3. Gragash

3

GRAGASH

T he thrill of victory was lacking. In this business, it always was. Standing over the body of my defeated foe, I saw exactly how much our lives were worth. A pair of Baurans emerged from Toragah's entrance, looking at his body with disgust. One kicked the corpse, then spat on it. His companion chattered away in a language I didn't know, but the contempt dripping from his words didn't need translation.

My opponent's ‘managers' were unhappy with his performance, which was understandable. Their disrespect towards his remains was not. I felt the snarl spread across my face and stepped forward, lightning crackling across my fist, and the Baurans exchanged worried glances.

"Another splendid victory, Gragash." Ty'anii's voice held an edge of warning, and without looking, I knew the smile the Prytheen female was sporting. More a predator's hungry grimace than anything friendly. With a last snarl at the Baurans, I lowered my arm. Crushing their skulls would not be worth the consequences, so I would have to make do with making them flinch.

Captain Vaher sauntered in behind Ty'anii, looking every bit the dashing pirate captain he wasn't. His long coat billowed like a cloak, and his shirt was open to show off the crimson skin of his chest. If I'd ever harbored any illusions about the romance of space pirate life, Vaher and his crew had cured me of it. To be fair to them, they'd cured me of most romantic ideals I'd held. They were thorough, if nothing else.

While the captain spoke to the Baurans in their own tongue, Ty'anii checked me over for injuries. As always, I hadn't noticed all of them during the fight. That sword had been sharp as anything I'd seen, and fighting a skilled swordsman without taking a few cuts was close to impossible. None of the cuts looked dangerous to me, though.

"Aw, nothing a bit of sprayskin won't fix," she confirmed with a pout. She was the closest thing to a medic Vaher had, and she liked her skills to be useful. Something anyone could fix with a spray can wouldn't remind anyone of her importance. For my part, I was glad I wouldn't end up in her infirmary again.

Vaher finished his business with the Baurans, and we left them to deal with the corpse. Ty'anii finished her examination by manacling my wrists to my belt, and the two of them flanked me, brushing away the various fans and journalists clustering around the exit.

I glared at them as we passed, parasites and sadists all. Vaher and Ty'anii, by contrast, were both all smiles, greeting the regulars as we passed. My angry snarls had no impact—anyone frightened off by them wouldn't hang around to get a picture with me.

My main reason for glaring around was the hope I'd see that mysterious red-haired female again. There was no sign of her among the journalists, though, nor could I see her hanging back in the crowds. I snarled at myself—why was I even bothering? It wasn't as though I'd be able to speak with her.

Journalists threw the usual array of questions at me, and got the usual lack of response in return. Fuck them. I wasn't here to help them make money. Ty'anii hung back to talk to them instead, as usual, and fending off the predictable questions with practiced ease. She had the right presence for the kinds of media that covered these events—pretty, petty, and cruel.

"You ever wonder if your monster there can talk?" one asked once we were through the crowd and heading back aboard the Darha's Blessing. He probably thought I could no longer hear him, which told me everything I needed to know about his knowledge of my people. "Most Orcs can, right?"

Ty'anii laughed. "Some can, sure. Big green and stupid here? Doubt it. He'd have told us to go fuck ourselves by now if he could."

With that, she waved and left them behind, rejoined Vaher and me, and closed the hatch behind her. Vaher grinned at her.

"Hey, don't be too hard on Gragash," he said. Arisrans, like Orcs, had good hearing. "He won us a lot of money today. Maybe we should get him a treat before the next bout."

I shuddered to think what Vaher might have in mind. Hopefully, he'd forget about it just as he did most ‘promises' he made to those he considered property.