"How much is a room in here?"
The host tapped on the glass box on the table, and a holographic document appeared out of nothing. It listed the available rooms and their costs. Akeron focused his energy on his vision as he read it, concealing his left hand in his coat.
The host, clearly a humanoid robot, frowned. "Can you not read?"
"I struggle with screens, I am more of...a...book guy, the previous bot knows this," Akeron lied. "Can I have the cheapest? Your choice."
"Suit yourself, room twelve," the robot handed him a keycard. "And the term bot is a bit outdated, don't you think?"
"I say it as I see it," Akeron winced as he grabbed his bag from the ground. "I need entertainment."
The robot, taking a moment to process the information, said, "Yes," then tapped the glass once more to bring up images of women. "Would you like me to pick one for you, too?"
"Mosi, tell her it's urgent. I'll need her immediately, thank you. I'll be gone now."
"Preferably one with a background in care, I'll need her almost immediately, thank you. I'll be gone now."
The room was dimly lit with neon lights, pleasing to the eyes. There were multiple screens in the room, ones he was familiar with. He pulled a disruptor out of his bag and set it down. A quick scan showed it hijacking the signals from the cameras transmitting from every corner of the room. Akeron could not see them, but this was not his first time in the hotel.
In the corner of the room was a box, where he dumped his belongings. He took off his shirt, and his tincture implants shone red under the neon lights. He attempted to say his mantra, but his pain got the best of him, so he lay on the ground trying to regulate his breathing, and then he passed out.
"You have been poisoned," Mosi said as she pulled Akeron's eyes open. "Where have you been? You never call, or beam."
"I have been busy, you know how my work is."
"A work that you promised to quit."
"It was your request," he grunted as she tended to his wounds. "And I did not promise. I only mentioned that I would consider."
"Consideration counts as a promise on Ulyrn Nezys; you ought to know as much."
"I am not from here. Did you forget?"
"I never do."
Akeron stared at her azure eyes, complimented by her purple hair, reminiscent of the first time they had met on a travel ship that had broken down on the Zyg passing. The affections grew from there, but the expressions were limited. His occupation remained a barrier to what he would call happiness.
Mosi asked. "Who were they?"
"Advanced weaponry would suggest that someone powerful was behind them; other than that, not much I can tell."
"What happened to them?"
"Their ship was destroyed, I didn't see the bodies, so that I wouldn't count on their elimination." he raised his hand, a flash of light appeared on his fingertip, and a small hexagonal container appeared on his hand. "I was able to acquire the element, though."
The third element out of twelve, scattered across the galaxy in an effort to conceal the secrets of the tincture. The Pewan had ordered non-disclosure amongst the Orods, but he could trust Mosi. He hoped.
He said. "Everyone wants them, but nobody truly understands how they work, except for us and the other."
Mosi finished patching him up. "There, done."
"Thank you," he said. The glow from his hand dissipated, and so did the element. Gone. "Stay."
"You need your rest," Mosi walked to the door. "And I have something to attend to."
Akeron shut his eyes, and the vision began to kick in. Planets collide with planets, as stars engulf one another. The chaos went on and on until he drifted off into space, feeling the effects of the drugs as his pain subsided.
Water dripped onto his face, causing him to jolt into consciousness. In his face was a man; the foul stench of his rotten teeth was enough to send him back. Febun, the slave of Lord So'lan who had been granted his freedom long ago but would not leave.
"Ugly Orod, you disgust me," Febun spat on him. "My lord had deployed guards the moment your ship touched the ground on Ulyrn Nezys."
Akeron struggled, but a chain had bound him. "The dog never changed its owner, I see."
"Fool, your problem lies in your trust of the locals," Febun cackled. "You need to understand how it works over here."
Such loyalty could not be bought, but earned. Mosi, undoubtedly, had told them of his whereabouts in an effort to gain favor and money from the Lord. He coughed, the pain was gone, and he was back at full strength.
"Where is your lord?"
"You'll see."
Febun dragged him up to his feet, and a door opened, allowing light to pour into the room. He pushed him into the light, and planting his face onto the warm sand on the ground with dried blood on it. Not here.
The arena, a place designed by the Lord for battles to entertain the people. There had been trouble due to a shortage of fighters because competitors kept dying after every fight. He had declined almost every invitation, and once he had destroyed a lot of property to avoid participating.
The crowd yelled and screamed as they tossed their trash into the arena. Feedback hurt his ears; the lord's annoying voice hurt even more.
"Akeron of the Orod, you should learn that there is no escaping the great So'lan. And you should be thankful, as I have had more executed for less."
The crowd yelled even more. The children of So'lan sat next to him, rolling their eyes with every word that came out of his mouth.
"I do not want this fight, my lord; this is wholly unnecessary."
Boo. A bottle flew right across his face, and the audience laughed at his demeanor.
So'lan continued. "You do not decide what is necessary or not. But in that case, your beloved is with me. Failure to participate, I will end her life. Sounds fair? You think?"
Deranged psychopath. Thousands of livable planets in the galaxy, and I chose this one. Akeron looked into the distance as the gate opened, and there it was, the haga. A monstrous beast with claws the size of a sword, teeth sharp enough to cut through bones, and a roar that sent the crowd into quiet submission.
"The chain is your weapon. Nothing sharp, please, these people paid good money to access the arena, give them their time's worth," said So'lan. "You can start at your own pace."
Orod training, years of studying and practicing to adjust in a split second. The beast stood there, growling and baring its teeth. The enemy holds no power against tincture. Tincture is life itself. He locked eyes with the beast, his hands still chained together to his back. Easy there. The beast leapt, and he summoned every strength to break his chain, grabbing it and leaping toward the beast. The haga aimed its claws at his chest; he dodged and imbued the chain with tincture, hitting the beast on the head. They both landed, the beast writhed but recovered quickly.
A swift slash, the imbued chain broke from the sheer force of the beast's strike. The noise from the crowd did nothing to help his concentration, but he tried hard, dragging the rest of the chain and leaping once more. He landed on top of the beast and struck. The chains were too weak against the tincture's influence, shattering until there was none left, and the beast remained relatively unharmed.
So'lan taunted. "What will you do now?"
A blade, he formed in his mind. He made his hand into the shape, pointing the tips of his fingers through the head of the beast. It moved desperately to get him off, but it failed. The tincture rose from within Akeron, concentrated in his hand and blasted through, into the head of the beast, down into the sand, digging further into the ground. The beast cried in pain and fell onto the ground.
Akeron coughed; his wound had opened up. The strain of using tincture without full health would be felt for days to come. The crowd cheered, stronger than they ever had. He looked up, and there, sitting with a grin on his face, was So'lan. Then he fell to the ground.