One Begins

Signar deep in a meditative trance didn’t notice the alarms and warnings displayed on his console. He had shut off the audible alerts anyway, having run out of fuel hours ago, it seemed his fate would be to expire in this ship and perhaps traverse the infinite void forever. At least he assumed space went on forever, he would probably be long dead before whatever end awaited the ship. Eventually he roused from his thoughts as the clang of metal on metal sounded all around him. While he didn’t know the sound of grappling hooks tearing into the hull, he did know this cacophony was not good news.

In short order the shuttle was pulled into a cargo bay, and more unfamiliar aliens approached, each carrying what most modern species would quickly register as a weapon. Signar was not modern and not most species. “Thank you for rescuing me.” Signar managed to say before he was blasted.

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Consciousness slowly returned to Signar. He was on the ground, not on Creeateen ground, but on ground none-the-less. This was a much more comfortable position than that over-padded command chair of the emergency shuttle. Most of him wanted to drift off again, the cares of the past few days abated when unconscious, but that was not his way. Signar did not take the easy way out. The muffled sound of a massive crowd began to seep into his conscious understanding. There were more voices in this din than Signar had heard in a lifetime.

“Get up”, a robotic voice spoke before several bands of pain entered Signar’s food as electrical energy transferred from the robot to Signar’s body.

“Errrg.” Signar sat up, and looked around. There wasn’t much to see. The room was dark, small and aside from himself and the Robot, empty of people.

“Do you understand my speech?”

“Yes.” Signar’s word came quick, not wanting to get shocked again.

The robot produced a sword. Signar looked for an exit, aside from a metal gate there appeared to be none. He was unarmed and rather weak. The robot tossed the weapon to near Signar’s hand.

“You have been acquired to participate in the great galactic gladiatorial games. If you survive ten rounds, you can compete against a champion. If you win that fight, you earn your freedom, and untold riches, of course you’d be the first to do it…but never-mind that. It’s time.”

“Time for what?” Signar did not understand most of the words the robot projected.

“Listen mud man, it’s simple you kill or be killed. Now GO!”

The metal door fell and Signar was blinded with the light from the arena. On the other end he saw his opponent coming at him.

For the first time in his life Signar picked up a sword.