The crowd was intoxicating, difficult for Coop to leave behind with his new weapon of choice. Recreating Guy was something kicking around in his subconscious, a kernel of an idea that only came together when the time was right. Medics attended to Ramirez while Coop staggered through the curtain, bat in one hand and his jacket in the other. Before his eyes could adjust to the dimmer lighting, the rush of Sam’s body pressed against his hit him like a jolt of energy. She squeezed tight around his shoulder, stinging at his fresh wounds and making him recoil.

“Ah, fuck,” he cried.

“Coop, you asshole,” she backed off, noticing her hands covered in his blood. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been covered in your blood, but I just...”

“Hey, it’s good.” He shot her a grin. “You saw that, right?”

“It never gets easier to watch, you know that?”

“That guy could fight, huh?” he asked.

“I’ve never seen you fight like that before. It’s difficult to watch, Cooper.”

“This place is different,” he said. “C’mon, you mind helping patch me up?”

“Fine.”

His poor shirt had to be cut off of him, sticky with sweat and blood, clinging like a second skin. Sam tended to his wounds without saying much, cleaning him off and squeezing the sealing gel onto them. It wasn’t the same as having a regen tank around, but it’d do in a pinch. The adrenaline was still pumping from the fight, with the bat sitting on top of the case, the barbed wire he haphazardly affixed to it sticking out, and would need some time with a set of pliers to secure it properly. Still, it made him smile to see such a magnificent thing, especially knowing where it came from.

“Hey, Sam...”

“What?” she asked, wiping sealing gel on his shoulder.

“I couldn’t do this without you, you know that?” It was the truth, perhaps something he hadn’t said aloud enough.

“No shit, dummy,” she said.

Across from him in the locker room was Ramirez being patched up, laid out on the narrow wooden bench while a few of the other combatants applied the same gel and dealt with his groaning. Fighting in the Intergalactic Deathmatch was prestigious and visible, but scenes like this didn’t exist there. After a fight like that, his uncle would pace around, calling other managers to secure sponsorships and new fights. Tuul would make an appearance, mumble something cryptic that got Regis upset and both would wander off, then it would be into the regen tank. It was a lonely existence. There was at least a sense of camaraderie here on Ushinatta.

Ignoring the aches and pains, Coop stood up while his body creaked and fought him. Sam shook her head at his stubbornness, Coop leaning down and planting a kiss on her cheek and lumbered over toward Ramirez. The battered combatant saw Coop approaching, pushing two guys attending to him away and sat up in what looked like a laborious decision. Slumped over, still a bloody mess with his tattered leather vest and hair hanging down, he glanced up at Coop.

“That was a fight,” Ramirez said.

“Good fight, brother,” Coop held his hand out.

“Yeah, good fucking fight.”

They clenched hands, Coop slapping him on the shoulder and giving a nod, letting him lay back down. Even though it had been years, the spirit of Ushinatta remained the same. This wasn’t about money or power, it was about something more. Ramirez was too rough around the edges to make it on the arena circuit. As much as those tubes, his signature weapon, hurt, they only stung, and the impact didn’t last long. They looked brutal and spectacular, but against a Kriger, or even a Skidz, the blow would get swatted away like a fly. That chain was no joke, though.

“C’mon,” he motioned to Sam. “Let’s go back and get some rest.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

She hefted up his bag onto her shoulders, handing him the case with his latest bat creation jammed inside. On the way out, Marta was shuffling around in her office, Coop stopping to thank her for the chance to fight again. The older lady paused, glancing up at him and shaking her head.

“Reckless, you know that?” she asked.

“Thanks, though. I needed this.”

“Leaving so soon?” a voice came from the periphery.

“Huh?”

Coop turned to see a man leaning against the wall back in the hallway, shorter than he was and wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off to show his heavily scarred up arms. The figure stepped forward, into the light to show off his pock-marked forehead and messy jet black hair. Coop didn’t need an introduction, knowing full well he was in the presence of Ushinatta’s true legend.

“TAKASHI himself,” Coop said.

“So you remember,” he said.

“Who’s the guy with the scars?” Sam asked.

“Sam, this is TAKASHI, or, well... that’s what name he goes by in the ring. But—”

“TAKASHI will do,” he interrupted. “I’m surprised to see you back here. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Years, actually. Can’t believe you’re still going, either,” Coop said.

“Looks like you crafted yourself a new tool here tonight.”

“Yeah, just when I wasn’t expecting it, everything just fell into place.” If TAKASHI was there to antagonize him or catch up on old times wasn’t clear, leaving Coop guarded. “We were just gonna head in for the night.”

“Like I asked: leaving so soon?”

“The station? No, I’m not ready to leave yet.”

“Good,” TAKASHI said. “That was a good fight, the pit loved it, but...”

“But?” Coop asked.

“You and I both know that wasn’t a Coop Sabre fight.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’ve been in a funk, came here to clear my head, try out some new things,” Coop said.

“Some of us don’t have that luxury, Coop Sabre. To some of us, this is all that there is. There are no bright lights, big money fights, fans or groupies. Just Ushinatta and the pit.”

“Hey, I’m not a fucking groupie,” Sam said.

“Of course you aren’t,” TAKASHI said. “Groupies don’t come to Ushinatta, do they?”

“Man, I’m fucking tired. I got off my ship and stepped into a fight. Whatever this is, I’m not in the—”

“Be back here tomorrow night,” TAKASHI said. “Can you be ready by then? I’m not gonna let you off easy, you know that?”

“I wouldn’t expect it.” Of course, he wanted to fight. If Coop was honest with himself, this is why he came all the way to Ushinatta; to be pushed to his limit by the only man he’d ever respected. “What about you? Can you still keep up?”

“Haven’t lost since you left, Sabre.” TAKASHI laughed, strolling back down the dark hallway toward the locker room, calling out behind him. “Don’t expect to lose any time soon, either. See you tomorrow, Sabre.”