"Give your friend your blood and money."

- Arab proverb

THE 'PIT' WAS NOT LIKE THE MOVIES.

It was clean, with a hard white floor - the better to see the blood - with high walls. There was no scaling to escape.

There was no real crowd, the vast majority watched on screens from the comfort of their rooms or ships where they could bay for blood at their leisure. Several, maybe fifty at the most - and Crichton assumed they were the high rollers, the ones who paid much for a ring-side seat - watched from above, behind a duraplast window that ringed the pit.

Crichton had been stripped down to pretty much nothing, longcoat gone and weapon-less he'd been shoved unceremoniously into the pit. The two dozen or so above him yelled, pounded and hooted when he'd been announced. The lights that indicated audience attendance brightened significantly.

For my reputation 'not being all that', they sure seem to know who I am, he mused grimly. He glanced up and saw Mhal, that wide mouth grinning with satisfaction, no doubt becoming extravagantly rich from this show.

He saw Nexus next to the arena master and was faintly gratified to see no real tension in her, though she must be feeling some, the bruise on her face darkened, one of her eyes slitted as it had swelled. Crichton clenched his fist and the overlay in his eye lit up, scanning what it could. Door on either side, seamless with the wall, a drain in the middle and Shiv would appear opposite him.

A scattering field over this place too, naturally, pipelines out for the patrons.

Crichton rolled his shoulders and waited.

Choose death, he told himself, and endure.

It was starting to become a habit.

IN HIS BOX, MHAL WATCHED THE PIRATE with a tinge of trepidation. He'd not said a word when he'd been stripped, nor when he'd been told he would face Shindal weaponless, his manner calm and assured. Yet every path he could see saw Crichton defeated and soundly, bloody on the floor.

"Not very fair," Nexus remarked. Mhal grimaced at her. Her voice was likewise calm and sure.

"Be silent," he ordered. He had no guards in the box, so confident was he usually. He'd had the female here fitted with a shock collar. She would do nothing overt.

"Poor little thing," Nexus mocked, eyes watching Crichton below, "you can see all the ways it'll go and you're still frightened." She clucked her tongue. "…and your day started off so well."

"Be silent!" He hissed, discomfited by her confidence in the male below.

"Crichton has a saying," she continued unperturbed, "that one's reach should never exceed one's grasp." She smiled down at the pirate. Only in certain instances, she knew. "This is going to end so badly."

"Another word and you shall join him in the pit!" He thrust the collar's control before her eyes. She was unimpressed.

Nexus shrugged and crossed her arms. Mhal felt his predictive powers waver under his doubts and he shook himself and concentrated.

Again, all possibilities showed Crichton bloody and beaten.

"Begin!" he called, as yet unsettled by the woman's certainty. He would break her of that, he vowed, though his attention was soon diverted as his Shindal stepped into the pit. He could hear the roars of approval over his feeds. It would be sufficiently bloody, sufficiently entertaining, for he had ordered her to toy with the pirate, to kill him slow.

Let us see how your confidence fares, he thought snidely, glancing at Nexus, once this is done.

CRICHTON WATCHED SHIV APPEAR, still in her slitted and revealing attire, a long blade in one hand, her metal - usually a cuirass now fashioned into a loincloth, hanging down off her hips. Her pitiless orange eyes regarded him with no more emotion than one would have were they to squash a troublesome insect.

Yeah, I can definitely see it, he thought, being on this side of it, this lady is as intimidating as hell.

His overlay highlighted her and he marvelled at her control; no twitches, no subtle movements to give away which way she might move. Perfect stillness - until she moved.

He was under no illusions.

When Shiv moved to make the kill, he would die.

That was still the future. He'd return her to herself one way or another and if necessary, maybe she'd at least avenge him, if nothing else.

He doubted anything he'd say would sway her.

He did it anyway.

"Y'know," he said calmly, "I said once you'd look damn fine in anything. That doesn't suit you."

He saw Shiv's head turn minutely as he spoke. She was slowly circling him.

Play with me a bit. Right.

Shiv turned her head slightly again, as if assessing him then blinked. Something misted across those orange eyes and vanished as quickly as it came.

"You and me… we were gonna get married and wreck shit, remember?"

Another blink and she slowed minutely. Shiv circled in closer, all dangerous grace and damn him if even in this dire moment, he didn't admire the hell out of her.

She was beautiful.

"I sent you on vacation," he told her, "this isn't it."

Shiv moved and he only barely managed to evade it thanks to his overlay and his own endless training, though a slice of fire burned across his chest. The roars above grew louder.

There it was, his overlay outlined it in a faint red, there on the back of her neck, the damn control node.

Again the lightning struck and this time she scored along his abdomen and again only the overlay permitted him to dodge back, though this cut went deeper.

Definitely told her to play with me, he thought grimly, hot blood dripping down his stomach. Not enough to slow him, just enough to hurt him, just enough for the bloodlust of the assholes above. The next strike would cripple him, he knew, hamstring him or sever the tendons in an arm, spear one of his eyes, lop off one of his hands.

He had no choices here, he knew that and he made no excuses. He wasn't playing to win. In a straight fight with this lady, there was no way he could.

Again she flashed, again he bled, barely dodging and then only because she had been commanded to allow him to do so. Every slash would slow him, make him crawl until she finished him off.

Crichton had no intention of dying for anyone's entertainment. He felt perversely alive, facing this deadly ally - his right arm for so long, his trusted and respected comrade through several kinds of hell… Nexus had been right, in a way, for he could see how those other Crichtons - the smart ones, fell for this astonishing woman. He felt a real love surge in him for her, thick with the determination to free her from this debasement, no matter what it cost him.

"An elegant way to go, Shiv."

He went still and he knew she saw him do it and he put his arms up, out, the crucified man, his eyes fixed unerringly on her.

This would be one of those moments, he knew, one of the supreme moments of his life where he could see death coming as plain as light bouncing around a room.

Shiv was an instrument of superb lethality, beautifully balanced - superb is such a correct word for her - and he had only one slim chance to free her of this circumstance. He'd sworn it, to himself, to her, to the universe.

A Great Calm washed over him, that instant of perfect clarity Shiv had once told him about - the 'Moment that contained all time in it' she'd called it - and before him yawned the precipice of death. It contained nothing new, so he paid it no mind.

He saw her move. He saw the dignity and exact line of her movements - the absolute precision of professionalism even under compulsion and so encompassing the Great Calm on him, he had all the time necessary to admire her, the lithe power of her limbs, the sheer feminine power of her beauty in this frozen instant.

How wonderful she is, came clearest into his mind, how wonderful they all are - those amazing women. They seemed embodied in Shiv, here, now. What a privilege they are.

Come Shivi'na Na'Carahad, he smiled at her, you precise astonishment - let's finish this.

The blade was there now, would be there shortly, and he saw in that Instant Shiv's eyes widen as he stepped past her, behind her, his artificial hand falling precisely on the control node, seeing it wound into her, tendrils of silver wires infiltrating and violating her elegance.

His momentum carried him around to stop before her, his eyes sharply gazing into her fiery glare, his grip firm on the node, his other hand, pulling her close into a deadly embrace.

The blade was a razor sheath of lightning when it pierced him, a slice of heat that went in and then went out and her body against his - such a strange time here; such a strange attraction, that solid muscle, those delightful curves, that lovely cold face.

She fought him as she should have, as she would have regardless, in that Moment she was surprised by this unexpected move, at his inexplicable smile.

Shiv twisted the blade.

The crowd roared. His agony roared.

Crichton stared into her fiery eyes. She saw it - he knew she did - that adoration in his eyes.

"We had a bargain."

He coughed blood into her face.

Then pulled with all his might.

MHAL POUNDED A FIST ON THE ARM OF HIS CHAIR, caught up in the moment, roaring with the rest. Nexus caught her breath as she saw the blade stand out from Crichton's back. He yet held Shiv close, a clutching embrace as she saw his blood begin to spatter the white floor.

With a supreme contempt, Shiv pushed him away and he reeled into a stagger to crash to the floor face down, the blade she left in him, pushing through as he collapsed.

For a long moment, she stood motionless, her face impassive, eyes blinking furiously. She looked up to Mhal and he waved at her in triumph, the signal to withdraw. She was stained with Crichton's blood. Nexus started. Shiv's eyes were almost all pupil, fires banked in darkness.

Shiv walked around the face-down Crichton, pulled her blade free and then reached down to grab a wrist, surprising a few above she dragged the much larger man effortlessly behind her, leaving a long red smear as she disappeared behind the door.

Mhal laughed and regarded Nexus with an arrogant smile.

"So this day goes," he gloated. "The infamous John Crichton is no more!" His wide mouth clenched in a vicious smile. "Now what shall I call you - hmm? Mijs - 'toy', perhaps?" He licked his lips with a wet purple tongue. "No! Hehgl! 'Receptacle'!' That will do nicely."

Mhal hit a control on his chair.

"Fraal! Send Shindal to me - prepare food and drink and music! This day we celebrate a momentous victory!"

He laughed out loud and it took all Nexus had not to immediately assault him. She knew she could do nothing with the damn collar around her neck and silently cursed Crichton for this failure. It was admirable and heroic, but it was a failure regardless. Now she had to work out some way to escape this, some way to…

Shiv stepped into Mhal's box.

The Blade Maiden was spattered with blood, more than Nexus thought she should have on her - a rivulet of it on her face that slowly trickled down her cheek toward her lips. She had blood there as well, smeared like just-kissed lipstick. She stopped near Mhal who opened his mouth to praise her when she raised her left fist, palm down, and stood waiting.

Mhal frowned and raised his hand, poised beneath hers.

"Shindal… a gift?"

Shiv dropped the control chip into it.

"I am Shivi'na Na'Carahad," she said in her quicksilver voice, colder than the ice of her homeworld. A blade flashed to stop precisely on the great artery at his throat. A sliver of ice where the blade was, a hot trickle of blood, the thing a razor and the slightest movement…

Mhal inhaled a shriek as Crichton stepped through the door.

BEHIND THE PIRATE, THERE WERE DEAD GUARDS, MANY DEAD GUARDS.

Crichton was clutching his midsection, though he was yet bleeding heavily and that sight scared Mhal almost as much as the dagger at his neck. Crichton pushed himself in and Nexus caught him as he staggered. He steadied himself against her. She gripped him firmly and held him tightly.

"How's this fucker do his predictive shit?" He asked, his voice grinding with pain, his eyes blazing with rage.

"It's a gland in his throat, large like a nut - he's got teeth in his throat, too," she told him, steadying him as he pushed off her, a hand that lingered on the back of her head, a stroke there.

He staggered forward to halt himself with a hand on Mhal's chair. The 'Warlord''s eyes flitted back and forth between Shiv and the Pirate frantically, seeing nothing but death in their eyes.

Shiv reached over to him with her free hand and laid it lightly on Crichton's shoulder. A moment later, she removed it and as if it were a signal, Crichton grabbed Mhal's head and abruptly shoved his artificial hand into Mhal's mouth as Shiv smoothly withdrew her knife - with a ferocious snarl Crichton pushed it further into the suddenly-frantic slaver's throat. Mhal bit down but his sharp little throat teeth met only the hard metal of Crichton's hand.

Nexus gasped. She'd seen this before, just not like this.

With a savage yank, Crichton pulled the gland free in a spray of blood and saliva. Mhal thrashed in his chair gurgling his pain. There was no one to come to his aid.

Crichton turned that ferocious snarl into an equally ferocious smile and directed his next to Shiv, who had not moved nor taken her attention from Mhal.

"Alive is worse," is all he said. He swayed then turned away to stagger back to Nexus. That smile stayed as he dropped the bloody gland in her hand and tried to go past her. She tossed it away with disgust as he wavered, his vision starting to ebb in and out, then he sagged and almost fell. Nexus hurriedly got under him and pulled him up, concern on her face and he smiled in the face of it, a disjointed thing and she saw him starting to get confused as pain increased and adrenaline faded.

Crichton abruptly reeled in and kissed her and Nexus did nothing but let him, confusion taking away her ability to act for a moment.

He broke it with a fading 'thank you,' and she decided to think about it later and moved them both away, toward the door.

No one tried to stop them. There was no one to stop them. She slowed to check and saw Shiv still calmly regarding the Visconjati with her cold demeanour as he mumble-pleaded, all bloody spittle and imploring hands, having slid out of his chair and fallen to his knees.

Her eyes were as yet those black pitiless holes.

Nexus shook her head and took Crichton out.