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"Hey, Vextraz," I heard a voice call out to me from behind, as I exited the communal shower.

I looked over my shoulder, and then down at the source. A five foot tall, brown mound of hair, with arms. Marik, my unit's only Dolon and resident gambler.

I growled. I tell people over and over that "Vextraz" is my father's name, a patronymic, not my surname. I'm just "Jase", the rest of my name is a list of male ancestors, that's a couple of thousand years long.

"What's up?" I asked a little annoyed.

"Just wanting to make sure that you were going to be at the fight tonight," he replied, holding his palms up in a placating gesture.

Training had been a real bitch. Director Durandal had decided to play drill Sergeant today. As usual it had been an exercise in practical Darwinism. After all that, being approached by the pint-sized bookie was not on the top of my list of shit to deal with. So when my tail lashed out like a whip to grab him, and bring the little shit to eye level, I couldn't really be blamed. He squeaked loudly, and everyone else in the locker room pointedly ignored our exchange.

"Yes," I replied, making sure that my teeth were on full display, and giving him a squeeze before dropping him.

He made a very hasty retreat after that. I dressed and headed back to my apartment sleep away the six or so hours till my match.

...

Underground fighting, not exactly something I was proud of. It's not like I needed the extra credits, but it's fun. As much as they both hate to admit it, Humans and Draconians are warrior races, and I'm both. What can I say, it's in my blood. Humans are a bit more accepting of random acts of violence, but I'd been raised mostly on Draconian worlds. That meant a lot of 'thou shalt nots' related to violence and aggression, where drilled into my brain. That, and a psychic compulsion to limit my strength around most races. Draconians should really face the facts, the ancients created us for bashing skulls and catching blaster fire. And we're damn good at it.

I arrived at the warehouse that was being used for the event about half an hour before the first of the crowd was to show. I checked in, said hello to a few people I recognized from other nights at things like this, and made my way to the make-shift locker room. I changed into a pair of red trunks, taped up my hands and ankles, and sat down to wait to be called for my match. My fight was last, so I had time to admire the view as other fighters drifted in and out of the room to change. As I sat there letting my eyes wander over strong, athletic, bodies from various species, and let my mind drift. Then a thought occurred to me, one that made me chuckle. Here I am on Seren, third planet of the Stardust system, arguably one of the most advanced worlds in know space, and I was about to go try and beat another sentient into a bloody mess. With an audience the likely included politicians, city officials, and probably a few Seren University professors, no less. Heh....civilization at its finest.

After two hours or so, Marik edged his way into the room. He pointedly stayed next the door. I could taste fear in the air. It made my stomach churn.

"Uh...you're up," he was about to scamper off but I stopped him.

"Wait!"

He paused.

"Listen about earlier, I was just pissed ok. I....You didn't get hurt when I grabbed you, right?"

The ultrasonic clicks that actually made up his speech, which my translator chip interpreted as universal common, went up in pitch as he said "No man, I'm good. Don't worry about it, I did kinda choose a bad time." The pitch at the end spiked up almost out of my hearing range as he chuckled.

"So we're good?" I asked as I walked over and offered my hand, fingers curled in a fist.

He bumped his fist against mine, "Yeah, we're good."

I thought things between the two of us were settled. That was until I walked into sight of the ring and barely managed to stifle the urge to extend my claws and make mice meat out of him.

"The fucking hell is that?" I snarled at him, over the noise of the crowd.

"Your... opponent?"

I bared my teeth and growled

"Also known as my cousin Marog,"he amended.

The cousin in question looked very much like Marik....If you could ignore the fact that he was half again the little guy's height, his thickly muscled frame, the bone blades extending from his forearms, or the pair of very pointy horns growing out of the top of him.

"I don't see the family resemblance," I said flatly.

"Well...Lets just say I'm a runt and he's, uh...special. I was going to tell you about it earlier but..."

I huffed. "Lets just get this started."

...

The announcers did their usual bit, a force field rose around the ring, and the bell rang. Marog offered me a challenge with an almost subsonic bellow.

"Fuck it, why not?" I thought to myself, and I let loose a roar that probably deafened half the crowd.

The audience went nuts, and we charged at each other, my claws extended and his blades at the ready. He swiped at me, but I was faster, if only just. A trickle of deep red blood seeped around a patch of cracked scales on my shoulder. I spun, flinging out my tail and using it to rip him from his feet. I tried to set him up for a curb stomp but he rolled away at the last moment.

Back and forth the fight went, keeping the spectators on the edge of their seats. We bloodied each other, but neither of us made any head way. I can't say that I was used to anyone outside of another Draconian being able to go to toe to with me, and I was loving the hell out of it. My blood was on fire.

At almost the same moment we both landed an lucky blow. He laid open my throat with a backward swing of his arm. A fraction of a second later, the claws on my left food had found purchase in his torso and tore into one of his auxiliary cardiac organs. We sprang apart. A pair of heart beats later, all I knew was darkness.

...

I came to with a medic leaning over me with a nano-machine injector in one hand, and a dermal regenerator in the other. I heal fast, but there is no beating a little modern medicine. So I let him work, and a few minutes later he was finished and I gingerly stood up. Marog was awake but still laying down with a medic of his own bent over him. I learned from Marik that the match had been a tie, we'd both gone down so close together that they couldn't call it. Apparently he had been one of only 2 people to bet on a tie, so he'd make out like a bandit. About an hour had passed since the decision, and most of the crowd and crew had left, except for a few stragglers.

I closed my eyes for a moment to clear some of the fog out of my head. When I opened them again I looked for the fleet-footed fur ball, and he was no where in sight.

"Jase Vextraz," a familiar female voice said in a flat, but firm tone from behind me.

I swallowed, turned, and looked down. A human woman with black hair, and hazel eyes looked up at me. Despite having her by over a foot in height, it felt as if she was the one towering over me.

"Director Durandal, Ma'am, " I said sharply and brought my fist to my chest in salute. Apparently I'd torn something in my shoulder at some point, because I immediately regretted the gesture.

Her face was blank as she manipulated her com and it projected two documents, which she handed to me. I reached out for them, and my wrist com chirped in confirmation. The first document was a contract termination notice. It cited conduct unbecoming of a Durandal Defence Logistics employee, as the cause. That stung, more than a little. I liked being a solider, and D.D.L. payed a hell of a lot better than the republic army. The second, made me look at the woman in consternation. She smirked. For the record, until that very moment, I would have bet a month's pay that the woman was incapable of facial expressions.

"I suggest you accept," she said, then she turned and with smooth precise steps glided away.

I looked at the second document again, just to be sure I wasn't seeing things. It was a contract offering me a place on a G.A. team. The "Stardust Shadows", sponsored by D.D.L. and listing a signing bonus that was enough to make my jaw drop.

"Holy fuck!"

The spectators to the exchange looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Not that I gave a damn at that moment.

"Hey, Marik's cousin," I called over to the big Dolon.

"Yeah?" He rumbled.

"I just got some bad news and some fucking awsome news, and I feel like celebrating. You up for some food and a rematch, at my place?"

He shifted his torso, side to side as he eyed me, then he shrugged.

"Don't blame me if you get hurt," he said, and followed it up with a high pitched click as he grinned.

I snorted and walked over to help him up. "Big talk, I hope you can back it up."