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Lars - The Fight — Description

Lars bit back a curse as she squinted out through the cracks in the wooden pen she had been herded into. No need to let them know she had a view of what was going on, be it a very limited view.
Whatever they had been doing was supposed to be a big deal, The Thorn had apparently paid someone a freak tun of caps to redo the arena. That and they had put up some serious power poles. Even cramped in her box she could smell the ozone burning the air. The smell was enough to make her nostrils twitch, and make her hand close and unclose reflexively. No, electricity was a bad sign, but beyond that she couldn’t say more.
Besides the ozone, the smell of stone dust was in the air, mingled with the metallic taste of blasting powder, dynamite, she could taste it on her tongue. That didn’t bode well with her either.
Having had nothing but time to kill and guards to scream at, Lars was running on a short fuse. A few good kicks and she could be out of this stupid box, the only issue was the leg irons. That would hobble her, and make any kind of escape difficult.
She could escape, she was sure of it, but escapes were all about patience and timing. If you acted too soon, you sacrificed the element of surprise, you sacrifice the element of surprise, and it would be game over.
So, she waited. Two more games, two more victories and she would be able to repay her debt to The Thorne. Just two more ventures into the arena.
“Think of yourself as a gladiator.” Her handler had told her as she was stuffed into the crate. “It has a lot better ring to it than slave.”
She had nearly bitten his face off at those words. Only the liberal use of several shock mauls, and the eventual threat of her collar being detonated had restrained her. Having had time to think about it, she was pretty sure she understood what had gone wrong.
Apparently, it was a grievous crime to kill the reigning champion. Maybe that was what that rat faced reprobate had been trying to tell her before she had mashed his skull against the side of the wall after he had grabbed her from behind.
Later, through bits and pieces she caught from the guards she had pieced together most of the story, or enough to understand her roll in it. She had been supposed to lose that match, throw the fight and let the crowd favorite beat her down. Apparently she had been winning too much.
Worse, through some back channels, apparently deals had been cut, deals involving a lot of caps. And when she failed to lose, those deals fell through, and a lot of caps ended up flowing out from the Thorn rather than into its coffers.
Lars blew out a contemptuous snort. It hadn’t been her fault.
Closing her eyes she could still see the match paying out, beat for beat, as clear as the sky she was being denied. She had entered the arena, her opponent had likewise. Rather than squaring off with her though, he had hurled a concussion grenade her direction and for several blinding seconds her entire world had devolved into a lightshow of blinding spheres and sound.
Her eyes and ears were useless, and she could only tell where her opponent was when he landed a blow, a lot of blows. Falling back, she had played defensively, always on the move, sweeping her legs back feeling the ground with her hooves.
She had to keep moving, that was the key. Keep moving and don’t let him back you into a corner. Shaking her head she tried to clear away the dancing light, she could almost half see, and what she saw she didn’t like. Though they were nothing but blurs she knew the smell of them as their mechanically augmented forms came loping up through the haze: Cyber hounds!
Snarling a curse of her own, she had lunged forward, using her superior reach to grapple, throw, and dodge any of the three pairs of snapping jaws that came at her. The next few seconds were a blur, a wild dance of hoof vs jaws. She kicked, they bit, they clawed, she punched. Screaming incoherently she remembered one of the dogs closing its jaws around her arm, she had interposed it a fraction of a second before it could rip out her throat! Just as its jaws had begun to close she had driven her combat knife into the reinforced glass brain case and watched as the dogs skull erupted in a flash of sparks and blue medical fluid. The jaws had spasmed, sinking deep into the flesh of her arm and ripping through muscles before she was able to shake the thing off!
The other two dogs where circling her, closing in from either side, her left arm was useless. Waiting to the last minute she ducked, throwing herself forward and shouldering the first hound, using her blade to drive deep into its side. Her free hand got ahold of the snarling dogs muzzle keeping the jaws inches from her face! As she fell she rotated, slamming the dog’s back against the detritus cluttering the room and was momentarily surprised when it emitted a terrible whine and jerked about underneath her, had she impaled something – no time to think about it.
The other was upon her, without thinking she spun, grappling the dog with both hands even as her arms screamed in protest! Her fingers sinking deeply into its fur as it tried to bite her face off!
Screaming into the beast’s face she hurled it aside just in time to take a knife to the ribs. Her scream changed from one of rage to one of pain as the metal glanced off her rib and the wielder drew the blade back and plunged it back in, this time he did not miss. Blinding pain shot through her chest as the knife bit into her side and she groped about for the hand wielding the blade in a mad fury. Snapping at the wrist she rolled away, ensnaring the arm and giving it a violent jerk! With the snapping of bone the knife flew from trembling fingers. Cursing wildly, Lars had half a heartbeat before she was being driven back by the snapping jaws of the remaining dog.
Back pedaling she managed to hook her hand into the dog’s collar, and fueled by adrenalin, heaved it over her head before reversing its accent and drove it down into the unyielding stone below her hooves.
Gasping for breath, she staggered to her feet, something wasn’t right inside. She pressed her hand to the wound, her fingers coming away wet and sticky.
Lars didn’t know what made her pause, maybe it was the displacement of the air, a vibration through the stone, or an inhalation of breath before the killing strike. Whatever had warned her she heeded the call and dove forwards into a roll, her side screaming at her as the blade meant to decapitate her whistled over her back instead. She barely had time to react before the man was upon her, closing the distance, forcing her to retreat and cutting off her exits as she turned to face her attacker.
A mad gleam was in the man’s eye, and as she winced parrying his blow with her forearm, she knew the blade had to be poisoned. Though she couldn’t yet feel it, she was sure, there was something in the man’s twisted smile, a certainty that she misliked upon sight of it.
Several more blows landed in quick succession, she dodged, parried right, twisted, but the man was fast, cutting off her retreat and seeming to sense her moves before she could make them. He was good, there was no doubt there, and fast too. Almost as fast as she – the blade licked across her shoulder slicing through the flesh there as she jerked her neck back. With a pang of leather cord she found her top fluttering free to the applauding of the crowd.
Uttering a curse, she flew into an assault of her own, driving back with a relentless assault of fist and hooves. The latter the man deftly avoided, while parrying her own strikes with his blade opening up half a dozen shallow cuts across her forearms. The bandages on her arm blooming like red flowers with each strike.
She would strike, he would dance back, slice and parry, he was bleeding her, and she knew it. He didn’t intend to fight her, not any longer, no he was going to let her slow – and then strike, or…
“Enough of this!” Lars bellowed, throwing herself at the man, her fingers curled like claws as she flew forward. It was just what the man wanted, he ducked, rolling with his shoulder as he thrust upwards with his blade aiming to gut her, and would have, if she had been there.
The second the man had begun to roll, she had twisted, grinding her hoof into the dirt and throwing herself to the side. The angle was bad, she knew it, but it was enough – splaying her hands she caught her body weight mid-landing and thrust back hard! Her wounds screamed, and she swore something snapped loose inside her as she drove back with both hooves.
For a moment she feared she had miscalculated, missed her mark, or that her opponent had slithered out of her reach. Only to feel the solid mass as her hoof connected with a satisfying smack!
A string of gasps, oohs, and groans erupted from the audience as she fell hard, even as she clenched her abbs to try and cushion the blow, the wind was knocked out of her. Not caring, Lars rolled, sliding both hands under her and pushing herself up with a start. She was on her feet and closing just as the man, sprawled out before her jammed his hand into the small of his back.
Time slowed to a crawl, she could smell it before she saw it. The slow ozone like stick of a superheated plasma pistol coming to charge. She pushed herself forwards, blood smeared her face, her side was screaming, her footing – traction, hooves slipping.
“Die!” The man was screaming as the hold out plasma caster snapped with its single charge coil unleashing a greenish burst of superheated energy. “Die you –“
The rest of the words were lost, a roaring sound had filled her ears, and Lars let herself fall, she was falling oh so slowly. She watched, she could see the undulating sphere of green plasma moving towards her, its surface rippling slowly distorting as it wobbled on its trajectory towards her. Slowly, oh so slowly she fell, a blink, she could see the man’s expression, a mixture of rage twisting into – regret? No. Disappointment. Followed by fear.
Her hands hit the stone first, followed by her chest, and time snapped into double overdrive. There was a blast of heat, and sizzling rock pelted her back! She was scrambling, snarling, incoherent with rage, he had pulled a plasma pistol on her! A plasma pistol!
Someone was going to pay for this! And she had a good idea who she would start with. The man cursing, leveled the pistol at her as she scrabbled forward on all fours, there would be no missing this time, but it didn’t matter. Grinning a malevolent smile of her own, she allowed herself to savor the man’s shock as he squeezed the trigger only for the pistol to emit a whine of protest.
“Cool down.” Lars almost laughed, as with a single strike she bashed the pistol from the campion’s hand, the delicate circuitry flying to pieces. “Stripped down, the heating vents –“
She brought both fists down upon his chest sending him sprawling back. “Overload –“
Her fists came down again, the man spasmed, his eyes going wide as she let her full weight land upon his chest. “And – can’t, recharge fast…”
It was getting too hard to form words, her breath wasn’t working right. “Plasma…”
Driving her fists down again, she heard a satisfying crunch as her vision began to fade around the edges. Poisoned, a small voice whispered in her ear. Poisoned.
“Not – fucker…”
Drawing up her fist she brought her entire weight down upon her attacker, and the world went black.