away quickly. "That masked fool of yours is deceiving you! His appearance is closer to the truth than you might th-"

Katya's staff connected sharply with his back, just where Seleyn had kicked him that morning in order to wake him up. He turned, attacking with such force that she had to back away.

Katya pulled the knife out of its sheath and lunged at Radick just as he began to speak again. She sank it into his heart with one clean stroke, then shoved him down to the arena floor so that no one would be able to hear him over the howls of the mob in the stands.

***

Sheyrn Pellor was waiting at the door to meet her. "Congratulations, my lady."

"Thank you."

"A victory over the oppressive forces of Starfleet...and an almost completely successful defense of your pet with the funny ears."

Katya turned and glared at him. "What makes you think that the human wasn't just making something up in revenge for what we did to him?"

"It would explain quite a few things about Jareth."

She shook her head and frowned. "What would make anyone think that Jareth is an elf?" She knew that her method of response would make the rumor seem even more credible to Pellor.

Katya walked back to the private rooms behind the arena, satisfied by the successful evasion.