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Macen wondered if the Romans knew what they were getting into. Despite a lack of formal training with edged weapons, Daggit's enhanced reflexes and strength would make him utterly devastating in the gladiatorial pit. Dracas' people still routinely settled disputes with their blade/picks. The man had been a knife fighter since adolescence.
Macen himself was no piker when it came to swordplay. Though little known in the Federation, El-Aurians routinely practised with a sword-like instrument. It was a neural rod, meant for stunning an opponent. It was quite a popular sport on El-Auria before its assimilation.
Combining elements similar to fencing and Zen swordplay, Farish would have been easily learned by an enthusiast of either technique. Macen himself had been an apt pupil with the Fari, but he had fared poorly with the Farii. Essentially a charged quarterstaff, Macen had stunned himself as often his opponent. He hadn't handled either in nearly ninety years but muscle memory took a long time to fade. He had little doubt he would acquit himself nicely with the traditional Roman shortsword.
Macen could only foresee Daggit or T'Kir being deadlier with a blade. Grace's inhuman reflexes would give her a tremendous advantage but her willingness to plunge her blade into another being's flesh remained untested. The others, Macen included, had already been tested and tried many times. Although Macen loathed the taking of life, he wouldn't shrink from it either. In his line of work, it was necessary far more often than not.
One bright note was that he was about to be reunited with Daggit and Dracas while hopefully not T'Kir. The guards' reference to rejoining his friends undoubtedly referred to the Special Ops expert and the engineer. Macen had an intuitive feeling T'Kir was still loose and affecting their release. He also had a gut level hunch he wouldn't like the arrangements of said release. Macen doubted even T'Kir could free them on her own. This meant she'd have to enlist allies.
The only enticement she had to offer was the team's superior technical skills. Any enemy of Rome would gladly jump at the chance to equalise Rome's technological superiority. The same superiority achieved through accidental and intentional alien intervention. Whoever elected to accept T'Kir's offer would have access to a knowledge base far more advanced than the assimilated Beagle crew and the wreckage of their craft.
The strange alien with Star Admiral Alaric would prove the ultimate key to success in defying Rome. What kind of technology transfers had these mysterious aliens granted Nova Roma? What kind of tech base were the aliens coming from? What were their ultimate plans for this beleaguered world?
It was these kinds of questions that nagged at Macen as he followed the guards to the Gladiators' Armoury. Once inside, the guards spread out while the armourer kitted Macen out. A trip to the dressing room revealed Daggit and Dracas had already been here. Their clothes lay neatly tucked and folded on the bench seat.
Macen removed his clothes and donned the traditional Gladiator's garb: a grey tunic and pants. Exiting the dressing room, Macen was swiftly measured by the armourer. He was given a traditional leather breastplate and finger-less gloves. He declined the offered helmet but accepted the shortsword, which he immediately began sharpening. Once done, he followed the lead guard towards the Armoury's other exit.
"Go in peace, and die with honour." the guard intoned sombrely, placing a closed fist on her chest.
"Strength and honour." Macen replied gravely, surprising the guard.
Macen walked up the small ramp that led to the arena. Kirk, Spock and McCoy had described the Nova Romans' arena as a set with cameras all around it. This had dramatically changed over the last century. The new arena played to the live spectators as much as the broadcast audience. Roughly half the size of the Coliseum on Earth, it still had seating capacity for twenty thousand rabid fans.
And rabid they definitely were. The auditorium was less than half-filled but the noise inside was deafening. Fans held placards decrying the "alien scourge". Ironic, since the commander of the Praetorian Guard was himself (herself?) an alien. Macen spotted two armoured figures standing silently on the field, taking in the sights.
Macen walked over and Daggit gave a mock salute, "Glad to see you alive, sir."
"Same here Rab." Macen turned toward Dracas, "Are you all right Chief?"
Dracas gave him a wry smile, "I wish I could say, 'never better' but I can think of friendlier moments."
"They do seem eager don't they?" Macen mused, "I suggest we don't give them the satisfaction they want. To victory!"
Macen raised his sword in the air, as did Dracas. Daggit had opted for a trident with a dagger for his coup de gras weapon. The crowd cheered wildly at the sight of the aliens waving their weapons about. Most of the Federation prisoners had dropped their weapons at the first sight of their opponents and had been subsequently slaughtered. They detected a different sort of animal in the ring now.
"Whatever they throw at us, no mercy and no surrender. Understood?" Macen's tone was fierce as the message.
Three men emerged from the Gladiator's Armoury. All three were armoured and helmeted. Two swords and a mace made up their weaponry. They slowly approached the spot where the SID team members stood waiting.
The three gladiators warily sized up the team, their grips tightening on their weapons.
"Let's take them now!" Dracas hissed.
"No." Macen's voice restrained him as effectively as a limb; "The game hasn't started yet. See the men and women in the stands sporting phase rifles? They'll kill us where we stand if we don't adhere to the rules."
"Which are?" Daggit whispered.
"Fight against a single combatant unless in a team event, do not assist your fellow gladiators and do not attack the crowd." Macen explained.
"How do you know any of this?" Dracas asked in exasperation.
"Kirk made some fairly thorough notes about the arena and its codes of conduct." Macen replied, "I brushed up on my way here just in case."
"Could've warned me." Dracas muttered brusquely.
Privately, Macen wondered why it was taking so long to begin. When he saw the young figure surrounded by Praetorians and the hulking alien from his interrogation. Alaric followed along, as well as a female servant that seemed to be sporting the biggest freckles Macen had ever...
"Isn't that..?" Daggit hissed.
Macen slowly nodded, "Lisea Danan. Now we know where she ended up."
"Yeah, but how hard did she have to try?" Dracas mumbled.
"Stow it Chief." Macen warned in a growl, "Or I'll do it for you. Danan's no traitor."
"Didn't she dump you?" Dracas asked, Macen nodded, "So why are you defending her?"
"Because I know her." was all Macen said.
Trumpets blared and the young noble, presumably the Emperor of this backwater world, rose, "Welcome once again to the Imperial Arena. I wish you happiness and health as we watch virtue tested once more."
With that said, Romulus sat down motioned for Danan to attend him. She was slow off the mark because the sight of Macen and his fellows on the field transfixed her. A Praetorian delivered a sharp nudge to her ribs, urging her on. She stood alongside the young Emperor while he ate fruit from a basket she held. She felt an overwhelming sense of guilt.
Macen wouldn't be here if our ship hadn't been captured, she thought. I don't see T'Kir down there. He wouldn't travel without her, so she must be running around loose. I wonder if there's any way I can contact her?
The Arena's Master of Ceremonies stepped up to the mike Romulus had just abandoned, "Lords and Ladies throughout the Empire, tonight we bring you a true spectacle. No more weaklings or striplings, this evening we bring you the true scourge of the heavens. Alien infiltrators who by appearances alone cannot be separated from the average citizen. We bring you these otherworldly killers so that you can share his Imperial Majesty's pleasure in seeing them brought to justice. Our local champions will face a match that has been unheralded since the demon Kirk and his Starfleet devils fought our valiant warriors and lost. Tonight we fight not only for sport but for the Empire itself. Are you ready?"
The crowd answered with a deafening roar, "I thought as much." the MC smiled smugly, "Death and Honour gentlemen, the match has begun."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the three gladiators attacked the team. The Mace came at Daggit, whirling his bludgeoning tool through the air. Unexpectedly, Daggit found the trident wrest from his grasp on the very first blow. He leapt back into a crouch and pulled the dagger from his boot.
Dracas was assaulted by the second of the two shortsword wielders. The other man's stabbing thrusts were easy to deflect but tiring all the same. Retreating, he tripped over Daggit's lost trident and went down hard. No sooner had the dust lifted then the swordsman was upon him.
Macen engaged in a game of dodge, thrust, and parry with his foe. Both combatants were holding back, waiting for the other to reveal a weakness. Macen obliged by lowering his sword slightly and leaning off to the side. Sensing his opponent's over-balanced position, the gladiator attacked with all his might.
Macen deftly returned his full weight to both feet and rolled off to the side as the opposing gladiator over-extended his thrust. Macen carried his roll to completion and swung the sword in his grip. Having the blade face downward from its previous position, he jabbed it into the gladiators exposed ribs. Macen slowly turned to face his enemy and snatched the man's sword from his grasp. Macen withdrew his own sword from the man's gullet then slashed both blades across his throat.
The crowd gasped as Macen calmly turned to watch Dracas' struggled. The Chief had managed to place a double-legged kick into his opponent's chest, propelling him backward. While separated from his enemy, the gladiator watched Macen dispatch his partner. With a guttural cry of rage, the gladiator charged Macen. Macen flipped both swords in his hand, held them by the blades, and then threw them.
The two swords struck the rushing gladiator in the chest before the guards could fire a single particle blast. He slowly sank to his knees, then keeled over. Dracas rose and dusted himself off while Macen pulled his two swords from the other man's chest. Dracas shook his head as he approached.
"I thought you said we couldn't help one another."
"We can't." Macen replied grimly as he wiped sweat from his brow, "He attacked me. That changes everything."
"Whatever." Dracas dismissed the notion, then waved towards the crowd, "We've certainly garnered their attention."
"Yup." Macen agreed distractedly, the Mace was still chasing Daggit around, "Imagine of we were a trio of Klingons or Andorians."
"Ye gods, man." Dracas chuckled, "We'd be the star attractions for years."
. "Maybe decades." Macen amended.
"So, do you think we should help out Rab?" Dracas asked with a touch of nervousness.
"Despite your feelings or fears, Daggit's a big boy. He slogged his way through both the Tarsian and Dominion wars." Macen reminded him, "After facing off with Jem'Hadar, I think he can handle a mere human gladiator."
Dracas reacted with stony silence, then spoke in a hushed voice, "How long have you known?"
"Since before the Andergani captured you." Macen shrugged, "Rab doesn't have a clue. That part is up to you."
Dracas pondered that for a moment before replying, "Is he open to the idea?"
Macen chuckled, "Who knows? He's open to a lot but the tricky part is getting passed his guilt over what he is. That'll be the major hurtle if you decide to pursue things. Even if you don't, you'll find we'll protect you from your home government. So feel free to pursue whomever you will. You deserve happiness in your life, not fear."
Dracas was stunned, "I don't know what to say."
"Then don't say anything." Macen prompted.
Dracas nodded in silence and watched his friend dispatch the third gladiator.
Daggit rolled out of the way as the mace descended. He slashed outward with the knife and nicked his opponent's calf. Daggit could have severed the tendon but chose not to. If he ended this match too swiftly then his full abilities would be revealed. But as he rose out of his crouch, he watched Macen slay two gladiators in under a minute.
That surprised him. He'd have never guessed Macen for having any skill with a blade. Yet his commander took to the sword like a natural. He hadn't even tried.
The mace was swinging again. This time in an arc designed to catch him under the jaw. Daggit spun away, still not engaging. This was repeated once, then twice, and a third time before the crowd grew restless.
"Kill him!" an audience member shouted and it spread through the seats like a mantra.
Now came the swing and the miss. Daggit stepped in and stabbed his opponent through the heart. He recognised the death rattle in the gladiator's lungs as the man fell to his knees. Daggit lifted the mace off of him and then smashed it down upon the gladiator's helmet. The bone jarring impact hastened his death.
Daggit jogged over to where Macen and Dracas stood waiting. Judging from Dracas' face they'd been having an interesting discussion but now they'd both fallen silent. Dracas seemed introspective while Macen… Macen studied the crowd and the Emperor's Box with an expectant look.
"Destroy them!" Ezexial hissed into Romulus' ear. "My troops can cut them down where they stand."
"Don't be so hasty." Alaric cautioned, "By law and custom, they've won the match and the right to live another day."
"Alaric is right." Aurelius mused with a smirk, "They've shown courage, and that must be rewarded. They will face the games again tomorrow. Perhaps their fortunes will turn."
Danan's shoulders sagged ever so subtly with relief. Neither Romulus nor Ezexial noticed but the corner of Alaric mouth quirked upward in a lopsided grin. She cursed inwardly. Letting her emotions, any emotions, show before the enemy was a stupid mistake. What if they were to use her against Brin? That chivalrous idiot would probably accede to the Roman demands.
Romulus rose and approached the mike, "Citizens, we have new champions. Join us tomorrow when they again face the rigours of the arena in a new test of stamina and courage!"
What 'test of stamina'?" Dracas whispered.
"How long does it take them to die." Macen replied clinically, "We'll face a new match every day until all of us are dead."
"Wonderful." Dracas muttered bitterly.
The arena guards approached them while the Emperor and his entourage rose and left. Macen spared one last glance towards Danan. Her face was rigid and set. Seeing Alaric grinning conspiratorially down at him, Macen had a good idea why Lisea was upset. Despite his misgivings, Macen automatically trusted Alaric and knew that the Admiral's deductions wouldn't be used against him or the team.
"Status?" Riker asked.
From Ops, Lucarno double checked his displays, "All systems green."
"Engine room?" Riker asked via intercom.
"Ready, sir." Thool answered.
"Grace," Riker intoned gravely, "take us out."
"Course heading once we're free to navigate?" Grace asked with a pang of guilt over earlier.
"The Sigma Iotia system." Riker explained, "We're going shopping for allies."
"The Iotians?" Grace asked.
"Yes." Riker replied smugly.
"Who the hell are the Iotians?" Radil demanded.
"A race of gangsters and thugs." Riker replied glibly, "You'll love them."
"Thanks." Radil replied caustically.
Back in the cell ward, Macen was now placed in a common cell with Daggit and Dracas. The cell contained four bunk beds, which meant there was room for five more prisoners. No one seriously expected any native gladiators to be placed with the "alien scourge" and no one held out any hopes for there being any more alien prisoners.
"So now what?" Dracas asked once the guards had departed.
"We survive until we can escape." Macen replied matter-of-factly.
"And if we can't?"
"Survive or escape?" Macen inquired, "Because one of those questions has a fairly obvious answer."
"Escape of course!" Dracas nearly exploded.
"We may have friends out there." Macen hinted without saying names, "Who have a vested interest in our release. They'll work on our behalf."
"How can you be certain?" Daggit asked quietly.
"Because I feel it." Macen tried to explain, "I'd know if we were alone."
"Okay then." Daggit agreed, "We have friends out there."
"You're both delusional." Dracas accused as he lay down on his chosen bunk.
In the Security Office, Ezexial replayed their conversation. He noted that Macen never mentioned who his friends were. He undoubtedly suspected monitoring devices. Ezexial's job would be a lot simpler if the Romans recognised who their masters were.
They will soon enough, Ezexial reminded himself, then they'll march to my orders.
The Eclipse was challenged by a Constitution-class analogue upon reaching the Iotian border. Although the ship design predated the starship refits Starfleet underwent during the 2270's, the ship displayed the same power signatures as a post-refit Constitution-class. When the viewer came to life, however, it displayed a bridge setting from the 2260's.
The starship commander also wore the gold, command department tunic/miniskirt popular during that period; "This is Captain Jamie Kirk of the Iotian Starfleet vessel, ISS Enterprise. Place state your identity and purpose in our sector."
Riker straightened his tunic before replying to the blue-eyed blonde, "I'm Captain Thomas Riker of the Federation privateer SS Eclipse. We've travelled to Iotia to discuss a business opportunity with your leaders."
When the original Captain Kirk of the USS Enterprise came across Iotia, he'd found a world modelled after a book left behind by previous Earth explorers. That book, Gangsters of the Roaring 20's, had become The Book and every facet of Iotian life revolved around its contents. Kirk had eventually secured visitation rights for Federation sociologists by unifying the planet's various gangsters into a world government. The Federation visits were ostensibly to collect their "piece of the action", a percentage of the gross planetary product dedicated for Iotian education and reformation. What no one had counted on was Dr. McCoy leaving his communicator behind.
This act allowed the Iotians to dissect the transtator and build a subspace communications array. Tapping into the Federation relay left behind for the use of the Federation observers, "Overbosses", the Iotians were able to peruse Federation records and technical data. Discovering that the Federation Charter protected their previous lifestyles, if not actually promoted by it, they happily translated their mobster mentality into spacefaring terms. Using the pirated technical details, they built their first warp engine a mere fifty years after Kirk's visit and the Federation's introduction to the planet.
As a warp culture, they were no longer bound by the restrictions of the Prime Directive. They were also not eligible for Federation membership. Making another technological leap, the Iotians launched three NX-class analogues. These ships began charging "protection" money to hapless traders plying the local spacelanes. Next, they travelled to nearby, and less advanced, worlds and began charging them for defence contracts whereby the fledgling Iotian Starfleet would defend their worlds from outside attack.
Fifty years after their launch into space, the Iotians now had fourteen client worlds and had tripled their borders. The Iotian Starfleet currently consisted of six Constitution-class analogues, three NX-class ships, twelve Mercury-class cruisers and six Daedalus-class recreations. Although a century behind Federation standards, these ships demonstrated a two hundred year technological leap that occurred in a mere fifty years. Once the Iotian taps into the Federation relay were discovered, the relay was cut off from the Federation datanets but the damage had already been done. The Iotians had been loosed upon an unsuspecting Quadrant.
Riker had looked all of this up before deciding the Iotians were the perfect candidates for helping taking down the Nova Romans. They weren't members of the Federation, and therefore not subject to the quarantine surrounding the 492 system. They were also adventuristic and hard to intimidate. And best of all, they could be bought with little fear of betrayal.
"I'm here offering a large contract with substantial profit potential." Riker added.
"Follow my ship." Kirk instructed dubiously, "We'll discuss your offer at Starfleet HQ."
"Lead and I'll follow." Riker replied jovially, if only all my 'allies' looked that good.
.