If I say I don't need anyone
I can say these things to you
'Cause
I can turn on any one
Just like I turned on you . . .

- "Rocket Queen" by Guns N' Roses

Chapter 10
Diva's First Blood

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to DreadZone!" Dallas's voice came up as the pilot episode began. "We're broadcasting live on galaxy-wide high-definition holovision from the DreadZone Station's Battle Dome! I, Dallas Fairfields, will be your announcer tonight along with my lovely, multi-talented boss and general manager of DreadZone, Ms. Cypress Vox!" The camera pulled back a bit to show Cypress sitting next to Dallas, although it was painfully obvious that Cypress was sitting on whatever passed for a 'floor' in the announcer's booth to cut her height in comparison to Dallas.

From the smile on Cypress's face, you could tell she wasn't letting something as silly as her seat bother her. "We've scoured the galaxy over to find the most vile, despicable, and outright malevolent criminals, just so we could force them into battles and death-defying challenges to speed up their executions! But of course there's a twist; among them we have the rejects, black sheep, and even a few heroes of the galaxy, willing to face off with and against these cutthroats to see justice extracted to its fullest extent, and you get to see it all!"

"Which of course leads to the million-bolt question, Cypress." Dallas cooed, leaning over towards his boss. "Just how do you pit the criminally insane against these clearly innocent volunteers, and still expect the right contenders to rise to the top of DreadZone without the possibility of these criminals doing what they do best and cheating their way to the top?"

"Simple: the cheating's built in!" Cypress smirked. "But seriously, folks, if you'll take a look down at the Battle Dome below us, you'll notice a meticulous little setup that looks like a racecourse. And of course, it is! We've taken the liberty of tossing in a few 'surprises' on this death course that should benefit each and every one of our competitors if they're willing to look for them, and we've made it very clear, since this will be the first time our contestants will finally see each other's faces — honor means absolutely nothing if it gets you killed!"

"You've got that right, Cypress! Hey, it looks like they're about to start loading the gates for the big race!" Dallas chimed in, pointing to the race gates, some of which looked larger than others. "Unfortunately, it'll be a little bit of time before the Exterminator Race begins; since this event will determine the top four contestants who get the better armor, more freedom on DreadZone Station, and other assorted perks, we couldn't just leave it all up to this event! The Exterminator Tournament's been going on since early this morning, and we have a ton of highlights to show you as we load up the racegates!"

"Indeed, Dallas! First up for the 'Dead Men Walking', this is the man who made the 'Marble Corpses of Metropolis'! He's tough, he's sexy, Dallas even mistook him for a woman in the first round . . . say hello to 'Geisha'!" A blue-tinted camera panned down to show a red figure dressed in an ornate purple kimono, fluttering fans hiding his face, making his way towards the first gate. The writhing 'hairs' in his bun begin to blink, waiting for the first strike. Suddenly, the fans whipped back, revealing a scaly, hideous face as he snarled into the lens, revealing yellowed eyes and a forked tongue.

"WOAH! Glad we polarized those camera lenses, eh, Cypress?" Dallas grinned, elbowing his partner to little effect.

Cypress rolled her eyes, but the majority of the roll was cut off to show a clip from one of Geisha's earlier matches in the day, involving a collection of swarmers. "Indeed, Dallas. To those unfamiliar with the Kendril race, mere eye contract from a Kendril is capable of paralyzing organic creatures instantly; in the eyes of a trained assassin, the Kendril glare can even turn its victims to stone!" The clip finished with each and every one of the swarmers becoming statues, with even one swarmer cracking in two as it hit the ground, caught in mid-leap. "Geisha sealed up first place in the Carnage Round by freezing each and every one of our ankle-biters in a mere fifty-one seconds!"

"I still couldn't believe it!" Dallas exclaimed "Er . . . he's not about to hit us with that gaze, is he?"

"Of course not. The paralytic abilities of a Kendril are linked to special pheromones; even standing five feet away from a Kendril drastically reduces its power. The polarized lenses are merely our way of saying 'better safe than sorry' when it comes to our viewers at home." Cypress replied as 'Geisha' went to his gate, the doors closing on him.

As the gates closed shut, the next van arrived, its door opening with a loud 'CLANG' as it hit the arena floor. Stepping out of the van was a superbly suave Greenie, antenna sticking out of his coif as he looked over his designer shades at the audience. On his face was an unmistakable grin, and Dallas was just staring out at him, watching wordlessly.

"Dallas . . . ?" Cypress asked, shaking him by the shoulder. "Dallas, snap out of it!"

"But he's just so . . . so . . . handsome! Everything about him is a work of art!"

Cypress raised an eyebrow. "Including the death sentence for his 'hostile takeover' of Gadgetron a decade ago, where he proceeded to blow out the top three executive's heads with a forty-four at point-blank range?"

"They probably needed the change in leadership anyway."

"They had to pull back their expansion into the Bogon galaxy over this!" Cypress rebuked him. "I don't care how much you think you're about to fall in love with your reflection over there, London's someone who damned well deserves to get himself killed here!"

Dallas just snorted as he continued to watch London walk into his gate, not letting the electrified atmosphere of the Battle Dome phase him one bit. It seemed almost fitting that as London's gate closed on him, the door from the next transport opened. An albino Anyr trotted forth, his large tufts shaking with each step as he looked out among the crowd, which seemed strangely silent for him.

"Ouch, you know what they say about the poofy ones — first against the wall!" Dallas spoke, despite the lack of feedback the crowd was giving him. "What? Is there something in my teeth?"

"No, no; it's just hard to crack a joke about someone who tampered with the life-support systems on a space station. Especially giving our current location as is."

Dallas flinched. "Is he going to be able to-?"

"No, no, of course not. He's not about to be able to get his hands on the control levels anytime soon." Cypress kept her eyes on the poofy predator as he marched for his gate. "Besides that, old 'White Noise' there has been sitting on a life-without-parole sentence for the past thirty years now, since Quartu completely outlawed capital punishment centuries ago. His technical skills are obsolete."

As the gate closed on White Noise, the field trembled just a bit as four more feet hit the arena floor. Adari'a looked up, clad only in athletic tape and a black shirt, before letting loose a terrifying roar to the heavens.

Dallas stood up. "Woah Nelly! Get a load of the poof on that girl!"

"The centaur tribes of Aridia are well known for their stocky builds and savage personalities. There's no 'poof' to it." Cypress notes. "Adari'a happens to be one of our volunteers for this competition, and you can see it in her gait that unlike some of the others, she seems to genuinely like it here so far. Her second-place finish in the Speed Round can attest to that."

Adari'a took a quick trot around the starting field, picking up support from the crowd with each step, before finally veering for her gate. A nearby camera managed to pick up White Noise hissing at her and saying "Showoff!"

Adari'a growled at the Anyr, before looking up from her gate to see a slightly different trotter walk forward. She had a slim figure, complimented by eight spindly legs that supported her spidery build , with a qipao hiding the delineation between her hips as she walked, keeping a deliberate path.

"Well, well, if it isn't our own galactic assassin, 'Crosshairs' Charity!" Cypress cooed.

"Crosshairs certainly lived up to her nickname earlier, earning a perfect score, and the first-place finish, in our Accuracy Round challenge!" Dallas spoke as the screen cut to a replay of Charity's flawless performance with what appeared to be a customized sniper rifle. "If that Arander doesn't become an Exterminator tonight, she's sure going to give them a run for their money!"

The Arander woman smirked, flipping her braids behind her shoulders as she turned to slip inside her gate, moving with perfect, precise steps. She turned around in her gate as the doors closed on her, barely giving enough time for the next contestant to appear, not even waiting for the van to land before forcing the door open, flying out.

Cypress growled as she saw the angelic creature flying out of the transport van. "Damn it all! Don't these people have any respect for a schedule?"

Dallas shrugged. "These are criminals, after all, the majority of which are facing the death penalty . . . and you can't expect Aeris, the first Celeste in a hundred years to be convinced for spawning a suicide cult, to be any exception."

The screen cut away to show Aeris pumping his wings as he flew through the Speed Round, technically 'cheating' as he avoided all of the ground obstacles that everyone else had to deal with. The screen then returned to show Aeris sticking his landing, still holding out his red wings with yellow tips, the same colors as the body paint that covered his tanned skin. At first glance, Aeris did look like the sort of creature that ought to be worshipped, if not for the hideous scars through his right eye, betraying the facade of heavenly beauty.

Cypress cocked her head just slightly. "I hope someone has a plan to ground that man before he covers too much of it. I'd hate to think that he could just fly his way into becoming an Exterminator."

"Well, there's plenty of room in this arena for just about anything to happen, so you might get your wish yet!" Dallas spoke, keeping his eyes peeled as the next containment van pulled up to the arena floor, pulling out a ramp as a man made careful, tiny steps down it, resembling a wizened old monk, complete with robes and shaved head. "Although here comes our oldest competitor by far, but don't let that fool you! This man is a powerhouse of carnal evil! He's a vampire!"

"Oh, come on, I've seen worse perverts on rival networks." Cypress scoffed.

"No, I mean it, he's a vampire. See? Death sentence later commuted to life for knowingly infecting vampirism. They even call him 'Cain'!" Dallas pulled up a datapad, and Cypress blinked when she saw it.

It took her a few moments to look at the datapad, then back at Cain, and again at the datapad, before grabbing it out of Dallas's hands, full of disbelief. "I wasn't even aware that Vampirism was real . . ."

Cain slipped into his gate with an otherwordly step, and as he stepped inside, from another containment van a Cezan marched forth, the same one as was seen in Vox's interviews earlier. He looked unbearably stiff and overheated in the arena with his military outfit, and for every intent and purpose, he looked like he had just left boot camp.

"Ooo, look out, Cypress! Xanatos is here, and I know how you like a man in uniform!" Dallas chuckled.

Cypress smirked. "Now where did you get that idea? I just happen to like having a real soldier here as one of our volunteers." She watched as Xanatos pulled out a rapier, holding it forward before beginning to twirl it, showing off a few of his drills before turning towards his gate, a steely look on his face.

As the gate closed on Xanatos, Dallas leaned over, trying to 'whisper' into the headset. "Think he stands a chance?"

"Not a prayer." Cypress responded, watching as the next containment van opened, trotting out a scaly, hooved creature. His mane ran down his back, with antlers that would make any hunter weep in joy. "I'd say the same for Mr. 'Zodiac' here, but I know better than to bank against a traitor like him doing anything."

"He looks pretty!" Dallas perked up. "No one told me that Vidians looked like that!"

Cypress snarled. "Were you even paying attention during the first rounds?"

"But they look so different in the sunlight! Or what passes for sunlight here, at least . . . Zodiac is one of our few political prisoners, convicted of treason after he was found selling blueprints to what then became known as the 'Indigo Program' once the press got a hold of it. Speaking of indigo, I bet that boy's going to be looking pretty black and blue before we're done here, Cypress!"

"We'll see . . . although that fellow over there looks like the only color he comes in is gunmetal gray!" The cameras switched from their focus on Zodiac over to the large, wingless dragon-bot walking across the field. Unlike Crater, he seemed keenly focused, almost predatory.

We hear Cypress making a noise that almost sounded like she was trying to swoon. "Now, THAT, Dallas, is a dream to behold!"

"You do realize that 'Spyro' over there is here because he single-handedly blew up Obani's Cassiopeia moon, right?" Dallas noted, jarring Cypress out of her schoolgirl moment.

"Er . . . yeah, of course! I've just not seen much in the way of the more reptilian races represented here is all . . ." Cypress blushed. "He's a big one, though, isn't he?"

Dallas nodded as Spyro went straight for his gate. "Most tunnel-bots are. He's about the right size to take on Crater if he likes as well, actually!"

"That'll be good!" Cypress grinned, watching as another containment van pulled up. It dropped its door as a tall, blue-skinned human female walked out of it, dressed in a buff-gold outfit designed to distract and boots that went so high it was painfully clear that this woman picked her outfits solely on one criteria — because she could.

Dallas whistled, and it didn't take long for Cypress to turn her glare on him, getting a second response out of Dallas. "What? What!"

"Eh . . . go ahead. She's a chemical criminal anyway — I heard the last man she tried to seduce ended up poisoned." Cypress replied snidely. "Of course, it was a galactic appellate-court judge, proving that it always pays to do your research before you decide to off a suitor."

"Cypress! Are you actually condoning that woman's actions?"

"No, I'm saying that if you're going to do it anyway, you should at least do your research." Cypress rolled her eyes as the woman walked to her gate. "Of course, if she was actually a smart criminal, then Poison wouldn't be here, now would she?"

Dallas didn't have a good response to that as Poison walked to her gate, watching the barred doors close on her as another van approached the field. This time when it opened, however, the crowd response was positive and instantaneous.

"Oooh! Now there's a guy that's going to have everyone gunning for him no matter WHAT happens in this event!" Cypress winced, as Ace Hardlight walked onto the field, striking a classic pose.

The screen pulled away to a shot of Ace Hardlight's second-place finish in the Accuracy Round, and Dallas just whistled. "You got that right, Cypress! Ace Hardlight personally put at least three of our 'Dead Men Walking' behind bars, and when you're dealing with that many desperate people, you don't want to find out what they'll do to you!"

"Yeah . . . shame that looks don't really help in survival here." Cypress glanced down at him, smirking.

Dallas laughed. "What, are you nuts? At least pick someone who's likely not to get his head blown off in five episodes! You know . . . like me?"

"Don't even try it, Dallas."

"Hey, you can't blame a man for taking a swing at it, but apparently you CAN blame a robot for taking a wrong-way turn, as this construction-bot can tell you!" The field shook as the mantis-walker began to take its first few steps onto the field, scanning the arena as it walked forward.

The robot's head swung towards the gates, before looking back over the race course. "Initiating spoils algorithm . . . fuck the race . . . fuck the race . . ."

"Uh, oh . . ." Cypress blinked. "This could be bad. It looks like Crater's given up on her chances and is determined to take out anyone and everyone that might actually stand a shot."

Dallas almost squealed out in a pitch reserved for pious schoolgirls. "Excellent! That means Crater's likely to turn herself into an added obstacle!"

"That does increase the odds that we might not get the best Exterminators for the job, though . . ."

"Pffft. Crater's devastating, but she shouldn't stop any of our more decent competitors from making it through." Dallas remarked.

Crater went into her gate, but as she was taking a while to back herself into the gate, the next competitor leapt out of his containment van, twin grapples darting into the ground in front of him to stabilize his landing as he swung over, landing hard on his feet. The black Lombax retracted his grapple-cables back into his gauntlets as he stood up, walking wordlessly across the field.

"And here's our first-place Agility specialist! Slick here found his way into the "25-to-Life" club by organizing what narcotic specialists to this day call the most intricate hallucinogenic ring they've seen in-. BY THE GODDESS!" Cypress started, then shrieked as twin grapples attached themselves to the side of the announcer's booth, with Slick zooming by his gauntlets right towards them.

Slick pulled his gauntlet's back prematurely to give him an extra few inches of lift, causing Dallas to back up about two feet in his chair while Cypress fell backwards. Slick landed on the rail of the booth, purring softly. "Awww . . . did I scare the boss and her pet slug?"

"Get back down there, Slick, or your ears become the new trend in purses!" Cypress hissed, getting dangerously close to Slick's face with her own.

Slick chuckled, and then gave a wink. "Now now, boss, once I win this race and join your new line of Exterminators, there won't be a need for threats like that. And I do intend to win. See you at the finish line, Miss Vox!" With this, he planted a kiss on Cypress's cheek, before leaping off the booth, heading back down to the field and to the gate.

"The nerve of that man . . ." Cypress hissed, looking disgusted with herself, pantomiming wiping the kiss off as she kept her glare on Slick for all of his descent.

As it turned out, this part was accompanied by a split screen of Cypress in the Blue Room, fingers holding the cheek where Slick had kissed her. "Actually, that was quite exhilarating, but even back then there was a certain need to stay in character, after all . . ."

The crowd suddenly cheered as the last contestant came forth, the hem on her dress already showing considerable fraying as the second Lombax appeared, wearing clunky, standard-issue grind boots and a look on her face that made it extremely clear she wasn't taking any of this. Cypress leaned over the rail of the booth to get a better view. "And here she is, folks, our shocking leader in the Exterminator Tournament, with second-place finishes in both our Carnage and Agility rounds! She's a violinist with a violent temper, and easily the smallest creature here with that big of a bull's-eye on her back . . . ladies and gentlemen, Jigsaw Forte!"

Jigsaw pulled the violin off her back, raising it high to more cheers from the crowd, before returning it to its holster. Jigsaw adjusted the fingerless glove on her left hand as she walked across the field, and already there were hisses and starts coming from the others, including a cry of "Kill the rat!" growing from the other competitors at the gates.

Dallas whistled. "Hard to believe that little girl right there has a one-point advantage going into this event! Especially for a volunteer!"

Cypress nodded. "That 'little girl' is the only one of the lot who's placed in two different events, and she's thrown a big wrench into the Tournament as far as the first-place leads are concerned. All Jigsaw has to do to ensure her spot as an Exterminator is either to place in this race, or prevent at least one of the first-placers from doing so, and she's as good as in!"

"Ah, but you said it yourself, this race could work in almost anyone's favor — the way the scores are scattered, anyone who picked up first place in this event would ensure their status as Exterminator." Dallas noted, as Jigsaw walked into her gate, watching the doors pull themselves shut.

"Five points in this event would certainly secure almost any fate here, but past the win in this event, and the gap narrows considerably. Anyone looking to keep their dreams alive will be doing anything and hopefully everything they can to knock our current favorites to the way-."

- bing! - "Race to start in T minus 30 seconds" -

"Oh! Hush!" Cypress hissed.

The in-gate cameras picked up a shot of a tense Ace Hardlight waiting in his gate, just as Dallas spoke up. "Any favorites for the race? I've got my eyes on Zodiac!"

- "T minus 20 seconds" -

"Not now, please . . ." Cypress remarked.

"Oh, come on! It only counts before the race begins!"

"Fine! White Noise!" She hissed.

- "T minus 10 seconds . . . 9 . . . 8 . . . 7 . . ." -

The in-gate cameras switched over to Aeris, wings tight against his back, in the classic runner's position.

- "6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . ." -

Suddenly, an ear-piercing shriek of a note ripped through the field, causing several competitors to grab their heads, groaning in pain. Another switch of the in-gate camera revealed Jigsaw sheathing her violin almost instantly afterwards, a large grin on her face.

- "3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . ." -

In an instant, the gates flew open.

- "GO!" -