“Okay Molly, I think Cae’s finally left for…”

Ourellia stepped back into the room and found only an empty cage where Molly had once been. At first, Ourellia was confused. She briefly wondered if maybe Molly had escaped on her own and was hiding, but she rejected that idea outright. There was no point in escaping, not when Ourellia had agreed to take her back where she belonged.

Unless Molly didn’t trust her after all, but then that brought her train of thought to point out that if Molly had been capable of climbing out of the cage before, why hadn’t she?

Cautiously, Ourellia padded into the room, mindful of where she stepped. “Molly?” She whispered. “Molly, are you still in here? We can leave now…”

The only response she got was silence.

Which pretty much left only one scenario remaining.

Caetyr had taken Molly.

“Frak!” Ourellia growled in frustration. She snatched up her data pad and dialed in Ourellia’s code, stabbing at the screen with her fingers in irritation. “Frak! That frakking girl! I can’t believe…”

She watched impatiently as her ‘conencting’ image flashed on the screen. But after a moment, it disconnected again as the call was ignored.

“Oh no you don’t!” Ourellia growled, entering the code in again.

But again, the transmission was ignored. She tried a third time without success, which made her even more frustrated. She was about to try one last time when her dialing was interrupted by an alert appearing on her phone.

‘Dibilique and Iron Maiden Tied at Two Rounds Each!’ The news article screamed.

“Dibilique…” Ourellia muttered. A part of her mind insisted the idea was crazy… and yet…

“Well… slag it, what have I got to lose?”

*.*.*

Vanser showed the gatekeeper at the stadium the ticket that Lenya had procured for him.

“You’re awfully late, you know.” The young woman teased him with a grin. “Frankly, if the match hadn’t tied in regular rounds, you would have missed it entirely.”

“Wasn’t it lucky for me that they tied then?” Vanser chuckled as he ducked through the gate and into the arena.

Immediately, he was assaulted by the sight and sounds of hundreds of titans, milling about in the concourse. Titans buying merchandise, titans going to and from their seats in the Arena, Titans loudly discussing and arguing about the previous rounds of the Iron Maiden/Dibilique match. Here and there there was a Lerr or Avartle, even the occasional Dunnermac, but the crowd was majority Titan. Music and video footage blasted from the many screens hanging from the ceiling and walls.

It was an overwhelming change from the relative quiet of the street. Vanser himself began to feel crowded, so it was no wonder that he could feel the small woman in his pocket begin to tremble from the sensory overload.

He thought about leaving the arena, but a crowd had formed between him and the exit and Vanser didn’t want to shove his way through for fear of accidentally harming Charlotte.

“Damn.” He muttered, peeking into the pocket where the human was hiding. “Hold on Charlotte, I’ll find somewhere quieter… if I can…”

He quickly walked away, towards what looked like a quieter corner of the building.

He was wrong.

The second Vanser turned the corner, his eyes were assaulted by a dozen flashes of light, followed by the babbling sound of a dozen voices all trying to talk over each other. He was so disoriented that it took him a moment before he could make out what they were saying.

“Lady Tarsuss! Lady Tarssus! Over here!”

“Senator Tarsuss can we ask you a few questions about-”

“Whose dress are you wearing?”

“About Syon Fand-”

“Who are you rooting for?!”

Vanser blinked and suddenly the scene in front of him made a lot more sense. In the center of a storm of photographers, was Pryvani Tarsuss. The young heiress smiled politely at the rather intrusive journos and camera jockeys, but Vanser’s years of experience at reading body language told him a different story. Pryvani’s posture told him she was not happy in the slightest to be at the center of the media frenzy. Vanser attributed the small girl that Pryvani clutched protectively to her side to be the likely reason for her irritation.

“All right ladies and gentlemen, that’s quite enough.” The third person in the group yelled over the group of journalists. She was a young woman with tan skin. Her hair was long and black save for the blue and purple highlights framing her face. “Senator Tarsuss was on her way to escort her sister to the bathroom, nothing more. If you’d like to arrange an interview, you know how to contact the Public Relations and Press department of her company.”

The rabble, however, didn’t look like they were prepared to disperse.

“Senator Tarsuss!”

“How do you feel about…”

“How much did those shoes cost?”

“…Make a statement about…”

Vanser rolled his eyes and sighed. Reporters. He pressed his fingers to his lips and let loose with a loud high pitched whistle that lasted several seconds and was very affective in quieting the mob and getting their attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” He projected in his most authoritative voice, while clearly showing his Imperator badge. “I appreciate you are only trying to do your jobs, but the lady has asked that you move along. I would therefore, suggest that you do so before I have cause to consider this to be harassment. Do I make myself clear?”

The mob dispersed fairly quickly after that.

“Thank you very much, Imperator Nix.” Pryvani sighed gratefully. “I’m very fortunate you came along when you did.”

“No problem whatsoever.” Vanser smiled. “Although to be honest, part of that was to get them out of my way as well.”

Pryvani’s brow knit in confusion.

“I have a friend with me who is a little overwhelmed by all the noise.” Vanser explained, carefully covering his pocket with his hand.

Pryvani nodded. “I see. Poor thing must be scared half to death by all… this.” She smiled, as if struck by a sudden inspiration. “I have just the thing. You can use my personal box. It’s empty at the moment as I’ve been viewing the match from elsewhere, so it should be nice and quiet for you.” She reached into her handbag, withdrew a small plastic access card and then pressed it into Vanser’s hand.

“Oh, Senator, I couldn’t…” Vanser muttered.

“Nonsense. Think nothing of it.” Pryvani said airily. “After all your help with the situation with my mother this is the least I can do. Besides, I just can’t stand to see a human in such distress. And as I said I’m not currently using it so someone should.”

Vanser felt Charlotte’s weight in his pocket keenly, and realized that Pryvani was right. If nothing else, it would be quiet. So, smiling resignedly, Vanser gingerly took the access card from Pryvani’s perfectly manicured fingers.

“Thank you so much, Senator.”

“Please, call me Pryvani, dear.” The heiress smiled. “And you’re welcome. Now, it’s on the second floor, northeast corner, red section. The one marked Ishay Gamma eighty-eight.”

“Thank you, again, Pryvani.”

“Enjoy the match, darling.” Pryvani called over her shoulder as she and her entourage began to walk away. “And feel free to help yourself to any of the refreshments stocked inside!”

Vanser watched as Pryvani turned the corner, before quickly making his way towards the section of the Stadium that Pryvani had directed him to.

“Ishay Gamma eighty-five…” Vanser muttered, counting the doors to the private boxes in the red section as he sped down the corridor. “Eighty-six, eighty-seven… Eighty-eight!” He pressed the access card Pryvani had given him against the door lock, and was still somewhat shocked when the indicator light flashed green and the door in front of him quietly slid open.

As he stepped inside the spacious room, the lights turned on automatically. Directly in front of him was a three panel viewing window. The center panel was a straight view to outside the box, while the panels on either side were zoomed-in on the (currently empty) arena floor, which was being swarmed by maintenance crews as they worked to set up the combat area.

“Charlotte?” Vanser whispered, gently opening the lip to his pocket and peeking in on the human inside. “Are you okay now? It’s just us in here, you can come out if you want to.”

Taking a deep breath, Charlotte stood up in Vanser’s pocket and then carefully climbed out into his waiting palm. Slowly, she pulled herself into a sitting position and looked around, letting out a low whistle.

“Wow…” She mumbled as her eyes widened. “Would you look at this place? It’s huge!”

“Yeah…” Vanser replied, shaking his head bemusedly. “It was really nice of Pr… Senator Tarsuss to let us use it.”

Charlotte sighed. “Yeah, um, sorry Vanser for earlier… I guess I just sort of lost it with all the noise.”

“You don’t have to apologize. The crowd was almost too much for me, and I’m trained in riot dispersal. Not to mention I wasn’t surrounded by beings a hundred times my size.”

“It’s not that.” Charlotte sighed. “Well, no, that was part of it but it’s not the whole thing. I’m just antsy to keep searching for Molly. I hate being here, safe, when she’s who knows where.”

Charlotte wiped a tear from her eye. “I just miss her. She’s the last thing I have from my life… before… and, well I go on about how I protected her but… the truth is I probably needed her more than she needed me.”

“We’ll find her.” Vanser promised. “She and I promised to find you, and we did. So there you go.”

Charlotte looked up at him and smiled through the tears in her eyes. “You know… this may seem weird, but thanks for chasing after Lenya, Vanser.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, the thing is, you didn’t know Lenya. You didn’t know she never meant to harm me… the fact is you didn’t know me, (Or Molly, for that matter) and you were under no obligation to take care of her, let alone go harrying across the galaxy to try and rescue me. If… well, if Lenya had meant to harm me… it, um, it’s just nice to know that you cared.”

Charlotte’s sentence petered out into a mumble, and she felt her face flush. She looked down at her shoes until she felt a light touch at her back.

She looked up into Vanser’s eyes and found that his face had suddenly gotten a lot closer.

“I…”

His sentence never got any further than that, because Charlotte suddenly closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his.

*.*.*

The roar of the stadium filled Lenya’s ears as she looked up from the arena floor. Being on the floor was disorienting and a little surreal. She was far more used to being above, in the control box, looking down on the floor.

She wondered, with wry amusement, if this was how the holographic soldiers she sent into battle viewed the world.

Still, she drank in the sound of the spectators, absorbed their energy and their enthusiasm. She was dressed in her battle armor, except for the helmet which was currently tucked under her arm. She knew that once she put the helmet on her head the world would go mute.

In order to keep her identity concealed, she’d traded her traditional domino mask (which would get fouled up under her helmet) for one painted on with makeup.

The tone of the crowd shifted and she turned to see Iron Maiden, helmet already in place, step into the circle.

Dibilique inclined her head in greeting and slid her helmet over her head, locking it into place.

Instantly the roar of the crowd muted and the only sound she could hear was her own breathing. Her vision was narrowed to what was directly in front of her, her opponent.

She stepped to the outer ring of the fighting area and waited for the signal to start. The ringside officiator waved a red flag to get the attention of the combatants, and both nodded to signal their readiness.

A sharp downward thrust of the flag was the signal to begin.

Instantly, Dibilique was on guard. She and her opponent circled warily, each searching for an opening. Dibilique’s nerves were jumpy and she was tempted to go on the offense just for the sake of getting things started but she forced herself to stay calm. Getting impatient and being sloppy was precisely what Iron Maiden wanted her to do.

Finally, her patience was rewarded as Iron Maiden suddenly launched into an offensive strike. Dibilique saw the fist coming straight for her face and quickly dodged to the side. Iron Maiden’s second fist came at her torso but Dibilique turned to the side and Iron Maiden’s attack grazed harmlessly across her chest.

Before the Maiden could recover from the miss, Dibilique grabbed the taller woman’s arm and spun to the side, placing her heel behind the Maiden’s own and shoving her in the chest as hard as she could. Iron Maiden fell off balance and landed on the floor of the Arena.

Dibilique was sure the crowd was reacting to the fact she just grounded the Maiden, but of course Dibilique couldn’t hear it. Nor did she have time to relish in the small victory because Iron Maiden quickly recovered from the fall and was back on her feet, and fully on the offensive.

It was all Dibilique could do to stave off the suddenly savage onslaught of her opponent. Iron Maiden’s punches came hard and fast and Dibilique was lucky if she could dodge two in every three of them. The kinetic armor the both wore absorbed most of the shock of each blow, but she knew that every hit landed was a point scored against her.

She backed away from the attack and tried to recollect herself. Iron Maiden pressed the attack until Dibilique found an opening. One of Iron Maiden’s attacks over extended and left her vulnerable. Dibilique quickly spun out of her opponent’s reach and around behind her.

Smiling to herself, Dibilique drew her hand back to land a blow on the exact center of Iron Maiden’s back, right on her spine. But then, displaying an uncanny speed for someone her size, Iron Maiden turned around and grabbed her forearm with one hand, and then braced her other hand right on Dibilique’s sternum.

Lenya’s eyes widened as she realized she’d been caught in a trap. Before she could move, Iron Maiden had heaved her bodily into the air, and slammed her back to the ground with enough force to literally rattle her bones.

The armor again absorbed a lot of the attack’s force, but still Dibilique’s vision swam. She was aware enough to see the red warning lights flashing at the corners of her vision. As far as the game was concerned, Iron Maiden had just dealt the killing blow.

Lenya sighed and shook her head. Just like that, she was out of the tournament. Still, if one had to go out, there was no shame in being beaten by one of the best.

She accepted the Iron Maiden’s proffered hand and was hauled back to her feet. She quickly undid the latch on her helmet and pulled it off, grateful to be breathing fresh air again at least.

“You did well.” Iron Maiden’s electronically altered voice buzzed from her helmet, her blank faceplate obscuring any and all expression. “Korafian wind-dancing is a difficult style to master.”

Lenya sighed ruefully and shook her head. “No match for Jotnar bahrsark, apparently.”

Iron Maiden shrugged. “Few things are, when you’re the best.” With that the current champion turned and walked from the arena, and Lenya was left to wonder if she’d been teased or if Iron Maiden really was that arrogant.

*.*.*.*

Twenty minutes later, Dibilique stepped out of the preparation room. She’d changed out of her armor and back into her normal costume. There’d be reporters who would want a picture or a statement from her.

“Good fight out there.”

Lenya turned around to find Vanser right behind her. “You saw that huh?” She sighed. “Not my finest moment.”

Vanser shrugged. “Well, not many people can stand against Iron Maiden in hand to hand combat. She has been doing this for some time, after all.”

“So have I.” Lenya muttered.

“You didn’t do too bad, thunder-thighs.” Charlotte teased from her spot in Vanser’s pocket. “Now come on, now that this tol-bot stuff is done with, we still got important work to do.”

“Right.” Lenya muttered. “First I have to make it through the press gauntlet.”

*.*.*.*

Ourellia watched the giant screens that hung from the outside of the stadium. They were currently showing an instant replay of Iron Maiden delivering the killing blow against Dibilique. Ourellia knew that meant that Dibilique would likely be leaving the arena soon. She circled around to the back of the stadium where a gaggle of journalists and reporters, just waiting for their prey to arrive.

Ourellia waited impatiently alongside them, fully aware that the longer this took, the further away Caetyr got with Molly.

Finally, the stadium door opened and Dibilique walked out, flanked by a tall young man in a black coat. Immediately, the camera jockeys and journalists came to life shouting questions and snapping photos with their recorders and pads.

“Dibilique! Dibilique over here!”

“Dibilique how does it feel to…”

“What do you think…”

“…The Puppetmaster is really…”

Ourellia was pushed to the back of the group by the mob. She needed to get Dibilique’s attention, but couldn’t make herself heard over the din.

“Dibilique! I need to talk to you!” Ourellia shouted. “I need to talk to you about Molly! MOLLY!”

Dibilique suddenly stopped and looked in Ourellia’s direction, eyes wide with surprise.

Ourellia waved in relief at having gotten the Tol-bot star’s attention.

Now they were getting somewhere.