Author's Note:
Well, after much ado, I've good news. I can put this story back up. AND I'm gonna be putting it up on Deviantart as well for others to enjoy. Credit will once again go to the respective owners who so kindly gave me permission to use their characters and who helped me to refine this story.
BLOOD SPORT: INFERNO, PURGATORIO, PARADISO
Prologue
I do not claim nor do I seek to be great. I seek only to be Good, and I truly believe that is the greatest thing that any living being can ever become.
She had curled horns like all Vortians. Grey, rather hard skin. Spring-like legs and a dark blue shirt with shorts of pale blue, and the most vibrant pink eyes in all the world.
This was May Nar.
"I missed you so much." Nick said, hugging her body closely to his own.
"I missed YOU so much!" She cooed back.
This was Nick's wife.
"Get a room." One Irken with a thick accent mumbled. They decided to do just that and slunk off into the women's bathroom. Seeing the entrance of a couple, all the girls within the bathroom looked at each other, giggled a little, then decided to let the "kids have some alone time".
"Oh, how long has it been?"
"Hours…at least."
Their lips began to find each other, and they started kissing passionately. SMMK. SMMK. SMMMMMKKKHHH.
"I love you!"
"I love you more!"
"I love YOU more!"
"I…uh, you first, or me?" Nick asked, breaking the kiss.
"I dinged the ship. How about you?"
"I punched out Invader Larb again. He made the whole "Blind Date" joke with Darth again."
"So…you won't…REALLY do it, right?" May asked, a non-existent eyebrow raised up on her features.
"No, of course not." Nick said gently, caressing her cheek. "I wouldn't do that to somebody good. Tiara is innocent."
"Good." She smiled and stepped back from him, sitting on a nearby sink. "So so far, so good?"
"Definitely. You've been keeping track of the other contestants, right?" He asked, raising a non-existent eyebrow of his own, looking curious as he pulled down his "mouth mask" on the lower region of his face to smile slightly at her.
"Bo and Ian and I are all part of the betting procedures on Vort, so we know about who's won." May said with a hint of pride, waving a hand in the air. She then pulled out a small, square-shaped thing that glittered slightly in the light, black and sleek. She tapped the center and a small hologram appeared in mid-air, displaying one contestant after another. All of them had been entered into Blood Sport or had entered of their own free will. Some for good reasons, others bad.
Nick looked over the contestants. He felt sad as he gazed at many of them. He'd seen a few of these faces at the Jungle zone. He'd stayed on the planet longer than the others just so he could give the losers a decent burial and proper respects…he knew the faces he was looking at would never get to see their goals through…and not all had been evil. It was too cruel…it truly was.
He looked over them, one at time. As senior communications officer of the Massive, he had access to information that many others didn't. He knew things. And more importantly, he had a psychic friend who knew what he didn't. Hopes…fears…dreams…
This first one. Nixus. Downright awful how she'd ended up in Blood Sport. She was a friggin' WAITRESS for Christ's sake. And chosen randomly by the committee. From the reports he'd looked over, she'd been nabbed up by a forceful probe and drugged. Scumbags. He made a mental note to do a little something about them the next time the committee wanted to make a communications call. Perhaps, say, put their most insulting words on a tape, play the tape for the Tallest to make it seem like a real call, and watch as Red and Purple "solve infernis'd" on whatever building the-
No. That's not the right thing. What had been done to Nixus was sick, but you don't cure what's sick by doing something even worse.
Then there was Vyp. She had entered willingly. Spirited. A touch of spunkiness was what she brought to the competition. She could also turn cannibalistic…there was a lot of that going around in the competition. Nick shivered. She had beautiful eyes, yes…but still…a cannibal. It wasn't ALL her fault, she hadn't wanted to get infected with that virus, but what was to be done?
Myo. Oh, poor Myo. She was a sweet, nice little girl. A smeet, really. And she had such a cute outfit too! She'd been implanted with a set of wings as a personal gift by Tallest Red and Purple because apparently she'd done them an ENORMOUS favor at one point. He suspected it had something to do with saving them from choking on a snacky cake, most likely.
Dybbuk in contrast was not nice. She was an assassin, born and bred. She was used to killing and had come close to being executed herself. But from what he'd read of transcripts at her Irken Existence Evaluation, she'd narrowly escaped death due to Tallest Purple's caprice. He'd been disgusted to learn how many people she'd killed, but at least she had a thing against killing kids. But…Myo…
He shook his head. Next up was Nyrhtak. His outfit was downright sleek and stylish. The term "Ninja" sprang to Nick's mind as he looked this Irken over. With his mask, he was relentless and brave, even cold-hearted. Without it, he was timid, even cowardly…he even STUTTERED, from what Darth had learned. He had a "history". Nick had not asked what he'd done to get the Empire mad at him. If he ever met Nyrhtak, he'd ask nicely.
Rasmund. Oooooh. This Irken sent shivers down Nick's spine. He was a respected professor, but also "Batshit insane" as Darth had informed him. One tiny peek into the man's mind…one peek too many. He wasn't physically strong at all, in fact, he might be called a "99 pound weakling", but like Scarecrow with his fear gas, his psychological tactics were enough to make Psycho Mantis want to take notes. Nick however, felt sorry for him. He was insane, like some other members in the competition. They didn't know any better.
Neon. Another insane Irken. Also, at one point, a respectable man of science. Now he was a cannibalistic-leaning, psychopathic, crazy-claw-wielding beast. He had slaughtered anybody who got on his bad side…and as for the people who'd been about to escort him to Blood Sport? Way dead. Nick shook his head. Another sick person…what kind of thoughts went through that thing that had once been a person's head?
Rayna. Pretty eyes and an interesting rumor about her. Nick hoped it wasn't true. ANOTHER blood-drinker?! She looked like an angel, walked like an angel, talked like an angel…but she was a devil in disguise if the rumor was true! Still, he knew she had a deep love for her family…that he respected.
Karma. What an interesting name for an interesting competitor. She was well-trained in martial arts, and had a pretty body, a nice apartment in the city…and from the news reports, she'd done a bad job at murdering Ivan Kire, wealthy CEO of, interestingly, a same company that did much to sponsor Blood Sport…which she'd joined up to clean her slate. She seemed pretty "normal", actually. Nick felt bad for her. Most murderers…MOST…were usually nice people who made one terrible mistake, the murder of another being. Other than that act, they usually were rather agreeable folks. Karma seemed to exemplify this. Nice girl. Just made a big, bloody mistake.
Cas. A male defective who'd gone missing for quite a long time according to the records. But he'd learned something good about Cas…he hated what the Empire was, what it did, the cruelty it caused. He understood to that if the Irken race didn't change…that was it for all of them, one way or another. He wasn't a bad guy, he was considerate and his goal was noble. He didn't even seem to like killing, he only did it to move towards the goal of destroying the Empire…Nick hoped he'd never have to fight him.
Keena. Quiet girl. Kinda shy, slightly hesitant. From what Nick had heard from Sue, who'd done some "girl talk", Keena had had her PAK…tinkered with. A stolen program had been put into the PAK, and the one who'd stolen it and placed it inside the PAK had been arrested. She was fighting for his sake…love. God almighty, she was doing it for love. He couldn't stop love.
Core. Now this guy had some issues. All the reports said the same words. Unorthodox in humor. Vulgar. Cocky. Rash. Stubborn. And "Ridiculously obsessed with anything sexy". Dammit…everyone kept saying Nick had beautifully cute eyes. Combined with his really round head, he looked like some plush toy that people wanted to pick up and squeeze. Core had been a rogue for 50 years though…he was NOT a pushover, and his PAK was custom made. Nick hoped he wouldn't have to fight Core, not because he was afraid of the Irken's dangerous hidden weapons, but because he was a prude when it came to sex.
Kam, an Irken with an unusual attribute…attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. She was homicidal, liked sharp and shiny things (especially if she could stab people with them) and was thrown out of the army for stabbing an officer in the eye. She'd been exiled to a planet filled with man-eating plants but had survived and was now on the run. Sue had told him that Kam was ticklish. That was cute, Nick thought, smiling slightly. He'd remember that.
Shojah. The Vortian was a behemoth, a dangerous murdering cannibal and, interestingly, had a wife and kids. Nick felt bad about that. Honestly he had SOME good in him, he had a thing about hurting kids and yet…he seemed so frightening and dark. Darth had informed him that "this is one to watch for, there's more to him than meets the eye". He seemed strong, powerful, and had very dangerous weapons. But…was it all his fault? It seemed he was experimented on…hmm.
Oh boy. Regulus. Reg. Nick KNEW him. This was an Irken that had, at one point, been Trik and Darth's best friend. They'd been a triumverate of powerful "defectives" who'd put their skills to use for the empire. The only problem was that their was something twistedly cruel about Reg. He was xenophobic, malicious and nasty. Furthermore, there was something odd about his blood. It BURNT. Like ACID. And the man was a perverted sexual deviant too who thought of sex as a way to assert dominance over the weak.
Riza. She was persistent and her mind couldn't handle failure of any kind. It drove her insane. She wasn't good with guns from what the reports on her tests said, but her swordsmanship skills were off the charts! She was a defective who had once tried to overthrow the Tallest, but she'd failed and had been forcibly entered in Blood Sport. If she lost…her daughter would die. Nick felt sympathy fill his heart as he looked at her. He didn't agree with her methods, but he felt sorry for her daughter. He made a mental note to try and get his friends to track the little one down.
The next competitor was named Ziik, a short but very smart Irken Mechanical Scientist. He was a friggin' genius with PAK technology and apparently had a biting personality, a person who preferred their love online, thinkin' they were doin' fine, though they were just plugged into the wall. His force field technology was outstanding, Nick noted. But his body looked so…sickly. Nick felt nervous looking at him. He worried that if another competitor didn't kill him, his heart might just give out…a "Simon Birch" deal.
Kei was the next fighter, a female Irken who was supposed to be sadistic and moody, who really, REALLY liked the green stuff…by which I mean money. Gold, jewels...all that glittered was good to her. She was a mercenary-type through and through, and usually liked wearing rings on her body. Hmm. Nice touch, but still, she seemed REALLY mean. Anybody so obsessed with money had to be watched…who knew which way they'd tip in the end. Still, he'd have to meet her to get a good bead on her.
Norge was the next one to get his attention. He was an "unfeeling bastard" and apparently a racist who hated Vortians with a passion…or rather, ANY race that wasn't Irken. Hoo boy. Apparently he'd been experimented on by an Vortian scientist…that would have made Nick pissed too. No wonder he was so-cold-hearted. He was taken as a little SMEET. Poor thing…
Mir might have looked young, but she was actually a dictator who was a fierce "Bible-Beating, DIE HEATHEN" type of Christian. She believed that anybody who didn't agree with her deserved to burn…and she usually did the burning, according to Darth, who'd tried to engage her on an ethical/religious discussion. Luckily he'd gotten away before she could get out the holy water balloons. He wondered if he should ever meet her at all…he wanted to know if it was true that she'd memorized the entire Bible.
Saik…had he heard of her bef-oh, yes! Slightly insane, said to be teetering on the brink of utter madness. She despised the military, had SHE been the one to mail that general his wife's head, he wondered. He had heard she'd been abused as a little one, and after being almost killed in battle, what little sanity she had left was now under constant pressure. She didn't believe in a "fair fight". Fine. He fought dirty too…but hey, he'd tell her that before throwing dirt in her eyes.
Q Boks was an interesting being. A Vortian with many scars on his wizened face, his right eye had been permanently destroyed and scarred from a whip. He hated the Irken Empire and wore a stylish tuxedo, making Nick think instantly of Bond. Heh. Boks. Q Boks. He wondered if the Vortian would get the reference if he ever tried it out. Maybe. Vortians liked humans a bit more than Irkens did, and Boks seemed to be an honorable chap. Nick made a mental note to never mention the word "Goat" to this guy. Vortians went INSANE if you called them goats.
The next fighter was known as "Stef". Stef had multiple personality disorder, but…it was an unusual kind from what the army reports had said. They took over whenever he fell in and out of consciousness. The personality called "Dave" was what Nick had to be most wary of. Danny was a nymphomaniac, creepy, and Denzel was paranoid, but Dave was supposed to be an absolute monster. Nick thought back to his own brother…also named Dave. He sighed. If only his brother knew what he was doing now…
Lox. Heh. Funny name. He was a con artist, cold-hearted and clever who didn't give a damn about nobody but himself. Fast and alert, Lox seemed to have stolen a buttload of powerful weaponry, and even had skills in invisibility. That made him verrrry dangerous. But from what Sue had told him, he had an intense fear of death…and a poor knowledge of physics or chemistry. More importantly, he was an illusion-worker. That meant he was essentially a big phony underneath all the fancy gimmicks. But, then again, Nick LIKED magicians.
Deithar…well, well, well. He'd heard about what he'd done. He'd accidentally killed somebody…and now his only hope was to be redeemed in Blood…Sport. Poor guy. He was from a race of "Fallen Irkens", and therefore people already doubted his honesty. Most of the time he was a nice, sweet guy, but Nick had heard whispers of a dark personality hiding deep inside…
Miki. Oh, oh, oh. Poor little thing. She was so young. She was only half Irken, the other half was Andoran blood. She was a street rat taken off the streets by somebody who sought to use her in underground animal fights. She was the kind of person who did anything for food…and unfortunately, this meant she could go from "sweet thing" to "face-cruncher".
Rekki was a scientist. But Nick wasn't sure if she was "respectable" or had ever been at one point. She was manipulative, very, VERY insane, brilliant…this was the sort of person who, after seeing her work, you'd wanna shake her hand…then blow her away. It wasn't all her fault though, she too had been heavily abused as a child. Nick wondered what her idea of a "better future for the Irken Empire" truly was…
Renee was another Vortian, but a female. Her eyes reminded him of May, but instead of warmth, there was strong resolve…even cold-heartedness. She was, according to May, a member of the Resisty, and an elite warrior with an immensely strong will and powerful moves. She had a big grudge against the empire like many Vortians due to a brand General Pin had given her over her eye. Nick wondered if she'd made him pay yet. He'd heard he'd once kicked a smeet. Nasty prick.
Kalte was another mercenary, and supposed to be as emotionless as the sword he carried. He was cold-hearted, dangerous, and hated being called cute. Mental note, Nick thought, never call him cute. Nick had gone through some reports on the missions he'd done…nasty stuff. Clearly stealth and surprise would work best if he ever had to fight this one.
Flosh was a powerfully-built criminal exterminator and Captain of the 5th battalion flank of the Irken Empire's army. He was stoic and by-the-book, and had a penchant for vodka, one of the few things about humans that Irkens liked…their art of distillation was unparalleled save for the Vortians and their firewhisky. His friend had, according to court reports, been shipped to a gruesome fate on a penitentiary planet light years away, and Flosh blamed himself. It didn't seem fair though, what had happened to Dicate had seemed to be an accident…
Dr. Keek was one of the "good ones". He was a nice, optimistic sort. He was a dedicated doctor and intelligent, though kind of wimpy. His equipment was all based around medical technology and he was said to be a genius. Why was he in Blood Sport? Money. He needed it according to his expense accounts…he was really running low, and he couldn't take care of his patients without it. Poor man, Nick thought sadly.
Laz was not a "poor man". She wasn't even a man. She was a sarcastic, proud girl who had, at one point, been an Elite in the Irken military as a guard on the Massive. She'd been so good, she was assigned to be a guard at the Great Assigning for Operation Impending Doom 2…but, somehow, she'd ended up being arrested for "attempted murder of the Tallest". She was now a loyalist-hating rebel. Once again, he sympathized with her intent, though he was unsure of her means.
Deor…oh WOW.A Irken-Zith-Nerokai…according to Darth, this was another race that was "fallen" in the eyes of many. He'd been at one point a skilled and dangerous soldier, a sergeant in the army, employed by Zinerion High Command. Their kind had committed genocide to stop a race of absolute monsters…but did that make THEM monsters as well? Nick bit his lip. Deor, huh…
Rub'Akho, the "Specter of Vengeance"! May was a fan of his. He had a thick Southern accent and was a Lieutenant in the ranks of the Vortian military with high marksmanship scores. Once again, he was a Vortian who hated the Irken race with a passion, but he was also very honorable and deep-rooted in tradition. Still, he'd killed many, MANY Irkens to avenge his murdered mate and son…the poor man, Nick thought sadly, shaking his head. He didn't want to fight Rub'Akho. He truly didn't.
Crudge was an Irken who had once been in the Elite, and was affected with heterochromia. This, Nick thought, was very cool. He had volunteered for Blood Sport for, according to the papers he'd handed in, a chance to kill time…and redeem himself. Apparently he'd had what was described as a…personality conflict. How does one have a personality conflict with a BATTLE TANK?!
Beta was a young Irken who was also an exile. He had interestingly deep aqua eyes with a big smirk on his face, indicating a personality that was easy-going, even cocky. He seemed to be a joking, nice kinda guy. He was, however, a loner thief and he apparently was unsure where he truly belonged. One moment there were reports of him working for the Resisty, the other he was stealing from Lard Nar's wallet. An interesting character, most definitely…
Zig, aka Zizzy Julia Black, seemed to be a nice girl at first…but Sue's chatting with the girls had brought something to Nick's attention…she had a demon in her! Yes, she was charming, but if one got on her bad side…yikes. She seemed very emotional for an Irken, and she had one of the most beautiful pairs of antennae Nick had ever seen. Nick wondered why she was in Blood Sport. It seemed to be personal, according to what Sue had heard.
May-Lin had eyes so much like his own May Nar…she was cheerful, happy, optimistic and something of a tomboy. She was very interested in technology and machines, and she had, according to Sue, hacked her own PAK. She had no engrained loyalty to Irk. She'd even made her own robotic companion. The origin of her scar was an absolute mystery…Nick smiled as he looked at her picture. He hoped she'd get far.
Spring…such a pretty name, and such pretty eyes. She too had MPD, and was somewhat sadistic. She liked to "play with her food", as the saying went. Apparently, according to the science reports, she was experimented on and was put in a cage with a shock collar placed upon her. She had, at one point, be used to hunt down prisoners. Dangerous…
The next one was dangerous too, a femme fatale. Yree was her name, and she had once been a food service drone. She'd gone AWOL because, quite simply, she was a pathological liar who happened to be nuttier than squirrel poo. She had a superiority complex, had little empathy, and was probably one of the few people Nick wished would get hit by a mack truck. Not DIE, mind you, but still…
Krim was the next opponent. He'd been on from birth by Xitah, an Irken scientist and his "mother", who, in her quest to make the "perfect celestial being", actually turned him into the most highly carnivorous, disturbed, psychopathic, bisexual cross-dressing being to ever walk the earth…another freaky, sociopathic nutjob. Jesus Holy Dubya Christ, god save this person's enemies, Krim was sadistic, had a living PAK and elongated claws…
Sadi the Sadist. Easy to remember, hard to forget. A poor Irken named Tanner had told Darth, who happened to be on-planet, about this monstrous Irken. She was sociopathic, cannibalistic, nasty, and apparently HEAVILY interested in Blood Sport. The good news, he'd heard, was that she was easily distracted…especially by cute things. And well…he was "too cute", according to many. It was these darn beautiful eyes, dang it.
Sari was an innocent, young Irken who shouldn't have entered into the competition in Nick's opinion because…well, she seemed so young…so sweet. But he also knew she could get downright dangerous and scary from what Skoodge had told him about her. The two of them were close friends, and Nick bit his lip at the thought of the little one…
Xem was much different. Cocky, sure of himself, and skilled in the ways of fighting, with a flair all his own. He enjoyed saying "Let's Rock and Roll" and had a very unusual ability with his arms…they could transform into blades, or his claws would elongate or they'd change to feed off an enemy…twisted indeed. May told him that he ran one of the biggest underground military forces there was…a fact she was only aware of because of her abusive ex-husband, a former Vortian crime boss.
Dr. Nimbus…another doctor. He was said to be spastic and hyperactive at times, sometimes he was cold-blooded and sociopathic. His mood swung often, but what was sure was that one…he was a big coward, he ran really fast, and he DID have a lot of medical training. Nick thought he'd get far solely because there was a trait about him…that of sheer luck. You could tell, just by looking at a guy…luck would keep him alive.
Shmet was a fleet commander for the Irken Armada. In fact, Nick had met him once before. He'd not only seen him fighting on Vort, but he'd seen him on board the Massive when the Tallest had called his ship up. He had apparently been signed up by a friend of his…hooooo boy. Poor guy. Nick hoped he'd be alright.
Shliek…insidious. Sinister. His body was an abomination of science in many's eyes. He had a history…he was rumored to be a project of a horrifically evil project. He was a sarcastic kind of guy, and kind of a pervert…still, he was no means a pushover. He had enhanced, strength, speed, hearing, and sight, and a strange electrical ability according to those wonderful, WONDERFULLY helpful military reports.
Zor. Oh no. Not Zor. Nick felt a pang of remorse go through him. Zor had, at one point, been in the competition of Blood Sport…but he'd died. How…how was he still alive? Hadn't Domm…yes, he had. The poor being. His body had changed. He was no longer whom he once was…but wait. Nick remembered. A being named Calico…one of pure black had been Zor's reason for entering. Still locked up, according to the prison reports. What if…maybe…he'd have to talk to Zor if he ever saw him. Maybe he could do Zor a solid…
Siren was very much a woman with a mission to win. She fearless, arrogant, calculating, from what Sue had learned…but she was also very, VERY interested in jewelry. That was good to know. She was also a space pirate and had joined Blood Sport for the obvious reason of GETTING FILTHY STINKING RICH AND FAMOUS. Hoo hah.
Vex was different though. He was a gentleman, an honorable sort who was an ex-invader…and a babysitter most of the time. He was currently a General in the army, but was clearly a compassionate sort of person. Darth had told Nick that Vex was not a monster at all, but was trying to be more hard of heart…to make his job easier. Nick felt sad about that. This person had genuine love and compassion in him…he should try and keep that alive…not work to destroy it. He had loved ones back home to think of…
Zak, different from Z'ak, was a bounty hunter and assassin. In other words, he actually WORKED for a living, unlike the Tallest. Heh, that always made him smirk. He had a twisted sense of honor though…he tried not to kill innocents…only his targets. It was possible he was a defect…but Nick didn't care. He DID notice that Zak lived on Meekrob though…apparently he was under their employ, he assumed. Hmm. Usually the Meekrob DESPISED Irkens…
Ker San was a Vortian, and a cheery, kinda goofy one at that. He was an albino, which Nick found to be quite neat, and, sadly, a racist, which was too bad. He hated Irkens with a passion, had a perverted fetish for nurses, and Nick swore if Ker San ever went near his wife, he'd punch out the Vortian's remaining "good" eye. He was incredibly fast and bomb-happy too. Nick wondered what he'd think of Nick if he knew that he was a human-turned-Irken-dating-a-Vortian…heck, he wondered about what a LOT of the Vortians and Irkens would think of that if they knew.
Kane was an Irken with, like several others, demon blood. He really, REALLY seemed to enjoy his powers, and was kind of an overreacting type of guy. He was very creative though, from what Darth had learned, and was in Blood Sport for "family honor" according to his information sheet. Interesting. Family honor, huh?
Syd was the son of an incredibly great assassin and his mother had taught him the way of the gun. He was apparently in the tournament to convince his father of his skills. Nick could respect that, he honestly could. The problem with Syd was that he could get unfocused and distracted if he neglects to take his medicines…he was very dependent on medication. Nick felt bad for him. He hoped Syd didn't die.
"Vexxy" was another Irken Nick knew of…from wanted posters. He was a serial killer, a bisexual, bloodthirsty being who had, according to the rumors, been so abused by his father that it had set off a chain reaction…now he was obsessed with killing. Nick bit his lip. He hoped he didn't meet this one…he was too much of a soft-hearted fool. Would he really have the heart to kill? Even a killer?
Loc was an interesting character. A gangster-like kind of guy with a dead aim, Loc seemed to be almost…cartoonish in his outlandishness. The gear, the clothes, the long, sharp claws, the accent…what wasn't funny was his cool attitude towards wasting somebody. This was not somebody to screw around with…and he seemed to have a…way with the ladies.
Tav…wait, TAV? Oh no. Oh NO. Not TAV. He knew about Tav. Tekkinav happened to be an annoyingly persistent, dangerous and sociopathic Irken that Nick had had the unfortunate pleasure of contacting for several…favors…in the Tallest's name. She was a bigot, she was a brat, she was a…well…a WITCH with a capital B! Nick had honestly tried not to hate her, but…well, if anybody deserved to be run over and KILLED by a Mack Truck, Tav came PREEEEETTY close!
Gig was different from Tav, thankfully. Not a bigot. Not brash or mean. In fact, she was…a smeet, really. So young. So childlike and curious. Very innocent in many ways. Accoridng to what Darth had learned, She is the creation of Ratch, an ex-irken-scientist who was supposed to be insane…and looked so CUUUUUTE. Nick wanted to pick her up and squeeze her.
Cheese, eh…Nick grinned at this. Yo Quiero Queso! Cheese happened to be a banished Irken Invader…and a young one at that. Why was he banished? According to the official reports, "insubordination". This probably meant he had said "no" to the system. He seemed nice, though…not a bad guy at all. Nick hoped he'd be alright in this competition.
The next one had a familiar name. He too was named Darth, like Nick's dear friend. This one was also a patient and friendly type, though very much capable of sight and faaaar younger. Apparently, from a police report he'd filed, his best friend had been "killed by a demon". He was apparently entering into Blood Sport to…to kill Kane. Oh dear.
Zergarikiaka, or Zerg, was an interesting competitor with a problem. sHE had severe Marfan's Syndrome, which was characterized by excessive height and thinness of his limbs, as well as intense cardiovascular issues. She'd experimented on herself and had gained considerable pscyokinetic powers, and was also a sadistic jerk. Darth had spied on her once before…and she had left a shivering impression on the powerful psychic. He'd been afraid to dive into her mind…what was lurking inside.
Molly was another femme fatale…a VERY fatale indeed! She appeared to be somewhat of a witch…her power involved capturing the souls of her enemies, and furthermore, she had metallic claws and a cape of living flame…still, this meant a VERY large weakness to water, more so than most Irkens…and from what Sue had learned in her gossip, she HATED the Tallest. Hated, hated, hated.
Eail was another cannibalistic girl. She'd once been normal, but Zim's screwing around at Operation Impending Doom 1…which Nick had barely avoided getting harmed in and had sworn to pay Nick back for stealing HIS battle tank…had caused a series of events that had forever changed her. She was sadistic, impatient and had super-keen senses. But…she was practically ALLERGIC to daylight…much like a vampire. Nick grinned wryly.
Nuk was an Irken, but…not an ordinary one. She was also a vampire, you see…or at least, partly one. She didn't NEED to drink blood, she could eat normal food. She was labeled "Defective", despite her clear skills in fighting. She wanted to be in Blood Sport to gain respect, and to rejoin society. Nick felt pity rise in him…she only wanted acceptance. He hoped she'd somehow find it.
Galena was a defective as well. He had originally sought to be a field medic for the Elite soldiers, but the tragic loss of friends and his lover caused him to stray from that life and become a vagabond of sorts. Now he did whatever work he felt like. He was forced into Blood Sport because, quite simply, he'd gotten dealt a shoddy hand. Darn committee, Nick thought.
Arsenal Rev Black had assassin's blood in him, Nick noted. His mother was Master Assassin and skilled Trainer Oben Eve Black, his father…would become Tallest Red in time. He looked slender and tall…and skilled. His eyes shone with dark brilliance, and sent a chill through Nick's body. What was he capable of?
Skoo. Heh. A rival of Zor's. Captain in the Armada, a placid, normal kind of guy. Nick knew him from the Massive's many calls to other ships, the guy was an avid stargazer and had been quite a skilled Invader. Furthermore, he knew a LOT of funny jokes…wait. A lot of them were Vortian jokes. Great. He could never tell his wife any of them. Dang.
"I just don't get it." He finally said, looking the contestants over. "So many of these guys are…well, they should have been shot off into a star, not…not allowed into Blood Sport to hurt people who actually have hearts. Why would the Empire…"
"Maybe they're hoping those who DO have hearts will do something." May admitted. "…a lot of evil people…more evil than good…die in Blood Sport, you know."
Nick bit his lip. This was true in many ways. The worst of the worst went into Blood Sport…and frankly…they never really came back. This WAS a way to get rid of the most horrible beings in the Irken Empire, but…but there was no reason the good beings that entered should suffer. There should have been a different way to deal with Blood Sport.
It was cruel, horrible, to revel in the suffering of others, villain or not. Nobody deserved to die the way somebody like Xis had killed…or to perish the way Domm and Raf had, dying fighting each other…there were no true winners…
Things had to change. People had to understand and care about those involved. And he had to do all he could to make sure as many good people as possible got out of Blood Sport alive…and to ultimately take down the entire thing.
You stay here…and I'll go look…for God… Nick sang softly as May put the hologram-dispenser away. Not so hard…cuz I know where…he's not…
He gently reached up, holding her cheek, then pulling her close. Her slightly rough body didn't feel grating against his own as he held her to his chest, gently squeezing her.
I will bring him back with me…make him listen…make him see…
He gave her one more kiss on the forehead. "I have to get going. I'm meeting with Darth to head off to Blood Sport soon…" He informed his wife.
He gave her a final goodbye kiss, then waved goodbye, heading off the space station to the teleportation pods. He had to make a final stop at a certain place...at home.
…
…
…
…Looking into the mirror, he placed a single, three-fingered, clawed hand against it and looked himself over in the mirror. He did not see the form that others would see. That of a green-clothed communications officer in the Irken Empire with vibrantly brilliant green eyes, black boots and gloves with a lack of PAK upon his person. What he saw was the person he truly was beneath this mask that was not quite a mask. A brown-haired human teenager with hazel/green eyes that smiled warmly back at another warm smile.
"I'll keep you my dirty-little-secret." He sang happily as he stepped back and turned away from it. Dusting himself off, he looked down at himself and sighed. His outfit as a communications officer wasn't special or anything…slightly darker shoulder patches and his arms were the same shade…what people would notice most of all would be his antennae, they had multiple triangular tips running up and down it, like "hair" almost…and of course, his lack of a-
"It's finished." A smooth, very soft voice called out, sounding almost like liquid silk. Nick looked up in the middle of the bathroom and exited it quickly, leaving it's pink-painted walls behind to stand within the comforting yellow of the living room. He walked down the hallway to the living room as his partner and good friend looked up, smiling softly and holding "it" up.
"It is finished." He said. "Your PAK." Darth, the Hierophant intoned. Its circular patches were the same color as Nick's chest and leg regions of his outfit, just like the mask that covered the spot on Nick's face which would have been, if he'd had one, right beneath his nose, covering his mouth and chin. Nick's circular face beamed broadly as he looked it over. It looked quite sturdy…and more importantly, shiny.
"Thank you, Darithil." Nick told Darth.
"Please, do not call me that." Darth insisted, shaking his head, closing his blind eyes before he reopened the milky orbs to "look" Nick over. It had been easy to put the final touches on the PAK. It had only been the second part that needed adjustment…the final touches. Their doctor friend had finished up the first part…
"This looks amazing." Nick remarked. He was about to ask Darth to put it on his back, but he decided he could do it himself. He turned himself around and placed it against his back. It quickly latched on, digging into his back. Nick had NOT been prepared for the pain…it shot through him like somebody was striking in four spikes into a circular area in the middle of his back via a large sledgehammer.
"MOTHEROFGOOOOOOOOD!!!" Nick roared out. "Oh IRK! OH IIIIIIRRRK!" He screamed. He let out loud gasps as something began to pump into his bloodstream…a numbing agent secreted from the PAK that was killing the pain and accelerating the healing process. He let out a long, deep sigh, then turned to Darth.
"So you made the adjustments?" He asked Darth.
"Yes." Darth said, placing his pointer claws together and tapping gently. "It's done. The limiter is placed within." He nodded firmly and then grinned. "Are you satisfied with the…color? I had to scan your mind to get it right, but…"
Nick patted Darth on the head. Even though he was twice as tall as him, Darth didn't feel looked-down-on. "I appreciate it. Your psionic abilities are super useful!" He laughed gently.
"Remember, you've got to remove the PAK for your ability to revive from death to come into effect." Darth intoned as he slid off the couch and found his way around to Nick, who led Darth over to the basement steps. Nick picked his friend up gently, carrying him down before placing him back on the ground and heading over to the teleportation pods which would take them to their destination. "If you don't get it off in ten minutes, then your body will vanish and you end up back here and all the work you've done will be for naught. But remember...YOU CANNOT BE SEEN TAKING OFF THE PAK. Not unless you are absolutely sure you can defeat your opponent in less than 5 minutes. After that's passed, you'll have to start acting stupider and stupider and then eventually the game will be up because they will now you are still alive! And thus...not Irken. As long as they believe you to be some kind of Irken, you shall be alright. Even defectives have fought in Blood Sport. But humans...are not part of this game. " Darth went on.
"Right. Don't take PAK off unless absolutely necessary, don't take PAK off in front of cameras, if I DO take it off, beat opponent in five minutes." Nick reminded himself. "And they CAN'T know I'm human. At all." He added.
So he couldn't heal himself unless he was alone, somewhere private, and not in mortal danger.
Which was essentially never. He was going to a planet filled with natural threats while being hunted by an opponent who, for all he knew, could have eighteen tentacle/head-things that ate people alive and stuck out of his head. He'd need to be clever…resourceful…tricky.
"Remember, this is about trying to change Blood Sport from within. You must try and make those watching truly SEE."
"I know." Nick spoke softly. "I have to do this. If I can get just ONE person to change…if I can get just ONE person to understand the cruelty behind Blood Sport and why it has to end…I'll do it. I don't have to change the whole Empire…one bit at a time, that's all." Nick insisted.
"Our friends will meet us there." Darth informed Nick as he headed over to the side of the basement, making the usual trip to the teleportation pod. His clawed fingers found the access pad and he felt the Braille beneath, entering the needed destination coordinates…
…
…
…
…they arrived in time to see (okay, Darth didn't SEE so much as HEAR) an argument between two Irkens. Both around four feet tall, one a female with reddish/brown eyes, the other a male with eyes that were icy blue, and BOTH were furious and trying to push back the other. A third Irken who seemed young looked up at them in fear, clinging tightly to the ground as if afraid one of them would yank him up. He had yellow/orange eyes and looked like an ordinary service drone. Why a guard and scientist would be fighting over him Nick did not know.
Darth, however, did. He scanned the minds of the two fighting Irkens and quickly related to Nick what was going on. Nick, who had not been sure what the two Irkens were blabbering about, went "ugh" and rolled his eyes.
It was a "Logical versus Magical" debate and he hated it. HATED it. He folded his arms as he looked the angry Irkens over. He wondered why the crowds of Irkens milling about the Space Station didn't speak up or try to stop this…were they so apathetic?
The thing was, Magic was a force. A real force. And for time untold it had governed the galaxy. The problem was apparently that people had begun to question how things worked, to ask "Why", and that had introduced LOGIC to the galaxy. Logic had, from what the tales told, destroyed Magic on Earth, ruined it. Furthermore it sought to destroy other worlds in a very facist-like manner by killing anybody that disagreed with its teachings. If you were not enlightened…you died.
Not that Magic was completely blameless either. In its attempts to beat back logic, countless innocents had perished in the fray. Furthermore, a great number of Magicals were very much ignorant about other species and ways of life. They were…well…hicks. Stubborn hicks. Stubborn hicks who tended to slaughter anybody remotely Logical if they got the chance. Neither side, Nick felt, truly got the picture.
There was nothing wrong with trying to understand how things worked. But there would always, ALWAYS be things that were beyond understanding. They simply…were. And they were beautiful because of that. You had to be open-minded, but also tolerant and accepting as possible, that was Nick's take on the Logic v. Magic debate. What he hated was when he saw people fighting over those who had both Logical AND Magical traits, as the child obviously did.
"He's going to be MY pupil! Only I can nurture him with the power to snuff out "that light" forever!"
"He's MY pupil! I'm the one who will help him keep "that flame" burning forevermore!"
"Should I do something? Send them to their Black Bug Room?" Darth inquired.
"No." Nick said. "I'll get this."
He jumped through the air and the Irkens looked up. Seeing him barrel towards them from above, they jumped back and were surprised when he landed not on his feet, but his hands…
His feet kicked out. BAM! Both of them were knocked through the air and they hit the wall of the Space Station as the crowds now noticed what was going on and turned their heads. Nick reached down, helping the little Irken youngling up.
"You alright?" He asked gently. "What's going on?"
"Para wants me to go with him. Giz wants me to go with HIM."
"And what do YOU want?"
"I wanna go somewhere far away from here where nobody will tell me what to do, but I don't have any…any way to get off this station. I'm broke. They said they'd pay for transportation if I went with them, so…" The young Irken shrugged.
Nick placed a bag of monies in the Irken's hand from the pouch around his waist. Eyes widening, the young Irken smiled happily and hugged Nick before running off. Nick stood up and looked at the other Irkens who glared angrily at him.
"I just lost a convert!" The first hissed at him. She looked irritated.
"Don't tell me you side with those who would eliminate all that is beautiful from our galaxy." The second spoke up.
"This isn't about Magical, Logical or anything like that. If you had been Vortian…" He spoke up to the female. "And HE the only Irken, I would have still kicked you both away. It's not about race or class, it's about something the Creator himself has to answer and adhere to."
"Which is?" The second Irken remarked, looking amused.
"Right and wrong." Nick snapped. "When did Irkens start getting bigger than themselves?" He wondered out loud, and with that walked off with Darth following behind, leaving the two Irkens to rant at each other. The crowd divided up and allowed him to approach what he was trying to reach…a teleportation capsule that would take him down to the planet he would have to begin fighting upon. There stood the grinning-faced Irken who had first informed Nick of Blood Sport.
"Hello Trikivii." Darth intoned, nodding his head, his balled antennae bouncing slightly as he did so.
The blue-eyed Trik smiled back. "Darithil, Darth, good to see you came along. The others will be along soon enough when they hear about how you did in the first round." He added cheerfully. "Now you've got your weapons installed into your PAK?" He asked.
Nick nodded, resting his clawed hands on his sides. He did not tell Trik how MANY weapons were installed into his PAK, nor that he wasn't totally sure how to get them all OUT. The basics he knew…the laser cutter, the standard guns and rifle, and of course, the spider legs. Everything else, not so much…he'd have to learn on the fly.
"Now you're allowed an item of that size to contain other…goodies." Trik spoke up, pointing at Nick's belt. "Whatcha got in there besides ammo, I wonder?" He mused, a non-existent eyebrow raised high.
"You'll all see, won't you?" Nick laughed.
"Right, right." Trik nodded. "Remember…not everyone in Blood Sport has…decency…the way you do." His tone now become less jovial and more solemn. "Many will be downright sick. Try not to feel bad for killing them."
"I know the difference. When one stops being a person, one becomes a thing." Nick remarked in a slightly enigmatic tone. There was utter seriousness lingering in his voice and he was speaking more softly than he usually did, with vague sorrow.
"You know how Blood Sport works." Trik remarked. "You're not stupid. It's kill or be killed." He nodded. "I know you'll do well because you know how to do this right."
"It's not about doing well. It's about what or who I can change." Nick intoned. "If I can make them see…truly understand that the Blood Sport has to be stopped…"
Darth patted Nick on the back, closing his blind eyes. "You will do fine. I wish you the greatest of luck."
Nick nodded and held Darth's hand, sending warmth through to the blind Irken's body. With a smile, he stepped into the pod, entering Blood Sport just as Dante descended to Hell…
And so it begins again. Review!
She waited a while to get rid of Erin...waited longer to try to get rid of me...when Zim realized what she'd done to Erin and was going to do to me he sent me in the past to try and make things right.