Darren stepped out of the committee chamber with his head held high, figuratively speaking, he had been torn a new hole and had decidedly taken one for the team. There was no bitterness, no spite, no indignation, only a swell of pride. Darren Lemuel Xanthopolous had taken the easy road, as far as he was concerned, Niall, Aertimus, Antero, they had paid the ultimate price, taking the blame for the Acolytes, was the least he could do.

 

But he did have a heavy weight on his chest, the pang of guilt would loom over him for quite some time.

 

In order to accomplish what they had, in order to do the impossible, he had to lie, he had to bury documents, he had to break the law, he had to commit treason against the very Empire he had spent two lifetimes trying to secure his people’s place in, he had to lie to friends, to family, to Loona and Eyrn, and he had to protect those closest to him, their names, their integrity, their dignity.

 

It meant making decisions he wasn’t proud of, it meant keeping very valuable people outside of the loop, it meant not necessarily having the right people in the right positions, but if he had to do it all over again, he would, without question, without delay.

 

“You’re walking out; I guess that means they didn’t hang you for treason?” A familiar voice broke Darren out of his torpor.

 

He had taken an exit to avoid dealing with the frenzy of media attention. Now that the acolyte project was uncovered, everybody wanted to know what it was about. What were these magic little ships that defended an entire colony against impossible odds, who made them, and was there more? The questions didn’t seem to end, everybody wanted to know the same thing, did humanity have access to this technology, or was it the Empire?

 

Darren looked up, where his aid was supposed to be, the man who had been tasked by the Aenur Foundation to escort him around Tuaut, rather stood a much shorter, but still impressively large Ambassador Bass.

 

Or, at least Ambassador for the time being. Eyrn had announced her resignation, effective as soon as a replacement could be found.

 

“Logos, you’re looking different today, do something with your hair?” Darren chuckled, trying to feint humor.

 

Eyrn shook her head, and crouched down with her arms folded on her knees. “They shred you good?” She asked, calmly.

 

Darren shrugged. “Smitty played his cards well, gave ’em the show they needed to see.” Darren paused keeping his eyes downcast. “Thing is, Madam Ambassador, I’m a wartime leader, don’t think I’d even know what to do now. Naw, I think it worked out for the best.”

 

Eyrn offered a hand, which Darren reluctantly accepted, and braced him as she stood, not nearly as quick and limber as she once would in her youth. “Heh, you deserve a statue, and you get canned…typical.” The brunette shook her head, bringing her hand level to her chest.

 

“Cut it out with that, treason is treason, no matter how honourable yer intentions. First, I didn’t get ‘canned’, I stepped down…or will, after I oversee the transition from Avalonian Defense, to Imperial Forces.”

 

Eyrn rolled her eyes and huffed.

 

“Look, Madam Ambassador, I know what I did, and I’d do it again, hell next time I’d make sure we built a thousand or more, blow that gat dang hornets’ nest to crumbs.” He sighed. “But don’t patronize me, I knew what I was signing up for, so did the Doc. We went into this knowing we’d both likely be standing here, well…heh…he figured he’d keep his name out, but I told him, they’d figure it out.” Darren sighed, he stood before the committee alone, which still stung, always would.

 

Eyrn walked slowly out the back of the chamber, to make a stealthy exit out of the committee hallway, to the rear of the building, where there was no press waiting to assault Darren with questions.

 

She walked hurriedly, until she reached her personal commuter shuttle, and shut herself in with Darren, sitting him gently on the dashboard, and making sure the hanger had closed.

 

“I’m glad to hear you talk like that.” Eyrn’s voice was baited.

 

Darren winced, he knew this was coming; it was only a matter of time.

 

“Because now I know, it’s fair game to chew your head off!” Eyrn barked, though not too harshly.

 

Darren’s eyes met hers, she wasn’t angry though, she was hurt. “Eyrn….”

 

“Don’t Eyrn me. You always Eyrn me when you’re trying to be condescending, when you’re trying to mansplain something to me, or when you’re about to give me that God damn, “It’s for my own good”, lecture.” Eyrn seethed. “Well no, not this time. I call foul, you should have come to me, and you could have trusted me! There is plenty I could have done; I would have done, to make things a whole lot easier for you. I was goddamn ambassador to Earth, but more than that, I’m your friend. Why didn’t you trust me?” Eyrn’s voice lost its thunder near the end, and trailed off into a soft whisper.

 

Darren took a sharp breath, and nodded. “Alright, I’ll get right to it then. It was business Eyrn, the less that knew the better. Gat’dang Eyrn, this wasn’t some school yard gossip, we were building our own fleet of ships, to protect us against the Empire, the same Empire we had just joined. We were conspiring with a foreign power to build secret weapons of mass destruction, I didn’t tell my own wife, I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell you.”

 

Darren’s words stung, but only at first, and only for a while. He was right; he was stupid, an ass, and irritating, but he was right. “I would have helped, hell; you know I would have supported you.” Eyrn sat back in her seat, and ran her hand over her face.

 

“That’s why I didn’t tell you.” Darren laughed, it was a bitter, ironic, salty laugh, but a laugh. “I didn’t want those closest to me caught up in this. I was trying to protect ya’ll… kinda blew up in our faces in the end though.”

 

“Don’t sell yourself short. You and Niall saved a lot of lives. Aertimus would never have been able to make a stand against that thing, if not for the acolytes, his death would have been empty and hollow. You helped give his death meaning, you helped save countless lives, me included. That means something Darren, you protected a whole lot more in the end.” Eyrn half smiled.

 

“We’d be having a completely different conversation, if that ship hadn’t been there, had the bugs not decided to strike, nobody would be marking me a hero, just another imperial traitor.”

 

Eyrn shook her head. “If “ifs” and “buts” were candy and nuts, we’d all have a merry Christmas!” Eyrn said, in her most practiced Darren impersonation to date.

 

Darren chuckled.

 

“It hurt. But I’ll get over it.” Eyrn sighed.

 

“For what it’s worth, lying to you, to Loona, to Pryvani…I never wanted to…”

 

“But you had to…I get it. I just needed to hear you say it, I guess.” Eyrn smile returned.

 

“I never said I was sorry.” Darren protested.

 

“Sure you did, you said it in a very Darren way.” Eyrn said, matter of fact.

 

“I think you’re putting words in my mouth, Ambassador Twat.” Darren stiffened his posture, but his lips betrayed him with a grin.

 

“Right.” Eyrn rolled her eyes. “I’m hungry, join me for lunch?” Eyrn nudged Darren with her smallest finger.

 

Darren steadied himself and grumbled. “Well, if you’re gonna bully me into it…”

 

 

“Oh I hardly touched you…geeze!” Eyrn teased.

 

“Brutality I what it is.” Darren insisted, in jest.

 

“Getting senile in your old age…”

 

“I ain’t old, not a day over 200…or I it 280…220…hells….”

 

“Can’t even remember his own age.” Eyrn teased.

 

“Never mind that, what’s this I hear about you quitting your job as ambassador?” Darren lectured.

 

“Don’t change the topic Grandpa!”

 

 

****

Tuaut had been a commercial epicentre for generations; it was considered a cultural mecca of sorts, where one could find food, culture, and strongholds from just about every civilised culture in the galaxy.

 

Human cuisine had hit like wildfire, taking the multicultural Medina by storm. Coffee was particularly popular among Titan citizens, while the Ler were fascinated with a unique Scottish dish, consisting of a savoury pudding containing sheep’s pluck, onions, oatmeal, and spices, boiled in its own stomach. It was to the Ler, what popcorn shrimp was to the Deep South.

 

“We used to make jokes about this stuff, growing up, you know.” Darren said, as he eyed the menu. It was a collage of various international staples from Earth, every nation Darren remembered seemed to have its dish represented. “Haggis…blech.” Darren shivered.

 

“I might try the Poutine! I’ve always wanted to, you know.” Eyrn said, with an almost giddy tone.

 

Darren mulled over the description on the menu, his menu exactly like Eyrn’s, only smaller. “Then don’t order this. It ain’t real.” Darren coined in, assuredly.

 

“How can you tell, you haven’t even seen it?” Eyrn set her menu down, and crossed her arms defiantly.

 

Darren inhaled sharply through his nose, his gaze lingered on Eyrn for a moment before answering. “Alright, first, we ain’t in Quebec, so it’s not authentic. Second, they drown it in gravy, true Canuck Poutine doesn’t swim in the stuff. Third, and most importantly, menu says they use sharp green cheese from Home world of the People. To be authentic, it has to be curds. The fries have to be twice fried, soft on the inside but crispy on the out….”

 

“Ok, fine…you win. But how does an Austin raised Texan know so damn much about Poutine? Is there something you’re not telling me?” Eyrn eyed her friend, suspiciously.

 

Darren chuckled. “His Royal Highness Pierce ran me through the whole lecture a few years back.” Darren shook his head “Doesn’t matter how long he’s been royal playboy, a Canuck always remembers!”

 

Eyrn rolled her eyes. “Noted.”

 

“You’ll never guess who I had a lunch date with, just yesterday, soon as I got into town.” Darren said, filling calm in their conversation.

 

Eyrn’s interest was piqued, as she took a sip of her coffee, allowing her hands to wrap around the large mug, to absorb as much of the residual heat as she could.

 

“Go on, guess.” Darren insisted.

 

Eyrn rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “Grand LeeLur Mokt?”

 

“That is a pathetic guess that is false!” Darren said, in his best Ler shout.

 

“Leader-of-the-people?” Eyrn grinned.

 

“Titan-I-call-Twat is wrong once again.” Darren grinned right back. “And I swear if your next guess has gills….”

 

“Alright, I fold…who did you have lunch with, just yesterday, soon as you got into town?” Eyrn said, exasperated.

 

“Lyroo Prenn.” Darren said, the whimsy disappearing from his voice.

 

Eyrn was silent, her eyes demanded more information, but it was fortunate she has swallowed her coffee before Darren chose to reveal that fact to her, as he may have found himself in need of a towel.

 

“That was about my reaction too, when I got the call a few days back.” Darren

 

Eyrn’s expression remained stagnant for a moment; she shook her head quickly, as if attempting to pull herself out of some strange hallucination. When Darren still offered no solution, Eyrn motioned with her hand for Darren to continue.

 

 

***

 

“I’m glad you agreed to meet with me, Secretary Xanthopolous.” Lyroo Prenn said, sitting across the table from the Avalonian dignitary. “You’re a difficult man to track down, and even harder yet to secure time with.”

 

He looked well, considering how old he was. His hair was mostly grey now, and he sported a salty white goatee around his chin and mouth, but he was still the same Darren he had always been, and his eyes still held the same vigour.

 

No doubt his beneficiary paid handsomely for his services, granting him all the benefits modern science allowed. Lyroo thought at least, of course, Darren was no special exception. The Life extension retroviral treatment had been freely offered to anyone on Avalon, a decision the Avalonian government had unanimously agreed to, when Senator Tarsuss had first suggested it. Avalon was a large moon, with a relatively tiny population, there were resources aplenty, and much to be gained by keeping the workforce young, healthy and virile for as long as possible. Darren’s personal wealth had nothing to do with it.

 

Darren adjusted his posture; he wasn’t exactly sure how she expected him to answer that. This wasn’t a friendly reunion with an old friend. He wasn’t catching up on old times with Izzy, or throwing back cold beer with Epistratichos Raptis, this wasn’t even a stale, forced affair with a foreign dignitary. This was Lyroo goddamn Prenn. The closest thing to a nemesis Darren had, and the one titan in all the Empire, Darren never imagined he’d spend another moment with, let alone share a meal together.

 

 

“Well, you know how it is.” Darren said, as continuing to stare at the woman in stun silence, wasn’t exactly an option… at least, not a cordial one.

 

Lyroo smiled politely. She herself had not fared so well. For starters, she had gained a fair bit of weight, her hair was grey and thin, and her face worn. The only word Darren could use to describe her, the sentiment that stuck out the most, was exhaustion. Lyroo Magda Prenn, looked tired. The bags under her eyes, the scraggly, short, thin hair, she looked as if she’d been rung through the press just one time too many, and was ready to unravel.

 

“Darren, I won’t pretend this was something I was looking forward to.” Lyroo sighed, sinking a bit. “In fact, if I’m allowed to be honest, I’ve avoided this moment for as long as I knew it had to come.”

 

Darren’s brow lifted, and he held back the snarky reply he wanted to throw at her.

 

“I’m worn out, Darren. I can’t exactly find the words to tell you how I feel, but I’m worn, I think that’s the best way to put it.” Lyroo rested her head in her hand for a moment, and paused as she tried to find the courage to go on.

 

Darren huffed, even in defeat, she had the arrogance to assume that any of this was about her. To imply that whatever it was she had gone through, even came close to relating to anything she had put him through, which she had put his friends, his entire species through. But Darren kept silent, and waited.

 

“I’ve spent a lifetime, fighting, devoting every waking moment, so much money and resources, to the wrong side of history. Do you know how exhausting that is, Darren? How much of you that takes?” Lyroo said her voice traveling through an array of emotion, but much to Darren’s actual amazement, she sounded legitimately upset.

 

“No, frankly, I don’t. Actually, I think all things considered, I’ve been on the right side of history most of my life.” Darren said, with enough ice in his voice to get across his point well enough.

 

Lyroo felt the stab, but she accepted it, she deserved it, and more. “It doesn’t happen suddenly you know. There is no sudden moment of epiphany. It’s slow, it takes a lifetime, well…for me it did. You have hints, here and there, moments you question yourself, your motives, your values. Slowly, but surely, you start to realize you’re wrong, and everything you’ve been supporting, fighting for, is wrong.”

 

“Must have been terrible for you.” Darren said, plainly.

 

Lyroo lowered her eyes. “I’m not asking for sympathy, I’m not even asking for forgiveness….”

 

“In order to be forgiven, generally you have to be sorry first.” Darren said, narrowing his eyes a little. “I’ve seen people who are plagued with regret, whose decisions haunt them. God knows, I’ve had that feeling a few times too. You…naw…you’re not sorry. Not really.” Darren took a drink, and then set his glass down. “You’re beaten, there’s a difference.”

 

Lyroo’s eyes shot up. “That isn’t fair…I came here to….”

 

“You came here to save face, for absolution. You need me to tell you it’s all cool, to wave my hand, and absolve you of a lifetime of atrocities. To tell you I ain’t bitter you tried to break me, to tell me it ain’t wrong, all those lives you doomed to subjugation. You’re not sorry, you feel guilty sure, you may even be a little regretful, but really, you just want absolution.” Darren shook his head.

 

“…” Lyroo’s eyes remained focused on Darren, she was speechless.

 

“Naw, even if I wanted to, I can’t give you that.” Darren’s tone dropped, his voice lowered, his eyes turned down.

 

“It got worse for Scroof, after Aisell took you.” Lyroo began, her voice shaking.

 

Darren’s eyes narrowed, at the sudden change in pace.

 

“I was infuriated; all I wanted to do was find something, anything I could use against Aisell and the Maris’. Oh, don’t worry; I wasn’t really angry with her, I was angrier with my father. His involvement in what happened…it went against everything I’d been raised to believe.” Lyroo shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

 

“So, I got busier, as I worked hard to erase Lert Prenn from my life. Slowly, but surely I obliterated any hint of his presence in the family business. I mercilessly took it all from him, and left him with nothing. I loved him, he was my father…but what he did…it was murder…I couldn’t live with that.”

 

Darren nodded.

 

“I worked so hard, I didn’t notice Scroof’s health declining. Every time I came home, I would be so preoccupied with work; I hardly had time to be with him. Scroof would be so excited to see me, but as his health continued to decline…heh…even when he could hardly find the strength to walk, he’d still look so excited to see me…” Lyroo ran her hand over her eyes, to dry them off.

 

“I don’t know how I didn’t see it, I was so filled blinded, I had things to fix, and I had a job to do.” Lyroo took a breath. “He died, alone Darren…while I was working late, I wasn’t even there for him when he was on his death bed.” Lyroo looked to Darren at last, her eyes red, but her expression determined. “Regret? I regret how I treated him, every day of my life. He was the last human I ever owned. I couldn’t after him.”

 

Darren opened his mouth, but Lyroo cut him off.

 

“So, when I tell you, I’m sorry. For how I treated you, for what I did to Dr Freeman, to Ambassador Bass, to the Maris sisters, and to Scroof, I mean it Darren, I do.”

 

Darren mulled over Lyroo’s words for a while. He remembered every day with her every moment, like it was yesterday. There were a lot of experiences he had forgotten in his long life, but Lyroo Prenn, was not one of them.

 

Finally he spoke, with a tired voice, as if I deliberating over what to day next took everything he had in him. “What exactly do you want me to respond to that with, Lyroo?” Darren began, and continued, before she could offer a word in reply.

 

“Am I supposed to feel bad for you? Would you like sympathy? Should I be enraged? Should I lecture you about how terrible a person you’ve been? Are you looking for pity? I’m not exactly sure why you’ve come. Are you looking for absolution? What?”

 

Lyroo swallowed, and moistened her dry lips. Her mouth felt like cotton, her eyes quickly scanned the room for signs of the server, to refresh her beverage. “Darren, to be honest…I just…” Lyroo took a breath, and squeaked, “Forgiveness.”

 

“I can’t give it to you. It’s not up to me.” Darren looked down to his empty cup. “I haven’t spent a whole lot of time on you, oh, I’ve never forgotten it, but it hasn’t controlled me. I’ve moved on, had a family, I’ve made a difference. The sum of my life’s work, it’s something I can be proud of.” Darren looked up to Lyroo at last, a broken, tired, defeated shell of a woman, a ghost of her former self. “Yea, sure…I can forgive you, for what you did…to me.”

 

Lyroo almost looked relieved, until Darren went on.

 

“But Naskia Freeman, Niall Freeman, Loona Armac, Aisell, Lezah, Aehzay Maris, the Tribe, Scroof and every human soul who went through your families breeding farm…nah…that ain’t up to me Lyroo. I can’t give you absolution.”

 

Lyroo nodded. “I know, and I didn’t expect you could. But…I figured this was a start.”

 

Darren chuffed and shook his head. “I guess so.”

 

“What…should I do next? How can I make myself part of the solution, rather than part of the problem?”

 

Darren reserved his bitter words, swallowed them deep and looked upon his former rival, with pity. “Honestly? The best thing you can do is keep out of the way. Humanity doesn’t NEED you Lyroo, it never has. The absolute best thing you can do, is for once, just back off, and let humans live their own lives. Stop trying to help, stop trying to protect, just fade away, and leave us be.” There was no hate, no anger in his tone, just honest, sincerity.

 

Lyroo was taken aback, but she nodded, and from her dry throat, she choked out a froggy, “I…understand.”

 

Darren looked back, to where his titan aid was waiting, and motioned that it was time to leave. As the Aenur Foundation aid came to assist, Lyroo asked, almost hopeful, “The Freeman’s have not returned my calls, has their contact information changed? I wanted to personally apologise to Niall’s widow and daughter.

 

Darren laughed. “Lyroo, the best piece of advice I can offer you, is try not to ever find yourself in the same city as Sorcha and Naskia Freeman.”

 

Darren’s aid went to leave, though seeing Lyroo looking more dejected than ever, Darren groaned and motioned for his aid to stop. “The Avalonian government is taking monetary donations for the restoration of the Tau Ceti colony…if you contact the Aenur foundations Avalonian office…they are not too picky as to where the creds come from.”

 

Lyroo looked up, and smiled weakly. “Thank you.”

 

Darren shook his head. “Don’t.”

 

“Ready to leave Mr. Secretary?”

 

Darren nodded. “Let’s go pay.” Darren said, the irony of buying Lyroo Prenn lunch, with his money, with money that was in an Imperial account, with his name, brought a wide smile to his lips.

 

 

 

****

 

Eyrn sat back, letting Darren’s story sink in. The food that had come while he was educating her on his adventure was now cold. But she didn’t care, that was too good to miss even one word.

 

“Damn, I’m sorry I missed that.” Eyrn chuckled. “I would have loved to see her, at the end of her rope like that.”

 

Darren shook his head. “Don’t be, no sense in gloating. She’s lost; freedom is the only victory dance we need.”

 

Eyrn made a face and forked a pile of cold poutine into her mouth. “Oh get off it! You’re as happy to see her crawling on her hands and knees as I am. If anyone deserves it, Lyroo does.”

 

“Twat, I’ve known my fair share of terrible people, Lyroo wasn’t the worst. There are people out there, who wanted humanity to burn; there are Ziah Solis’s and Trell Pria’s. The monster Joe Archer-Mavoy put down on Tau Ceti…or the Federation, who would fight to the last titan standing, to see humans taken down a peg. Lyroo was bad, and a lot of people suffered because of her. But she want a monster, she was just ignorant. Fraken ignorant. She was caught on the wrong side of history.”

 

Eyrn swallowed, and took a drink. “Heh, well I’m still glad her side lost.”

 

Darren shook his head and chuckled. Eyrn was frayed, she had lost a great deal, her uncouth demeanour was understandable. So he just smiled.

 

“So, what’s next, Sarge?” Eyrn asked, setting her utensils down.

 

Darren reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small pill shaped tablet. Lysis had demand he quit smoking, he had already been through two lung regenerations, but chewing on a chalky, cigar flavoured pill didn’t have the same effect.

 

“Been mulling over an offer, actually.” Darren grinned. “Might dive back into the Tol Bot Circuit.”

 

Eyrn laughed. “Well, I’m retired now, so you’re not getting me in that Gisha costume!”

 

Darren laughed, and chewed on his cigar pill. “Naw, I’m done playing. They got a fancier job for me. Something for an old fool to keep himself busy.”

 

 

****

Sometime later

 

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s standing room only, Regina Saskatchewan P.L ColVanos Centre! Jake, sceptics were laying doubt that there would be enough interest to host an official Tol Bot match for the 2134 Imperial Grand Tribute, but as we tend to often do, the citizens of our fine planet have managed to completely surprise our doubters, to play host to not only an official Tribute match, but THE opening game the preliminaries!” The young, redheaded new caster projected to her South Asian male, counterpart.

 

“Elaine, it’s been a bumpy road, leading up to this year’s Tribute. The pressure put on the world governments to choose a nation to host the game, the logistics of building a venue large enough to host such a colossal event, and the nightmare of navigating through the technical specifications; it has not been an easy venture.” The young man said, turning on his chair to the centre of the arena, where the combatants would soon emerge.

 

“Well, it was nice of the North American Alliance to offer up so much land.” The female broadcaster said with a practiced tone.

 

“Well, I’m sure the Canadians are just happy to make use of some of that land of theirs, and for their shot in the spotlight.” Jake said in well-rehearsed jest.

 

“I wouldn’t make light of the Canadians too much Jake, among the many foreign dignitaries in attendance, tonight, we have the honour of welcoming home, Canada’s own, His Imperial Highness, Pierce LaFontaine ColVanos!”. Elaine said, as the camera panned to the box seats, where an unaware Pierce, was caught off guard whispering into the ear of a dark haired titan with long tight braids. A gentle flick from the titaness beside them both, shook Pierce back to reality, and he waved to the crowd with a sheepish grin.

 

The attention was back to the news casters, who were now standing with their backs to the centre of the arena.

 

“Match official, Grand Diatiti Darren Xanthopolous is about to announce tonight’s combatants. Xanthopolous is also from Earth, born and raised in Austin Texas.” Elaine said, turning to her counterpart.

 

All attention was on the man in the centre ring, which stood empty all for a pulpit, slowly rising from the smoke. “Ladies and gentlemen of all species, the officiator of today’s match, Grand Diatiti Xanthopolous!”

 

Darren stepped out from the smokescreen, for effect, and listened as the crowd roared in excitement for the 2134 Imperial Grand Tribute to begin, all of them, waiting on him.

 

There was a moment, amidst the screaming, cheering and thundering stomps of feet on the ground, a moment Darren stopped to think about where he was. He wasn’t on some alien world, he wasn’t on a space station hurtling through space, he was on Earth. He was officiating a Tol Bot game, on Earth, among his own people. His chest swelled with pride, he had arrived home, and while this wasn’t the first time, it truly felt official now.

 

“Your attention!” Darren began with, and waited for the cheering to calm. “Welcome to the Imperial 2134 Grand Tribute!”

 

The crowd erupted once more, but settled as Darren began to speak.

 

“Our challenger is unranked, and here as a novice qualifier, having won the Novice Playdown. Playing out of Archavia, the brave, the bold, the defiant, the beautiful, MIRACLE GIRL!” Darren swung his arm in welcome, as a young woman dressed in a simple super hero costume came into view. She was young, with long brown hair, a mask covering her eyes and nose, a black cape, with accompanying skirt and short sleeved shirt. It was dazzling, but simple, like it had been assembled by a child using whatever their imagination could collect. The petite competitor jogged down the lane, as the crowd cheered her own, and stopped at her stand, with a nod to the Grand Diatiti.

 

Darren watched Miracle Girl prance down the lane, and grinned to himself. “Knock ‘em dead Kiddo.” He mouthed silently.

 

“I give you our defender, who currently holds the forty third rank. Playing out of New Trantor: Don’t let the pretty face fool you, she’s as deadly as she is alluring. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the one and only… DIVA!”

 

A shower of sparks erupted from the entrance way to the arena. Out of the shadows stepped a woman dressed in a tight fitting sequined leotard with a long skirt that barely brushed the ground behind her. Her mane of white and silver hair tumbled down her back. The player’s features were youthful but her dark blue eyes looked out onto the arena from behind her black domino mask. Her purple painted lips showed only the barest hint of a smirk, and the sound of her platform heels tapping against the floor beneath her echoed through the stadium as she made her way to the play area. She climbed into her station and stood at the controls, idly tapping her long black polished nails against the console.

 

“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?”

 

Miracle Girl nodded.

 

“Defender ready?”

 

Diva nodded.

 

Darren smiled widely. “Then, BEGIN!”

 

 

 

 

---

 

Author’s note: This was entirely written by Dann. Except for one paragraph which was JS.