Xynth Arena was the smallest of the three venues in the Vorsha Colonial Tol-Bot Complex, and that only made sense. This was a match between the 50th-ranked player in the Empire and a rookie qualifier. While it was sold out – they were all sold out – it didn’t have the draw of the match finishing up over in Usius Arena, where fourth-ranked Spirit was taking it to 13th ranked Tank. And of course, the match everyone wanted to see would start in the Grand Arena not long after; Iron Maiden was facing off against 16th-ranked Dibilique, the only real challenge the defending champ faced in the first round.
 
Still, Darren couldn’t help but feel a bit awed as he waited on his side of the arena, held in Eyrn’s hand, the ropes she would “control” him with slack above him. Fourteen thousand people, all of them bigger than Eyrn, were waiting for his arrival.
 
“Your attention, Tol-Bot fans,” the announcer called. “Welcome to the 2102 Grand Tribute!”
 
The crowd roared its approval, as the lights came up. The woman doing the announcing stood at the center of the arena, where the game board itself would be projected. “Welcome to today’s Group 3 matchup. First, let us introduce the challenger.”
 
This would be Eyrn and Darren. Tol-Bot Matches always had a “challenger” and “defender.” These didn’t mean much save for identification purposes; they were a vestige of the times when Tol-Bot was fought by a challenging army. Now, the terms mainly defined who was the higher and lower ranked player. And The PuppetMaster ranked lower than all but one of the combatants in the Tribute.
 
“The challenger is unranked, and here as a novice qualifier, having won the Novice Playdown. Playing out of Archavia, the dazzling, the defiant, PuppetMaster!”
 
They came in to an Archavian military song that had just enough of an eerie undercurrent to make the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Darren had wanted something from Earth, and so had Eyrn, but they’d argued for a good long time over the relative merits of songs (Eyrn favored “Enter the Gladiators,” or maybe “Hound Dog,” while Darren wanted “The Army Rolls Along” or perhaps “Master of Puppets”) before Tapp had pointed out that choosing an Earth song would essentially identify the duo.
 
Besides, they didn’t need music. Eyrn had her bracelets off, and she made the most of it, doing flips into the arena in the style of a trampoline artist. Darren closed his eyes and bore it; he knew that Eyrn had to win the fans over. Still, he hoped his lunch settled before the match began.
 
As the crowd’s cheers subsided, the music faded, and a new song began, a set of tribal drums. “Now, for the defender, a first-time qualifier for the Grand Tribute playing out of Archavia, ranked fiftieth in the Archavian Tol-Bot Federation, the fantastic, the phenomenal, Feltree!”
 
Darren’s opponent bounded into the arena, working the crowd, as a small set of fireworks went off. She was dressed in brightly-colored feathers, and birdsong now wove its way into the drumbeat, completing the ensemble. She took the cheers in stride, and came to the middle like a horse in the starting gate, ready to run.
 
“Good afternoon,” the announcer said to both, “we’re playing a standard Tourney Match, four rounds, no playoff, we play matches to the end regardless of standing after the third round. Rounds will be played in this order: Land, Sea, Air, Space. Challenger, ready?”
 
Eyrn jerked Darren up, and moved the strings. “Ready,” Darren said.
 
“Defender ready?”
 
“Ready,” the feather-clad woman said.
 
“All right, to your boards. Good luck.”
 
The woman nodded to Eyrn and smiled slightly at Darren, before she bounded back to her controls. Darren felt his stomach lurch once more as Eyrn took one giant leap, landing behind them and spinning, and moving Darren, her puppet, onto the board.
 
This wasn’t as easy as it looked. The board was designed for someone Eyrn’s size. And though Darren had gotten used to running it, he couldn’t just run across the board – he and Eyrn needed to sell the idea that he was, in fact, her puppet.
 
“All right,” Darren said. “Ready, Twat?”
 
“Ready,” Eyrn said. She felt more nervous than Darren. She knew she was there as window dressing, however much she might tease Darren. She’d never admit to him, and barely admit to herself, that she was terrified of doing something that would cost him the match.
 
There was no time to dwell on their fears, though, as the senior match official called, “Stand ready.”
 
And the field spawned.
 
Darren looked it over immediately as it rolled into existence. Tanks, artillery, infantry, weapons depots, even medical facilities popping into view almost immediately. He saw his forces were defending a hilly area, while his opponent was attacking it; the objective was laid out for both. Darren had to hold the line and force a retreat; Felltree had to punch through the line and move her forces through to the other side with less than 50 percent casualties.
 
Darren had a slightly smaller force as a counterbalance to his superior tactical position; that didn’t surprise him. The AI would always try to balance the scales so that an attacker had more soldiers at their disposal.
 
Darren smiled as he looked over the field. “All right,” he said. “Gettysburg.”
 
“Huh?” Eyrn said.
 
“Oh, it’s a bit different, but this looks a helluva lot like the layout for Gettysburg. North kicked the South’s ass. And we’re playing the side of the North.”
 
“You know, my dad was on….”
 
“Yeah, you’ve told me, First Minnesota, took Pickett’s charge. I ever get back to Texas, I’ll deny it, Twat,” he said, looking up at her with a grin, “but it was better for everyone your dad was there. Now, let’s try to get through this with fewer casualties than the First took.”
 
Darren let Eyrn move him around the board; he moved his troops around, set his line, moved his armored carriers into a defensive position. He could see that Felltree was set up unbalanced, and if she was moving patiently, she would work to fix that, giving him time to dig in.
 
Of course, she knew that too, and so she suddenly sprung an attack off her weakest line. Had to be a feint, but it was a damn convincing one. Darren moved his forces to counter, and the game was on.
 
They fought for almost five hours, Felltree pushing hard against Darren’s lines, cracking through the first rank several times and the second twice. But each time, Darren was able to react and have his forces fall back to absorb the blow, and each time Felltree was forced to retreat and regroup. Finally, her forces tried one desperate charge, which sent her casualties over fifty percent, giving the first round victory to PuppetMaster.
 
“See, Twat?” he said as Eyrn pulled him off the board and waved to the crowd. “Nothin’ to it.”
 
“Yeah, you’re not having to keep the crowd on our side,” Eyrn said, fiddling with her costume as they walked to the break area. “I’m gonna have to talk to the Princess, this is not working well.”
 
“Jus’ keep me in the mix,” Darren said. “I think we’re gonna win this one.”
 
They didn’t.
 
Darren fought to a near-draw in the Sea round, but he was unable to break Felltree’s blockade. The air battle was not particularly close, and the space battle – well, Darren wanted to blame the quick defeat on the fact that Eyrn had managed to tangle her costume and the “strings” into a gigantic knot, but in truth, he knew it was because he’d attacked Felltree’s ships in a line, and she’d gone right under him. A stupid rookie mistake, one nobody from the Empire would make. In the end, PuppetMaster went down 3-1 to Felltree in twelve hours, which was much better than most sports books expected, but not nearly good enough for Darren.
 
 
****
 
Eyrn attempted to keep as still as possible as she stood before the large full-body mirror. Currently she couldn’t see or hear Tapp, who was repairing a tear in one of the many lace frills that adorned the flashy uniform. She could however hear, and see Darren, who was pacing back and forth furiously on the counter top beside her.
 
“A loss is a loss gat’danget, it don’t matter how close the dang game was!” Darren grumbled.
 
“Well, it wasn’t that bad…is all I’m saying.” Degu shrugged, following Darren with his eyes as the costumed Sergeant wiggled and tore in his confined.
 
“Damn hell Twat get these goddam ropes off me!” Darren shot Degu another look. “Shot in the head or the gut is still a loss!”
 
“Stop fighting or you’ll tangle it Darren.” Eyrn suppressed a giggle. “Here let me….”
 
“Don’t you move yo-jumbo! Holy hell you’ve torn this thing to bits with your oversized rear end! This was a work of art and you’ve treated it like tissue paper!” Tapp hissed as she repelled down from Eyrn’s shoulder to her back.
 
“My what?” Eyrn stiffened, resisting the urge to back her “oversized rear end” into the ornery little woman. “And stop copying Darren…hell if I need two grumpy Texans.”
 
“Gat’danget how’d this one get tangled now!” Darren cussed as the marionette strings continued to bind him further.
 
“Stop moving you’re making it worse!” Bedra spoke from across the hotel room, closing the gap between them so she could assist Darren.
 
“Look at this…what did you do, run a marathon!” Tapp swung around to the front of the Puppet Master, landing on a small platform set there for her to stand on. With hands on her hips she shook her head and let out a tortured sigh. “You’re not going to win a single game looking like a damn hobo!”
 
“Will you get off my back ‘princess’? It’s not easy prancing around before an arena full of blood thirsty hounds wrapped up like a mummy covered in lace and ribbons!” Eyrn responded in turn, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring down at Tapp, who returned her glare.
 
“People like the look Eyrn, don’t trash talk the look!” Tapp responded, looking rather insulted in the process.
 
“Stop wiggling, you’re making it worse!” Bedra sighed as she struggled to free the thrashing Darren.
 
“Who taught you how to untie a knot, Smiles!?” Darren shouted as he gave Bedra’s thumb a wack.
 
“Oh very mature Darren! Hit me, that’ll get you out faster!” Bedra grumbled, setting Darren down and raising her hands in frustration.
 
“Stop yelling both of you!” Degu said as he approached Darren and began to assist him in untangling the knots. “She’s only trying to help you know.”

Darren crossed his arms just like Eyrn and made a sour face.
 
“Look, you lost, okay? Big deal. I don’t see how having a tantrum is going to make it any better,” Degu said, pulling one of the strings out of a loop and working on the next. Bedra’s fingers were too big to work the small knots Darren had formed from his pacing and struggling.
 
“It’s just one game, you can still advance if you win your next few games…one lost won’t disqualify you Darren.” Bedra added, taking a moment to calm herself.
 
“Look, can’t you do something about mobility Tapp? It’s hard to be flashy and animated when I have to worry about tearing this thing, also I can hardly breathe half the time, does it have to be so tight?” Eyrn tried to follow Tapp with her eyes as the tiny human climbed up her arm and down the length of her torso using ropes and such Tapp had placed there for her own convenience.
 
“There’s nothing wrong with the costume! Just stop being a clutz!” Tapp hissed.
 
Eyrn groaned and soured her look up.
 
“But…maybe you could use a new look…I mean this is the Tribute…can’t have you mucking around in the same old tired rags you use for the qualifier.” Tapp relented, landing on Eyrn’s shoulder.
 
Eyrn could feel the rage sub siding, and looked over to Tapp with a half-smile. “I wouldn’t call them rags.”
 
“It was the first game gat’danget! The first fucking game!” Darren shouted, eager to be free of the marionette costume he was confined to.
 
“Did you think this was going to be easy?” Bedra said, taking a seat.
 
“Of course I didn’t! But I didn’t think I’d lose the first dang game.”
 
“Well you did, and maybe you’ll lose the next game too, you’re up against people who have been doing this their entire lives., This is the Grand Tribute Darren…you have to expect a whole new level of difficult.” Bedra leaned towards Darren and crossed her arms onto the table.
 
“Felltree won, but it was a close game Darren.” Degu finished with the string he was working on and began on the next. “Just try harder next time.”
 
“Degu’s right, Felltree won, don’t worry about her, your next match is against Reefsman. Felltree was hard, Reefsman is going to be infinitely more difficult,” Bedra approached, crouching down and pulling out her data pad. “Look, Felltree ranks 50, that’s bottom of the barrel – well, at least for a tribute player. Now, Reefsman, he ranks third overall. He lost in the final last year. He’s faster, he’s better and he’s been playing a lot longer,” Bedra brought up the players stats on her pad and allowed Darren to see.
 
“So, what you’re saying is I’m fucked?” Darren groaned, running his free hand over his face.
 
“No, what I’m saying is you don’t have time to get all butt-hurt over a loss to Felltree, because Reefsman should be all you eat, breathe, and drink for the next two days.” Bedra locked eyes with Darren, setting her hands on either side of them both.
 
“Every once and a while Smiles, you actually kinda sound like you know what the hell you’re talking about,” Darren chuckled.
 
“I’ve been watching games since I was three, I don’t think I could ever play, but I like to follow player stats,” Bedra shrugged.
 
“I watch too.” Degu commented as he pulled another string loose. “But stats are boring, I like the fights, you know…how everyone moves around the playing field, the different tricks the players use to fool their enemy!” Degu’s voice teemed with excitement.
 
“A strategy man eh Mop-head?” Darren was slowly calming now, as the ropes that bonded him slowly released their hold him. While he had taken well to the game, and learnt it much faster than most, Darren still had a lot to learn. Lucky for him, his friends seemed to have a wealth of knowledge for him to sift through.
 
“You try to be too many places. I saw your game with Felltree, you move around too much.” Degu stepped back as the strings were at last untangled.
 
“It’s a bit overwhelming really, there’s so much to look at, so much to keep track of, and everything’s so dang big.” Darren grumbled, he hadn’t the chance to unstrap himself before he felt his puppet strings got taut. His world whisked by, and soon he found himself dangling before Bedra’s bright brilliant face.
 
“That’s just it though Darren, stop doing that. Stop trying to be everywhere, stop letting how big everything is trick you. Tol-Bot is a game of the mind and your mind is just as keen as anyone else’s.” Bedra narrowed her eyes at the limp dangling human puppet.
 
“I don’t see what yer getting at.” Darren grumbled, knowing better than to struggle and tangle himself up all over again.
 
Bedra sighed and danced Darren around using the control bar. “You don’t need to be everywhere, you don’t need to be .90 units tall. You have an advantage no one else has, you have a partner. Let Eyrn do her job and you just focus on yours. The game isn’t designed to micro manage…there’s way too much to do! You’re a human and you can think fast, but not that fast. The pros can think fast too, that’s why Felltree beat you.”
 
Darren eyed Bedra, with a mix of annoyance and understanding. She was actually making sense, it almost forgave her abuse of his marionette costume.
 
“They are the best because they can think faster and better than everyone else.” Degu spoke up, watching Darren dangle above.
 
“Reefsman won’t spend time making sure all his units are doing what he told them to do, he decides on a strategy then takes on the most important objective personally, while his leader units worry about the small stuff. If you are running back and forth worrying about every little thing….”
 
“You’ll lose.” Degu shrugged.
 
Darren nodded. “Hell, I walked right into every one of Felltree’s traps. She knew I was spreading myself to thin.”
 
Bedra gave Darren a bit of a shake and leaned in closer, raising her voice for effect. “Stop worrying about Felltree and start worrying about Reefsman!”
 
“Learn from your mistakes and move on.” Degu added.
 
“Alright, alright! Damn hell Smiles yer gonna scramble my brains if you’re not careful!” Darren cursed as he took a swing at Bedra, and missed.
 
“Everyone loses, it’s just one game.” Bedra smiled, straightening up.
 
“Right.” Darren agreed. There was a bit of a pause as Bedra seemed to study him for a while. “You…can put me down any time smiles.”
 
Bedra giggled and pranced Darren around on his strings a bit. “I don’t know, this is kind of fun!”
 
“Right!?” Eyrn said from across the room.
 
“Tapp, can you make me one of these for Degu?” Bedra winked down at Degu.
 
“I most certainly can.” Tapp said, hidden somewhere in Eyrn’s frilly outfit.
 
“Like hell you can! She’s just as likely to use it on you too ya know!” Degu protested.
 
“She wouldn’t dare!” Tapp protested, her voice muffled.
 
Eyrn winked. “I’ll let you borrow it when were done.”
 
“I know where both of ya’ll sleep, and you lot sleep long and hard!” Darren grumbled, abandoning his futile struggles. “Now go on! Let me down!”
 
Bedra sighed and set Darren on his feet, carefully helping him out of the costume. “You’re no fun.”
 
“I know, right!?” Eyrn added, trying not to move as she felt the tiny woman moving about under her shirt.
 
“Stop talking, your whole body shakes when you do!” Tapp protested.
 
Eyrn said not a word, but moved her hand over where she could felt Tapp crawling around and pretended as if she was going to flatten out the tiny lump with her hand, making a sour face at the ornery little woman.
 
Bedra chuckled and shook her head.
 
“I saw that!” Tapp snapped.
 
Eyrn stuck her tongue out.

Bedra took her pad in hand and swiped through the news feed, her eyes lit up suddenly and she crouched down next to Darren, invading his bubble rather abruptly.
 
“Gah…where’d you come from!” Darren cursed, dropping the cigar he had just lit up.
 
“You’re not going to believe this Darren!” Bedra said as she shoved the data pad in Darren’s face.
 
Darren backed up a little, he had no time for anger however as his eyes ran over the words on the screen.
 
“Well…damn hell!”
 
***

“I don’t see why we have to sit here.” Dr. Naill Freeman groaned as he paced back and forth along glass surface of the spacious end table beside the sofa.
 
“It’s safe here.” Nonah said as she continued to file her nails, not paying attention much to what was going on in the room.
 
“Safe? Balls! What are we, helpless animals?” Niall shouted, waving his arms as he spoke.
 
“Mhmmm.” Nonah hummed casually.
 
“Why do they get to sit over there, why can’t we sit with them?! This is ridiculous!” Niall walked to the end of the table and looked onward to where Naskia and Loona were sitting on the sofa. Naskia was confined to one small couch cushion, while Loona took up the rest, sitting on her knees leaning forward almost falling off the couch. 
 
“Never watched Tol-Bot with Loony before…have you?” Nonah asked calmly.
 
Niall, not quite paying attention rambled on. “I’m going over there! I can go where I please after all, I’m nobody’s pet!”
 
Before Niall could step off the table onto the couch arm, Nonah yanked him by the shirt and pulled him down to where she was sitting, in a rater placid and almost careless tone she said, “Don’t go over there.”
 
“Don’t tell me where I can and can’t go Nonah!” Niall protested, but no sooner had the words escaped his lips did he witness the reason he and Nonah were sitting off to the side.
 
“She lost!” Loona screamed, clinching her fists and pulling at the couch cushions!
 
“Did we just witness the beginning of the end for the Iron Maiden?” A dark skinned male newscaster spoke alongside a panel of other broadcaster’s on the evening wrap-up feed.
 
“That was indeed a dismal performance from the Champ, I don’t think her head was in the game at all Yuldo,” A female with bright orange hair and matching eyes turned to face the man who had just spoke.
 
“It’s not like Iron Maiden to fall apart like that, but even her victory in the Land phase was unremarkable at best.” A third man spoke.
 
“I don’t know, I think we can expect big things from the Maiden yet, it’s hard to pull off a win when the crowds are not on your side. There’s a lot of bitterness from hard core fans resulting from her Parley,” a second woman spoke, with a diplomatic tone.
 
“That’s no excuse, Maiden knew this would be the case if she pulled that card, I think what we are seeing here is a lot of hype built around a player who clearly isn’t as outstanding as everyone thought.” The first man spoke, but the feed was cut off by a projectile flying through the holo screen, cutting off the broadcast.
 
“What a load of gorram terg shit!” Loona shouted, reaching for another cushion to toss.
 
“Hey! My drink!” Naskia protested, but kept to her side of the couch in a meek display of cowering.
 
“I’ll tell you what you can do with your drink!” Loona raged on standing now she began to pace.
 
Nonah remained unfazed, filling her nails as she say reclined in the small bean bag chair on the end table.
 
“So, this is why nobody wants to watch the Tribute with her?” Niall commented, unable to peel his eyes off Loona.
 
“Mmhmmm.” Nonah nodded.
 
“Heh…well there you go.”
 
“Hey! Don’t break that, it’s expensive…hheyyy that’s mine!” Naskia ducked as Loona sent her an iron glare. “And they say I need anger management.” Naskia whispered, hugging her knees.
 
“You tell her Nas!” Niall teased, more amused than anything else.
 
“Now she’s going to swear off the game for ever and ever.” Nonah said, without looking up.
 
“Gorram-it! I can’t watch…to hells with this!” Loona turned off the news feed before the image could re-stabilize. “I’m finished with Tol-Bot! Forever…and ever!” Loona pouted.
 
“Now she’s going to storm out of the room in a rage.” Nonah said next, and right on que Loona tore out of the room.
 
“This isn’t your first rodeo, is it?” Niall laughed.
 
“Soda all over my shirt. Niall, I don’t have anything to change into!” Naskia whined.
 
“What a shame Petal, looks like you’ll have to take it off and throw it in the dryer!” Niall said, hopefully.
 
“Don’t be cheeky!” Naskia glared back.
 
“And…right about now she’ll run back in and say, ‘Well, I may as well check the scores for the rest of the games…”
 
Loona stomped back into the room, flicking on the projector and said with a huff. “Well, I may as well check the scores for the rest of the games.”
 
Nonah smirked and continued to file her nails, taking a second to check and admire them.
 
 “I really think we may just have witnessed the first ever human competitor in the Tribute.” The dark skinned broadcaster said, turning to his companions.
 
The other three reporters erupted into a mess of laughter.
 
“Don’t be absurd Yuldo, PuppetMaster’s pet is simply an adorable addition to her costume, there to help win the crowds over.” The woman beside Yuldo spoke, waving her hand dismissively.
 
“When have humans ever shown an interest in Tol-Bot?” The pale skinned man with short hair spoke up next.
 
“Even if there is some truth to that, if PuppetMaster’s performance against Felltree is any indication as to what we have to look forward to, then the future of humanity’s role in Tol-Bot is dismal at best.” The orange haired woman chuckled, shaking her head.
 
“Guess Darren didn’t do so well.” Naskia frowned, looking past Loona at the screen.
 
“Felltree schooled his ass.” Loona shrugged. “This isn’t the regionals, the Tribute is real Tol-Bot, if he can’t handle the lowest-ranked entry in the first round of combat, he’s not going to fare well at all.”
 
“Way to support your friends Loony!” Nonah spoke up, looking up from her file at last.

“Hey, he’s one of the thirty-two, it’s nothing to sneeze at.”
 
“What’s so hard about this anyway? It’s just a cosmic game of Star Craft.” Niall shrugged. “Like a big video game.”
 
Before Niall knew what was on him, Loona was looming above arms at her hips. “It is not just a big video game, Dr. Smarty-pants! It is a realistic war simulator, a historic game that has been played for generations! It takes quick thinking, complex knowledge of tactics, strategy, war, systems, statistics, multi-tasking and a hell of a lot of perseverance and stamina!” Loona narrowed her eyes shooting daggers through Niall.
 
Niall shrugged. “Okay, so it’s a complex video game?”
 
Naskia winced and quickly without warning scooped Niall up into her hand. “Why don’t you come help me dry my shirt off hmmm?” Naskia chuckled nervously and scurried off with Niall in hand. Leaving Loona red faced and steaming at the ears.
 
“You and your big mouth!” Naskia grumbled.

“I just don’t see what all the hype is over a video game.” Niall said as he was carried out of the room.
 
“You’re going to set her off again you know!” Naskia hissed as they disappeared into the distance.
 
Nonah chuckled to herself, but a glaring look from Loona sent her back to filing her nails.
 
“Got a comment too?” Loona grumbled.
 
“Nope.” Nonah grinned. She did enjoy watching Loona watch Tol Bot. It was much more exciting than the game itself.