Welcome to the next episode of the Space Opera saga of Alex Deroma.
I'm continuing to use the excellent prompts in the Worldbuilding Community to determine which direction the story goes in. The one I'm using for this prompt is Worldbuilding Prompt #580 - Arena Events
Everything hurt. Alex thought to herself that she was getting really fed up with waking up like this.
She opened her eyes with some difficulty and looked around. She was in a cell of some kind, probably mostly underground judging from the appearance of the walls which seemed to have been sculpted by directed energy excavation. Light, and a certain amount of rain, came in just from a narrow slit near the top of one wall. There was no opposite wall, just a door made of heavy metal bars.
All she could remember between her capture and now was being force marched for days with no food and little water, being dragged when her legs wouldn't carry her further. With every stop for night, she'd been beaten and then fastened to a deeply-embedded stake.
On arrival at this town, larger than most settlements on Margal VI, she'd had her final beating. Even more brutal than the others, which appeared casual by comparison, it had reduced her to unconsciousness. When she woke up, she was in this cell.
They'd stripped her of her uniform; she knew it wasn't a sexual thing, just part of the ritual of humiliating her and trying to make her feel vulnerable. At least it made it easier for her to check herself over for damage.
It wasn't great, but could have been worse. At least one broken finger, possibly a broken nose, a couple of black eyes. Some loose teeth, maybe a cracked rib or two, and bruises all over the place. It hurt, but there didn't seem to be any really serious injury.
A stamping came from outside, the lock turned and the door was pulled open. Three low-ranking reptilian slaver guards stood outside.
"You come," the leader ordered in a guttural approximation of Imperial Common.
As she stood, they grabbed her and dragged her away down a long passageway. At it's end, they thrust her through a heavy door and she found herself blinking in pallid, damp daylight.
Image generated by AI in Wombo.art
She was in a sandy arena. It wasn't a huge one, but there was still a sizeable crowd here, larger than any other she'd seen on this planet. Of the crowd, most were silent, and a small section were laughing and cheering. The loud ones were Slavers; the rest were Kerber slaves, probably compelled to come here.
Alex knew she was the spectacle, the example of what happens to those who dare challenge the self-named Masters. Well, damned if that was going to happen.
Looking around, she saw Garrad had been pushed through another, nearby door. He looked as woeful and worked-over as she suspected she did.
Also present were four Kerbers, shackled and guarded by two Slavers.
In the Slaver section of the audience was a podium, clearly reserved for more important members of their society. The glittering ornaments and painted scales were a definite clue.
The largest, fattest Slaver of all stood, waved his chubby arms for silence, and announced the plan he had for the day's event. Luckily, his words were translated by a belt translator on the nearest guard.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Slaver friends and slave scum, today you will witness the humiliation and deaths of two Imperial agents sent to try to challenge our authority. First, we will make them fight the misguided slaves associated with them. Then the winners will battle to the death for your education and entertainment. Let the game begin !"
It was clear from his description that he didn't expect the Kerber to put up much of a fight, or any fight at all.
Two weapons were thrown into the sand at her feet and at Garrad's. Primitive, brutal things. Rubberised plasteel shafts with the ends a mess of spikes and blades. A kind of cross between clubs, morning stars and shortswords. Nasty weapons.
Alex bent and picked hers up, glancing across at Garrad and giving her head a slight shake. He saw the gesture and she saw him grin back and mouth the words "Fuck that."
Stepping forward casually, trying to ignore her injuries, she approached the two Kerber she was expected to kill and their guard. A male and female; dirty, clearly beaten heavily, with heads bowed awaiting their fate.
Raising her weapon, Alex called out to the assembled audience in the clearest voice she could muster.
"Before the killing begins, I have something to say. Not to you Slavers, you self-appointed Masters. But to you, the Kerber. You have been slaves too long. Whatever happens now, I tell you this. Your lives have value. You care for each other, I have seen it. Slavers are few, you are many. You have allowed these reptiles to beat you over and over again for centuries. You have let them eat your children as if they had no value. If you care for your children, all you have to do is say NO, and keep saying it no matter how many of you they kill. Never mind me, never mind whether the Imperials come to save you. Just protect your children."
With that, she struck hard. Not at the defenceless Kerber, but at their guard. He went down hard, surprised that someone from a smaller species it thought of as inferior wouldn't follow the plan as ordered. Alex struck him over and over again, rapidly, making sure he was actually dead.
Off to her right, she could see Garrad meting out similar treatment to the guard he had been facing.
Then she used the sword-club to crack open the shackles on her two Kerber. "Run !" she said, as a shot cracked out from the podium. The Slavers mostly relied on hand weapons to control their slaves, but still had a number of energy and projectile weapons in addition.
She knew the odds were she would be gunned down very shortly, but she'd said her piece. Perhaps she had done enough to put a small spark of rebellion into the compliant, beaten-down Kerber.
Then she looked again. She saw the vile reptile with it's shell-rifle. But even as it tried to take aim at her, a dozen small furry forms grabbed at it, pulling it off balance.
All around the arena, similar little struggles were happening. She'd done it ! Almost on an instinctive level, she had found the key she'd been looking for all this time. The Kerber didn't care what happened to themselves, but still wanted to protect their children, hoped somehow for better for them. She realised with a shock that in her conversations with them, they had known the Slavers ate the old and disobedient, but had never realised that their children were the biggest delicacy of all.
There was a low chattering from the crowd now, rising from the Kerber as millennia of servitude, of pent-up frustration and generations of patience over casual abuse finally found an outlet.
Few Slavers escaped from the arena with their lives that day. At last, the Slave Rebellion was on !
To be continued.....
Previous parts of Alex's Saga;
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Mira and the slaves first appeared in Worldbuilding Prompt #546 - The Hovels of Margal VI
The First Saga, the Tale of Fedric - Final Part - with links to all the previous parts.
