Chapter 8
The latter looked around slowly, taking in the details of his new surroundings. This room, though also metal, was much bigger than his previous confinement. A vast circular space in its center was surrounded by a ceiling-high latticed fence, giving it a semblance of a cage. Thirty or more Athrinians have gathered around the fence, eyeing him in anticipation.
�What is this place?�
The Athrinian smiled condescendingly, forcing him inside the caged space. �This is where our criminals are brought to pay their retribution to the Athrinian society.� He turned to the nearby guard. �Bring in the other one � the Klingon.�
The guard blinked in astonishment, throwing a quick evaluative look at Chakotay. �Are you sure you don�t want to start him off with someone smaller, Sir? It won�t be much of a fight,� he said disdainfully, pointing his hand at the prisoner.
�Do not underestimate this one, Kanthar. It will be a good fight.�
The guard nodded and walked out, only to return a few moments later, followed by a tall fierce-looking Klingon surrounded by two more guards. The Klingon was thrown inside the cage with Chakotay, and the latter watched him curiously, still not fully comprehending the implications of what was about to happen.
�You want me to fight him?� he asked, incredulously. �Why?�
�Like I said before,� Sedaar drawled calmly, �our prisoners have the power to decide their fates for themselves. Whether you live or die today depends solely on you.�
He gestured to one of the guards, and two short double-edged swords landed with a loud bang onto the metal floor next to the prisoners. The Klingon quickly grabbed one of them, even before the latticed door was shut behind the guard, and clasped it tightly in his hand, casting a strained sidelong glance at his future opponent.
�I suggest you pick up your weapon, Commander,� Sedaar commented in a calm voice, �or else the fight will, indeed, be too short. You wouldn�t want to disappoint all these people, now, would you?� He made a wide hand gesture, encompassing the entire Athrinian audience in the room, and repeated haughtily, �Would you?�
�You have got to be kidding,� Chakotay muttered, trying to suppress his disgust. �There is no way in hell that I�m going to be your game boy, Sedaar!�
The Athrinian shook his head, looking somewhere past him. �Somehow, I don�t think you have much of a choice in that, Commander.�
Chakotay followed his gaze, turning just in time to see the Klingon rush toward him with his sword. The Commander darted to the side, barely avoiding the sharp blade.
�You don�t have to do this!� he yelled, as his opponent went in for another attack.
�There is no other way, Human!� the Klingon growled, swinging the sword in his direction. �One of us must die!� His blade circled in the air, landing heavily on Commander�s left shoulder, and Chakotay cried out in pain, clutching his shoulder, as he fell on his back. The torn material of his Starfleet uniform instantly became sodden with blood underneath his fingers, and his vision darkened briefly from the sharpness of the pain. The Klingon raised the sword above him, preparing to strike again, and Chakotay rolled to the side, biting his lip to keep himself from screaming. The weapon�s blade struck the metal floor where he lay only a fraction of a second earlier.
�Pick up your weapon!� the Klingon bellowed, advancing on him, and Chakotay complied, grunting as he pushed himself up on his feet. The Athrinians cheered, delighted in anticipation of a good show, and the Commander felt rage against these people wash over him like a tidal wave, blood rushing to his face. He will show these dogs! His survival instinct kicking in, he raised the heavy blade above his head, just as the Klingon�s sword came crashing down on it. The blades met with a deafening clang, the force of the impact bearing heavily down on him. The Klingon was stronger, and doubly so, now that his opponent was wounded, and he was pushing down on the blade with all of his weight, forcing it dangerously close to the Human�s face.
Chakotay�s strength was faltering, but he resisted, biting his lip till it bled to drown out the burning pain in his left arm. The Klingon let out a roar, growing impatient with this stalemate, and, pressing sharply on the handle of his sword, he managed to strike his opponent roughly in the jaw, sending him flying across the cage.
Chakotay�s back hit the metal fence, and he fell forward onto his face, barely hanging on to consciousness, as the ocean of pain engulfed his mind.
�Already giving up, huh? Weakling!� the voice of his spirit guide whispered contemptuously inside his mind.
�I can�t � go on,� he mumbled weakly.
�No,� the voice hissed, �You can�t give up! Not if you want to see her again.�
Kathryn� Her image came before him, pushing away the pain, and he lifted himself up on his arms, forcing his eyes to focus against the red haze that clouded his vision. He had dropped his sword during the fall, and he saw it now � lying a few feet away from him ... just out of his reach. He knew the Klingon would use this opportunity to finish him off. The next few seconds were going to decide everything: a brief moment, barely long enough to catch one�s breath, was going to determine the ultimate difference between life and death � for both of them. They both knew it; their faces mirroring that desperate determination so characteristic of those on the threshold of death who are willing to do almost anything to hang on.
Chakotay jumped toward his weapon, and, just as his fingers closed around its rough handle, he turned to his opponent, blade first. The Klingon�s body jerked suddenly, and he froze in mid-step. The sword that he raised to strike the Human plummeted to the ground, as his hands clasped around the sharp piece of metal that imbedded itself in his chest. Chakotay let go of his weapon, staring at his would-be killer, a shocked expression on his face. The Klingon ran onto his sword, intentionally � Chakotay was almost certain of it.
The Klingon ripped the blade out of his body, letting out a blood-curdling scream, and fell to the ground, staining the gray metal surface with the crimson red of his blood. And then, as Chakotay bent over him, carefully turning him onto his back, the Klingon grabbed him by the arm, pulling him closer, and, choking on his own blood, spat out, �I�ve won, Human � I�m free�.�
Chakotay recoiled, looking at his now dead opponent with eyes full of sheer horror. �I was right!� The Klingon did do it on purpose, giving up at the very last minute on the life that, he knew, would be lost sooner or later, freeing himself from the terrors of what was to come. How many days, or months, or � years did he have to spend in their prison to despair so much that death itself seemed a more pleasing alternative? How many of such fights did he have to endure before deciding to end his life on the sword of a much weaker opponent?
�No. NO!� Chakotay slammed his fist against the cold metal of the floor, spinning around at the sound of the opening of the door behind him. �No more!� he spat out, flames of pure rage burning in his dark eyes. �I won�t participate in any more of your shows. You�ll have to kill me first! You hear?!!!� His screams echoed thunderously inside the metal walls, and the guards looked to their superior in hesitation, uncertain as to how to react to that blood-covered Human with defiantly clenched fists.
Sedaar nodded calmly, and the guards moved in, carefully surrounding him from all sides. Chakotay whirled around like a cornered wolf, diving for his weapon, but they didn�t let him reach it. He fought them, throwing punches left and right, trying to make a breach in their blockade. He managed to bring down one of the Athrinians, when a well-aimed punch just below his ribcage knocked the wind out of him, causing him to drop to his knees, gasping for breath. Seconds later, a steel tip of a someone�s club hit him above the temple, shattering the world around him into pieces like a sheet of glass, leaving nothing but darkness.
Sedaar walked inside the fighting ring, his eyes gleaming unkindly, as he observed the unconscious man at his feet. �Unfortunately, Commander, you seem to have forgotten that you are no longer in the position to give out orders,� he said, as if the latter could still hear him. �Besides, if I killed you now I would be doing you a favor. And if there is one thing that I�m not, it�s your benefactor.� He gestured to the guards, �Take him back to his cell.�