July 6th, 2486 - Planet Sanctuary, Sanctuary City - Koltura District - Pazzik’s Mechanics

Amarat was getting closer, and Angora knew he would eventually run out of space to retreat. He turned, hoping to find Abiona behind him, but she was gone. Had she fled? He couldn't blame her ... but for whatever reason, it still felt a little like a betrayal.

‘What, your girlfriend run off did she?’ Amarat cackled. ‘That’s the thing about power: if you’re not strong enough to stand and fight on your own, then you’re not worth anything to anyone else! You become a ball and chain … and people hate being held back by those less able…!’

Angora flinched. The sleeve of his hoodie suddenly felt much heavier, as if a block of iron had been dropped on his right shoulder. He flexed the mechanical muscles in his prosthetic arm … and felt nothing. She was right. He was too proud to give up, but there was nothing he could do to stop the serpents from tearing him apart. It was only a matter of time.

‘Eat my nozzle you python-headed bi—!’

The sentence, yelled by Abiona, was cut short by a deafening hiss, the last word lost in the chaotic roar of noise. Angora turned his head sharply and saw Abiona, lugging a fire extinguisher in one hand, the other gripping the nozzle firmly, as a cloud of gas erupted from the tip and engulfed Amarat. Amarat careened backwards, coughing violently, her face no longer visible beneath the billowing, milky gas.

‘Kick the hell out of her Angora!’ Abiona cried over the din.

Elated and reinvigorated, Angora lunged forwards, dropping to his thigh and sliding towards the doorway. He needed to keep the writhing mass of serpents as far away from his legs as possible. For the first time, he noticed it: tiny bolts of red lightning gathered around his legs, and rippled along his thighs and calves. He kicked out, knocking Amarat from her feet, and she fell towards him; suspended for a split-second in mid-air, her face contorted in shock as Angora kicked again, connecting with her stomach and blasting her through the open door and out of the shop.

*

Ichiro had reached his limit. Each of his arms and both of his legs were pinned to the wall by Cosmopoh, who rammed his knee hard into Ichiro’s gut between bouts of taunting.

‘Just say, “I give”—you’ve more than earned my respect’, Cosmopoh said. ‘Any more and something’s gonna’ give … and medical science just ain’t advanced enough to fix whatever’s about to give inside you!’

Ichiro spat what little saliva he could muster into Cosmopoh’s face. The knee raised and Ichiro squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t karma. He had lived the most honest life he could, all things considered. If he died today it was Abiona’s fault, and if there was an afterlife, he was going to spend it haunting every successive generation of the Var Oostabar Gan Kuji bloodline. The knee did not connect. Instead, Ichiro heard a woman shriek, and felt the powerful arms shudder, heard Cosmopoh give a sharp exhale and felt himself drop, suddenly, to his knees. Doubling over in agony, Ichiro opened his eyes and looked up.

‘W—what the hell happened Amarat!?’ Cosmopoh asked, bewildered. He knelt, holding the young, heavily-tattooed alien woman with long silvery hair and large, watery eyes in his hands.

Gas spilled from the open doorway of Pazzik’s Mechanics, and the young Gorguran thug named Colado tumbled from the shop, coughing and yelping. A silhouette appeared in the door frame. Long, rabbit-like ears and fiery, crimson eyes came into view, and Angora emerged from the cloud of gas, the muscles in his legs visibly tense, his brow furrowed aggressively.

‘I didn’t think—he’s all yours Cosmopoh, I can’t—he’s too—!’ Colado wheezed, slithering towards the entrance to the alleyway as fast as his tubular, aching body would allow.

Cosmopoh slung Amarat over a shoulder with one arm and stood, tensing the three free arms.

‘I’m sorry, Ichiro … I misjudged your opponent. I won’t let it happen again’, Angora said, his voice low and quiet.

Ichiro managed a shaky thumbs-up.

‘Of course you won’t, Imperial slave’, Cosmopoh growled. ‘Once I’ve torn those fluffy ears from your head and beaten your lanky Bungirban body into paste, you won’t misjudge anything ever again!’

They stared each other down from across the divide. Neither dared to move; the time they spent sizing each other up would decide the fight. Cosmopoh moved first, and Ichiro knew that mistake would cost him dearly. Angora reacted. He would know exactly how to counter each move, every motion of his enemy’s plan of attack had been telegraphed by that one, simple motion, after all. Cosmopoh’s right foot moved forward. Angora’s left leg struck out. He dodged one fist, connected with the right leg and barely dodged the second fist as it swung wide. The giant toppled, flailing, brought down by his sheer size with a single, powerful strike to the shin. The second kick landed in the alien’s kidney; all was fair in love and war, and it was satisfying payback for Ichiro. Then Cosmopoh was scrambling to his feet, only to fall again to a kick splitting open his lower lip.

‘Give up and go home’, Angora said, landing another kick on Cosmopoh’s ribs.

Cosmopoh … sheltered Amarat. Each time he fell, he moved her out of the way of his lumbering body, or covered her head with one of his three free arms, until—a kick to the gut caused Cosmopoh to roar out in pain and stagger back. The spectral, third and fourth arms exploded in a shower of shimmering blue particles, glimmering in the light of the newly risen moon. He grabbed Amarat in both arms, cradling her and stopping her from hitting the ground.

‘Fine … I give!’ Cosmopoh croaked, veins popping on his violet forehead. ‘You could kill me if you wanted to … just … let us go, will you? Please. We won’t trouble the old man again.’

‘Get out of here.’ Angora said,

With that, the fight was done. The moon rose high, and Cosmopoh dragged himself from the alleyway, cradling Amarat in his enormous arms as they disappeared into the neon soaked streets of Sanctuary City.