To say things felt off leading into the Skidz rematch would be an understatement. The training happened and Coop’s timing never felt quite right, be it the bat or his impulses. All throughout the self-doubt simmered in the back of his mind, intensifying with every near-miss or wrong step. They were all too star-struck to notice his frustrations, at least. Hell, there were even a few that weren’t too bad and could make a go at the arena with more training.

Now, Coop paced on the dirt floor in his ready room, his uncle off to the side on a business call trying to book some of those Luna losers into fights. Using Coop as leverage, of course, because that was always a part of being Coop Sabre to him. Their relationship wasn’t quite in a good place, although things with Sam had never been better. She ran her fingers along the mended seam of his jacket to check for any frayed edges, Coop shrugging her off out of annoyance only to check himself and realize she was just trying to help.

“Don’t worry, it’ll hold up just fine, love,” he said.

“I know, I’m nervous is all.”

From the look in her eyes, he knew that wasn’t a lie, not that it made him feel any better. Sam had been there for him when his uncle, like the parasite he always knew he was, looked for a new host to suck dry. Family is family, though, even the leeches like Regis looking to make a quick buck.

“It’s just Skidz,” he reminded her, which in turn reminded himself. Speaking it aloud didn’t make it seem any easier. Coop was lucky in the fight against Kriger, in that Kriger didn’t give a shit about his damaged eye. He was just looking for the quick kill. Kriger? That’s a different story and refusing to regenerate his eye out of pride and still hungry for revenge against Coop made him dangerous. It didn’t matter if their last fight went Coop’s direction and he’d dismantled him limb-from-limb, either. “I can handle him.”

“Yeah...”

He appreciated the unspoken part, the words he knew she was holding back because they were right there in his mind as well: what if he can’t? The new bat felt clumsy, and the weight was all wrong on it. While he’d love to smile and pretend good intentions mattered, what mattered most was in combat and in training, this bat served him no favors, which made him uneasy about fighting with it. Coop took a few tentative swings, cursing at how wrong it felt in his hands, the whoosh it made cutting through the air and how easy it was to flick the switches on accident.

“Hey kid?” his uncle called over his shoulder.

“What?”

“They started the countdown already,” Regis said, pointing overhead at the counter above the door.

“No fuckin’ warning or nothing?” This was worse than Coop thought.

“Tuup’s a shrewd businessman,” his uncle said. “I’ll talk to him, sort this out.”

“The fight is right now!” Sam shouted. “It’s too late for that.”

“Says who? Who gave you any right to get involved in this family or any—”

“Enough!” Coop shouted. “Uncle, you make your calls. Sam, I got this.”

The timer above clicked down, leaving sixty seconds and counting. Coop gripped the bat and leaned in toward Sam, planting a kiss on her cheek. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in close with a tight grip. She was scared shitless, and she had every right to be after the last fight and how off Coop was.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered while the clock ticked down. “I’ve got this.”

Behind them, the door groaned to life, light pouring in, illuminating them standing there alone amidst the chaos. Coop squinted at the growing light and the sounds of the fans and announcers, the countdown timer resting in a green glow in zondian that he only knew through repetition meant it was fight time. Without another word, he nodded to Sam, her letting him go and watching while he walked out onto the packed dirt of the arena.

His boots crunched underfoot and the undulating sounds of the crowd flowed through his body, from his ears down through his veins. It was a power he’d missed stuffed inside the Lunar training center with those wannabes. This was where the action was and where Coop belonged; among the elite of the deathmatches. Skidz wouldn’t get in his way, not this time, not ever.

Speaking of the bastard, his menacing self stood straight and tall, barbed spear in hand and multiple arms outstretched, while Coop swung his new weapon. That tall brandian berserker wouldn’t intimidate him, not after all he’d been through already. This was a detour for Coop Sabre, not the destination. The klaxon blew and Coop rushed forward, not wasting any time. Skidz didn’t deserve all that Coop Sabre had to offer. Another few wins and Skidz would be in the rearview again and he could focus on Kriger.

Coop let out a bloodcurdling war cry, rushing the brandian with his arms outstretched, dodging the predictable stab from the spear, rotating inward and swinging the bat in a mighty arc, smacking hard against Skidz’s shoulder to no big reaction. In the rush, his thumb had hit the switch and turned the damned bat off. He could feel the warmth emanating from Skidz’s flesh, the toxic coating dripping in anticipation. While Coop fiddled with the bat’s controls, Skidz swept the spear in a long arc, smashing against the back of his knees and sending him to his back.

“Motherfucker!” Coop shouted, still gripping the bat and trying to turn the charge on.

“This feel familiar, you bastard?” Skidz seethed over him, dangling the spear over his face again.

Not bothering to respond or wait for the blow, Coop slashed upward with the bat, the power vibrating through the metal bat while it clashed against the spear. The sparks weren’t there, although it was on, metal hitting wood giving very little in the way of the tactile feedback he’d grown accustomed to. Still, it was enough to deflect the blow, Skidz stabbing into the dirt again, just like the lummox was prone to doing.

He rolled back up to his feet, hoisting the bat high overhead and bringing it crashing down against the shoulder of the mighty brandian, the poisoned, chitinous layer covering him crackling under the blow but it not breaking through. Not like Guy ever did. Coop cursed under his breath, unprepared for the barrage of blows that rained in from Skidz’s fists, the spear still buried in the ground. There was no pattern, just raw rage while Skidz screamed and unleashed fury on Cooper’s face, dropping the subpar bat to the ground with a thud while he covered up and weathered the storm.

A kick to the gut bought him some space, Coop reaching for Skidz’s massive spear instead of the bat, tugging it free from the ground and pointing it at the brandian, who bellowed a mighty laugh at the scene. Coop jabbed at him a few times, backing the massive alien up only to laughter and hisses from him. He was still trying to get a feel for the weight of the shaft, how much exertion he’d need to stab through those tough plated layers into the flesh. Guy never had a problem cracking through any of it, the barbs small and sharp enough to break through, the weight of the bat giving him the right momentum and the charges blowing this bastard to bits.

“Clever human,” he hissed.

“Fuck off, Skidz.”

Summoning the power from his chest, he threw another kick, following up immediately with a thrust from the spear that made a dull thudding noise and got stuck. Pay dirt. Cooper looked down only to see Skidz’s two hands wrapped around the shaft, leaving his other hands free, pulling the spear in closer while Cooper attempted to break free. Skidz brought a forearm down on Cooper’s shoulder with a mighty thud, his silver jacket hissing from the touch of his flesh and the power of the blow dropping him to his knees. A scream followed and Skidz leaped into the air, crashing down with his head onto the ridge of Coop’s forehead.

Things flashed and faded, the scene blurring around him while he grasped at anything he could find. Skidz hovered over him, an apparition in the mist, his laugh echoing and bouncing off the walls of his mind while he hefted the spear up overhead. Shouting and noise filled the air, Coop fighting to remain conscious, hand reaching up and touching the tip of the spear, grasping onto it with whatever might that remained before he felt the weight of Skidz’s body no longer on him and the cold darkness embraced him.