A NEW BEGINNING
Chapter Two
"The Descent of Dark Angel"
08:00 - Planet Grelbin, Tundor Wastes, Bogon Galaxy
It was early in the morning. Snow still fell, sometimes in the form of crystals or puffy flakes, from the darkness of the Grelbin sky. At the geneticist's home, bright flashes escaped some of the vents of the roof, drawing attention to the structure. The sound of gun blasts accompanied the sporadic flashes, betraying the practice happening within the snow-covered structure. Moments later, nothing else could be seen or heard.
A door opened at the front entrance. A gloved hand suddenly appeared grasping the frame of the door, and then a black boot came forth. The light from inside the home expanded over the snow the more the door moved forward, followed by a tall silhouette. Stepping out into the snow, the masked female looked sideways before shutting the door behind her. Tucked under an arm, she held a familiar item from the past--her aerial glider.
The Tuferalox made her appear taller than she originally was. Although the original disguise she had worn before did succeed in providing her a convincing, masculine frame, this time the armor made her gender clearly evident by the shape of the chest plate, which she had crafted to befit her breasts. There was no motive to conceal her gender this time around, and she truly believed that being her natural self, to some extent, would later play in her favor. If necessary, it would be easy for her to mask her voice, but the thought of feigning to be the same thief as before was out of the question; this time she would need to be more serious. She needed no cloak, either, to get the message across that she could be a dangerous damsel.
She lowered her glider and placed it on the snow, pressing a hidden button to activate it. The glider began to hover, and she hopped onto it. Fastening her boots to it with a long strap, she sped down the slope just off to the side of her home. She traveled in the direction of the Mystic's bonfire, hoping to reach him and see what wise words he had to offer, or say about her new look.
She was in luck. The old man was there, busily tending to his fire with a stick in hand. When he saw the stranger on approach, he jabbed his stick into the snow, adjusted his chair, and then sat back in it. His fire crackled and popped, shooting up bits of ember.
"Oh, hello there," he said. "What brings you to this side of the icy wastes?"
Angela slowed her pace, came up to the side of the sage, and remained hovering. In her usual voice, though partially muffled behind the mask, she greeted him. "The same to you, Mystic."
The mystic interlocked his fingers and smiled. "What is it that you wish to ask me, young one?"
She flitted her ears as she formed a question, "So...eh...what do you think of my...new look?"
The mystic eyed her from head to toe, twiddled his fingers, and then hummed as if he were captivated by some mysterious force. At this, Cross's glowing eyes shaped into a smile; she giggled to herself, considering whether or not the sage made such a strange noise to be reassuring or believable--she hoped for the former, because she wanted to hear him say that her armor design was better than the silly outfit she'd worn before.
The old man's hum came to an end, and then he closed his eyes as he spoke. "You look, er, very nice in all that metal. May the great forces protect and guide you always, child." He then gave a nod.
"Why thank you, o' sage. I like to believe it's a hundred times more fashionable than my old thief outfit."
At the reminiscence of her being in that old wear, the sage chuckled behind a few crooked teeth. Cross folded her arms, gestured to the side on her glider, and narrowed her eyes a little to show that she was offended.
"Oh, so sorry,"--he held up his hands--"the old you in such apparel tickled a funny bone."
"Har-har."
A thought came to the old man as a gust of wind swept past them and made his headband flutter. Behind the body suit, the cold wind didn't faze her. But what did give a slight chill on her was the fact that her striped ears were exposed, projected from the back of the helmet. The wind, however, gradually ebbed to softness, and the snow fell slower.
"Since you're here, I may have something of interest to you." The mystic rose from his chair and filched for something in the pockets of his long robe. "While taking an afternoon walk on the sands of Tabora, about a year ago, I found--no, stepped on--this item. The blasted thing cut the sole of my foot."
He revealed and showed her a small, portable and electrical device. The gadget itself seemed to be similar to a Gadgetron PDA, but its function remained enigmatic. The true purpose of it, while the geneticist studied it, remained incomprehensible; it was something she had never seen before.
She reached out for it, but the old man closed his hand. "Not so fast, young one. This item is broken. I will need three Moonstones to heal its sad chi. Get the stones, and, this device, you shall have it." An amiable, partly goofy, smile appeared on his face.
At this, Angela curled a hand into a fist, and then pointed off in the direction of the wastes. Based on the tension of her eyes behind the mask, she showed great determination and excitement at the first sign of a challenge. She knew she would have to deal with the Y.E.T.I. and Arctic Leviathan beasts to gather the stones, but this was only the more reason to take up the chance to practice her skills as a fighter.
"You have yourself a deal, Mystic. I'll return with your moonstones as soon as possible. You just better keep that device warm for me, because this girl is coming back with more than you could ever ask for." For old time's sake, she then chortled in that ancient thief's voice, narrowing her eyes in exaggeration. "Hahaha!"
She motioned her legs to stir the glider in the direction of the snowy hills and plains of the waste lands, and took off with haste. The glider's afterburners flared vividly, leaving a trail of thick smog. Behind her masked head her ears fluttered in the wind, and the sage stood up and looked after her, listening to the sounds of his fire.
Several minutes later, Cross slowed and steadied her glider as she came up to a quiet area, a plane of snow, with a continuous hilltop several yards out, and a suspicious pool of frozen water at its center. Reaching down to her side, where her scabbard awaited the capable hand of an adept fighter, she grasped the hilt of her beam saber. She hovered with caution toward the frozen pool, circling it once, and then waiting for a stir. At first, nothing seemed to move or show any signs of a living thing.
"All right, where are you? I've seen your kind before, always hiding beneath the ice, waiting to attack some unsuspecting creature, and hoping to get a quick meal," she whispered, trying to see through the thick plate of ice over the pool. Because she'd been living in the Tundor Wastes for so long, she knew of all the creatures that dwelled within it.
Upon a second survey around the pool, a startling sound erupted behind her and caught her by surprise. It was a small group of Y.E.T.I.--snowbeasts--that had been disturbed by the sound of her glider. They seemed petulant, as if having been awakened from their peaceful slumber underground. If ever such a thing occurred, no one really knew. They shook their thick, white-furred pelts free of snow, and then growled when they saw what trespassed into their territory. With all red fiery eyes, seemingly incandescent, fixed on the masked intruder, it only took one of them to give chase--and have all the rest to follow.
All of sudden, from behind, the crackling of ice warned her of another danger: a massive beast, none other than the infamous Arctic Leviathan, who shattered through the ice cap of its home, giving a monstrous roar; the sound of the roar itself was enough to make the ground quiver, and the snow on the hilltops fell in large heaps. But the snowbeasts ignored their gigantic enemy; they were more concerned about their first guest.
The first snowbeast lurched a few feet ahead of Cross in attempt to tackle her. And as it was in midair, she unsheathed her Plasma Sword and activated it with a flip of a switch. She drew back her right arm as if to welcome the beast with a powerful slash, but the leviathan behind her unexpectedly swished past her right and engulfed the snowbeast in a single swoop. The surprise attack from it made her lose her foothold, and she fell back on the snowy surface. Staring up at the leviathan, it returned an icy glare, and then gave another horrendous cry.
Angela's glider slowly hovered out of her reach and at this she cursed herself. Not losing faith in the situation, she climbed to her feet, readied her beam sword again, and slashed the second beast that dared to attack her.
When the sword brushed against the thick pelt of the Y.E.T.I., it cried out in pain, and most of its fur in the front was completely singed out of existence. It fell back in agony, and it took a little while before it decided to come again--far more upset than before. The other snowbeasts, despite seeing one of them go down with a single hit of their assailant's blade, marched forth in greater numbers, calling in reinforcements.
Angela performed a dive as another snowbeast lunged with its claws and teeth. She leapt in such a way that her lean body turned in midair, during which time she equipped her Star Blade in her other hand, and threw the blades in self-defense. The blade struck the snowbeast in the head, separated, and ricocheted, bursting into deadly stars with sharp, serrated edges; the stars themselves found their marks on the foreheads of three more beasts, knocking them down for the count.
Taken aback by the magnificence of her Star Blade, she threw another one at the second wave of beasts that dared her to. Meanwhile, the leviathan watched the scene carefully, trying to decide its next meal. His eyes fell on Angela, and then its long neck stretched out to intercept her.
Angela saw this attack coming and leapt backwards, performing a simplistic flip away from the humongous fangs. When she landed in the snow she reached for where her utility belt would be, but remembered that was only with her thief disguise.
"Drat!" She growled.
When the leviathan saw that it had missed her, from within its maw, it began to harness some kind of energy. The beam grew intensely bright, making her shadow, and the snowbeasts', distend into the far reaches of the plane; and, just before the scaly creature let loose its destructive energy beam, a snowbeast tackled and pinned her.
The leviathan's beam struck both of them.
In front of her, the snowbeast was instantaneously turned into a solid block of ice--and broke into bits in front of her eyes. Luckily, the beast had absorbed most of the damage for her, or she would have been frozen too. She stood again, punched the forearm that had been caught a little by the icy blast, and broke the ice from the armor. This allowed her to use her left arm once more, which held her Plasma Sword.
"No more Ms. Nice Girl!"
With the aid of the next snowbeast that leaped for her, she used its shoulder as a platform, took to the air, positioned her sword in a stabbing manner, and came down over an unsuspecting Y.E.T.I. The attack put the beast out of its misery for good. Then another one came from behind.
In one fluid motion, she turned and decapitated a snowbeast, and then booted the furry torso back into the snow. Off to her side, the leviathan snatched up another snowbeast and swallowed it whole. He set his sights on her.
The same attack came as before, but Angela hopped onto its head, positioned her saber in a downward thrust, and gave the beast something to think about. The leviathan howled in agony, shaking its head back and forth, and threw her off near her glider. Landing on her glider, she threw more of her star blades at the remaining snowbeasts.
The snowbeasts went down without a fight, accompanied by the resounding percussion of the leviathan, who too, toppled to the surface with a final roar. A mountain of snow flew into the air when the giant beast hit the snowy surface, seeming to come down as equally as fast, raining over the female slayer. There was no one else left. It was time to reap the benefits. At that, she walked over to the pool where the scaly beast had originated and kneeled to see what was in the water. The deep, blue glow of the moonstone reflected off the visor of her helmet. And the success of having conquered her enemies and finding the first crystal was welcoming.
This was only one moonstone, and the others were to be found--soon.
Brought back to consciousness after having fallen asleep in his chair, the sound of a bag full of moonstones hit the snow beside him. The sage looked up in surprise to see that the young girl had gathered so many, and more than he had originally asked for. Satisfied, he sat up in his chair, reached into his pocket, and tossed the device to his neighbor.
"As promised," he said. "Now let me see what else I can do for you with these wonderful--and valuable--stones."
Angela watched the old man, with the device held out in her hand, as he reached into the bag full of moonstones. He removed a few, held them, and began to sink back into a chant like before. While he was working his magic, she studied the device in her hand, and then blinked in surprise. The device was repairing itself.
The chant stopped and the sage reopened his eyes, giving a gesture that said she was welcome. After that, he reclined in his chair, closed his eyes, and went back to sleep.
Turning and examining the device, its function now became clear. It was a navigational computer that possessed every galactic map a person could ever ask for. With it, she could travel from planet to planet without having to resort to those paper maps as she had done before. This was already becoming a great start.
In her ship, just as the canopy was shutting her inside, she typed in the name of a destination she wanted to travel to, and the results appeared quickly. She had decided to search for the closest place where she could get her ship modified, realizing now that it needed an upgrade of parts, or that she just needed to get a star fighter in case trouble came blasting. The small ship was not designed for much maneuverability. She read aloud the first name that came up on the small screen.
"Slim's Shack? Slim Cognito." She stared past the ship in thought. "Hm. Let's see what he has to offer."
With that said, she made her mind up to visit the dealer, and started her ship. Her ship was too small, she thought, and if she could talk her way into a replacement then the trip would be well worth it. Her ship was not for space combat. That she was sure of.
13:05 - Slim's Shack, Slim Cognito's, Bogon Galaxy
By the time she reached the ship dealer's shack, she was already growing with anticipation for more action. It seemed the small battles she had at home weren't enough; she needed something more to prove she was fully capable of great things just as Ratchet and Clank, if she was really going to apprehend the new thief. She dismissed her thoughts of Ratchet, beginning to dislike the idea of him returning to her galaxy.
She taxied her ship into the compound that could only fit one ship at a time. After the double sliding doors of the shack entrance closed behind her ship, the canopy of her small ship slid open, and she hopped out with her boots clanking against the metal surface. She scanned over her surroundings: there was an eerie feel to the place, for the three walls that surrounded the landing zone weren't decorated with much of anything; the air was chilly, that she could tell by the sensations of her ears and the fact that the shack entrance had allowed in cold space.
There was only one direction to go in, forward, and she envisioned a lombax having to do the same thing before her. Not too far from her ship, a small walkway led her up to a platform and to a window that had been closed with a shutter. Was this dealer in? She brought up a hand and knocked a couple of times.
There was no answer. She knocked again.
Suddenly, after she had turned her back to the window, the shutters opened upward, and a dark room welcomed her. Startled by the emergence of a pair of eyes, and only that, she retreated a few steps and gasped quietly behind her mask. It was Slim, definitely, and he looked characteristically stark of emotion...until he spoke.
The eyes awoke, a little excited, at the sight of a female customer--and one who looked exquisite in her foreign armor.
"Oh...my...what do we have here? How was the flight?" he asked, and then shifted his eyes to look to see if anyone else was with her.
"The flight was...um...short. I..."
He whistled as he furthered his attention onto her armored body suit.
"What a wonderful get-up, babe. Where did you ever find that?"
Angela's eyes glowed as the flattery went straight to her head.
"Well, you see, I..." she began to explain.
"Wait, don't tell me..."--he chimed--"you stole it, didn't you?" His voice was mysterious and somewhat alluring.
"No, no. You have it all wrong," she said. "It's a design I conceived myself. I'm flattered that you've taken a liking of it."
Slim's eyes bulged in amazement. He was impressed by this customer.
"So there's a beauty behind the armor and mask? Creative, too..." He went off on a tangent, but she brought him back to the point of her visit.
"I'm in need of a star fighter. Do you have anything available? Or can you easily modify mine to be one?" She gestured toward her ship, looking back at it for a moment.
Slim stole a glance at her ship and gave a moment of silence to contemplate. Angela put her hands on her hip, and then began to tap her boot. A few sounds of Slim mumbling to himself in deep thought caught her attention, and she turned sideways to hear whatever it was that he was saying. Finally, his eyes circled and stopped short on her chest, and then looked hurriedly up at her mask.
"I think we can make a deal that will save us both time, energy, and a lot of bolts. Consider this proposition..." he said, his eyes looking off into a corner of his invisible head. "I'm in need of some extra bolts, but I'd rather not take yours to 'adjust' your ship from scratch. So, here's the thing... Megacorp is sponsoring a major gladiatorial event at the Maktar Resort. They'll pay large amounts of bolts--and probably give a cool prize to the winner--and if you could make that profit, I'll be willing to loan you a fighter now, but you'll have to pay me half of the winnings to own it. This way, you can enter the competition for free and have a chance to win lots and lots of bolts, and not to mention some glory. So, do we have a deal?"
Angela placed a finger on her temple, considering the weight of the deal and its repercussions. Once she settled her mind, she extended her hand and nodded. Slim merely looked down at her hand, but did not shake it. At this, she returned her hand to her side and raised an eyebrow behind the mask.
"Sorry, I don't do handshakes," was all he said.
"Oh, really? Well then do you always ask girls to throw away their lives to make a deal concrete?" she quipped.
"Haha! Funny, too. I like you, warrior."
Angela gave a hidden blush. "Thanks. So are we...cool?"
She could tell Slim was smiling by the way his eyes were shaped.
"We're so very cool. Your fighter is all ready and waiting for you. Just pick one. I'll be cheering for you."
Angela gave a thumbs-up, turned, and walked off to her ship.
Beneath her ship the floor began to move and slide aside, pulling her tiny craft away toward a wall. Suddenly, the same massive wall opened and revealed another hanger, and in it were several fighters. The shack was more massive than it appeared to be on the outside. Angela was too thrilled about the many selections; she felt like she had been given an unlimited bolt card and could buy anything and as often as she wanted to without consequences. The only collateral was her ship.
17:48 - Maktar Nebula, Maktar Resort, Bogon Galaxy
Angela Cross arrived at the Maktar Resort during its busiest hour. The resort was getting prepared for the main event, so everyone who was anyone flew in for the next several fights. Multiple light posts dotted the passageways that all connected to the ridiculously massive dome arena. Video monitors flipped channels occasionally to show what types of battles that were to take place, the featured gladiators, and the grand prize number of bolts. Above the monitors was the vastness of the nebula, which gave off a deep blue haze, and all around it one could attest to seeing distant planets , such as Endako and Snivelak among the various moons and infinite number of stars. Transports, freighters, and ships of all sorts occupied nearly every inch of space around the arena. These new sights easily impressed the geneticist, to whom the greatest things she had ever seen were found through the lens of a microscope.
She walked toward the entrance of the arena, looking around the multiple passageways and extensions of the resort. She was so enthralled that it would seem to others that she was a tourist, because her body language showed that she was a bit uneasy with matters that came to dealing with populated areas. Despite this peculiarity, her body armor gave her a different kind of demeanor as well--and an omnipotent one too.
She made her way to an escalator, hitching a ride toward the center of attraction--the arena. She took in the sites, noticing a drop ship from afar beaming down various Thugs-4-Less persons; in other areas, where ships met with docks, the sight of Blarg warriors reminded her of the time when Ratchet told his tales about fighting all kinds of people within his galaxy. And after the kind of impact the lombax made in his own galaxy and hers, it seemed the two galaxies weren't too different from each other.
The feeling of something touching the tips of her boots brought her back to attention. She stepped off the escalator and toward a ticket booth. Inside, a ticket master stood tall and was dressed nicely. When she went up to the booth, he elevated his hand, and dismissed her.
"Sorry, we're all out of tickets. The arena is completely filled to its fullest--and I sincerely mean 'fullest'--capacity."
She pointed to herself, "I'm not a spectator; I'm here to compete."
The ticket master looked at her and laughed. In response, she flattened her ears and gave a little growl.
"Sorry. It's been a long day. You wouldn't believe the strangest competitors I've seen today," he said. "You're here to compete, eh? Very well, proceed on and make a right. Good luck, you're gonna need it."
He gestured for her to proceed and she did. She pulled open a door, stepped inside, and the sound of thousands upon thousands of voices hurt her ears. She wasn't used to such a noise level, but her ears had already begun to adjust. A headache was inevitable. She came to bear with the noise and followed the signs. A moment later, the voices of the crowd diminished a little, as that of the announcer's blared over the speaker system. The next series of events were being announced, and she hadn't even registered yet.
She ran down a hall and stopped short at another sign that informed her where the participants were supposed to register for combat. Entering through a double door, she was greeted by many unruly faces of several other competitors of different races. Some carefully studied the newcomer while others were watching a large projection monitor installed into a wall, displaying rules and regulations.
Cross went through the warriors and eventually found a sign-in desk. There, an official of the Maktar Arena looked up in bewilderment when seeing her. Was it just her or did everyone already have something against her commando suit? She didn't really know, but it made her feel uncomfortable--and more determined to win.
A few of the participants had already begun to gossip.
She put her hands down on the desk in such as manner that appeared to be a demand. "I'd like to register for the battle arena."
The official gathered his composure, picked up his clipboard, and began to read her the rights of the corporation.
"By signing, we--the Megacorp Corporation--will not be held liable should you get hurt, become crippled, or die while participating in these brutal events. If you understand these terms, then please sign here..."--he pointed to a line for signature and offered his stylus--"Good luck, ma'am."
Angela wasn't about to turn back now, so she grabbed the pen and placed the tip of it on the beginning of the signature line, but hesitated a moment. At this, the other competitors' gossip grew several crescendos. The longer her pause, the louder their voices grew.
This girl has a death wish!
I can't believe this.
Yo, she's gotta be the first...
She's a goner!
Different pseudonyms crossed her mind, but she needed something that would be memorable. Given the circumstances and how well she performed against the Y.E.T.I. and Arctic Leviathan found on her home world, she tied two words together--and thus Dark Angel was born. She signed the contract, and then an overwhelming sense of pride came over her.
When she turned around, all eyes in the room were on her. She almost felt like she was a celebrity. With that in mind, she accepted all of the attention, and turned it into a sort of impetus. Checking out her armor, weaponry, and gadgets, she made sure everything was in order. Her fellow competitors watched in the greatest fascination. At last, one of them approached her, and uttered one coherent sentence.
By the appearance of this stranger, she could tell he was from the planet Barlow.
"You brave. Very brave. I like that about you."
Then another warrior came up and felt the strange yet exotic body armor.
"What's this? It looks like it's not of this galaxy."
Dark Angel inspected the back of her gloved hand. She didn't disguise her voice to sound tough, she was having too much fun gloating. "Thanks, I'll take that as a compliment,"-- she rubbed a few of her fingertips together; --"and this is a suit I designed all by myself."
"Ooo!" came from the two.
From the back of the room a Thug-4-Less Brute watched the scene before him through shades, rubbing his chin. One could tell his origin was that of Snivelak: a purple-scaled reptilian behemoth with a spiked head. Strangely, he was not exactly garbed in the typical uniform as most thugs were seen in; he only wore dark-colored pants and a short-sleeve shirt that fitted snugly, showing his muscular frame. He wore no shoes, the black, sharp claws of his feet clearly visible. Judging by his nonchalant disposition, he was definitely not the typical thug that went out ravaging anything that was against the thug order. This brute was different.
All of a sudden, an announcement came from the official and the lights dimmed a little. Everyone shifted their attention from the seraphic wonder in black to the Megacorp employee, who then stood up and clasped his hands together.
"Alrighty, everyone, let's gather round and say a brief prayer before the battles begin. As you may already know, the person behind you, across you, or even in front of you may not survive these events. Since such is the case, we at Megacorp provide a brief period of prayer, so please shut your eyes and bow your heads and confess--to your god (or gods)--to forgive you for any sins you may have committed today and any time previous."
Heads lowered almost in a domino effect. Some gladiators motioned their lips to whisper in prayer while others simply shifted weight from one leg to the next during theirs, or turned weapon(s) in hand. The only two people who weren't following accordingly, for whatever reasons, were Dark Angel and the thug brute.
For some strange reason, the geneticist behind the mask couldn't find it in herself to concentrate, or any reason to pray. To her, she believed there wasn't really a major sin to confess. She at least feigned to be praying by lowering her head and partially closing her eyes; but she, during this time of silence, wondered if Ratchet had ever done such a thing during his time in the Bogan galaxy. At the thought of the lombax taking something--anything serious--as this, she imagined him either twirling his wrench or looking around in ignorance. The thought made her smile.
The thug brute didn't pray because he wasn't competing in any of the events; he was merely there to watch the events, but for another reason opted to examine the competitors. He kept a watchful eye on the female warrior, intrigued by her show of bravery, or foolishness. She could feel his eyes on her, and so she lifted her head enough to steal a glimpse of him. Something about him made her uneasy.
When the silence was over movement filled the room. A side, electronic door opened with a drone, and then the competitors emptied the room one by one. On their way to the waiting booth, where all competitors waited their turn, for the many of them didn't last too many rounds, some whooped like maniacs while others swung their swords or maces around in excitement.
The Maktar Arena games, sponsored by Megacorp, were about to begin. Many, if not all, viewers of the Bogan galaxy would be tuned to the arena games from their homes. If families didn't gather around the vid-screen, then they surely were with friends with access to the most brutal footage of combat ever aired to the public. The Bogon galaxy had a quirky grasp of death, because it never seemed to be a sensitive or tangible topic unless it involved millions of people...at the same time.
The time had finally come when it was the Dark Angel's turn to do battle. Many of the warriors she met, if not all of them, had been defeated in one gruesome way or another. From the last battle scene, where the last warrior had fallen forever, a small gathering of Sweeper Bots arrived on the floor to sweep away debris and metallic bodies from the arena, and into the seemingly bottomless pit that crackled with electricity. Seeing this, Dark Angel thought this was a bit insensitive on Megacorp's part, but the spectators paid no heed to sensitivities. These galactic battles were about the thrill, the adrenaline rush, that came between life and death, so there weren't any time for sympathy.
A Bogonian guard beckoned for the last participant.
"Hey, you, you're next," he said almost in a sadistic voice.
Dark Angel walked over to him, looked out onto the floor of the arena, and stood there in a bit of nervousness. Her ears were laid back on her head to show she was a bit worried for her own well-being. The guard beside her pointed toward a huge screen above the center of the floor, which signaled in large text that the final matches were to begin soon. From the crowd came an apocalyptic cheer that rocked the stadium in its entirety.
The announcer came over the voices and began another introduction.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! Megacorp and the Maktar Arena are proud to bring to your viewing pleasure, 'Galactic Gladiators' and the last series of battles--up to five rounds--featuring the fearless and courageous challenger, Darrrrrrrrk Angellllllll!"
"That's your cue,"--pushed the guard from behind--"so get goin'."
Dark Angel walked across a small, round platform that levitated, hearing the sound of the door to the waiting room close behind her with a loud slam. The platform on which she stood moved forward, hovering slowly over the electric moat and toward the arena floor. During this time, she analyzed her surroundings, taking hints from the sliding door compartments all around the arena where the gladiators would appear. The floor of the arena looked wired with booty traps, too, and she reminded herself to keep a vigilant eye out for environmental changes, as she had seen from the big screen of all the gladiators before her fall victim to.
The platform stopped and she walked onto the circular arena floor, heading straight to the center. A resounding awe swept the floor as more spectators got a good look of the last fighter, and then the announcer continued his speech.
"And here is Dark Angel, fearless and bold. He doesn't need to wave, folks. No, wait, I believe that's a she! Amazing! What a turn of events. It appears we have our very first female combatant in the Megacorp Games, ever. This night is surely going down in history! Aren't you viewers at home glad you ordered this Mega-View event?"
From within the audience the same thug brute watched her with the greatest interest; his great, red eyes never left the sight of her. He folded his large arms and smiled grimly. Could she be good as she looks?
"Aw, isn't she a beauty, folks? Well let's see what we have in store for her tonight. Turning our attention to the overhead projection, the challenger has a five-round bout in the Bio- and Robotics-Division, a chance to win a total of ten thousand bolts per round and, if she can manage to survive--we hope so!--then she will also receive a complimentary space heater. Just kidding! She will receive her very own, and one of Megacorp's finest and latest gadgets, the Graviporter Boots. With these babies you can not only adhere to metal surfaces but teleport yourself around easily, as long as there's a translocator nearby. How's that sound, Dark Angel?"
Angel raised her arm above her head and jerked her fist repeatedly.
"There you have it, folks,"--clearing his throat--"Are you ready, spectators?"
The crowd gave a singular shout.
"Are you ready, Dark Angel?" asked the announcer.
She gave a thumbs up. "Ready as ever."
"Let the Bio-Competition begin!"
All of a sudden, two of the chambers that were similar to the one she originated from came forth via a pulling mechanism. When they stopped, their compartment doors slid open, and out poured several gladiatorial henchmen.
These Megacorp gladiators had been genetically engineered specifically for combat. These aliens bore a yellowish complexion, looked fierce with their purple, radiant eyes, and were of medium size--no larger than a snowbeast back on Grelbin. Some of them wielded a lethal chain-mace and a large shield while others held plasma whips at their sides as if to lash out with it at any second. All of them approached slowly, ominous.
Dark Angel reached down at her waist, behind her, and readied three star blades in between her fingers. When a gladiator made a dash for her, she pivoted, reared back a little, and launched the blades in one smooth motion. The leading star blade burst into multiple stars on the gladiator's head and sent him sprawling back with a grunt; the stars continued to bounce off one person to the next before disintegrating. When the few who were struck by her advanced weaponry rose to their feet, they growled.
"Whoa! Did you see that at home, folks? That wasn't anything I'd ever seen before. This girl's got cool gadgets." The announcer blared excitedly over the speakers.
A chain-mace came toward Dark Angel at great speed. With a simple jump, she lunged at the gladiator, barely escaping the spikes of the mace, and came down on his face with her boots. She then unsheathed her saber and activated it, slashing at the closest attacker, burning and destroying his chest armor in an instant.
While giving a battle cry, she performed a powerful jump kick to knock him down.
"Grr!" came from behind her.
A plasma whip came and wrapped around her armor, making a sizzling sound. The smell of acrid smoke came through the pores of her mask. The readings from inside her helmet, on the inner layer of the visor, told her that the suit was being attacked; a nanotech of its power had been lost.
"Curse you!" A genuine growl came from behind her mask.
She turned around, used her gloves the remove the whip from around her waist, and then used it to flog the gladiator. Her gloved hand billowed with smoke, but it was so thick that it could withstand much of the burn. She beat down the ugly alien, who released his whip and fell back in horror. More gladiators appeared from behind, trying to get a piece of the action.
The plasma whip dropped at her feet when her temper tantrum faded. Turning around, she kept the gladiators a few feet away from her brandishing her saber.
"Ooo! It seems someone has gotten her undies in a twist!"
The crowd laughed in an uproar.
Angel grew weary of this petty fight and gripped the hilt of her saber with both hands. When a next few gladiators rushed at her, as she had expected, she came down on the middle one with a thrust, laying him down to rest. Another, crescent, strike was all it took to put the other two down for the count. Thereafter, their headless bodies relinquished their chain-maces and shields. There were only two more gladiators to defeat.
The last two gladiators circled her from both sides, thinking of a way to attack her. Angel remained still, crouched low with hands on the hilt of saber, following one of them with her eyes and with her ears the other. At the sound of a chain being raised from behind, she quickly maneuvered to counter with a swift, vertical strike, and all the gladiator could see was black afterward.
The last gladiator approached with his chain-mace high in the air. At this, Angel snuck in low, brought up her saber, and severed the mace from its chain. The mace fell and landed on the gladiator's foot, which he then howled and held his injured foot. While he was busy tending to his foot, Angel came in close, turned her back, directed her weapon toward herself, and stabbed the gladiator behind her. Her battle flair and overall prowess with her weapons exhilarated the crowd around her.
"Simply amazing! I haven't seen this much skill since our only champion."--the announcer chuckled--"Now let's see what new danger is to come for this skilled fighter."
The second round brought about the robotics division, where the challenger would be introduced to an array of metallic adversaries--Megacorp products, such as the MSRI, II, Blade Ball, and Nidbots. From the high above, the MSR I's and II's lowered themselves down to the arena by their web while the Blade Balls, the more enhanced versions, came from the arena chambers. On the surrounding floor, soft, radiant beams of light caught Angel's attention, and then materialized Nidbots. This time the enemies were in greater numbers.
Dark Angel ran low on blade stars, but she knew her plasma sword would certainly last awhile. And even if her primary weapon exhausted itself, she could resort to her hands and feet, not to mention the arena to her advantage. The battle didn't end just because a fighter ran out of ammunition for every weapon.
The first wave of attackers were the Nidbots. These little robotic critters, a dangerous combination of arachnid and machine, crawled with their eight legs clanking against the surface. They were probably the easiest ones to dispose of, so the black-armored heroine resorted to her sword once more. She bashed, slashed, and thrashed the lot of them into a small, fiery explosion. Then came the faster enemies, the Blade Balls.
These personal security devices were the deluxe models, which featured a higher torque motor fitted with keen, duraplated blades that spun at a quicker rate than their predecessors. As they drew closer to her, they emitted a soft, green glow, followed by the distinctive sound their rotors made.
Wiring and parts dispersed with every hit of the plasma sword. For some that were struck lightly whirled backwards and into the MSRs, making them mistakenly fight among themselves. More and more blade balls tried to surround the fighter, but to no avail they couldn't escape the radius of the sword in whichever way it was twirled. The battle with the blade balls was an ephemeral one.
The last wave came in slowly and calculatedly. The MSRs, though armed with chainsaws and flamethrowers, were a little more intelligent than the other robotics. They advanced with arm-mounted weapons, walking in a similar fashion as the Nidbots did.
Dark Angel readied her sword for a horizontal slash.
The first MSR lurched with its chainsaw, trying to slice the competitor in half. Angel crouched, positioned herself in this fashion to attack, and removed the legs of the robot with a quick swipe of her sword. Once she stood up, another blue menace attempted the same thing, but it missed.
Suddenly, a red one, the MSRII model, aimed its flamethrower at her, and unleashed an endless stream of fire. From afar, a camera panned and zoomed in on the action; and from its feed, it seemed like the fire had engulfed the female warrior, but unexpectedly from behind the robot, sparks and circuitry ripped through its center, as the familiar saber split it in halves. Standing in its place was Dark Angel, cheered by the crowd for such an austere display.
Another MSRII made its approach, albeit its weapon was a bit different. Instead of shooting a stream of flame, it charged up its attack, and released a ball of flame. Dark's attention was on another robot, finishing it off with another well-timed slash. When she turned, standing askant, the fireball struck her right side, and she stumbled forward, lowering the hilt of her saber to the floor to catch herself.
The noises in her helmet warned her of another nanotech lost.
"Uh oh, folks! It looks like the girl's getting a little weary!"
Angel rose to her feet again, pretended to charge with her sword, but threw the last of her star blades--obliterating five of her pursuers. Some of the stars were left over and struck the walls outside the arena, and almost flying into the crowds.
"Round three! Hang in there, Darkkkkkk Angellllll! Hope you like your saur-beasts well done!"
The third round seemed easier than the first two, but that was only because her new foes consisted of three Barlowian Saur-Beasts. This fallacy changed when in specific points on the arena floor, circular plates flipped over and revealed dangerous, metal-spiked fans twirling quickly; and nearby, at strategic parts of the floor plan, where medium-sized orifices appeared, they were actually hidden gas burners, waiting to be lit up to burn whoever happened to be on them.
The Saur-Beasts were big and scary creatures shielded with a tough armor on their backs, which made them a bit arduous to take down. They appeared to be slow, too, but that was part of their facade. Angel learned this rather quickly when one of them charged, moving quickly across the arena in a matter of seconds.
Caught off guard by the sudden rush, she tried to jump over the beast, but it caught her boot and threw her back in front of it. She came crashing down into an agonizing roll on the hard surface. Her Tuferalox armor scraped along the surface and created sparks. By the time she stopped skidding, she was near the edge of the arena, where the electric pit awaited anything that would fall into it.
"Ouch..." she said. "These things are a pain. I better think of another way to deal with these beasts."
She gathered to her feet, deactivated her saber and placed it back into its scabbard. Raising both of her arms, she beckoned the monsters to come and attack her. When they didn't catch on, she taunted them by turning to the side and slapping her buttocks. That surely caught their attention, and they rushed forth all at once.
The timing was just right. As one came close, she rolled over to the side, and let the beast throw itself into the electric abyss. The other two saur-beasts managed to stop a couple of feet in front the edge, turn their bodies, and charge again. This time, however, one of them slammed into her and took her for a wild ride. The beast ran around the arena with her caught in between its big teeth. Terrified at the turn of events, she made a fist and began to beat the beast in the face. It released her near a giant fan--one of the instant death traps littered around the floor.
The blades of the fan blew fierce air into her masked face, making her ears recede as far as possible. She managed to roll away from the fan and avoid a gas burner that tried to set her ablaze with a steady burst of flame.
Angel scrambled to her feet, ran toward another edge of the arena, and tried her trick again. The two beasts charged again, and this time she successfully leapt atop one, ran over it and onto the other, pushing off the second to budge it off the arena. The plan worked and both knocked each other over the edge, creating a large surge of electrical energy. Both were burned to a delightful crisp.
The fourth round came without an announcement by the looks of the chamber doors reopening. However, this time the enemy came as a surprise. They were left over Protopets, the same ones that had been captured but remained malicious as ever. Their little eyes fixed on her, and then a series of sharp, monstrous teeth appeared across their cute faces.
"They still have those?" Dark said.
Without any weapon, she parried off each one that tried to attach itself onto her face, arms, legs, and shoulders. One by one, she punched, kicked, or threw them all over the place. When the last one was disposed of into the electric field, hard metal music began to play over the speakers, and then another announcement introduced the final round.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, now for the main event! He slices; he dices. With over five hundred wins--and one loss--we give you our very own, you still love him, Chainnnnn Bladeeeeeeeee!"--the announcer then whispered--"Mega-Death in Mega-Cage."
"Chain Blade?" Angel blinked in confusion.
Without any notice, the floor of the arena lit up with light from below. Moving to the center in belief that the arena was going to be split into equal parts, which might prohibit her maneuverability, she noticed that she stepped onto a translocator. A massive, cylinder cage from above lowered itself, but from where she stood reaching it was impossible.
"Go to the cage! Go to the cage!" the spectators advised.
Dark Angel bent her knees and leapt high as he could. The translocator increased her jump to great heights, and for a short while it was like flying. Once she arrived in the middle of the cage, gravity transistors activated, and made her adhere to the surface of the cage. She walked around a bit until she looked down and saw a frightful sight--the height of the cage from the surface of the arena. What if she fell?
All of a sudden, the big brute known as Chain Blade appeared at the top of the cage, gathering her attention with manic laughter. He hopped down and his feet attached to the cage, too, with the aid of magnetic rings around his ankles. Angel studied the ugly sight of a genetic warrior, and then laughed. Offended by this, he reached behind his back and pulled out two long swords with a sharp reverberation, which were longer than the challenger's body.
"I slice you to pretty ribbons!" he said.
Angel was unimpressed. "You can try, but I promise you that I will defeat you in a single blow."
"Is, that, right? Ha...ha...ha!"
Chain Blade rushed her and slashed viciously. Angel jumped over the blades with the greatest ease, because the brute was too slow. He tried this antic again, but it failed.
"Stand still, you little bug, so I can crush you!"
Angel moved so quickly around the giant that he had trouble keeping his eye on her. In response, he leapt into the air, used his thruster pack to remain airborne, and began to throw his chain-blades, respectively, in hopes that they would eventually hit their target.
Chain Blade wasn't particularly dexterous with his choice of weapons, but because of their immense power, it was reason enough to at least manage to hit his enemy once and be victorious. However, with this new person, he had the most difficult time trying to destroy her. He soon abandoned the idea of striking her in this manner, and resorted back to chasing her and swinging his blades.
Angel had led the goliath to the end of the cage. She had another plan up her sleeve and, once he attempted to hit her again, she went in for the counter. Chain Blade lost his guard for a moment, and it was enough time for her to use her best trick yet; she wound back a boot and thrust it outward, into his loins. The boot made a fleshy sound when it came into contact with his crotch, and she knew she had successfully pulled off her attack.
For the moment, for however long it lasted, she believed that Chain Blade's eyes turned two different colors--one red and the other green. The giant dropped his swords to the arena floor, held himself, and then stumbled forth a few clumsy steps. A long groan expelled from him, and then he slowly fell backwards, off the cage, and toward the bottom arena. Taking up the opportunity to land softly, she leapt off the cage, landed on his back as he was falling, and prepared for a harsh landing.
A few seconds before Chain Blade's body smashed into the floor--sending a ripple across the arena--she jumped off, landing a little rough several feet from him. When the commotion calmed down and the dust settled, she looked at the work she had done, checked the front and back of her gloved hand to flaunt, and grinned behind the mask. The crowd fell into a deep silence.
"And...Chain Blade...is down."--a moment of uneasy laughter--"That was franken awesome!" said the announcer. "Have you ever seen battles like these? Dark Angel is the new champion of the Megacorp Games. Congratulations!"
The audience cheered, clapping and shouting various things that complimented the warrior. Then a new translocator appeared at the center of the arena. Stepping onto it, the new champion teleported elsewhere in the dome arena to claim her prizes.
Back at her ship the happy Dark Angel felt over the thick bag of bolts. In her other arm, tucked under, was a small shoe box which cradled her new shoes, the Graviporter Boots. She was too engrossed in counting her bolts that she failed to notice someone approaching her landing zone. It was the same, mysterious Thugs-4-Less Brute from before.
In a gruff voice, "You're quite the talented fighter. What's your name? Your real name?" The reptilian folded his arms and looked down at her, waiting for a reply.
Dark Angel suddenly put away her bag of bolts, tossing it behind her. Instead of the bag being tossed into the cockpit of the jet fighter, believing the canopy had been opened already, it landed on the other side of the ship and spilled some of its contents onto the Maktar surface. The sound of the bolts rolling around mortified the new champion. Her eyes smiled in embarrassment as she quickly walked around her ship, knelt, and began to recollect her earnings.
"I rather not tell you my 'real' name, mister."
A soft chuckle, "Fair enough. Well, Dark Angel, you were really impressive. I've been searching for more exceptional fighters such as yourself to increase the ranks of a newly formed thug alliance. Think you might be a little interested?"
She finished collecting her bolts into their sack, dropped them into her ship, and then climbed abroad. "You want to recruit me into a thug organization? Are you sure you're asking the right person?"
"Yes, recruit."
"What? A big guy like you can't take care of himself?"
"Haha! You've humor, too. But really, we're in need of some more people with different expertises. It's not like we'll be like our brethren whom steals and fights without a cause; we're far different. Our members are from different parts of the galaxy, of this one, and of Solana."
This new development intrigued her. He made it sound as if he created his very own Q-Force, another alliance she had only heard of once or twice.
"What kind of line of work did you have in mind for me, assuming I'm slightly interested?"
The thug brute unfolded his arms, came closer, and leaned on the side of her jet. He spoke with a cool voice that was still a little coarse.
"A tracker."
"A tracker?"
"Yes, our elite team is made up of a group of bounty hunters. We're employed by Megacorp."
"Really? That's funny...I'm..." she paused.
"You too? This is all becoming very, very interesting."
"Who or what are you charged with to apprehend?" she asked.
"Well,"--he scratched the back of his head--"Being a fellow employee of Megacorp, I'm sure you've probably heard about the recent break-in at Todano. It's popular belief that this unknown criminal is raiding and looting specific factories and armories that belong to the company."
"Speak of the devil! If you're referring to the same thief, I'm after him too."
A grin formed along the reptilian's naturally stout face.
"Well then, it seems we both are after the same thing. In that case, why don't I give you my card, and give you some time to reconsider us. As I've already said, with a fine warrior on our side, I'm sure we can catch the criminal in no time."
He offered his business card.
Angel accepted the card, checking and turning it over and back, for other things were written in Bogonian. "The Manhunters, eh? Not too bad of a name. And you're located on Snivelak?"
"For all I care, if I can get you on our side, you can change the name of the group," he said, laughing afterward. "Is Snivelak problematic?" He raised an eye ridge.
"Let's just say..." she began, turning her head to look at him, "...I've had a bad experience there, as a former captive. But...that was so very long ago."
"Oh, so sorry to hear that. But I assure you, if anyone tries anything with you, I'll take care of it, personally. You have my word."
That sounded so reassuring. Not that she needed it.
"I'll tell you what, stranger, I must pay a friend back a debt, and then I'll be free to see what your group is all about. How's that sound?"
"Sounds great. I'll be expecting you."
"Sure thing. By the way, how many members do you have for this 'elite' team?"
"Four, so far. All we need is five, because everyone is good at one particular thing. Two members can accomplish what takes an entire squadron to do."
"I sincerely doubt that, but in time we'll see if that holds any truth to it. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you," she said as she extended her hand and shook his.
"The feeling is mutual. See you soon."
The canopy of Dark Angel's ship slid closed. The engines started and sounded powerful. The large fighter slowly rose to a hover, taxied out among the traffic and, with a burst of speed, sped off like a shooting star with a thin, lavender trail from its thrusters.