Chapter Six

The roar of the crowd was a constant rolling thunder, unceasing, deafening and unyielding. Wannabe-net-stars spoke into floating camera-spheres or the camera in their wrist-device, all hyping up the feel of being present. The real celebrity Netcasters were either settling into reserved box seats in the front, or were stepping into VIP lounges filled with projectors of the battlefield. It was in such a lounge that Vicki wandered in, immediately welcomed and greeted by the various men in suits already tipsy with wine and champagne. Yet they all hushed, surprised to find that Vicki's plus one was not the typical celebrity gentleman randomly selected from her digital rolodex, but instead was a fetching young blonde woman. They both wore sparkling, sleeveless dresses, but Vicki's was a magenta shade fitting to her slim, taller build while the short, curvaceous blonde wore blue.

Vicki weaved through the crowd expertly, remembering every gentleman's name—or so it seemed, though each one was chimed into her earpiece should she forget a name or face—taking and exchanging offered beverages without a single sip. None of the gentlemen seemed to mind that she never drank from their offered glass or that she'd trade them with other men, all until she finally placed the last on a serving tray. Leanna followed behind, stuttering in comparison, struggling to refuse the drinks, left holding two by the conclusion to the cluster of men. With a soft chuckle Vicki took the glasses, placing them on a separate server's tray, before taking the blonde's delicate fingers into her own. "You're used to courting boys, I see," Vicki said with a smirk, "but surprisingly you've little knowledge on men of power."

"I um," Leanna said, looking around the lounge, "I often ducked out of my father's dinners... and I was never really seen by those men, just evaluated as potential marriage material for their sons." With a gentle hand Vicki lured Leanna onto a two-cushion love-seat, crossing her legs, the dress riding up her thigh and offering the faintest glimpse of her hindquarters, just as she had desired.

"Don't worry," she said with a smile. "Though no one expects this match to last long, I have a feeling everyone's going to be surprised. So no need for us to... entertain the gentlemen..." Vicki then smiled and gave Leanna a wink. "Or ward them off." With that, the brunette summoned a holo-display to open before them, and swapped through the different cameras until one settled on their target: Geoffrey Burns.

~*~*~*~

Geoffrey was pretty good at shutting the noise of the crowd out of his mind. He'd even done it in cleared out bar basements, where everyone was so packed in and the space so tight that the jeers and shouts had nowhere else to escape to. Here, it was even easier as the crowd, though loud in this open-air arena, blended into a single volume of white noise. Yet what was different was the smell. No scent of sweat, no hint of dried blood, stench of booze, burnt oil, it was so... clean, with only the salt lingering upon the ocean waves wafting into his nose. It should have been all the more calming, but it unnerved him. This wasn't an environment for two men to pulverize one another, it was an environment to relax and be at peace. That he was about to go out and not only fight, but fight for his live, drove his mind back to the crowd, the lights, the whiff of buttered popcorn carried by the breeze.

"Take your place in the center of the ring," a voice suddenly chimed into his earpiece. With a sigh Geoffrey opened his eyes, looking up to see Boltram hunched over, hands on his knees, the man's beady eyes staring right through to him. Clearly his focus had been on his opponent the entire time waiting. Standing, the two approached the center, their markers white line painted into astroturf, ten feet apart from one another.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the speakers boomed aloud, causing the audience to explode into a greater fervor, "Kicking off our seventeenth annual Intergalactic Warrior's Brawl, it's the young smiling rookie, the metal-armed street fighter with gumption, please give a loud shout for Geoffrey Burns!" Geoffrey gave his signature smile as he raised his metal arm into the air, but while there were cheers amidst the crowd, there were far more boos and insults being hurled his way. Not that it was actual dislike. Armand had informed him that people would like and dislike him based on his opponent more than anything else, and while Boltram was hardly liked, he was an easy bet.

Which is precisely why Geoffrey had studied the man carefully.

"And his opponent, the Tyrant of Thunder, Electric Bolt of Brawn, the Lightning Lug extraordinaire, Boltram the Mad Lightning Fist!" The crowd errupted at the name of the man, but Boltram did nothing to acknowledge it. His eyes continued to smolder as they stared directly at Geoff, his fingers curling, small blue sparks of electricity tracing through his gloves. Geoffrey turned to face the larger man as a floating bot hovered towards them, a voice listing out all the typical rules of the sport. Of course, they were very brief, and many were regularly broken. Lifting his hands up and separating his feet, Geoffrey prepared for his first move while Boltram continued to stand and stare.

"FIGHT!" the speaker called out, and a bell rang. Immediately Boltram smashed his fists together, blue lightning traveling along his arms. Geoffrey had already begun sprinting, and by time Boltram threw the first punch he had leaped into the air, his flesh hand pressing right onto Boltram's face as he flipped overhead, his metal arm singing and crashing down into the panel upon the back of his suit. A burst of lightning flew from Boltram's glove at the impact, striking the astroturf with a scorch mark. Immediately the large man swung backwards, but Geoffrey was already performing backflips away. After creating some distance, Geoffrey then sprinted forward, starting to close it. Snarling, Boltram swung again, only for Geoffrey to pivot his hips to the side, sliding along the ground and under the swing. Rolling to his feet Geoffrey jabbed and punched into the corner of the panel, denting it, the electric bolts sputtering impotently a moment.

"You maggot!" Boltram roared, swinging behind him again. Once more Geoffrey was flipping back, but he did not run forward this time. He simply hopped on the balls of his feet, hands up in the air, ready to block or punch. "Quit slipping and sliding and fight!" He began to charge ahead, and for a moment he thought Geoffrey had become frightened, standing still. However, the younger man instead dove forward, rolling along his side. Boltram tried to readjust his charge to step on him, but his momentum kept him rolling forward, stumbling until Geoffrey pushed off the ground and into his shin, ensuring the large man tripped and fell forward. Immediately the younger man was back on his feet, straddling the small of Boltram's back and slamming his metallic fist into that panel.

"What is your aim?!" Boltram screamed, roaring and pushing up off the ground. Geoffrey was already up on his feet, though, and backing away.

"You've fought plenty of nimble guys before," Geoffrey said with a smile, the large gorilla of a man turning and grimacing. "However, you've never fought any with the strength that my metal arm possesses." He held his arm out before himself, curling his fingers repeatedly, the metal joints clicking and gears whirring as he did so.

"Then use it on my face!" Boltram roared, stomping one foot forward. However, he paused, seeing Geoffrey immediately close in and prepare. With a snarl, the two stood, facing one another.

~*~*~*~

"Why are they just standing there?" Leanna asked. She had never seen a live fight like this before, and though her heart had been pumping quite vigorously, she was uncertain as to whether it was due to the primal adrenaline of watching two men try to harm one another, or the intense, confused feelings she had seeing Boltram. She felt her skin cover in goosebumps from a combination of fear of the man and the memory of his absolute use of her body, but an excitement and thrill of the memory as well. She blinked and shuddered, trying to focus instead on the young man that seemed to have Vicki's attention.

"Boltram knows that Geoffrey is just waiting to counter any of his attacks," Vicki said with her signature smile. "If he attacks, then Geoffrey will clearly be ready to dodge and strike back. However, because Geoffrey knows he doesn't have a chance if he goes on the offensive, he refuses to act before Boltram." On the screen, Boltram relaxed his posture, standing upright, the gears in his mind silently spinning.

"So, what now?" Leanna questioned.

"One of them has to act," Vicki replied, "or else they'll start a count down timer. If it reaches zero, both will be disqualified from the tournament."

"So they'd both-" Leanna began, but stopped as her eyes were drawn to Geoffrey, the man turning around and walking away from his opponent. Immediately, Boltram's eyebrows lifted up. The gentlemen in the room began to boo and jeer. "Is he quitting the fight?"

"Interesting," Vicki said with a smirk, her eyes narrowing. "He really is a clever one, isn't he?"

~*~*~*~

"Competitor Geoffrey Burns," a floating drone spoke, hovering beside the man as he walked towards the edge of the field, "if you leave the field then you will have forfeited the fight. Is this your decision?"

"Burns!" Boltram cried, his heavy boots thumping into the astroturf. "Don't you dare! I will never accept a coward's victory!" Geoffrey did nothing to turn around, his footsteps getting closer and closer to the edge of the field. With a roar Boltram charged again, his arm reaching out for Geoffrey. However, the smaller fighter once more spun, turning to the side, and with his momentum carrying him Boltrum fell forward to the edge of the turf. "Shit!" he cried, large hands catching him on the ground, barely keeping him in bounds.

Geoffrey's metal fingers grasped the broken, bent panel and pulled, tearing it off of the back of Boltram's suit and revealing a bright, electric battery, tubes glowing bright blue with electricity pulsing out of it like the arteries from a heart. Geoffrey smirked, reaching forward to grasp onto one of the tubes, but the sudden movement of Boltram, swinging back, forced him to lift that arm with a gasp. The impact was like getting struck by a car, knocking him off of his feet and rolling across the turf. Immediately he pressed his hands to push up off the ground and stand, only to stumble, dropping back to his knees. Sparks burst from his metal limb, the frame dented and exposing some of the internal machinery.

"Shit," he cursed before bringing his gaze up, the stomping feet of Boltram charging right for him. Unable to get to his feet in time he instead rolled to the right, dodging the monstrous downward strike, putting a dent into the astroturf itself. He sprung to his feet, dashing forward, creating some distance between him and the hulking bull of a man.

"Looks like you've lost your advantage," the large man grinned, thick, yellowed teeth flashing in a menacing hunger. "Without that arm you're just another man!" Geoffrey crouched, like a cat preparing to spring into action, watching as Boltram crashed his knuckles together, sending sparks of electric power throughout his arms and striking at the environment around him.