Holding his head in his hands as he waited in the staging pen, the metal bench as hard as fate, Lore could barely hear the announcer over the screaming fans. Without his translation device, not a privilege afforded to prisoners, he wouldn't be able to understand anyway. Three quarters of them were Glodarians, the native species, as thick around the chest as two of him. He had thought their primitive traditions so amusing until accidently insulting a Highlady Glorite, an important public official directedly connected to the barbaric ritual that passed for a justice system on this backward out-system planet.
Inside the pen, a bell sounded, which meant two new names would be up on the call board. Lore almost sobbed, refusing to look. He heard two stand up, across the room from each other, and move toward the gate. Lore sighed in relief, but what did it matter if he was beaten to death now or a little later? He watched the door to the auditorium close behind two Glodarians, resulting in a cheer from the thousands of voices. He wondered if his wife was watching; they'd had tickets. She'd been as excited as he about the show, the 'fascinating cultural traditions' the planet was known for. She might have even been the one who brought Gloria up as a leave destination.
The prisoner across from him was staring, menacingly. Lore swallowed slowly, trying to keep from tensing up and failing miserably.
"Worry not, little one," said the hulking beast beside him. "They rarely put outworlders in matches that will kill them."
Lore dared a glance. He looked just like all the others. Huge. ugly. Intimidating. But his voice, though gravelly, was soft as he spoke surprisingly good Prushtoc.
"I'm Glad."
Lore took a longer look. This large, imposing man looked just like all the rest. "Glad about what?"
The Glodarian laughed, a disgusting sound full of Gs and Ls. "My name. In your language, means to be happy. I am that, little friend."
Lore was aghast. "You like fighting in this?"
"Only two more to go," Glad told him, winking. "I am in for a pretty minor crime, so they put me up against the likes of you. I am professor at the university."
"There's a university here?" Lore asked dubiously.
The Glodarian brute laughed earnestly. It sounded like he was going to throw up. "Yes, little man. Lore. Is that how it's said?" He brushed the name patch on Lore's prison uniform when he looked up in surprise. "I always wonder why you cover so much of yourselves up all the time. I would like to tell my class about it."
Lore straighten himself up. "It's just proper on Rushto. Rushto is more..."
"What?" Glad asked with a smirk after some seconds. "Civilized?"
The obvious answer was 'yes', but Lore swallowed it carefully. "What are you in for?"
"Ah, that is a long story," he sighed. "What about you?"
Lore looked up nervously this time when the buzzer sounded, and he realized with relief he couldn't read it.
Glad stood up sighing, patting his head with astonishing gentleness, at least for his rock-like hands. "Tell me later, maybe." He left side-by-side with a nervous Hussian roughly half his size, murmuring encouragingly.
Looking around at the remaining pool, Lore's heart beat faster still. "I... err... I don't suppose any of you fellows feel the same way?"
The creature across from him grumbled something in the Glodarian language, menacingly. He guessed. They only had one tone for use while threatening death or ordering breakfast. Lore looked away as though wondering why the next buzzer had sounded with only a fraction of the usual cheering and little more than polite applause.
The tension in his muscles began to ache as the matches went on. His stomach was in knots. Losing control of his breathing already when two Glodarians left him alone with the crazy-eyed figure before him. Quite certain he was going to die, Lore couldn't help using what might be his last minutes picturing all the ways the beast was going to tear him limb from limb.
That last match sounded like it must have been a good one, and it seemed to be taking a long time. What would happen if he passed out in this cell, would they still rip him apart just for the show? It's not like it could be much easier for the beast that stared him down, broad shoulders heaving with his grunting breath.
Lore decided reluctantly that he would face this with the dignity and control of a Rushtoc. His legs wobbly, he forced them to carry him through the gate and into the Colosseum. He fell back in surprise when he saw that several figures already stood there in the auditorium's glaring light, and was pushed up and forward by the creature behind him, dropping him to his knees before the blurry figure. The Glodorian said something, sounding, if possible, more angry than usual.
The Highlady herself, Mistress Khegal leaned down to him, placing something in his hand, his translator. He squinted up at her as his eyes adjusted, unsure why he was still more terrified as he made out her full-lipped smirk.
Though large and thick as any of her savage race, Khegal had a sort of beauty to her, a raw allure. Almost aggressively attractive. Every distinctly female attribute was exaggerated in her body, and accentuated further by the garments that could hardly be called clothing back on Rushto. He turned his face away from her impressive cleavage as he placed the device in his ear.
Mistress Khegal stood tall and proud. He could have seen her separation if he had been brave enough to look away from the ground between her feet, but less than that had landed him in this situation in the first place. She took two steps back and her feet were joined by a pair much smaller, in scuffed Prushtoc boots mostly covered by the long, loose-fitting slacks common to his planet. He glanced up carefully and his wife looked back at him wide-eyed.
"Callie," Lore gasped.
"Callie," Mistress Khegal repeated, setting a large hand on the shoulder of Callie's favorite dark blue blazer. "Has been pleading for your reprieve."
Callie looked away, reddening.
Lore swallowed slowly. "Did it work?"
Khegal laughed, and the processed result in his left ear was almost musical. Her lips were so full, like no lips on Rushto. "You are to be given the opportunity," she said. "Your wife has made a most compelling offer."
Callie said nothing, still looking down, almost glowing red.
"She explained your ignorance quite thoroughly," Khegal said with a chuckle.
"That's...!" Callie squeaked, and then shook her head meekly. "That's not exactly what I said."