“You have wounded a wandsman, so you must be put on trial.” Cal’Bain smirked, his all-green eyes boring into Rick.

Al’Kara spoke up. “The wandsman is the one who broke the guest rights first, Cal’Bain. You can’t—”

Cal’Bain swept a hand over Al’Kara. “Al’Kara, you must be tired. Please, go rest.” Rick watched as she staggered for a moment before Cal’Bain’s men took her and swept her behind the same partition they had left moments before. It left the tent empty save Cal’Bain, Rick, and the wandsman. Al’Kara’s uncle turned his all-green eyes to Rick. “Now, we can speak as men,” Cal’Bain said with a soft smirk. He turned his green eyes toward Rick. “You wounded the wandsman, Ceb. You will be put on trial for it.”

Rick shook his head. “You underestimate your niece, sir. She is a strong woman and knows what she spoke of. That man broke guest rights first,” Rick said, pointing at Ceb, whose shoulder was now uninjured. The wandsman smirked at Rick’s confusion. “However, if I am to be put on trial, I shall face it.”

“Would you like to have a fair fight?”

Without thinking, he said, “Yes.” Then Rick realized what Cal’Bain said. “Fight? You mean the trial is—”

“Ah, trial by combat it is,” Cal’Bain completed Rick’s words, a small smirk on his face growing brighter.

“What does a ‘fair fight’ involve?” Rick asked, looking from Cal’Bain to Ceb and back.

“No mental tricks from Ceb. And no help from your suit,” Cal’Bain said, pointing at Rick.

Rick let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Wonderful. This is not going to end well. He touched the hilt of his Tellic. “And, no rayguns, of course.”

“No. Knives!” Ceb said with a fierce smile.

“Ceb is the injured party and chooses weapons and venue,” Cal’Bain said.

Rick shook his head. So much for diplomacy. “Yes, I accept trial by combat.”

There was laughter from both Ceb and Cal’Bain. “Good,” they both said as one.

“What did I get myself into?” Rick muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

* * *

Rick paced in the small tent, looking out into the area he’d seen briefly before being shoved into the small preparation tent before the trial. There was a large crowd gathering in the stands who cheered as they watched beasts from Mars’s badlands. The fight between Ceb and himself was the main event, and apparently, their bloodlust needed to be primed by the beast fights. It was warm and humid in the tent, and Rick was already sweating.

Al’Kara had left to see if she could talk her uncle out of it. Rick knew it was a fool’s errand but didn’t stop her. He paced around the small tent, feeling exposed without his suit. It was in the corner, a portion of it exposed to the weak sunlight outside so it would continue to charge. Part of him wanted to grab it, take his chances running, and get to his rocket. His Tellic would be more than a match for any of the weapons the Golgoro had. Then he spotted a few of the wandsmen hefting longarm rayguns of their own. They were patrolling the area around the arena, and this put the thought out of his head. It also isn’t the way of the Space Rangers to run from problems.

He settled down on the small stool that was the only piece of furniture in the tent and looked down at the dagger he had been given. It had a bone hilt with a blade made of the strange glass-like stone the Golgoro used—not obsidian but something like it. It was as sharp as steel and not as brittle as obsidian; he’d slammed it twice into a tent pole, and there wasn’t even a chip.

Al’Kara entered, her face grim.

“Your uncle won’t allow it to be stopped?”

“No, beloved. I don’t understand why. It is as if he’s not in his right mind.”

“Much like you in Lotus?”

“You don’t think—”

“I only know something has happened on this planet. And I can’t investigate it because of the trouble I keep getting myself into.”

Al’Kara came up to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind. “Was it all trouble, beloved?”

He touched her arms and smiled. “No, not all of it.” It hadn’t even dawned on him until she’d touched him. She was helping him, trying to save him, and she didn’t have to. He felt that she was honest. She did care for him, and he was starting to feel the same way about her. Dammit, Command is going to hate it, but she needs to come with me. If I win this, we will have to leave Mars. The if was the issue.

“I wonder how fair the fight will really be?” Rick asked.

Al’Kara came to stand before Rick and smiled. “For my part, there is nothing I can do. You had me bind myself against using my powers on you.”

Rick sighed. “I know. I suppose we can only hope that Cal’Bain will be honest as well.”

“With the Temple here and so many other Golgoro? He will have to respect the pact we made, love.”

Nodding, Rick took up the knife given to him by Cal’Bain. “So, can you give me any pointers? I was never a fan of using a knife.” He’d already taken a few quiet moments to berate himself in private. He had been schooled in the basics of knife combat in the Academy, but everything from those lessons flittered out of his head the longer he tried to focus on them. Much like the way most of his training slipped away the longer he stayed on Mars. He wanted to run, flee with his suit, hide somewhere, get to the ship, and blast off. Run from Mars and head to his next assignment. Like a coward.

That wasn’t going to happen. He gripped the bone-hilt dagger harder, and his shoulder ached. The recent wound from the sentinel in Thrane’s fortress, from what felt like years ago, was throbbing. Al’Kara covered the wound on his shoulder with a cool touch. He looked up at her while she smiled down at him. He felt something cooling and soothing enter his flesh and lift away the burning pain.

“How?” he asked, confused.

She held up her hand, revealing a small device affixed to her palm. It was a gold device with brass rings attached to its body, which looped over her fingers. An asymmetrical plate of dark metal with strange glowing crystals sat atop the golden disc. The glow diminished as she pulled it from his shoulder. “A healing device. Think of it as a way around our pact,” she said with a wink.

“Thank you,” Rick said, flexing and testing his shoulder. “I—”

Al’Kara put her hand over his mouth. “Not now.”

“Well, I—”

“Beloved, you can’t run from this. You have to face him.”

Rick cocked an eyebrow. “You said you wouldn’t use your powers on me.”

She let out a small laugh. “It is written plainly on your face. If it hadn’t been for me, you would be back at your ship.” Her face fell as she spoke. “It is my fault you’re in this mess.”

“No, I made the choice to check out what was wrong at Lotus. I had a gut feeling something was wrong there.” He stood up, took her hand, and pulled her closer. “And I have no regrets.” He meant it.

“None?” she asked, a small smile on her face.

“None,” he said, giving her a kiss on the lips. It was a little less chaste than he thought he should give her.

He pulled away, and she gave him a bigger smile. “I am glad to hear it.”

“Same . . . beloved,” he said, turning and walking away before she could say anything to make him stay.