Gladiator (Women of the United Federation Marines Book 1)

by Jonathan P. Brazee

“Are you sure?” Tamara asked, astounded at the news.

  “Yeppir. Maxi sure,” Grammarcy said, shrugging her shoulders.

  “But it hasn’t even been two years!”

  “I’m so sorry,” Jonna told their friend. “Are they, I mean, can you still fight?”

  “Nope. That’s out of the question now. I guess I go into retirement,” she said in the same dull voice in which she’d told the two roomies that she had the Brick.

  There wasn’t an official gladiator retirement. They just fell out of the pool for fights. Most gladiators in that position eventually moved to Gustavson Village to join the rest of the inactive gladiators. Many initially tried to stay in their homes, but surrounded by other gladiators who still had a mission, few ended up staying for long.

  Tamara was shocked, to say the least. Grammarcy hadn’t even fought yet, and it didn’t seem possible for her to already have the Brick. Tamara had been keeping thoughts of the Brick at bay, refusing to talk about it. If she didn’t let it into her thoughts, it didn’t exist. If—when—it appeared in two or three years, she’d deal with it then. But now, to have her classmate already contracting it, she couldn’t ignore it. She could be next, she realized.

  That’s so messed up, she thought as she reached out to take Grammarcy’s hand in hers. All of the sacrifices, all the work, for nothing.

  “So what are you going to do?” Jonna asked.

  “What can I do?” Grammarcy said with the first hints of bitterness in her voice since she’d knocked on their door. “I can’t turn back the clock.”

  “Do you want to, do you want to stay here for awhile? You know, to talk?” Jonna asked.

  “Talking won’t do anything,” Grammarcy snapped. She took a deep breath and brought the calm Grammarcy back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. Thanks for the offer, but no. I’ve got to get going. I just wanted to tell you to in person before the word gets out. I’ve still want to tell a few others before that happens.”

  She stood up, and both Tamara and Jonna rose as one to envelope their friend in hugs. After a long 20 seconds, Grammarcy broke the hug, thanks them, and left.

  Tamara and Jonna stared after her long after the front door had closed. If they survived the ring, that was their future, and that was a future that scared the crap out of Tamara.

  Chapter 30

  Jonna wheeled around, briefly exposing her back as she ducked, then sprang up, sword tip aimed at the d’relle’s underbelly, right at the juncture of her breastplate. She had telegraphed the move, however, and the d’relle’s sword swung down in a move to pass Jonna’s guard and hit home.

  The Klethos blade hit Jonna’s sylvian high, knocking aside the tip as it plunged down in a coulé—only to get trapped in the sylvian’s quillon. Jonna, using the momentum of the d’relle’s strike, carried both weapons to the sand surface of the ring where she stepped on the tip of the d’relle’s sword. Driving up with her long thighs, she unleashed a tremendous uppercut with her left hand, smashing through an attempt by the d’relle to arm-block it and connecting solidly with her opponent’s beak. The d’relle staggered, and with a smooth motion, Jonna freed her sylvian blade and brought it up, the tip hitting the d’relle low before delving deep into her inner workings. The d’relle stopped all motion, still hung up on Jonna’s sword.

  Jonna looked up with a huge smile on her face and turned expectantly to her swordmaster. Master Kath Win Li nodded her approval as the techs rushed forward to repair the damaged to the simulacrum.

  While most gladiators fought the d’relle simulacrums with virtual blades, the sylvian blades were so new that the trainers wanted this test to be with Jonna’s actual weapon. The techs were probably beside themselves that their baby, one of only four at Chicsis, had been abused so cruelly.

  Tamara didn’t care much about that. She rather destroy a hundred simulacrums than give up even the slightest advantage. She smiled and gave Jonna a thumbs up. She had to have just passed the evaluation, and she’d be cleared to go on the active list. Ten of the class had already entered the ring, but with their new swords, neither she nor Jackie Prescott-Alercia had been cleared yet.

  Another d’relle was ordered forward, techs fretting over it as Jackie stepped forward to take her turn. Jonna whispered something to her, then slapped her on the shoulder before sauntering over to Tamara, hips swinging too much and shoulders rocking, her version of a victory walk.

  “Not bad there, Reindeer Girl, not bad. You might even have a chance against a real d’relle,” Tamara told her.

  “Not bad my lily white ass,” Jonna said, punching Tamara in the upper arm. “That was hot shit great!”

  Tamara merely snorted her response as both friends turned to see if Jackie would be cleared to the active list as well. She had to admit, though, that Jonna actually had been “hot shit great.”

  Chapter 31

  “I don’t see why you have to leave,” Jonna said, sitting on Tamara’s bed.

  “I told you, Jonna, it’s nothing against you. It’s just that some of the braided girls are taking over part of San Simione, and I need to make sure I get a home.”

  “But can’t you wait? I mean, I’m on the active list now, and I’ll get my own braid, too. We can go together!” she whined.

  “If I wait, it might be too late. But don’t worry. As soon as you get your braid, you can join me. And if I already have a roomie, you can get someplace close to me. Look, I need to get going. The house drawing is in 20. If the staff leaves anything, just give me a call!”

  With that, Tamara left the room, leaving Jonna to fall back on Tamara’s bed in despair.

  She was still lying there 20 minutes later when the door chimed. Jonna slowly sat up, scratched her forehead, and went to the door. She opened it to another gladiator who marched right into the home.

  “Excuse me?” Jonna said. “And just who are you?”

  “You know me. I’m Queen Forsythe, from the new class. I’m your new roomie,” the gladiator said cheerfully before opening the door to Jonna’s room. “This mine?”

  “No, that’s my room. And who the hell said you were my roomie. I didn’t ask for anyone!”

  “Eh, they assigned me to you. I, well, none of my own classmates wanted me. Hell, I tried three roomies in Module 1 alone. But since your other roomie left you—”

  “She didn’t leave me. We’re going to room together again later,” Jonna protested.

  “Sure, I bet that’s what she told you. But hey, if that happens, then I’ve got the place to myself,” Queen continued, opening up Tamara’s room. “Hey, I like yours better. Do you wanna switch?”

  “I most certainly do not! And you’re not coming in here. I’ll talk to Auntie Ruth about this!”

  “Auntie Ruth was the one who suggested it. She seems to think you’ll be a good influence on me.”

  With that, Queen lifted a leg and let out a tremendous fart.

  “Sorry about that. That’s one of the reasons no one wants to live with me. I was bad before, but now, after genmodding, I can really blast them out.”

  Jonna wrinkled her nose and jumped back.

  “Oh my God, that’s vile!”

  “Sure is. Watch, here goes another,” she said as another blast filled the house.

  “No, no, no! This isn’t happening!” Jonna shouted.

  “Oh, wow, this is classic,” Beth said from where she, Tamara, Elei, and a few others were watching everything on a monitor from next door. “But maybe it’s time to rescue her?”

  “No, let her suffer!” Elei said gleefully.

  “Hey, you don’t get a say in this. You were in with her with the buckets over the doors, so we should be pranking you, too!” Beth said.

  Tamara was tempted to let it play out longer, but Jonna was her friend, after all.

  “OK, let’s go get her.”

  Six gladiators, all laughing, ran out of the house, jumped the fence, and burst into Tamara and Jonna’s house. Jonna looked up in confusion.

 
“Jonna, meet Queen,” Tamara said.

  “I just met her,” Jonna said sourly, obviously wondering what was going on.

  “Queen is a Federation Marine, and being a Marine, she agreed to help me out here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been pranked, sister dear.”

  “But the, I mean, what about her not having any roomies?”

  Queen sheepishly pulled a small rectangle from her pants and waved it in the air.

  “I can’t believe the commissary actually had a Fartmaster Deluxe on the shelves, but it sure helped out here.”

  “I thought I was going to die when I triggered it. That was some foul shit!” Queen said as the others laughed.

  “But that means. . .you. . .”

  “I’m not going to San Simione. Do you really think I can leave my bestie?” Tamara said, putting her arm around Jonna’s shoulders. “I was just getting you back, my dear.”

  “But you already did with taping me in bed. It took me an hour to get out of that.”

  “Jonna, honey, you should know me better than that by now. A Marine does not just get even, no. A Marine always goes one better!”

  Chapter 32

  The mood was somber as Naomi Van Sustern braided Elei. Tamara was still in a state of shock. She’d been at Elei’s fight, and she’d have to review the holos to understand exactly what happened. She’d been overjoyed, of course, when Elei’s d’relle slowly sunk to the ground, Elei’s claymore run through her body. But when Elei sunk to her feet a moment later, she had to contain herself from rushing forward. Beth, as her second, rushed in instead and led an obviously wounded Elei from the ring.

  Tamara only had a few moments with Elei before the medical staff tore her away. The witnesses were escorted to their ride, and on the long flight back to Tarawa, Tamara had chewed her nails to the quick.

  Now, she watched Elei sitting in the chair while Naomi slowly braided a lock of Elei’s striking turquoise, green, and blue hair. It should have been a joyous occasion. Another one of them had gone out to combat and returned the victor. But the empty left sleeve of Elei’s tunic was a stark reminder that something had gone wrong.

  Elei had killed her opponent, and so she was the victor. The d’relle, however, had scored on Elei, and scored big. Without an arm, Elei was finished as an active gladiator. She couldn’t go through another boosted regen. By the time the arm would have grown, the Brick would be ravaging her body.

  Naomi finished the braiding, and the rest of the gladiators stomped their feet and cheered, but without the enthusiasm they normally exhibited. Tamara rushed forward to greet her friend.

  “So what the hell happened?” Jonna asked. “I couldn’t see anything.”

  “I won, that’s what happened,” Elei said, shutting everyone up.

  She looked around, then said, “Sorry. I haven’t had a moment to gather my thoughts since then. I grabbed the d’relle with my left hand,” she said, raising her stump, “And pulled her in to run her through with Gege.”

  Gege was a Samoan god who had rid the islands of demons, according to mythology, and Elei had named her sword after him.

  “Gege did his job, but when the d’relle tried to stop him, she sort of sliced my arm right through the bone.”

  “Holy shit,” Jonna said quietly.

  Those surrounding Elei went silent in counterpoint to the low buzz of the bulk of the gladiators who were already helping themselves to the food or breaking up into groups to socialize.

  “Are you OK?” Tamara asked lamely.

  Elei snorted, then said, “About OK as a one-armed gladiator can be.”

  “But they can reattach the arm, right?” Queen asked. “It was cut cleanly, right?”

  “They could, but I said no. I’m getting a prosthetic. Without regen, it would take two, maybe three years to get back any useful function. I’d rather they just keep the hunk od useless meat and give me some hi-tech wonder like Mesonman’s.”

  That brought out a laugh from the crowd. Mesonman’s “meson arms” could morph into the most interesting forms as he fought evil in the galaxy. The fact that most of the forms had no basis in logic didn’t take away from the franchise’s popularity.

  “How about Meson-X-man’s?” someone asked, bringing even louder laughter.

  Meson-X-Man was an adult-rated parody of the Mesonman flicks, and his arms took on more salacious tasks.

  “I would, but that won’t do any of us any good,” Elei said.

  “So you are off the active list,” Holly Walton, one of the new class of gladiators, said needlessly.

  “Yes, young lady, that I am. But don’t feel bad. I’ll enjoy my time as an inactive, making life miserable for all of you. I’ve got my braid, after all,” she said, dramatically swinging it with a head flick. “I’ll outlive all of you, so you can all start calling me granny!”

  Elei was taking everything well, Tamara thought. Maybe too well. She hoped there wouldn’t be a huge breakdown somewhere.

  Tamara looked up to see Grammarcy at the back of their little group, staring hard at Elei’s braid. Elei had just joined her on the inactive list, the first two from their class, but there was a huge difference between them. Elei had her braid, and Grammarcy did not.

  Grammarcy spun around and quickly strode off for the door. Tamara almost went after her, but as there was nothing she could say, she just let her friend disappear into the night.

  FRIESON

  Chapter 33

  Tamara had been quite surprised to get the call again. Not everyone in her class, even in the top half of her class, had gone into combat yet. Jonna, in particular, had taken it hard. It had been bad enough when two gladiators in the following class had been given fights, but now Tamara was getting her second.

  Tamara knew Jonna was upset, and she understood why. But the choice wasn’t hers to make. The staff, aided by some pretty heavy-duty AIs, made the decisions, based on parameters that were kept from the gladiators themselves. But Jonna was a good friend as well as a good soldier. She swallowed her disappointment to be Tamara’s second. Know how Jonna felt, Tamara had considered asking Beth or Elei to take the position, but she thought that would just make matters worse for her friend.

  “Not quite like Halcon,” Jonna noted as they stepped into the Escalante.

  The upscale hotel chain, only 50 years old or so, competed with Earth hotel chains hundreds of years old, and they continually tried to outdo the more established chains. Tamara had never been in one. There wasn’t one on Orinoco, but there was one on Tarawa. However, as a lance corporal, the rooms had been more than a little out of her reach. Now, she was in the penthouse, a most VIP guest of the planet.

  “Not bad. I could get used to it,” Tamara said, running a hand along the silky-smooth top of a couch.

  A couch in a hotel room. Posh to the max.

  “Well, the gym has been closed to the public if you want to use it. If you’re not up to it right now, I’m going to jump in the bath. Have you seen that tub? It’s big enough for two of us.”

  Two gladiators might be a little tight, but Tamara agreed that the huge tub should fit a single gladiator comfortably.

  “No, you go ahead. I’m just going to chill out here for a bit. We’ll hit the gym later.”

  Frieson was a well-developed independent world that excelled at trade. It had very few resources of its own, but it had managed to almost will itself to become the quadrant’s premier trade hub. As in independent planet, it was not bound by the same rules and regulations as most planets and nations, but still, their rise to success was noteworthy and something other planets often tried to emulate.

  Frieson also had a strong military, and their army was well-regarded. They had even fought side-by-side with the Marines in the war with the Trinoculars. According to her briefing team, the planet was overjoyed that it was a Federation Marine who’d been assigned to defend them.

  Tamara had suggested to Jonna that her status as a Marine might
have had something to do with her selection, but in reality, no one knew if politics ever entered into the assignments.

  Tamara walked around the suite. The furniture was huge, gladiator-sized. There couldn’t have been enough time to make the furniture after the challenge had been issued, so they must have had all of it in storage just waiting until it might be needed.

  No, not like Halcon 4 at all!

  The next 26 hours, though, went by much as the 20 on Halcon had gone. Tamara used the gym, sparred lightly with Jonna, ate (the food, cooked by the hotel chef, was quite a bit better than they’d had on Halcon), and got in two good, deep, eight-hour sleeps. Gladiators slept deeply, but they almost always awoke after exactly eight hours, refreshed and ready to go.

  The combat ring was not in a stadium, to Tamara’s surprise. The Friesonians loved their sports, and they had hosted the Olympics seven years prior, so that would have made sense to her. But the Friesonians had constructed the ring at the landing site of their founder, Major Fedde Bovenlander. Carruthers, her handler this time, told her that only the planet VIPs would be at the fight itself.

  None of that mattered to Tamara. Whether crowds as in New Budapest or small numbers as on Halcon, she didn’t care. She’d tune them all out when in the ring. The only one she cared about was her d’relle opponent.

  Tamara and Jonna spent the last hour before leaving the hotel playing Shields, a new card game that had caught on with the gladiators. Tamara imagined that the citizens of Freison might be surprised at her choice of activity, but it kept her mind clear and on the game, not on the fight. Jonna was up by over 100 spears by the time Carruthers poked his head in the room.

  “We’ll continue after the fight,” Tamara told Jonna. “I’m not going to leave you spanking me so bad.”

  “You got it, Iron Shot.”

  Tamara rolled her eyes. Ever since leaving Malibu, Jonna had reverted to using Tamara’s press nickname, and Tamara knew she wouldn’t let up until they got back. Tamara prayed that when Jonna did get the call, her nickname would be equally as lame, and then she’d use it as often as possible as Jonna’s second.