Chapter Text
The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 7: The Roundabout
Scene 16: Rough Crowd
7.16
Rough Crowd
“They want us to put on a show. The fighting has to be real, but we need some showmanship as well.”
Private First Class Sasha Soko and Sgt. Chavez Lone Wolf were far from enthused. Their expressions made it clear to their commanding officer that he needed to provide more context. 2nd Lt. Iov Pushkin took a deep breath.
“We’re playing for time here. If we’re all business, we tire more quickly and our fights don’t last as long. Which means it’s all the sooner when we have to face the next opponent. And today, the next opponent will not be one of us. So stop flexing for each other and start flexing for the crowd.”
This last failed to bring a smile to either the greenhorn or the veteran NCO.
“Maybe you need to tell us why we’re playing for time?” The normally tough Chavez Lone Wolf was feeling just a bit worn down after days of their oeast captors requiring them to fight again and again. And he was beginning to tire of being naked. He wasn’t hurt or demoralized. Just profoundly annoyed.
“Our people are coming for us, Lone Wolf,” Pushkin replied. “You’ve been through war. I know this is just a game. But we still need to stay strong. This isn’t going to be an easy rescue for them to pull off. They may need our help when they get here.”
In response, Sgt. Lone Wolf slapped his thighs, stood up slowly, then turned toward Sasha: “Buck up there, Private! The show must go on!” He winked over his shoulder at Pushkin, then offered a hand to Sasha Soko, helping the weary young private to his bare feet.
“Who knew the floor would be so hard without boots?” Soko quipped.
“Best way to fight,” Lone Wolf responded. “No false steps. No tripping over your heels. You know exactly where you stand.”
Four hours later, Lone Wolf was facing off against an equally naked heethed champion. The veteran marine was only slightly comforted that the rules prohibited, along with striking with hard parts of the body, biting and clawing, as it was apparent his opponent would excel at these… The heethed, though not much more than half Lone Wolf’s size, was endowed with rather impressive fangs and claws.
But what made the small, somewhat furry champion a dangerous opponent was his blinding speed. He had already spilled the large, muscular marine to the sandy floor by gripping a leg and taking advantage of even the slightest momentary imbalance. Lone Wolf corrected by adjusting his footing.
The heethed champion had not tried to take advantage of those early spills, instead quickly prancing away from the downed marine and leaping with astounding agility to the top of one corner pole or another to display his fangs and hiss, spreading his arms and drinking in the screaming, fawning adulation of the large and excited crowd.
Chavez Lone Wolf took up a stance, and summoned his opponent with his fingers. The heethed spotted a momentary imbalance and raced forward to take advantage of it, only to encounter Lone Wolf’s chest, then the inside of the enormous marine’s right thigh, pushing him into Lone Wolf’s left bicep, essentially clotheslining the small, rather cat-like biped, spilling him hard onto the sand.
Lone Wolf might have been able to end the fight at this point by pinning his stunned opponent, but instead, he took a victory lap, fists in the air, bulging muscles on display, sending the crowd first into stunned silence, then roaring adulation.
For the next 30 minutes, Lone Wolf lured his opponent into one trap or another, occasionally taking a fall to allow his opponent to try for a victory lap, only to leap to his feet and hurl the heethed champion to the sand and steal his applause. In the contest between stamina and speed, Lone Wolf’s cunning prevailed.
In the following match, the oeast champion pretty much mopped the ring with the much larger and stronger, but far less experienced PFC Sasha Soko. For his part, Soko managed to stay in the fight for nearly 10 minutes, despite being thrown to the sandy floor a dozen times and finally succumbing to an obviously painful combination arm, shoulder and leg lock.
Which set up the next fight, pitting 2nd Lt. Iov Pushkin against a massive, heavily armored orseld. It was the last match for the day.
While Pushkin was a fairly big man, the nearly 400-pound orseld dwarfed him. Pushkin remembered the strategy the eadh champion had used against one of these behemoths a few days previously, but was well aware he had neither the speed, nor the ability to jump so high. So he employed another of the eadh’s strategies.
Pushkin circled his opponent, changing direction often, forcing the slower orseld to continue turning to avoid allowing the marine to get behind him. Pushkin was entirely unable to play to the crowd as his nemesis was only teasing him… Fortunately, Pushkin was wise enough not to underestimate the orseld’s reaction speed. Each time the enormous, armored champion lunged, he was just a little faster. And Pushkin was barely quick enough…
Until he wasn’t.
Pushkin would have been fast enough but the orseld, unexpectedly, came down to all fours, grasped Pushkin’s ankles and, in a single move, yanked his legs out from under him, spilling the young man to the sandy floor. The orseld champion leapt a few feet into the air and landed his armored belly heavily on the marine, driving the air from his body.
Sgt. Lone Wolf and PFC Soko leapt to their feet but were prevented from entering the ring to help their fallen comrade by a number of spear-wielding oeast.
The victorious orseld champion bellowed from atop 2nd Lt. Pushkin, eliciting screams of adulation from the vast crowd. Through all this noise, the shouted curses and threats of Lone Wolf and Soko made it to the armored champion's ears and he leapt up and stomped his way toward the young marines, forcing the oeast guards to hold the orseld champion and the marines apart at spear point.
After a few moments, during which the orseld champion went back to bellowing at his fawning crowd, Pushkin struggled to his feet and slowly hobbled out of the ring. He couldn’t stand up straight. Soko and Lone Wolf were not allowed to help him until he managed to get out of the ring.
“That was not fun,” Pushkin croaked, painfully as he accepted help from his comrades.
“Those people sure ate it up,” Soko said, looking up at the still screaming onlookers. “They really got off on you getting hurt.”
“Rough crowd,” Lone Wolf observed.
7.16