Out of jump space, Mildral's black craft appears in the Evorun System. There are four planets in the system with the largest being Evorun Prime by twenty times as big. On the bridge, Mildral and Traur both look upon the planet. Versal craft of different sizes flies around while there are a dozen cruisers similar to Veron's patrolling. There is only one area where they focus out of any.
"It is strange not seeing any Federation in this area," Traur comments as he looks around. "With such high activity from the Order of Veron nearby, you figured they would want more protection," he adds and Mildral is silent. "Certain stipulations for them to join the Federation Government just like our kind did." Mildral still says nothing and Traur finds it odd. "Are you alright?" He asks him but Mildral doesn't say anything. Traur taps him on the shoulder with his fist and Mildral's helmet turns to his friend. "When was the last time you had taken the suit off and had the fluid drained?"
"I can't remember," he says in response like it is nothing and Traur look to him with concern and frustration. "When the meeting is over I will take care of it."
"You better. I don't feel like dragging you back to the shuttle for an emergency operation on you like the first time."
The two proceed down to the docks and take a shuttle down to the planet. Six versal fighters fly in a pyramid formation before breaking off to escort them in. When coming down to the planet and through the clouds, they have a better view of the large planet. Dozens of villages and small towns are scattered around a certain area. All of them are around one thing that stands out the most. It is a large arena meant for a hundred thousand at most.
The two set down on a landing pad just between the arena and the town. The two are outsiders as versal folk all look to the two. They find only one who is willing to greet them. With her, she has three daughters. Sentrapha, a former women's champion, and wife of Trelphas making her the Queen of the versal.
The three little girls are barely up to the waist yet have far more energy than they know what to do with. Their attention focus solely on Mildral and the suit of armor he wears. The youngest tugs on his gauntlet while the other two press several buttons. He stands there and does nothing while looking down at them.
"How can you go to the bathroom in that thing if you wear it all the time?" The oldest one asks and Traur covers his mouth trying to keep a calm demeanor.
"Doesn't it get hot in there?"
"Are you richer than my mother and father?"
"Sorry for the trouble. They were very excited to meet the head of Rainer Industries. My daughters find your machines interesting."
"They are cool, mother. I want one."
"Yeah, buy us one, mom."
"Perhaps you can discuss it with my husband on designing a few toy ones for them," she says and Mildral says nothing but leaves Traur to talk.
"Forgive my friend, he has been slightly overworked lately. I am sure he would be delighted to create something fun for your daughters and the children here, your majesty." He looks around and watches as the people file into the arena hearing the roar of the crowd. "Sounds like it is quite the spectacle in there."
"That is only the first match of the day," she says before motioning them to follow. "Every year the people honor our kin who have fallen so that we who survived can live. It is truly a blessing."
"And your husband and three companions are fighting as well today?" Traur questions as they follow.
"All four fought on the front lines and wish to honor those that survived."
"They couldn't find you an opponent, Queen Sentrapha?"
"I am sure they could, but there are far better versal deserving of the honor this day."
She leads them up to an area where the King and Queen sit to watch the events. When she comes into view the crowd erupts, applauding her. With the cheering of her name, it is clear how much they love her. Her three little girls get the same amount of love. Traur marvels at the amount of passion their kind show. When things settle down Traur is not hesitant to converse with her on the matter.
"Even after thirteen years, your majesty, your people show that their spirit can't be broken."
"It is like you premderian's. The spirit of our kind is far greater despite the Grand Overseer finding it but entertainment."
"Yet she did offer both of our kinds a better chance at living a better life," Traur adds.
"It is a shame others are not all of your kin could agree to the idea of your people becoming a part of the Government."
"Old habits die hard. They prefer a life of freedom and have their own beliefs. Like Veron...like Kalsor Rideran."
Fireworks go off over the arena is filled with the versal people screaming as the main card matches begin. The first versal stands impressive at six foot eight at about three hundred pounds. He has a messy appearance but gets a good reaction from the crowd. Even Sentrapha's daughters stand in amazement at how big he is.
The one that comes out next draws a bigger reaction from the crowd. At six feet six inches tall and three hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle, he is a specimen. His ears have several piercings along with a nose ring. The hair is shaved but has a shaggy black beard. All over his body, he has tattoos. Mildral turns to Traur who knows all of them well since he is a fan of their fighting.
"Davirox considered the muscle of the team. Doesn't do a lot of one on one fighting anymore. He has been more in the entertainment business as of late. Not the greatest movies but not the worst either. Surprisingly his comedy stuff is his best work."
Davirox takes several clean shots in the beginning. His bigger opponent did not let up and continue to throw clubbing punches. One opens up a small cut that makes him backpedal. The large opponent lets out a roar to please the crowd. Davirox feels the cut and as soon as his opponent turns around and comes at him, he charges. He locks his arms around the larger opponent's legs and slams him down. With a series of headbutts that knock his opponent out. Davirox stands tall over his opponent letting out a loud yell that sees the crowd go crazy.
While his opponent is helped to the back he spends time pleasing the ground by shaking their hands but also greeting the children. As he does, the youngest of the team comes out. The one they call Ranor, the same height as his muscular friend but leaner in the physique. The ladies love him for someone in his mid-twenties. Showing off his body make the Versal women gush over him.
"Ranor, a third-generation versal warrior. Considered gifted in every way, and to women according to him. Held several titles including the Versal Fighting championship at twenty and the Federation Grand championship just a year ago. However, he is arrogant and other things." Sentrapha did not hesitate to say what Traur is thinking.
"He is a nuisance with all the trouble he causes, but his talents can't be denied."
Ranor's opponent is a grizzled veteran who did not waste time when the gong sounds. The girls scream out in hatred for the one trying to hurt Ranor. Everything change with lightning speed from the young versal. He ducks back dodging a single punch showing his cocky smile. With a looping uppercut, he strikes his veteran opponent on the jaw and stuns him. With a flurry of fast hands, Ranor's opponent falls to the ground.
He has no cares for his unconscious opponent. His only attention is on the screaming ladies in the audience. He strikes multiple poses while flexing and then blows multiple kisses. Several hop the barricade and swarm him. For Ranor, he is more than accepting of all the ladies wanting to feel his flesh. He waves the security away and escorts them to the back.
"A true waste of talent like Kalsor Rideran predicted when he started," Traur comments with Sentrapha easily defending him.
"That you are not wrong but he is someone that has his uses on the battlefield."
Traur finds great interest in watching the next match. A young prospect that same age as Ranor comes down the ring. He is cocky and has an arrogance about him. At the same time shows he is more than ready for his match. The crowd admires his passion but his opponent deserves far more.
Coming down to the ring next is someone who enters with drums and the sounds of horns. The crowd gives him the ovation he deserved. At sixty years of age and competing for forty-seven of them, he is deserving of respect. Just as many he has spent as a soldier of the versal. He is barely over six feet tall and has long white hair. His physique shows that he is still in good shape for someone his age.
"Rifrenir, a highly decorated commander of the Versal armies. Has as many decorations as the former Commander known as Thrame, and even more championships. Kalsor's legacy is a mere speck of dust in comparison to the career this guy has had."
They watch as the young fighter wastes no time in attacking. Rifrenir takes serious punishment and stumbles back several times. He manages to get some shots in but the younger fighter continues his onslaught. Punches to the body and kicks to the leg do not look like they are doing much to his younger fresher opponent but Rifrenir continues to do them in a predictable pattern. His young opponent keeps smiling and attacks with punches, going for a knockout.
As the crowd shows excitement, Rifrenir keeps focusing on punishing the right leg that it slows down the younger fighter. On one punch the bigger fighter misses and Rifrenir move out of the corner catching his breath. He starts unloading with punches and kicks, but the right leg is visibly hurt. The larger opponent limps around showing more fatigue.
With a sloppy punch, Rifrenir dives forward and grabs the left leg, and takes his opponent down. He moves fast and locks in a smooth leg lock. Instantly his opponent taps out and the match comes to a close. Rifrenir slowly gets up showing fatigue but still smiles. He shakes his opponent's hand while they lay on their back and goes to the back.
"Still hasn't missed a step."
The next match gets a little more spectacle. The challenger is big in size like the one Davirox fought and get a great reaction. Nothing in comparison to their King. A heavy metal guitar starts playing by an old versal. The song he sings is called Behold the King. As soon as the crowd hears it they stand yelling and screaming in positivity. The three daughters rush to lean over the ledge and watch as their father comes out.
He comes out dressed in a heavy fur pelt wearing a silver crown that is also a helmet and has a skull mask. He wears a large fur coat made of deadly creatures with shoulder guards that have spikes. Around his waist, he wears the title of Federation Grand Champion and Versal Champion. The mighty Trelphas has made his entrance. In his hands, he carries a weapon that has an ax on one side and a large hammer on the other.
Traur does not bother explaining who he is because Mildral knows him well enough. That and Traur is stunned to be standing to watch such a spectacle of a fighter he has admired since he was a child. He watches as he drives his weapon into the dirt and removes his helmet then his fur coat. Stepping into the ring, the crowd erupts for him. As the official explains the rules for the championship match, Trelphas glanced over to his wife and daughters, acknowledging them with a slight nod but see Mildral and Traur as well.
When the official is done explaining the rules, the two fighters shake hands. When the gong sounds the two start exchanging punches much to the delight of the crowd. After a moment, the two get a distance apart from one another. Their King would not bore his people, and neither would his opponent. The two close the distance on one another but it is Trelphas who goes on the offensive. Trelphas show he is fast and pushes his opponent to the ropes. The young opponent finds the versal King crisp in his attacks. Every punch is precise and doesn't risk leaving himself open to attack.
Mildral and Traur continue watching Trelphas throw hard punches and knees. The opponent tries weathering the onslaught but he finds the devastating force too much for him to handle. His arms feel the effects of them and begin to slowly fall.
For several minutes Trelphas continues to throw heavy shots. It is his opponent who backs off and starts coughing. He covers his mouth and finds a small amount of blood on the top of his hand. Trelphas continues advancing and attacks until a series of uppercuts make his opponent fold and the official steps in. Trelphas take several heavy breaths but still stands tall. He lets out a loud yell while raising his arms in victory while physicians tend to his opponent. He points to his family and kisses his fist and extends it towards them.
"Shall we?" Sentrapha asks and the two guests follow them down where fighters come out.
They wait for a little while. It is not until Senteapha's daughters see their father and rush to him. Trelphas smiles as he lifts them into his arms and carries them. He gives all three of them kisses before kissing his Queen. His other three companions come out behind him. With Davirox he carries a brynrork weapon that has several tribal markings. Rifrenir already starts drinking while Ranor has two girls in each arm. Traur is very formal and tries to be as polite as possible.
"King Trelphas, it is an honor. You are as tough as they say."
"Compliments are not the reason I asked for you to be here," He says and Traur is silent before looking to Mildral. "Did my daughters bombard you with questions upon arrival?"
"Children are easier to handle than the press or politicians, your majesty," Mildral answers honestly in a content tone.
"Must be hard to find a good woman to love such a scarred and deformed premderian like yourself," Ranor says with a little smirk.
"At least I don't have to pay them," Mildral replies and Ranor stops in his tracks from the quick-witted insult. "Spend as much time you do training instead of on woman and other activities that your King keeps hidden, you would be as good as one of my old friends use to talk about."
"What did he just say?"
"He didn't mean any offense to you, Ranor," Traur explains kindly. "He only refers to the words of another who thinks this about you."
"No, I tend to agree with the ones who said it."
Ranor charges at Mildral and grabs him by the throat. He slams the premderian up against the wall. There is no struggle from Mildral as Ranor lifts him with both hands. There is a clicking sound and Ranor looks down to find Mildral aiming a pistol at his crotch.
"Are you willing to pay for just watching a man please a woman?" Ranor finds his muscled friend laughing while the others smile from the situation. Ranor slowly lowers him to the ground and Mildral holsters his pistol. "Predictable."
"We are ready with a brief, your majesty, and are willing to..." Trelphas cuts off Traur before he can get a chance to finish what he is about to say.
"Enjoy the festival," Trelphas tells them before walking away with his companions. "I will send my assistant to come to get you."
"I don't think the Grand Overseer will like this," Traur says as he looks around and finds Mildral walking away. "What are you doing?"
"I am going back to the shuttle. I will find you tomorrow."
Mildral does what he says leaving his friend to try and find his way around the town. When getting inside his ship he closes the ramp behind him. He keeps the lights off but presses several buttons on his wrist gauntlet. From the floor, a desk rises, and a small round desk opens up to reveal several surgical tools. Other pieces of equipment also rise as well as a charging port with several cords. The last thing to come up is a chair.
First, he removes the gauntlets from his hands. The right hand is the flesh that is badly burnt. For the left, it is of machine made of premderium perfectly shaped like a normal hand. He presses a few buttons on his chest piece in a certain sequence. After the lights turn green and the chest piece of his armor falls to the floor. In the darkness, he removes his helmet and places it on the desk. Over the helmet, he has an oxygen device strapped around his head and over the mouth that goes up to the nasal passages.
For a moment he scratches the back of his bald head, feeling the burn marks along with pieces of metal that have small lights flashing on and off. Lastly, he removes his long black shirt and reveals his badly burnt body along with pieces of machine infused into his skin. The metal arm runs up to his elbow. The only light he needs is his premderian eyes.
With one of the cords, he connects to the back of his head. On his mechanical arm, a port opens for him to connect another. Six more cords connect to his body as well. On the front of his body, there are five ports meant for tubes. He connects all five and they slowly begin draining out black fluid from his body. The last tube he connects to the back of his head and begins extracting a green substance. The machines do their work, with the only other sound Mildral hears is his breathing through the oxygen mask.