Fighting Pits of Canistel

Another day on planet Canistel, another highly regimented and controlled day of existence, supervised by instructors and guards that maintained the function and efficiency of the gladiator training school. The small compound owned by Lord Lúcuma was located in the lower portion of Victus City, not far from the nobleman's high-rise estate, and it was in the Ludus that Lord Lúcuma's fighters were trained for the Canistel arena. For all the splendor and grandeur of the ornate and technologically advanced city had to offer, unfortunately such cityscapes and panoramic views were not for the eyes of the chaff; in fact, the Ludus was housed as low down in the bottom caste sections as it could be, to reduce cost and lessen taxes, undoubtedly. The compound was a decent size, which encompassed barracks, training yards, bathing rooms and meal halls - all the typical, if basic, amenities one might expect for a simple life as an indentured fighter for other people's entertainment.

The gladiators and fighters-in-training themselves were want to nothing, save a lack of freedom. Clothing, meals, training were all provided, at the expense to their benevolent master, Lord Lúcuma. That was a fact routinely spouted by the instructors and guards, especially when there was any unease among the fighters, either from agitation or pent up frustration; all of them were, after all, encouraged and expected to develop aggressive demeanors for the sake of doing well in the fighting arenas, and not just those on Canistel. So, it was generally understood that tempers could run high in the Ludus, as each member of the school was put through excruciating regiment and training every day... however, Lord Lúcuma and his instructors had - wisely - worked out ways to let the gladiators relieve stress and find enjoyment under controlled conditions.

As such, it was lunchtime for the Ludus.

That meant the crowd of gladiators and fighters-in-training were loud, talkative, and able to enjoy one of the few times permitted as unstructured. Joking, arm wrestles, gossip, all of the things not typically allowed in the training yards were present. Conversation buzzed, insults were thrown, and the guards around the eating hall remained unobtrusive - but still blatantly present - as they permitted the fighters to enjoy the break. It was a known understanding between all parties that fun was allowed during lunch, but too much meant that luxury was temporarily removed, and so everyone behaved to an extent and a loose supervision was maintained.

"Hey, Keel," A low rumbling voice said from the next table over. "You heard Grizz is coming for you?"

Seated on a wooden chair, at a wooden table, with a plate of nutrient pastes and cubes, dark eyes glanced over to regard the alien that spoke. The individual the alien addressed was a muscular and tall humanoid, tan of skin with mottled scars, and a mass of black hair that covered his head and wore the typical outfit of a gladiator - gauntlets, boots, pants and a belt with thick cingulum strips attached. Those that were fans of the arena of Canistel knew the Saiyan by sight, his appearance unique in that most of his species weren't nearly as tall or as broad, not to mention the sheer amount of time he had lived as a gladiator...

"Nope," Keel grunted, as he looked over at the purple-skinned alien, who had four eyes and a mohawk, she was very distinctive also. "And why would I care?"

"Oh, uh, well," The alien - Shank, by name - blinked all four eyes and stuttered. "I guess you wouldn't? Just wanted to give you a heads up, though, since he seems hellbent on pushing an arena challenge on you."

"Let him," Keel said simply, as he forked another mouthful of nutrient paste into his mouth and chewed loudly. The Saiyan's dark gaze moved about the eating hall, where he settled his stare onto Grizz across the way. The human was laughing loudly, making a spectacle, and then offered a short glance back and a smirk. "He knows what will happen. It's why the challenge hasn't come, it's boasting... and it makes him look weaker for it."

"Yeah, well, just watch out," Shank chuckled, as the alien went back to her own food. "That human can be tricky. From some place called Earth, I heard... anyway."

If it was one thing Shank knew, it was that Keel wasn't much for conversation. Or friendliness. Perhaps it was simply the lifestyle, as being a gladiator meant you were on borrowed time, surviving as long as you were able to win. And there was no point in making friends as one day they could just die, failures in combat, and that camaraderie would have been for nothing. Keel had been a fighter in the arena for 14 years, and he definitely didn't have time for useless connections, especially when his next opponent could literally be anyone from the Ludus, or any other fighting school in the space sector...

"Okay, slugs," Called a guard suddenly, as the people in armor that brandished weapons began to stomp and move about the hall. "Lunch is over in five minutes. Finish your meals, your conversations, and be ready to leave the hall to return to training before then!"

Keel sighed.

This was his life.

It wasn't much of one, but at least the Saiyan was able to fight, which felt oddly good on an instinctual level. He had also managed to exceed in his profession, as it was, and had become a prized gladiator to Lord Lúcuma ever since being claimed by the noble as his property. A lot of time had passed since Keel had arrived on Canistel - 25 years, actually - and it was all the fighter knew, as he had no recollection of his home planet, culture or parents. Being taken as a baby in his growth pod, Keel had been birthed - technically - on Canistel and to Lord Lúcuma, and there had been no attempt at giving information about Keel's past to him from his master.

Sometimes I do wonder about it all, Keel thought, as he reflected on Shank's mention of Grizz's planet, Earth. I don't even know the name of my planet, but I know I'm not a Canistelean... the lack of blue skin is obvious.

With several last mouthfuls, Keel finished his meal and stood, to then walk over with his dish to the water trough. He dumped the items in the water, the fighters who worked the kitchens would clean them later, and proceeded to make his way to the eating hall exit. As Keel waited, patiently in line as others began to mingle over and join him, the Saiyan glanced out the shuttered window of the building... he couldn't see much, not beyond the high buildings outside the tall compound walls, and the view certainly didn't inspire much of anything internally.

"Lunch is now over," Called another guard, as he smacked the taser-pole against the ground with a loud clang. "Cut the chatter, you're now back on Lord Lúcuma's gracious and generous time. Everyone move to the training yard, regimented partnered sparring will commence immediately!"

At the front of the queue of gladiators, Keel sighed and stepped through the heavy doors of the meal hall, before he turned and started to walk along the dark corridors of the Ludus, before he stepped out into the training yard. It was a large, flat section of sand with various wooden racks with wooden weaponry and equipment on them. Training items, non-lethal. Keel didn't bother with the weapons, he preferred using his hands, and without complaint or word simply walked over to his sparring space - a position at the far edge of the yard, where all other fighters knew he trained specifically.

One of the many faceless fighters-in-training approached, assigned to Keel to spar, to which the Saiyan crouched and rubbed sand through his hands. When he was ready, the gladiator stood and turned to begin training for the afternoon, before the big event later that evening...

Here's to another day on Canistel...

LUDUS TRAINING YARDS
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Training had been relentless.

For hours and hours the fighters had been sparring, each of the numerous individuals that mock fought brought to physical and mental exhaustion. Theirs was a painstaking lifestyle, one filled with endless lessons, endless bruises and wounds, endless training that was aimed to allow them to get through the arena. Some overcame the toll on the mind and body, some fought through the endless hours of monotonous sparring, and earned valuable lessons to help survive; others gave in, started to become complacent with the instructors, barely put in the effort and usually paid for that mistake with their lives.

And further still, there were a select few that relished in and excelled with the brutal and unforgiving lifestyle, who came alive when in the middle of combat - whether sparring or not - and took to each training session with the same abandon as a fish to water. These were the champions, the prized fighters of a Lord's fighting group, and they were expected to do everything any regular combatant would in training, if not more. As being a prized gladiator made one no exception to the rule: to survive, you must fight; to fight, you must learn; and to learn, you must train.

Keel grunted as he blocked a strong overhead smash from the wooden training sword, even as the force shuddered his arms, though his gauntlets absorbed the impact for the most part. Opposite the Saiyan gladiator, a yellow humanoid alien with four muscular arms - and consequently four swords - sparred, as he delivered several combinations of sword strikes, aimed to test Keel's defensive clout. The strikes continued to come, raining down against Keel's defenses, as the Saiyan blocked and deflected and moved his feet to keep balance under the training onslaught. Most of the wooden blades were turned aside, but every so often the yellow alien landed a solid hit, which elicited a grunt from Keel for the mistake.

Amid the numerous other fighters who trained in the yard, it seemed these two specifically had drawn attention. As near the pair, Ludus Master Rimoya watched with narrowed eyes and keen observation. The older training master was in charge of the development of the fighters-in-training and gladiators, and had the pale blue and yellow eyes of his race, the Canisteleans. Rimoya was trusted by Lord Lúcuma, the former's social station quite high himself, though it had still been an honor to serve under the noble household of Victus City. As such, Rimoya had dedicated himself to giving the best training he could to every combatant, regardless of skill or survivability chances...

"Good, Quash, go again," Came Rimoya's response, filled with authority, as the training master nodded. "Harder. Make those swords splinter."

The yellow alien with four arms - Quash - nodded, as he turned and readied himself. Keel, scowl on his face, prepared also. There was a few moments before Quash rushed in and began to swing the swords, the wooden blades blunt but the force and strength applied real, to which Keel moved his forearms to intercept each strike; the metal gauntlets were more than enough to stop damage, as the wood blades smashed down from Quash's powerful hits, and the sound of cracks and groans could be heard from the weapons--

*Crack!*

--then one of the wooden swords snapped, as the blade portion finally gave way and broke over Keel's forearm. The result sent the blade portion sailing through the air, where it smacked into Keel's face, against his cheek, and brought a grunt from the Saiyan. The sparring paused, as Quash blinked and stopped mid-swing, while Rimoya looked to Keel with a cautious glare. Both aliens watched, hesitant... then Keel shook his head and muttered something under his breath, but otherwise shrugged off the mishap.

"Keep going," Keel said in a low tone, as he locked eyes with Quash. The Saiyan now had a streak of blood just below his right eye, but the wound didn't seem serious. "Just a scratch."

For his part, Rimoya let out a contained sigh of relief, as he crossed arms and continued to observe. Thankfully Keel had pulled his temper in, since the dark-haired warrior had a reputation for his fierce strength and rage, and overzealous training partners in the past - who intentionally tried to hurt Keel - had come out the other side of that temper the worse for it. Though today it seemed Keel was in full control, much to Quash's state of well-being...

"Good," Rimoya said as he pointed to a nearby instructor and then clicked his fingers at a nearby weapon rack. "Another sword, now. Quash, lose the broken one. We go again!"

Both gladiators waited as the replacement weapon was brought, even though Keel wondered at why Rimoya had him training against four blades. It wasn't usual, the Saiyan could count the number of training sessions with Quash on one hand, but for the last several days there had been a heavy focus on multiple limb defense. It was enough to make Keel suspicious, as he pondered if the old Canistelean trainer knew something about the upcoming arena fight later in the day...

"Ready, Keel?" Quash asked, big eyes blinking. He had all four swords again. "Didn't mean for that to happ--"

"It's fine, go," Keel nodded, then raised his arms before him, defensively positioned. He added. "And never apologize for striking well."


LUDUS FIGHTER'S BARRACKS
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It was late afternoon by the time the fighters were allowed a break.

Most retired to the barracks, where they rested in preparation for the upcoming arena fights that evening, so most of the compound was free of movement or sentient traffic. The guards still patrolled, of course, but their alert gazes tended to look over empty yards and halls, as the trainees retreated to what was considered personal quarters, but were in fact small spaces with bunk beds. Multiple fighters to a room, cramped living spaces, little-to-no personal effects or belongings, save what could be placed on a window shelf or under the bed. Sleep in those circumstances was difficult, not to mention the sound of dozens and dozens of aliens, conversations, snoring, and the smell of sweat (and equivalent other odors, from aliens without sweat glands) permeated the area.

But those who had proven themselves, the champions or prized gladiators, had it a little better; though not by much...

Keel sat on the edge of a simple bed, in a narrow room, which was solely for himself. He had the 'honor' of privacy, even though his personal room was smaller than the others, which barely allowed the Saiyan to stand upright or outstretch his arms. A few others were in similar circumstances, those like Keel who proved themselves in the arena, with their own private rooms. Again, theirs wasn't much, little more than narrow spaces between rock walls to slip into and lay down - with only a bed crammed into the far corner to call their own.

Still, for the most part, Keel couldn't complain. It gave him solitude, a chance to escape from the numerous other fighters who occupied the Ludus, and also allowed for some time to relax and think and wonder. In those moments, when training was done, and Keel was alone, he found his mind wander to thoughts of his past - of which he knew little - and who his people might be, who his parents were, and of someday returning to them. A hopeless endeavor, maybe, it had been 25 years after all, and the likelihood of Keel's parents caring about their lost son was probably long gone... but it was something, a thought exercise perhaps, which allowed Keel to escape beyond the Ludus and his situation and to see some kind of future where he had any kind of option or choice in his life.

Do I want to meet my parents? I think so, yes, Keel thought as he shifted to lay back on the short and narrow bed, his feet off the end because of his height. Do I think I ever will? Doubtful...

Keel stared up at the ceiling of the small room for a while, until he closed his eyes and drifted into a light rest. He wanted to be refreshed after the training, to be ready for any opponent in the arena that evening, and getting some sleep usually helped with that. Besides, when Keel slept, he was able to escape beyond the confines of the Ludus and allow his thoughts to create new and interesting worlds that may - or may not - have existed, where he might one day explore and see for himself...

One day. Maybe.

VICTUS CITY ARENA
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The short flight to the arena was uneventful, as the gladiators selected for combat in the arena were transported via multi-person hover vehicle, and delivered to the lower entry of the large structure. In binding chains, mainly to discourage escape attempts by overzealous fighters, the line of gladiators were led into the dark entryway, with chains clanking with each step. The guards remained alert, watchful, with weapons ready for any kind of sudden disruption of the transport process.

The routine was exactly that for the gladiators, a routine. There were some murmurs from the back of the line, but otherwise nothing seemed off, and the fighters were delivered without incident. The thick entry doors closed behind, locked, and the guards guided the gladiators into their allocated area for the duration of the arena events for the night. The space was large enough to allow them to move about, maybe even get some personal space, but remained heavily fortified and guarded.

It didn't take long for the arena notices to begin:

"Gladiators," One of the Ludus guards said, as she walked over toward the fighters. "Your combat orders are as follows..."

Keel turned to look her way, as did Shank and Grizz.

"Keel, you're fighting after those two," The guards said, as she motioned to Keel and then to Grizz and Shank. "Then you've got another fight at the end of the night."

"Who's the second?" Keel asked, eyebrow raised.

"No idea, sadly," The guard said with a shrug. "Against a champion of another Ludus. That's all I know."

Keel nodded, though sighed internally. Two fights in a night, one against a champion. That would be tough, especially if he got injured during the first one. He supposed there was little else to do but to wait and watch. With any luck, Grizz would die in his fight, and that would end whatever one-sided rivalry the human had with Keel once and for all. If Shank survived, Keel supposed that wouldn't be a bad thing.

Either way, with the fight information passed along, and each gladiator aware of if they fought - or not - it was time to get ready. Live weapons were brought into the area, which passed through under heavy guard, and were taken to the fight prep rooms. That was where each gladiator would be secluded leading up to their combat, and was where final checks on equipment and weaponry choices were completed and decided. Some opted for swords, spears, axes, basically anything with a capacity for stabbing, chopping or skewering.

Keel never used weapons, he didn't need them.

"I'm fighting before you," Shank said, as she stepped over and crossed her arms. She looked to Keel with two of her four eyes. "Sorry to hear about the multiple fights... that's bad luck. Must have been a challenge made."

"I'll be fine," Keel shrugged as he watched Grizz enter the prep room. The human glanced back, smirked, then the door closed behind him. "Hopefully he won't be, though..."

Shank chuckled, but it was obvious she was nervous. Keel had seen it before, the pre-fight nerves. It happened to everyone, but not everyone was able to control the feeling and push through it.

"Focus, channel those nerves into adrenaline," Keel said slowly, as he looked over to Shank. The Saiyan's tone was firm, low, and caused the purple alien to take a breath. "You'll be fine."

"Yeah," Shank nodded. The shakes began to recede. "You're right. Focus. Thanks."

The voice of an arena announcer came over the communicator system, as the female voice began to announce the first fight of the evening, which caused both Keel and Shank to turn their attention to the combat that began, both secretly hoping Grizz happened to perform badly...


SOMETIME LATER...
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Turned out Grizz and Shank lived to see another arena day; at least the latter was something.

That also meant it was Keel's turn to fight his first fight. And as such, the Saiyan stood to one side of the prep room, as he kept to himself and ignored everything else around him. This was his process, how he got into the right state of mind, because the next handful of minutes - inside the arena - would be the most important of his life, literally. Failure to do well in the combat that was to come would result in death, it was as simple as that, and Keel needed to be as prepared as he could be - mentally and physically - to ensure his survival.

Ignore the noise.

With white-knuckles from the grip on his gauntlet straps, Keel pulled the leather binds tight and secured them.

Ignore the crowds.

Keel knelt and began to tighten the straps on his boots, before he locked the armor plating into place.

Ignore the distractions.

The gladiator stood and checked his belt buckle, as he tightened it and checked the protective cingulum were attached correctly.

Focus only on the opponent.

When Keel felt his equipment was ready, when it felt right on his form, he turned and looked to the guard across the way. The gladiator nodded, to which the guard nodded back, then spoke into the scouter earpiece he wore. Some mumbled words were shared, a pause, then the guard walked over and held a hand to the door panel on the wall beside Keel.

"Good luck, gladiator," The guard offered another nod, as the panel activated and he stepped back. "Bring honor to Lord Lúcuma's house. Get another victory."

"Yeah," Keel muttered, as he exhaled and narrowed his eyes. "That's what's important. The Lord's honor."

Not the fact I'm fighting for my life...

When the opponent across the arena was ready, both prep room doors opened simultaneously and the gladiators were greeted with a near-deafening crowd that cheered and stomped and clapped. Keel jogged out into the arena as he felt the familiar sensation of boots in sand, just like the training yard at the Ludus, and moved swiftly into the center of the arena. Across the way, a very large form approached, as an alien of unknown origin jogged to meet in the middle of the space, and appeared to be all height and muscle; the opponent was easily two foot taller than Keel, twice as wide with broad shoulders, and was armed with a pair of mean-looking axes, one in each hand.

Both combatants came to stop beside one another. Keel stared at the alien, the alien stared at Keel. Finally, the larger gladiator spoke:

"So you're the warrior from across the galaxy, huh?" It bellowed with a chuckle. "You don't look so tough, for a Saiyan - I've killed your filthy kind before!"

Keel's dark eyes narrowed. It wasn't so much that he was intimidated, or even curious about the species of alien he faced, so much as the word it had used to reference the shorter fighter. Saiyan. Keel had heard the word said about him before, but he had always assumed it was just some kind of Canistelean term or nickname; it had never occurred to Keel that the word Saiyan could actually reference his people, since he had never met another one in his entire life...

So it's not just a name for me? Am I actually from a race called the Saiyans?

Meanwhile, the announcer spoke about the upcoming fight. She introduced the gladiators, with her words lost on Keel as he frowned at his opponent.

"Are there more Saiyans?" Keel asked, his mind whirling. "Where are they?"

"Of course there are," The axe-wielding alien glared and snarled. "Now shut up and get ready to die."

"Wait, where are they? The Saiyans?"

Overhead, the announcement sounded - "Fight!" - and the combat began, as the axe alien jumped at Keel and delivered a heavy kick to the Saiyan's chest, which sent the smaller fighter tumbling backward across the sand...

"Fight me, no more talk!" Shouted the alien as it charged with both axes swirling in front of it, as muscled arms moved in a flourish. "It don't matter where the Saiyans are, you're not leaving this arena alive!"

Keel pushed back to his feet, as he narrowed his eyes and brought his fists up protectively for defense. Now that the Saiyan had learned a vital part about his life, namely his species, it was now even more important to get out of the arena alive. But, first, Keel had to deal with the obstacle in the way...

"We'll see."

With a roar, Keel rushed at the alien opponent, as the two clashed in a flurry of powerful strikes and axe-blade deflections...

VICTUS CITY ARENA
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
An axe blade swung overhead, barely missing Keel's shoulder, as it whooshed by. The second axe followed through, as the large alien roared and continued the onslaught of deadly slashes and chops. Keel, being the smaller of the pair, was physically quicker and able to evade a number of the attacks with deft steps and twists of his body. Still, that didn't help much when the alien launched into a successful - and effective - axe combination, which so happened to be at that moment, as Keel brought his forearms up and caught the edge of a axe blade with his gauntlet--

"Argh!"

--the sharp edge chopped through, as Keel felt the sting on his arm beneath the protective armor. It seemed the Saiyan's attempts to wear the large alien down were starting to fail, as the tactic started to put Keel under more and more danger, the longer - and more often - the axes were swung at him. The situation wasn't ideal, Keel had to admit, and if it hadn't been solely for the fact the large opponent knew something about Keel's race and people, it likely would have been over several minutes ago...

Have no choice, Keel thought to himself, as he grunted and stepped away from a powerful overhead slash from the axes. I have to keep trying.

The large alien, for it's part, kept up with the pace well. The muscular arms continued to move with both strength and precision, despite wielding the axes for an extended period of time. Though, to be fair, 'extended' was relative in gladiator combat, as the bout had only been a half a dozen minutes so far. Still, Keel felt there was a steady decrease in the alien's speed, with it's breathing heavier and movement delayed, if only a little.

"A planet name, anything," Keel said with a growl, as he tried to get the alien to talk again. "Just give me something..."

The larger opponent laughed, as it felt like some advantage had been gained, by keeping the Saiyan in the dark. Keel was distracted, clearly, and that meant the opportunity to land a killing blow was greater and therefore maintaining that advantage only made sense. The alien couldn't help but continue to laugh, since Keel clearly refused to see the situation for what it was, and failed to grasp there would be no budging on information sharing.

"Your squawking about your precious Saiyans has been amusing," The muscular alien said simply, as it stepped back and looked at the blood on one axe blade. "But now it's time to die!"

Keel grimaced, as both fighters clashed again, with a combination of punches and axe-swings. Sparks flew as blade met armor, grunts and shouts sounded as both combatants reacted to the escalation in deadliness, and not a moment later did the larger alien succeed in kicking Keel once again with a solid chest impact that sent the other reeling through the sand--

"Got you!"

--then as the Saiyan sat up and started to get to his feet, the alien's mouth opened wide, and a ball of energy grew at the maw. Then with a powerful burst of crackling energy, a beam fired at Keel, and passed through the space between the opponents in a second. Keel's eyes widened. Then where he had been was engulfed in an explosion of sand, rock and smoke... the crowd went silent.

"Heh heh, too easy," The axe-wielding alien sneered, as it raised it's chin and gave a smug look at the receding smoke. "So much for being a challenge, and I thought Saiyans were meant to be--"

The alien paused, big eyes going even bigger.

"Wha?!"

The smoke cleared, which revealed a section of arena floor that was blasted backward, however Keel crouched where he had been amid the destructive aftermath. The Saiyan's arms were up defensively, the gauntlets he wore all but melted, with a mottled pattern of scorch marks over his skin. Keel breathed in and out deeply, as a low guttural sound began to emanate from his chest. The breathing intensified, as did the loudness of the noise he made, until finally Keel tore the gauntlets from his forearms and let out a roar of pure, unconstrained rage!

"Rarghhh!"

The crowd had been silent up until that moment, when suddenly the collective let out a shout of surprise to match Keel's own.

"What! How did you survive?" The alien spat, before it began to charge another mouth blast. "Die this tim--"

The larger gladiator didn't get to finish, as within an instant Keel's hand clamped around the alien's mouth, which caused the energy that started to form to fizzle. The alien's eyes were double-sized wide, as it met the glare of the Saiyan who now held a tight grasp against the front of it's face. Keel ignored the mumbles, the attempts to make a deal or share information or whatever the hell the alien wanted to do, as the Saiyan's rage boiled over and he focused purely on defeating the enemy...

"You had your chance," Keel muttered in a deathly low tone. "Now die."

With another roar, Keel flexed his entire body and pulled the larger alien - by the face and head in one hand - into a full spin, which brought the opponent around like a flailing ragdoll. Then, the Saiyan changed the momentum of the spin, as he aimed upward and threw his opponent high into the air as he released the hold on the alien's face--

"Wait, noooo," The alien shouted, as it spin through the air, axes flying in different directions when let go in panic. "I can tell you more!"

--meanwhile, on the sandy ground, Keel began to power up his energy. The Saiyan's arms and hands were spread outward to his sides, as he gathered Ki energy. A small pair of yellow energy orbs formed in front of each palm, then suddenly Keel brought his hands around and before him, and he forcefully merged the two smaller orbs into a singular large one cupped between his fingers. Sparks, a hum of energy, and the ball of energy grew and grew between both palms in front of Keel - "Final Finish!" - and then with a shout, the Saiyan pushed both the energy and his arms forward, as a massive beam of electric-discharging energy filled the space between him and the alien!

"Nooooo--" The alien shouted, as the energy beam impacted with it's falling form, and the cry ended.

The area overhead was empty, as the energy beam dissipated. The shielding on the far side of the arena was bright blue, as it had caught the end of the powerful blast from Keel, and the crowd had been saved from being caught in the attack. The Saiyan let out grunt, as the combat ended, and looked over to where Lord Lúcuma's seating box was located and offered a quick salute - a fist placed over the heart, per standard gladiator display - then started to walk toward the arena door that would take Keel back down beneath the structure to recover surrounded by Lord Lúcuma's Ludus guards and other fighters...

Shame I didn't get more out of my opponent before it ended, Keel thought as he felt exhaustion settling over him. His body ached from the energy blast earlier. Keel rubbed at some blood over his eyebrow. But I got enough. It's a starting point, anyway.

VICTUS CITY ARENA
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
When Keel stepped back into the prep room, he was immediately met by the training master Rimoya. The older Canistelean stood several yards inside the smaller space, arms folded, as he looked at the Saiyan expectantly. There was a moment of silence, as each considered what the other had planned to say, given Keel could assume the conversation during the fight had been overheard. He wasn't a fool. Master Rimoya, for his part, didn't seem to judge or anticipate a line of questioning or answers, but instead waited for Keel to speak.

"Did you know about Saiyans?" Keel said simply, as he walked over to stand before the older trainer. "Why wasn't I told?"

Master Rimoya inclined his head, before he let out a sigh.

"I did, yes," The elder Canistelean said, voice low. He glanced over his shoulder, to where several guards stood at the exit to the prep room. "And you weren't told for several reasons. Lord Lúcuma felt it best to avoid informing you of the truth about your species, as it wasn't likely to help you..."

"Go on." Keel crossed his own arms, and caught the subtle shift of the guards' hands on their weapons. "What's the truth, then?"

"Are you sure you want to know? It's not beneficial to you, despite what you think," Master Rimoya seemed resigned, but at least offered the Saiyan a chance to remain ignorant if he so chose. "Knowing won't change anything."

"I'll decide that," Keel said with a glare. "Go on."

Master Rimoya nodded, with reluctance, then unfolded his arms and placed his hands on either hip. He paused for a moment, thinking about how best to explain the Saiyans to Keel, and likely running through the worst case scenario if the younger warrior didn't accept the explanation. Still, one way or another, the encounter with the axe-wielding alien in the arena had brought about a change, it had been a catalyst, one that had been avoided for 14 years simply because Keel hadn't attacked immediately as he usually did...

"The Saiyans were a war-mongering species, filled with battle-lust and want to conquer planets. They were aggressive, relished combat, and ultimately were a culture focused on that singular notion," Master Rimoya started slowly, as he gauged Keel's reaction to the information. It was important to convey what Lord Lúcuma expected, in order to keep his prized Saiyan gladiator placated and fighting. The irony was that - right now - Master Rimoya was explaining for the sake of saving Keel's life. "However, there was a catastrophe that befell their planet, known as planet Vegeta, which resulted in the destruction of the home world... I do not know the exact time frame, but we can assume you were taken before that event, as you still live."

Master Rimoya frowned; but, whether from discomfort at the situation, or the words he had to say next, it was hard to know.

"However, it is said that the species perished in the planetary explosion. You are likely the only remaining Saiyan. That is why you have not faced others, in these arenas, I can only assume... as surely, any remaining members of your species dedicated to combat would have been picked up and recruited as a gladiator in the many long years since your arrival on Canistel, yes?"

Keel stood silent, unmoving, as he considered the words shared. Part of him wanted to refuse the old trainer's explanation, to dismiss it and hold onto the hope that other Saiyans still existed. But another part of Keel, the part that had been raised as a servant of Lord Lúcuma's household, was ready to accept the answer and reasoning as to why he hadn't been told. The knowledge of learning about your people, your culture, only to be informed afterward that they had been destroyed, wasn't exactly comforting or informative.

"I... can see why you didn't tell me," Keel said after time to think. "I'd better prepare for the next fight."

There was relief on the faces of the guards, as they relaxed and stepped to one side to free the door out of the prep room. Master Rimoya - also with a sigh and nod - stepped to one side, and placed a hand on Keel's shoulder as the gladiator passed, which caused the Saiyan to pause momentarily as the old trainer spoke in a low voice:

"I'm sorry you had to find out about those events," Master Rimoya offered a thin smile. "You do your people honor, by fighting fiercely in the arenas in their memory."

The sentiment was kind, but still rang hollow in the wake of the revelation, but Keel wasn't one to dwell on things. Well, that wasn't entirely true, he just didn't have the luxury of time, with another fight in the arena being mere hours away. And being in a state of injury, with cuts and burns on his body, and the need for replacement equipment. Right now Master Rimoya's words were as good as Keel could hope to expect, given that - really - no explanation had been warranted, since Keel was but a lowly gladiator serving at the whims of a noble.

Keel walked out of the prep room, into the larger general Ludus allocated waiting hall. He saw several gladiators and guards that looked his way, including Shank who offered a nod regarding the fight, but otherwise ignored them and walked toward the Ludus medic. The Canistelean began to fuss with a case that was clamped closed, as the medic unclasped the lid and began to rummage for the appropriate items to help the Saiyan begin a recovery - or at least as much as could be, before the next bout...

"Take a seat, Keel," The young doctor said, as he laid out the ointments and bandages. "We don't have much time, and you took a beating with that energy attack... here, take this for the pain."

The doctor offered a vial. Keel shook his head.

"It's fine, I don't need it," Keel muttered, as he sat on a wooden chair beside the other individual. "Let's just sort out the burns and cuts."

"Very well," The Canistelean doctor said with a sniff, as he put the vial back in the case. "We'll begin with the wounds. Bleeding everywhere won't help anyone, especially you. Now, stay still, while I sew the slices..."

Keel let out a sigh, as his mind filled with thoughts of a long lost people, on a long lost planet, as he imagined the events that led to the destruction of planet Vegeta. He imagined his parents, and how they looked in his minds eye, on the planet and exploding with the others of his species. It wasn't much, but it provided at least some level of closure, as Keel focused on ignoring the pain of his wounds and instead thought ahead to his continued existence in the care of Lord Lúcuma's Ludus... after all, with no other Saiyans in the universe, there was little point in dismantling the life he had, in pursuit of nothing.

A shame they're all dead... I would have liked to meet other Saiyans, I think. Well, best to concentrate on the more immediate problem: surviving another arena battle challenge.

VICTUS CITY ARENA
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It was time.

Keel stood silently in the prep room for the arena fight. He nonchalantly slipped his hands through the shaped gauntlets that secured over his forearms, before he reached up and removed several bandages from his arms and torso. The tight material would just impede Keel, and would just slip or tear off during the combat anyway, so there was no need to keep it on. Besides, whatever benefit to his recovery the things had offered had been used. The Saiyan glanced to the other occupant - aside from guards - in the room, dark eyes stared at the old training master.

"No update on the challenge," Master Rimoya said as he clenched his jaw. He stood looking out through the wall sections that allowed a narrow view of the arena and sand beyond. "You'll be going in blind. I tried to find out what I could, but the opposing Ludus refused to share."

"All right," Keel said as he looked back through the same wall sections as Master Rimoya. "It's happened before. Probably won't be the last time."

There was a pause, a quiet moment, as both considered what was to come. A challenge was always risky, as the challenger had every right to refuse sharing information. The challenger also had the right to determine the level of threat they brought against another Ludus, so long as it remained within loose guidelines set out by the pit proprietors, so it remained to be seen what - exactly - Keel would face. An android with six arms? A pack of ligers? A set of gladiator triplets? It was hard to say, so wide was the challenge rule book...

"About before," Master Rimoya said in a lower voice, as he glanced to Keel. There seemed a reluctance to continue, but the old Canistelean did anyway. "About your people... I -- well, our informants looked into it... and Lord Lúcuma's people insist there is no evidence of Saiyans outside of the Pompilius System. There's - uh - mentions, of course, but no physical accounts or witnesses. From what I'm told."

"Hm." Keel nodded. In truth, he had come to accept that the destruction of a planet likely meant the death of basically every Saiyan present. But if Lord Lúcuma's best spies and information seekers couldn't find accounts of the species, beyond mentions, then... Keel supposed that was that. "It's okay. Can't miss what I never knew. I have no reason to question Lord Lúcuma, so let's just move on."

"Hm, yes," Master Rimoya returned the nod. Clearly the old Canistelean was relieved. "A wise choice, I think. And it seems about time for your fight..."

The announcement system through the arena crackled to life, as the introduction for Keel's next fight began to sound. The announcer mentioned Keel first, to which the prep room wall section began to shift and open, which meant it was time for the Saiyan to walk out onto the sand and be presented to the crowds for the final combat event of the evening, the Ludus challenge.

Let's see what hellish challenge I'm in for.

Keel stalked out onto the sand, his boots crunched with each step, and he maintained a degree of confidence in appearance. The Saiyan still looked a little worse for wear, with burn marks and sewn cuts on his body, but few could deny the focus and readiness Keel seemed to present. The crowd was loud, as a second fight for a gladiator wasn't common at all, and it meant they were about to see Keel - a fan favorite - engage in another melee against an unknown challenger.

"Aaaaaaaand the challenger, from the Opoyo Ludus in the Kreeashi System..."

Across the arena, a wall section opened.

"Courge, the warrior Saiyan!"

From the opening, a short but broad individual stepped out of the darkness. The similarities between the two fighters was immediately obvious; both shared dark, wild hair and black eyes, with expressive intensity to match. The challenger, Courge, walked out to meet Keel, and the shorter fighter offered a smirk as he crossed his arms and raised his chin to regard the other. Spiked hair stood tall, with the new arrival decked out in the latest combat armor from the neighboring system, which offered more protection than the standard arena outfit.

"So," Courge spat, as the smirk increased. "You're the legendary Saiyan gladiator, huh?"

Keel, for his part, stood and stared. His expression was a mixture of anger and surprise, as the realization of what he had been told was thrown into clear contradiction... everyone had lied. Or, at least, hadn't looked very hard. But the truth was that Master Rimoya had assured Keel that Lord Lúcuma's people had looked into it, and had turned up no evidence of Saiyans existing in the universe.

And yet...

"It took me a while to talk Lord Opoyo into letting me face you. But now that we're here, I don't see what all the fuss is about," Courge scoffed, as he cleared his throat and put his gloved hands onto his hips. Despite being shorter, the new Saiyan projected his presence far more than Keel did. "Just so you're aware of the danger you face... I'm an elite level Saiyan. And I'm going to enjoy smashing you into a bloody pulp on the ground."

The arena was dead silent; all in the stands and seats around realized another Saiyan had appeared...


ARENA PREP ROOM
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Damnit... damn Lord Opoyo, damn his Ludus, and damn this... this damned new monkey," The old training master muttered, as he glanced between the newly arrived opponent and Keel, yellow eyes filled with concern. Master Rimoya's eyes narrowed, as he clenched his fists. "Of all the fight nights. It had to be this one, didn't it?"

Master Rimoya turned to the guards in the prep room, as he motioned quickly and gave them quiet commands. The number would be tripled, just in case Keel came back into the hall and survived the encounter, because the truth - or rather, the lie - had been revealed. Not only had Master Rimoya been implicated in the narrative to be told to Keel about his species and home planet, but the gamble orchestrated to bring Keel back under submission following the fight with the axe-wielding alien had failed... there was absolutely no way, at all, that the deception over Keel could be maintained now.

"Another Saiyan. Blast it!" Master Rimoya sneered, as he cursed the challenging Ludus, and how events had twisted to become as they now were. "Get the guards in here," The old Canistelean snapped, as he looked around. "If Keel survives, he's going to be angry. I'm going to contact Lord Lúcuma and find out how we proceed... but for now, assume we might need to put our pet Saiyan down. Permanently."

It wasn't ideal, but right now the best any of them could hope for would be for Keel to simply die.

"Lord Lúcuma," Master Rimoya said into his communication device, as he pressed the activation button. "I apologize, I wasn't aware of the other Saiyan... what would you like us to do? The likelihood Keel will believe us now is very low, especially if he survives and has to kill one of his own, after being told they don't exist in the universe anymore."

The extra guards began to file into the prep room, and took positions around the outer walls of the space.

"In my opinion, the pet monkey has lost his usefulness. I highly recommend we kill him, start fresh, and you allow me to capture you another Saiyan... I believe recent reports have them on planet Plant, the conquered Tuffle home world?"

Master Rimoya glared out of the wall section, at the back of the once-prized gladiator owned by Lord Lúcuma. Keel had been a good distraction for the crowds, a financial draw, but with the instability in loyalty and potential for the Saiyan to go rogue against his captors... well, it was time to consider replacements, and the old training master hoped Lord Lúcuma agreed.

"I await your command, Lord Lúcuma."

ARENA PREP ROOM
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Master Rimoya listened carefully to Lord Lúcuma, as the nobleman spoke into the communication device. The orders were unfortunate, the training master had put a lot of effort and time into Keel over the last 25 years, but the fact remained that the Saiyan was too dangerous and unpredictable now. The opportunity to keep the fighter ignorant had kept him under control, but with that gone, Keel was little more than a ticking time-bomb waiting to go off. And when he did, Master Rimoya had no doubt of that, then the result would be devastating. Lord Lúcuma's pet Saiyan had become strong over the years, stronger than most in the Ludus, save perhaps elite guards and Master Rimoya himself, but it wasn't a risk worth taking; there were always more Saiyans to kidnap, more monkeys they could subjugate and own for the fighting pits, so being stuck with a troublesome investment made no sense.

"I will watch him carefully, Lord Lúcuma," Master Rimoya nodded to himself, as he stared out of the gap in the wall section. His glare was aimed at the back of Keel, who stood face-to-face with the other Saiyan in the arena. "Assuming he survives, and to avoid any complications, I will have him chained and tranquilized, simply as a precaution for the after-fight gathering. Then, after the dinner with your guests in the near future, I will concoct some training accident that results in his untimely death... it will be a sad but predictable end for a gladiator, Lord Lúcuma."

The orders to prepare the next acquisition squad were confirmed, as Master Rimoya looked down to his glove and began typing on the wrist-pad built into the material. He sent the command for his people to prepare, outlining the objective to focus on another toddler Saiyan, and to be ready to leave within 24 hours. Given the Canisteleans were so far away from the more central regions of the universe, it stood to reason that sneaking onto the Saiyan home world, and taking another one, shouldn't pose too big an issue... so long as the Saiyans continued to have their guard lowered, what with the recent peaceful resolution to their war on planet Plant.

"Peaceful Saiyans are complacent Saiyans," Master Rimoya said to Lord Lúcuma, confidence in his voice. "We will get you another fighting monkey within short order, I promise."

It seemed Lord Lúcuma would take no chances. Once the dinner function in the following week was complete, Keel's life was forfeit, which is exactly what Master Rimoya would have decided, also. The old Canistelean was glad to work under such a pragmatic and logical nobleman, one who wasn't deluded by emotional connection or misguided morality. The fighting pits, the arenas, were all about business - and Keel had now become a less-than-desired investment, despite the many years he had served the household. It was time to find the next financial draw, one that Master Rimoya would oversee personally once again, and have ready for Lord Lúcuma in half the time...

Another benefit Keel provided was learning from our mistakes with his upbringing, Master Rimoya thought, as he saw movement in the arena. Things were about to begin. I can now get another Saiyan arena-ready in half the time, in six or seven years easily.

"I will see it done, Lord Lúcuma," Master Rimoya said to the communication device, before he turned it off. "And now time to enjoy Keel's final fight..."


MEANWHILE, IN THE ARENA
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Murmurs began to spread throughout the arena, as the confrontation between two Saiyans was shared to the crowd. Granted, some of the conversation was delayed and edited, but it seemed most of the conversation that took place involved confusion from the famous gladiator and annoyance from his challenger, the new arrival Courge. It was difficult to tell how restless the cavea were becoming, since one could almost hear a pin drop, though those in charge of the arena suspected the novelty - and talking - would soon wear off...

"Wait," Keel said as he held out a hand, his aim to cause Courge to pause. It seemed to work, as the other raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know others were out there. Saiyans, that is. I don't know anything about your-- our people..."

Courge, clearly expecting a fight, sighed and considered. He supposed a little bit of talk couldn't hurt, besides he wanted to see who Keel was and whether there was a warrior worth saving. Or worth killing. Keel nodded slowly as the other seemed hesitant, which indicated an opening to engage without fists for the moment. Then, with an eyeroll, Courge spoke:

"Fine. Allow me to enlighten you. First, you obviously aren't from this backwater planet, though if you needed that clarified I would have guessed you've been dropped on your head too hard. You were - clearly - born on planet Vegeta! Not only that, you're a Saiyan warrior... well, you're at least a member of the most powerful race in the universe, if not one of our warriors!"

"Planet Vegeta isn't destroyed?" Keel narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "Our race hasn't been made near-extinct, then?"

"What in blazes are you talking about, you fool?" Courge stared with clear confusion, as though he spoke to a simpleton. "No. Nothing has happened to our planet. Or my people. You, though? You clearly don't belong with the Saiyans, you pathetic Canistelean lapdog... and it will be a pleasure removing your tainted and subservient bloodline from the Saiyan gene-pool!"

"Wait--"

But Keel's protest fell on deaf ears, as Courge gave in to his rage and got bored with the conversation. The shorter Saiyan launched forward and roared with a mighty punch, which Keel blocked with a forearm guard, before a swift kick hit Keel in the stomach. Keel stumbled with a grunt, then followed up with a punch of his own, which caught Courge on the face, and knocked the shorter Saiyan into his own stumble. Back and forth the hits came, as each warrior pitted strength against strength, exchanging strikes and knocking the other backward.

"You," Courge shouted, as he delivered a punch. "Are," He followed up with another punch. "Pathetic!" And delivered a haymaker to Keel's chin, which knocked him backward and made his teeth chatter.

"We don't need to fight," Keel muttered, as he wiped blood from his lip with the back of his gauntlet. He stood up and stared at Courge. "We can leave here..."

"Leave?" Courge laughed as he shook his head. He approached Keel, arms up in a defensive posture. "I'm here to replace you, fool. I'm going to kill you, then become the Saiyan arena champion... you mean nothing to me, you're just dirt on my boot to glory!"

Keel grimaced, even as Courge attacked again. The pair exchanged blows, fists and boots flew, at rapid speed that caused limbs to blur. It had come down to pure instinctual combat, as each combatant gave - and took - strike after strike; but eventually Keel began to wear down, as his wounds began to catch up with him from the previous fight, and a stumble caused Courge's roundhouse kick to land exactly as planned--

"Argh!"

--Keel was sent sideways, as his face spun and his body followed. He hit the ground with a thunk of sand, then slid to a stop. But, not one to give up or surrender, Keel began to push back to his feet. However, a boot landed on his back, as Courge stomped down and began to laugh, pinning the gladiator and forcing Keel back into the sand.

"Such a pity," Courge said in a low voice, as he sneered. He clearly enjoyed towering over the other Saiyan, forcing him to submit. "And here I thought you might prove a challenge... I suppose it's true, Opoyo said Lúcuma took all your Saiyan spirit out of you. How fortunate your parents couldn't be here to see how pathetic their son had become, hm? How utterly pitiful their offspring was... how he isn't worth the noble blood that flows through his enslaved, servant veins--"

Keel began to breathe heavily, under Courge's boot.

"--and I'll be sure to tell them how you died. Like a worthless slug, crushed under my boot heel, hah hah!"

Filled with rage, at his situation and his life and the lies and Courge who mocked him, Keel let out a roar that shook the arena floor and vibrated the sand. Pure Ki energy radiated from him in sharp bursts, as Keel balled his fist and then from his downed position reached back and struck - he delivered a leaping uppercut to Courge, the shorter Saiyan caught by surprise at the sudden outburst, which sent the latter reeling.

"RAAAGH!"

Without wasting a moment, Keel jumped up and grasped Courge with one arm, as he threw his opponent upward toward the arena ceiling - which Courge impacted against, as the shield shuddered and kept him inside the boundary - and when the shorter warrior began to fall downward, Keel was ready and circled above to deliver a powerful kick slam--

"Ugh!" Courge was stunned, as he plummeted downward at high speed, to impact with the ground heavily!

--and from above, Keel put his hands outwards to either side. His Ki energy was low, but he was so angry and lost to battle-lust that he didn't care, and began to charge his power. The yellow energy orbs formed in front of each palm, then Keel brought his hands around and before him, and he forcefully merged the two smaller orbs into a singular large one cupped between his fingers. Fueled by Keel's rage, the energy ball expanded rapidly, even as Courge rolled over onto his back and looked up at the glowing power high overhead...

"Wait..." Courge said, as he spat blood. "Wait!"

But Keel's face was twisted in pure fury, as he thrust his arms forward and put every last bit of his energy into the attack!

"Final--"

"No, wait, Keel--" Courge went wide-eyed. "No! No, curse you lapdog!"

"--Finish!" And then with a shout, Keel sent the massive beam of electric-discharging energy downward, where it impacted with a blaze of light and explosive power, and completely surrounded Courge. The downed opponent screamed, as the energy disintegrated him, and continued to burrow deep into the foundation and underground of the arena... and when Keel was finished, there was a giant hole that was dozens of feet deep, where the shorter Saiyan had been.

"Well... that's what this 'lapdog' can do."

Keel lowered himself to the sandy arena floor. He stood there for several moments, as he peered into the burned hole, which had glistening shards of glass around the edge. That's how hot the energy had been. But, totally spent and with nothing left in reserve, Keel took several steps toward the arena exit, before he fell face-first into the sand with a thud.

Nothing... left...

The last thing Keel saw, before he blacked out, was Master Rimoya and several guards approaching to collect him from the arena...