First Contact: Into the Arena

The one with the deep burnt umber fur, finally dislodged his opponents talif, that was the name of the staff they were fighting with, delivering a brutal blow to his opponents' midsection, dropping him to his knees. With a wide circular strike, he knocked him flat, before pinning him to the ground by his neck. Moving behind him, he drove his cock into his ass, fucking him from behind, there was no "I claim you," this time.

The defeated warrior lay there in the dirt, not moving as three males in robes walked into the arena, he got to his knees, bowing to the one in the center who took out a blade of some type and severed his horns from his head. The other two dragged him from the arena.

The victor picked up his victims talif and his horns and left through the same entrance he had entered.

"Whoever that is, remind me not to piss him off," Granger let out a nervous laugh.

The sound of metal on metal rang through the ship," Dammit," Jazz screamed. We had been so engrossed in the fight; we had failed to notice the two ships closing in on our flank. They had attached four grapples to our ship, possibly magnetic; I tested the engines, we were not going anywhere they didn't want us to go. Drell engaged the magnetic field around the ship reversing its polarity, still no go.

Drell told Jazz what to send, something along the lines of 'we come in peace, please don't blow us out of space,' and she broadcast it in all eight dialects. I had Granger keep the weapons charged just in case.

"Do not resist," was the answer.

"Do you think a show of force of some kind is a good idea," I looked at Drell, "maybe let them think we didn't fight on purpose?"

"I don't know about that, but they're dragging us right into that small asteroid, we probably should do something about that," it was Granger.

"I got this one," I said as I targeted the asteroid with the rail guns from my seat, Granger had claimed the weapons from his station as soon as we tested them, but I had wanted to shoot something since we left Earth. It amazed me the lack of recoil from the rail guns, the asteroid exploded into a million pieces.

"Do not resist," came the message again.

"Then don't drag my fucking ship through your garbage," I let the computer figure out the translation.

Our captors altered course around the asteroid field in front of us.

They were taking us to their home planet. Jazz ran an analysis of the atmosphere and it was a little higher in oxygen content than Earth, which would be good for us. We suited up in EVA's without the helmets and, against Drell's suggestion, with side arms. These guys had responded to force and I was not going to come across as weak.

Our landing was a lot softer than I had expected, I shut down most of the ships systems and we gathered at the airlock, waiting for the knock we knew was coming. I went first, followed by Drell, and then Jazz and Granger.

There were four Diraki waiting for us, all male but none as impressive as the one we had seen in the arena, I was guessing these were young males, possibly equivalent to the privates I had commanded back on Mars. One had decorated horns; I was guessing he was a corporal.

"Females," the one with the decorated horns shouted, pushing past me and Drell, "I claim this one," he grabbed Jazz by the arm.

She grabbed his hand and twisted, taking him to his knees, "not available, hotshot," she put her foot in his chest and pushed him on his ass.

The other three jumped into action, between Granger and me, they soon joined their friend on the ground.

I knew young males like these four from high school and basic training, spoiled rotten with no sense of accountability, I guess entitlement was not exclusive to Earth.

"Let's try this again, shall we," I reached out to the one with the decorated horns offering to help him up?

He slapped my hand away and shouted, we were soon surrounded by at least fifteen larger males armed with more than talifs, the one with the burnt umber fur from the arena stepped forward.

"Well, shit," I looked at Drell.

"I am Olan, you are to follow me," it was not a request. I led the way with Drell behind me and Jazz and Granger pulling up the rear, just like we had planned. The twenty-armed escorts and four pissed off teenagers, was something we had not counted on.

I wasn't sure if Olan was a name or a title, the translator said it as 'champion.'

"Is that your name or your title," I asked in Diraki, my affinity for the language surprised even me.

"Both," he stopped and looked at me, "how do you know our words," the look on his face said he was as puzzled as I was? His emphasis on our, indicated he was referring to their clan dialect, not the Diraki common language.

I glanced at Drell and he was possibly more confused than me.

"I learn fast," I smiled. He nodded and turned around; we continued our walk. I found it strange that there was no one out on the streets.

Our destination was the center of the city, A large circular building with eight smaller circular buildings surrounding it, each with a different banner flying outside a large pair of double doors. Except for the banners, the exteriors of the outer buildings were identical.

Two of our escorts opened the large doors and let the rest of us inside, the remaining escorts lined the walls of the room. I recognized the man in the big chair immediately, he had cut off the horns of the looser in the tribal bout with Olan. Olan walked over and stood behind him, whispering something in his ear. The young ram we had first met, ran up to the man in the chair and started blabbering to the older male, something about us assaulting him and damaging his honor.

The older male listened patiently and then motioned for the younger male to sit next to him," I am Pasit, chief of the mountain clan, my Olan says you understand our words," he began.

"Yes, I seem to," I replied.

He nodded, motioning me forward, "Who are you and why are you here," simple and straightforward, I could handle that?

"I am Rider, from a planet called Earth. This is Drell of Trellis, and these are Jazz and Granger, also from Earth. We mean no ill will," I smiled.

"Then why did you assault my son; it is a grave offence to assault one of the eight families?"

"He tried to 'claim' one of my crew. She is already claimed by another."

"Then it should have been settled in the arena, unfortunately, it is now a very grave matter as the honor of my house has been challenged."

"I apologize, but we do not know your customs."

"That is no excuse. Is this Drell your champion?"

"No, I am my own champion."

Pasit turned to Olan and talked quietly for a few minutes, "this is what will happen. You will fight my Olan in the arena. Should you triumph, you and your crew will go free. If not, my son will claim your Jazz and I shall claim you and your ship, your Drell and Granger will work in my mines," he slammed the base of his talif on the floor, "it is decided."

We were led to the arena; tribal honor fights were scheduled almost immediately. I would face Olan first thing in the morning. Our room was comfortable but not overdone. Our servant was Duros, the ram that had lost to Olan, when I talked to him in his dialect, his face brightened a bit and I was able to get a little information about tomorrows fight, it would not be to the death; only prisoners challenging their conviction fought to the death, winners went free.

He explained the wedding bouts, mostly for show but the better the female did, the better her life would be with her new mate, every once in a while, a female would win and the poor male she married would never hear the end of it. Nobody ever challenged his claim on his mate though.

Olan was the champion for the mountain clan, minerals, and lumber, it was one of the most powerful clans on the planet. Olan had been the champion for five years and had never been defeated. Duros was the champion of the plain's clan. We had heard the long list of grievances for which he had to fight for his clan's honor. They had lost some land and thirty females to the mountain clan, he had lost his horns and had to serve in the arena as a male without a clan.

When I ran out of questions, Duros left us alone and I crawled into Drell's arms to try and get some sleep, the morning would be here soon enough and I was going to need every ounce of energy I could find to face what was coming with it.

There was a disrobing ceremony, Olan and I actually undressed each other, the softness of his fur reminded me of a fox coat I had once tried on back on Earth, and then the choice of weapons, I chose a talif about the same length as the quarterstaffs we trained with back on Mars.

The announcer read out our offence, it sounded far worse than putting a bratty teenager in his place, and Olan and I entered the arena through different entrances.

Olan's first attack was tentative, I parried and answered with one of my own, the talif was incredibly well balanced. We continued circling, the attacks growing less and less tentative, mine coming only in response to Olan's, I wanted him overconfident and had no idea if it was working.

Finally, a flurry of ferocious attacks; I countered most of them but found myself flat on my ass twice. This was not going to be easy; I might even have a cracked rib. He moved in to pin me, claiming victory, but I rolled toward him, thrusting my talif up under his chin, knocking him off balance, sweeping his hooves and putting him on his ass. The move gave me enough time to scramble to my feet and regain my stance. He was already back on his feet, smiling and nodding. I motioned for him to try again. He started to circle. I tried to remember his fight with Duros, trying to analyze what I had seen, looking for patterns.

His next flurry of attacks was just as ferocious, but I countered them all, striking him on the ass as I slipped to the side and tried to get behind him. He spun, almost catching me with a fierce jab with the end of his talif. I barely managed to jump out of the way.

He cocked his head looking at me strangely," you fight well, for a female," he chided.

"You too," I returned the barb. He laughed and charged a third time, I dropped to the ground rolling into his charging hooves tripping him as he passed over me. He shouted something that didn't quite translate in to galactic standard as he hit the ground, but I got the gist; my entire lineage had been put in question. Olan had dropped his talif, I used mine to toss it back to him and motioned for him to try again as he climbed to his feet. His eyes changed, the focus was gone, his easy victory in question, he was pissed, and I had a chance.

Gauging my distance to the wall behind me, I picked my spot for my last stand, Olan was bigger, stronger, and faster than me, if I was going to win, I had to hit him with something bigger than this stick, I just hoped it worked.

"Come on poppy flower," I chided, choosing my words carefully, I had just called him the Diraki version of girly boy or a sissy; using his own dialect made it even worse. He growled, lowered his head, and charged, I waited until the last minute, dropping to my back and catching him in the stomach with my feet, I rolled back onto my shoulders and pushed with every ounce of strength I could muster. I heard him hit the wall; the crowd went silent except for those whose seats had just collapsed. Springing to my feet, I walked over to him and placed the 'U' of my talif around his neck as he clambered to free himself from the wreckage; I had won. Olan dropped his talif and acknowledged my victory.

Pasit entered the arena with the same two males I had seen when he destroyed Duros, I looked at Olan and he closed his eyes, those beautiful horns and that bastard was going to cut them off because his son was a jack ass. I would never be able to explain why I did what I did next, staring at Pasit as he walked across the arena, I stepped over Olan's body, lowering myself on top of him I cried, "I claim you," and took him inside me, riding him until he filled me with his seed. Pasit just stopped and watched in disbelief.

His juices running down my legs, I offered Olan my hand, he grabbed my forearm and climbed to his feet, claiming his talif on the way. Falling in behind me, we walked past Pasit and out of the arena, if I understood their tradition, he was my Olan now.

While Pasit's clan chief chambers had properly indicated his status, the tribunal chamber was overwhelming, Clan banners hung around the room, tribunal guards in lavish regalia stood along the walls, each at least as impressive as Olan, some more so. The tribunal sat around a massive circular table, open in the center for any who came before them to plead their case. Nine very impressive males, decorated horns, luscious fur covering their bodies, colorful robes draping their shoulders, sat around the table; they were the chiefs of the eight clans. The Kilar sat opposite the opening, his chair significantly higher than the clan chiefs, his horns and robes were the most elaborate in the room, his name was Anat. Pasit sat three to his right.

They took four hours to deliberate on Pasit's challenge to the outcome of the battle, listening to all accounts of what had happened since we had shown up, bathed and dressed in my EVA, I gave my side of the story. They finally decided that as unusual as it was, I had claimed Olan in accordance with tradition.

With that resolved, I approached Anat, "We will need to stay for a few days to make repairs to our ship, but I am concerned about others challenging my crew and having a repeat of this morning's events," I smiled.

He looked at the chiefs around the room, there was no dissention and there would be no challenges. Pasit abstained from the vote and stormed away from the table.

What had been so formal a few minutes ago, turned into a social mixer, someone produced a cask of Diraki ale, passing around large mugs of the frothy amber liquid, one sip and I knew I needed to be careful, I had proved I could fight, but up against their ale, I was a lightweight.

Pasit stood to the side glaring at me as the other chieftains surrounded me and my crew, bombarding us with questions and answering ours without reservation. As I mingled, I noticed that Olan was never more than a few steps behind me, it was both comforting and disconcerting at the same time.

When he sensed I had had too much, Olan helped me make my apologies and made sure we all got back to our ship, he stood outside the door while Drell and I took a much needed nap; the loud moans and the smell of apricot didn't seem to faze him in the least. He did his duty, nothing more, nothing less. Something was bothering Olan, but I didn't know him well enough to pick up on what it was.

We were well into day three of trying to figure out what was wrong with the FTL drive, I had left Drell and Granger to it and headed into town with my stoic shadow, to see if Anat had any engineers that might be able to offer a different perspective on the problem, and to see if I could pick up a small cask of Diraki ale to either celebrate our success or drown our failure in finding the problem, in the back of my mind I wondered how the ale would mix with the sweet smell of apricots.

Daris, the Diraki capitol, was actually a very busy city, people everywhere, most walking with a large number of speeders moving through the crowded streets or flying overhead. Their colorful dress complimenting the myriad of colors in their fur, I even got to where I could recognize the clan markings. The tribunal had closed the city when we had been discovered to allow time to analyze the threat, why they let Pasit send his son to do the introductions, or if he had just taken it on himself, I had no idea. There were one or two minor incidents when members of the mountain clan, chided or even challenged Olan and me; Olan dispatched them without breaking a sweat.

"Pasit does not forget," Olan said softly as the second challenger fell.

"Then I'm glad you're with me," I smiled, trying to get any response from him.

"I will do my duty," he responded with a heavy sigh.

Anat's home was surprisingly humble, spacious enough for him and his family, but modest by any standards, it bustled with life, a boisterous female riding heard on a group of small Diraki playing some game in the front yard while Anat sat on the porch laughing approvingly.

He stood and waved Olan and me through the gate as if he were expecting us. We joined him on the porch, I sat in the chair he indicated, and Olan stood behind me.

"You are not used to an Olan, I can tell," Anat smiled at me.

"I've always been able to take care of myself," I smiled back. His nod acknowledged that I had claimed my Olan.

Possibly the most beautiful Diraki I had seen walked out onto the porch carrying a tray with two glasses of what I would compare to lemonade, tart and sweet and delicious. Her smile was like the rising of a third sun, her fur bright white with accents of rose pink, her robes of Anat's clan, with her horns just visible through the thick fur.

"My youngest, Sira," Anat pulled her close. I watched her face, the smile was not for her father and definitely not for me, I glanced back at Olan and his whole demeanor had changed.

"Olan, I think I will be safe here, perhaps there is some way you can be of service to the Kilar or his family while we are his guests," he bowed and followed Sira into the house.

"You are wise for an outsider," Anat smiled as he took a sip of his drink.

"It was pretty obvious," I smiled, "how do I fix it?"

"Why would you? Olan is strong and will serve you well, you saved his honor and gave him a future when you claimed him. Sira has many suitors."

"But none she looks at like that, I'll wager," I smiled broadly, "besides, the cost would be too high, and a good leader takes care of her people before herself."

"I wish Pasit had your wisdom," Anat laughed.

"What if...," I started. Anat and I talked for hours discussing traditions and their complex, sometimes surprising ramifications, ultimately laying out a plan that would solve many problems for many people, paramount of which were Olan and Sira, and all that needed to happen was for someone to give his daughter a nudge; the rest should just fall into place.

The next morning, and old grey Diraki showed up at the ship with a small team of younger males. He was Tasik, the inventor of Diraki FTL drives and was just as eager to see what we had as he was to help us get our engine working again. The younger males were here to peruse the stuff we had in our cargo bay, Anat had agreed to purchase some of our surplus so we would have Diraki currency to better enjoy his city; there were strict rules, no weapons and no pheromones, he had heard legends of such things and didn't want his people exposed to such decadence; like claiming your spouse and taking her in front of an audience was mild.

Tasik fell in with Drell and Granger like old friends while Jazz and I played vendor to the others, Olan stood guard outside the cargo bay. When they finished shopping, we had an impressive stack of Diraki credits, and they had relieved us of a bunch of stuff we had planned on selling in the ring. Jazz and I found Tasik, Granger and Drell sitting on the floor by the engineering station drinking beer and swapping stories.

"I'm guessing you guys figured something out," I sat down next to Drell?

"Yeah, dirty gas," Granger threw in an old Earth analogy, "our little backup plan, he pointed to the EVA power supply Jazz and I had attached to the core, " we could tune the power from the core but not from this little guy. That last jump, we tried to tap into a higher resonant frequency and pushed the core hard enough that it pulled energy from the EVA and we got dissonance. Tasik here found it right away. We didn't even think to look. We installed a switch and it's all good."