Age of Space

In the dark of night, a silhouette slowly started sliding out of his bunk. Silently he moved on to another bed. After a few pokes to the shoulder the other figure awoke, now they were two.

“We’re really doing this? We’ll get thrown into the arena.” The newest addition to their team of two said.

“Not now, we’ve gone through this. With a bounty of 1 million credits, we’ll have enough to get out of here both.” The first to awake whispered back.

“Is it really true though? A bounty that high sounds like it's out of a dream!”

“Shhh, got the intel straight from Argus’s men myself. It’s good.”

The two men, both wielding a makeshift knife, made their way over to a sleeping figure. They looked at each other, nodded, then with decisive viciousness, raised their knives, and stabbed down.

Ronin may have gone to bed, he may have looked to any normal discerning gaze, to be a perfectly normal 18-year-old, sleeping soundly without a care in the world. He was not. Having made up his mind on being careful of Marvin, he'd forgone sleep.

He’d naturally heard the silent whispers of his fellow cellmates as they approached, aiming for his life. He thought back on everything that had happened today and it became clear:

So, it's come to this… News of my bounty has reached so far that even the prisons of Exodon now knows of it. I really hoped it wasn't true, but it also seems like Marvin has been plotting against me since the very beginning.

As the two shivs were raised, then began descending, he was ready, erupting from within the bedsheets.

With both hands free from the cuffs, he grasped both wrists, immobilizing the knives. Swiftly, and with great strength, he squeezed tight, twisting his hands until a sharp SNAP! signaled the breaking of bones.

Before his assailants, now with wrists bent and misshapen, could begin to scream, he silenced them, striking both their necks with carefully calculated strength. Their pain would not alarm the guards tonight.

Snapping the neck of one of his attackers, he turned to Marvin, his so-called mentor in this hellscape:

“Now now Marvin. I really hoped you’d be a genuine man. That fake persona of yours was actually quite pleasant. I liked being around that version of you. After the "incident" with the mask though…” Ronin heaved a sigh. “Perhaps you had a hand in the attack on me when I was moving through that great door as well.”

He waited for Marvin to catch his breath, then gently placed his hand on his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter now anyways… Now tell me more about this man named Argus. I’ve heard quite a lot about this man lately, I believe it involved something like a bounty?”

Marvin looked at him with fearful eyes. It seemed he’d been under a grave misconception all along. This kid was not some innocent youngster. That level of strength, the ruthlessness by which he broke the neck of his friend Pracksus…

“M-Monster…” He managed to croak out.

Just what had he gotten himself involved with?!

The sacred room was not only draped in beautiful paintings of historical ships. There were also a number of shelves, ordained with several carefully crafted, functioning models of spaceships. From fighters, shuttles and corvettes to battlecruisers and motherships, the only thing these ships had in common, was that they were all designed by citizens of Concordia. In the middle of the room, designed to look like the bridge of a star destroyer, sat a cohort of statesmen, both their bearing and choice of clothes signifying great gravitas and importance.

“Concerning the current annual budget, we should prioritize all students. This habit of spending more and more funds on a few selected candidates may increase our reputation when one of them succeeds, but it has severely weakened the support staff which, if I may add, Concordia is entirely dependent upon.” Continued Bladia Ungtari, the Minister of higher education.

“If only a single of our candidates makes it to a higher star system. That single candidate can do more for Concordia's strategic interests than thousands of support staff. Not to mention the generous return we’ll receive on our investments.” Petrov Bjerksson, Head of ISFA ship design, answered back.

Perking up at the mention of more investments, Antova Li, head of the pilot program, broke in: “And on that note, we should increase our funding into Cadet Haraken's training immediately! He's the best pilot we've had in 70 years and with the current state of our flight simulation equipment, we're practically wasting away his talent!”

“Before we go any further, we'll have to address the report sent to us on this new potential genius. Roneus Ravent, seeing as you’re the one who wrote the report. Why don’t you bring us up to speed?” Principal Armstrong interrupted.

Roneus was not supposed to be here of course, but recently, an anonymous tip had been sent to nearly every member of staff working in the ISFA. With the revelation of some very unsavory details concerning the planetary guard, and the subject of his own report, he’d been forced to attend. Sighing, he accessed his intercom and with a swipe, he called the report up to project over the center of the table before them. A few seconds passed while the board members studied the hologram on the table as it slowly spun around, depicting Ronin as well as his associated information.

“The student, Mr. Maximus is a first year and the majority of my report concerns the very first practical exercise he did. During a KGC-fusion reactor repair session, his team did not know that you're supposed to run diagnostics checks first, before disassembling the engine." Roneus paused as people started chuckling.

"Yes, I know, typical first year mistake. What makes this different, is what happened afterwards." Raising his finger into the air, Roneus emphasized the magnitude of his following words. "They repaired it. Perfectly at that."

"How!?" Exclaimed Petrov the head of ISFA ship design, confusion apparent on his face.

Roneus Ravent gestured towards the hologram: "Mr. Maximus here, after reading the blueprint, compared it to every single parameter obtained from the multiscanner. Let me remind you, this specific engine has a total of 11501 different components."

"How much of the multiscanner data can you actually compare to the blueprint though?" Petrov asked, seeking clarification.

Roneus raised his eyebrows, then slowly spoke: "13 "

"Over 10 thousand components, 13 variables for each...It would be like finding a needle in a haystack, no, it would be even harder than that! But there are all kinds of tools for this, surely-" Petrov began.

"I’ve already accounted for that; he didn’t use any tools. If you’d bothered to read the report you’d know." Roneus interrupted.

A hint of a shock spread through the room before it was quickly suppressed.

Principle Armstrong had been waiting for this. "Too bad he's been kidnapped." He broke in.

“What? How could this happen!?” Minister Bladia erupted.

“This, in part, is why Mr. Ravent here, was called in. We had to be sure this kid is actually a genius, like the report states. You see, not long ago, we received an anonymous tip concerning the Planetary Guard. The tip details how they deliberately framed this potential genius after receiving bribes from a known crime lord. Not long ago, according to the report, the Guard saw fit to ship this student of ours away. All the way over to Prison Planet Exodon.” Armstrong followed up. “Mr. Ravent, if you please.”

“Thank you... I know of the man who allegedly signed off on this. This Wing Commander Julius. Working in landbound transport for many years has led to quite a few interactions between us. I can tell you that, if this tip is credible, Julius would be one of the first names I would suspect. There have been rumors surrounding him and on how dirty he is since the very first day I met him.”

Minister Bladia Ungtari's face began to change as realization dawned on her. “And you’ve brought this up to me because I can tell the mayor…”

The principal gave her a steady gaze. “Every genius is a strategic asset to Tar, Minister, I’m only bringing this up because I’m concerned about our national interests. We have here, a candidate which could significantly strengthen the kingdo-”

“Enough.” She cut him off. “I will call him.”

Principle Armstrong's head bowed slightly in appreciation. "Thank you.”

The ringing alarm boomed once again through the complex, announcing the beginning of a new day.

Ronin was not awoken by the alarm this time, in fact, he hadn’t slept at all since the incident just a few hours ago. After an enhanced interrogation of Marvin, the reason for his apartment blowing up and his imprisonment had finally been revealed.

The 5 men he killed in district 101 had a boss. Argus was the face of their organization, but Marvin speculated there was someone else in charge. Called but a myth and a legend due to his elusiveness, the man targeting Ronin was a ghost. All Marvin knew of him was a name and a title. "Specter, The ghost butcher".

If I ever get out... Heck, I won't even bother with placing a bounty on him. I'll visit him myself, Ronin inwardly grumbled.

If trying and failing to sleep in a small, enclosed room with two dead bodies was not bad enough. He had to put on the prisoner's cuffs again, which was not easy, considering there was a real risk of breaking them in the process.

“Those are some big black bags under your eyes, fish!” Bulkster, still tired, spoke over the alarm. The big man, thick as he was, had still not realized what happened tonight, seemingly sleeping through the whole thing.

The same could not be said about the others. The man with the CLM tattoo looked over Ronin nervously as they walked out of the cell. “You're not who I thought you were… There’s no bad blood between us, right?” He voiced, pointing towards the cell.

As the cuffs began lifting him above the railing, Ronin made his stance clear. In as loud a voice as he could manage, he spoke for the entire complex to hear: “Marvin and his friend made their move against me! If you mean well, I shall treat you well! If you mean ill, I will not hesitate! Just as with Marvin, anyone who moves against me, I will strike down, no exceptions!”

Ronin knew he couldn’t hide what had happened in that cell. Someone would have to take the blame.

Better that I take the blame, than an innocent. I did it, time to own up.

At this point, even Bulkster had caught on. “Holy void of beginning fis-, no, Ronin! You’re a savage! You should have told me.” Bulkster wasn’t fearful though, it looked more like he was happy?

Ignoring the loud man, Ronin was happy to realize how the nanites injected into his body acted normally. It had been one of his fears the moment he tore off the cuffs and began training yesterday. Neither the act of tearing them off, then putting them on again, nor the death of his two cellmates had led to nanite ejection. There would be consequences though.

As he began lowering towards the ground, the magnetic fields of the complex shifted, aiming him directly into the arena.

It is as I thought, since the arena and death by ejection are the only two direct forms of punishment enforced here, it had to be one of the two.

He knew this was a possibility, but this could also be a good thing. He had a big bounty, and inmates would be aiming for him left and right. If he was ruthless enough in the arena. His brutality should scare off anyone hoping for an easy payday, saving him a lot of trouble later on.

As the metal cage began enclosing the arena, protecting it from the acidic air, several people began running towards it.

Wait, that's a lot more people than yesterday! Most of them were looking at him with greed in their eyes.

“I told you that butt was mine. Go back if you don’t want to die!” One of the men shouted.

“I’m here for the bounty you pervert!” Another outraged voice rang back.

As they entered the arena, they began closing in on Ronin. “We all know the show won’t start before the enclosure is lifted. That's 10 hours. There is no use in acting tough. The moment you entered here, your fate was already sealed.” He spoke as the men approached.

“You, what!?” A voice spoke back as a flurry of insults and displays of bravado began pouring out from the mob.

Left with 10 hours and little to do, Ronin ignored the noise and accessed his mind palace. There was nothing those men could do to him now anyways. He’d seen what happened to the guy who started attacking early yesterday. Inside his mind palace, he’d began walking along the corridors of the mental goliath class spaceship, passing from gate to gate. Lately, he'd been attempting to sense what was behind the gates, without opening them. The last gate he'd opened had injured him and that was the smallest gate of them all. Now, after having reached the 4th stance and somewhat healed his mindscape, he felt ready for another. It would be nice to actually know what information he'd be getting before being injured again. He wanted to make an informed choice this time.

Among all the gates, or more accurately, the sealed off wells of information he'd studied, two stood out. As he touched the smaller of the two gates, he felt a vague impression of it containing something related to the mind, but it felt very esoteric and foreign. The larger one, also feeling like it contained something related to the mind, had a different quality. It gave off an impression of mental strength, sharpness and flexibility.

The question was, which should he choose? What he truly needed was a way to resist the mental influence of the alien artifact and the larger gate felt more relevant, but could he handle the backlash from opening it? The smaller one, on the other hand, contained less risk, but it was harder to discern whether or not it would actually be useful.

Considering my situation, there is not much hope for me here anyways. I'm essentially locked up in a prison, famous for not letting anyone out. In addition, there's over 150,000 inmates here, lusting after my bounty… Or my ass.

That made the calculus much easier, it was decided, he’d pick the larger of the two gates, but not now. He was tired and further damaging his mind palace, right before the battle, was not an option. He focused on resting, mentally preparing himself while sharpening his mind.

“...”

As time passed, Ronin entered a semi-conscious state. Hearing an increase in the rustling movements around him, he checked the time. Soon the protection surrounding the arena would be lifted. He glanced over the future battlefield.

50 people entered the arena this time. Where is all that energy I saw from before? Ronin inwardly shook his head.

Only one person would leave this place. How could they all so confidently rush in here with the promise of credits? A bounty? What were the odds they’d survive? It finally seemed to have dawned on the men, just how foolish they’d been, as they now sat there. Isolated. Weary.

The metal cover, protecting the arena began lifting and the speakers mounted onto the walls began announcing:

[We’ve got ourselves a very special battle today fellow heroes! A grand total of 51 men has chosen life through combat, but only one can claim the right! Among these 51, there is also a traitor who chose to take the life of two fellow cellmates in the black of night! He will not be allowed an armament, but you other patriots are, of course, worthy! Let's get you something for the coming struggle!]

As the weapons started descending, Ronin's complexion turned rueful. They really don’t want to make this easy on me.

The inmates began picking up their weapons and Ronin could see teams forming. Most teams seemed to be planning to target other lone men, but not him. They barely even spared him a glance now that the situation had gotten serious.

They must see me as weak... Still, should I stay in the shadows, just because I can? No. Every single person in this prison is currently watching this. There would be no better time to show them how costly a bounty I truly am.

The different, dark, deep, bass filled voice, once again filled the prison:

[Combatants prepare…]

The prison once again turned silent. The anticipation building.

[Ready, steady… Combatants Fight!]

Pandemonium was unleashed, and Ronin ran straight into it.

Sliding feet first into the mayhem, he just avoided a sword strike passing above his head. While still sliding, he rolled out of the way of yet another sword, this one aiming to stab him from above.

Quickly bolting to his feet, he saw his attacker. The sharp-nosed devious looking fellow, swung again. Ronin positioned his feet, the right foot in front of the left, then leaned right, letting the attack pass him by.

Carefully maintaining his balance, while still leaning, he dashed in, closing the distance. He then punched the man, straight in the solar plexus. Now after suffering from a paralyzed diaphragm, Ronin was free to grab the harmless inmate.

They refused me the use of a weapon but said nothing about another person, he thought as he lifted the man, positioning him as a shield.

The heavier gravity on Exodon, being 1.6 times that of Earth, made movement straining and slow. It therefore came as quite the surprise to the crowd, when a spinkly kid, just over 1.7 meters, began to move like that gravity didn’t affect him. When he also lifted another inmate, then proceeded to use him like a shield, however, that surprise changed over to shocked confusion.

Ronin held the man above him, blocking two men attacking him with batons. Spotting a brief opening, he threw his new sharp-nosed shield at them, knocking them over. Proceeding to knock them out, he, with both hands, grabbed the man by the ankle and picked him up again.

He could do more with this man than just use him as a shield. While dragging the man behind him, he proceeded to jog up to another pair, locked in combat. With his feet wide apart, he strained his muscles, then, in a wide arc, swung the whole man above him. The now, man-sword, struck one of the combatants so hard, his neck snapped as his entire body got smashed into the ground.

Following up, Ronin circled, spinning the man-sword in a counter-clockwise direction, striking the other combatant heavily in the chest. A loud CRACK, sounded out, signaling the breaking of bones. The combatant flew across the arena, landing heavily on the ground before sliding to a stop.

[Fatality!] The speakers resounded, causing the crowd to erupt in fervor.

Ronin's remaining cellmates with mouths agape, just stood there in silence, too shocked to even utter a word. Even Bulkster was tongue tied at this point.

As Ronin continued swinging the man-sword around in the arena, even the crowd began displaying mixed signals. Only half of them were cheering now, the rest were just silent. What was happening down there was just too abnormal…

[Fatality!] The speakers rang out again. But the atmosphere of the whole prison had changed.

As Ronin continued charging into fight after fight, ending them quickly, the combatants stopped fighting each other. Now, they just looked at Ronin. He was faster, swung harder, had more reach and didn’t get exhausted. An unspoken agreement seemed to manifest from the presence of this one man. This variable… He couldn't be allowed to remain on the field. They had to work together.

As more and more people began surrounding him, Ronin picked up speed. The last thing he wanted was to get encircled. At that point, it wouldn't matter how skilled he was, he’d have blind spots regardless.

The man-sword he’d been using had turned into a big loaf of blood and meat. Not much remained of the sharp-nosed inmate who'd first attacked him. Ronin quickly advanced, mindful of keeping his balance as he swung the meat stick in front of him, clearing the way. Argh! A sword strike reached him, digging into his waist. Momentarily distracted, a blow from a baton crashed hard into his shoulder.

He needed distance. Reaffirming his grip onto his meat stick's ankle, he swung with all he had. Spinning around, he completed a full circle, knocking down two combatants before finishing with an overhead strike, pulverizing the head of the bastard who’d struck him with a sword.

The crowd was silent now. This was not how arena fights were supposed to go. In the arena, anyone could die. It was a chaotic field of temporary alliances, betrayals and if you were deemed as one of the weaponless, you died quick. Never had an inmate been refused a weapon and lived. Never had an inmate fought not one, but everyone, at the same time. And that was before even getting into the grotesque way it was being done.

Ronin kept accumulating injuries, but the combatants kept dropping. He may have slowed down a little, but the other combatants seemed to have slowed down even more.

[Fatality!] The speakers rang again, but no one cheered.

Having swung around the man for what must have been the 100th time, the new man-sword broke. Ronin was now only holding onto a leg. Picking up a new inmate by the ankle he set out to bring down the remaining combatants.

Out of the 51 inmates at the start of the battle, only 5 remained. They weren't charging him anymore. They were running away. As he was about to corner another man, a blackish red mist escaped from the man's back.

Ronin looked around. Black-red mist began erupting from the other remaining combatants as well. Every single one of them let out screams of agony.

Nanite ejection. Guess the prison guards aren’t very fond of people fleeing. He sighed. Exhausted. In more ways than one.

[Winner… Inmate 5348!]