Into the Black

The Arena (officially known as the Grand Arena of Dimiya) was easy to find. Even in a large city like Thelorious, it was easy to find a building capable of holding a million sentients in the stands alone. The shape of the Arena was, as one might expect, a large circle, around a central field 100 meters in diameter. It was an impressive structure, built mainly of an advanced kind of reinforced concrete that was made to look like stone, giving it a classical appearance, especially with all the columns and statues of past champions ringing the stadium.

Entering the stadium, our comms were assaulted by a plethora of spam messages, advertising all manner of services. Snacks and concessions, not to mention all manner of beverages, were a given, since this was a sporting event, and I’d already been told about the betting, so the various bookies sending me odds on some of the upcoming fights weren’t a big shocker, either. And I guess I ought to have expected that there would be some people offering paid ‘companionship’ while you watched the fights. Bloodsports and exhibitionism really did it for some people, after all.

But what really surprised me was the open call for gladiators to fight on the arena floor below. I did not think they would be recruiting fighters for the day’s bouts from the stands, but apparently that was the way many of the first-timers and new fighters got their start here. Not everyone came from a recognized slave gladiator training facility, or was just out of the Confederation armed services, after all. Those were the two main sources of gladiators, since they had a lot of people who were well trained in the art of combat, and definitely in the need of ready money.

On a whim, I checked the current lineups for the ‘40 and under’ division. Naturally, one couldn’t tell everything about an opponent by their level, since skills and levels went up at different rates, but most of today’s fighters in the lower division looked to be in their 20s, so there wasn’t too big a gap with me, in terms of level. They all looked like brawlers, for the most part, though there were a couple that were billed as psy-specialists. Guess that made sense. Until you had some serious power a regular battle would be more entertaining for the fans than a psy battle.

We got our concessions, and found a group of seats all together in the lower areas of the stands, where the ‘common’ people were. We came to see the fights, not hide away in a box with the VIP crowd. Sure, everyone had an AR interface that allowed them to ‘see’ the action close-up or zoom out as they pleased, since it was a function of the Arena, but being down in the crowd was a lot more thrilling than being in a box.

OK, and maybe I was also enjoying the looks people were giving us. After all, I looked like a fairly attractive human male, but I was surrounded by beautiful women of several species, including both a felisan and a catgirl, and Shearah had apparently claimed my lap as her personal seat, while Carissa and Sana were curled up next to me (the latter because I told her to, but still). Jaynie and Cali were on the edge of their seats watching the current fight, between two Ihm males, while Raven and Sheila were discussing something or other with Kiki that I was trying to stay out of, despite the fact that I heard them mention me several times. Kiki wasn’t interested in anything but a monogamous relationship, which I respected and made sure the girls understood, but apparently that didn’t stop her from having an innate need for juicy gossip. And I was the most gossip-worthy one of this group, it seemed.

The lovely scene was interrupted when a human man with Asian characteristics came up to us. He gave a short bow, and then said, “Pardon the intrusion, but you are Captain Mollen, of the Starlight Raven, are you not? Nakahara-dono wishes a word with you, regarding a certain dispute between yourself and an associate of his. Perhaps you remember Umeda-dono, and words discussed between you?”

I frowned. Umeda was the name of the Oyabun of the Red Orchids on Smuggler’s Reach that I had most definitely had a ‘dispute’ with. I was still holding some of his family hostage until he got a bounty on my head called off, something that had not yet been done. Still, no reason to be insulting. That would just make things worse. “I remember Umeda-dono, and our dispute. I have no desire to continue the unpleasantness, nor would I care to repeat that discussion in Nakahara-dono’s sphere of influence. It was my hope that the discussion, and my leaving the area, would give time for hot tempers on both sides to cool, so as to avoid needless conflict or loss of face on either side.”

The man nodded. “Ah, yes. It is about the core of that disagreement that Nakahara-dono wishes to talk to you about. It is hoped that the whole thing can be resolved today.”

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I considered that. Getting rid of that Red Orchid bounty would be a good thing, since it meant that fewer people would be after my head, and making nice with the Yakuza would open more opportunities for trading later on. “Then please inform Nakahara-dono that I will be happy to meet with him when it is convenient for him.”

“Excellent! If you would please follow me, Nakahara-dono is in his private box, as there are several fighters owned by the clan who are participating in today’s matches.”

We followed the messenger (I never bothered to get his name) out of the ‘general’ part of the stands, to the more private boxes above the masses who were simply there for the blood and gore. The box we stopped at was guarded by two Asian-looking half-knelfi, dressed in matching black suits. The messenger knocked on the door, and we were soon admitted.

Inside a box large enough for ten to fit comfortably, there were only four people present. Two more guards, both human this time, but dressed as the ones outside. A knelfi female dressed in a very revealing outfit and sporting a slave collar knelt by a large chair, holding up a tray of snacks. In the chair was an old Asian man, dressed in a suit that probably cost more than many people make in a year. Clearly, this guy was Nakahara.