The thick stench of ozone permeated the room as Corey and Omega continued exchanging blaster fire with the ne’er do wells intent on brokering their deaths. By Corey’s count they (and by “they” he really meant “Jay”) had managed to kill 3 of the ruffians. Corey had caught a better glimpse of their foes as well. They seemed to all be wearing ragtag armor with a motley array of weaponry. Certainly not a cohesive security force.

Jay, I fail to see how my social faux pas could have led to this!

Jay grimaced. I think it’s more than that. A couple of those guys look familiar.

Suddenly, the shooting from the other side stopped. And not a moment too soon. The table they had been taking cover behind was a cartoonish looking outline of Corey and Jay’s bodies, and a change of safety venue was soon to be in the cards.

Why’d they stop?

Shhh… Jay put a finger to his lips, listening keenly. In the near distance, a heavy footfall could be heard. Some of the patrons, who had also been hiding for their lives, start to mumble in recognition and concern.

Jay Omega. Gift wrapped and everything. A booming voice called out.

Jay squeezed his eyes shut in consternation. Shit. Shit shitty shit!

Shit? Corey proffered. I take it this is….he stopped mid sentence to sneak a peek at the newcomer.



…well, SHIT.

Jay readjusted his weight, pressing his back up against the decimated remains of the table. Long time no see, Quadshot.

Let’s skip the pleasantries! The alien barked. I will let the beautiful Earth female you’re traveling with go if you surrender yourself to me.

Earth female? Corey and Jay look at each other, mouthing silently in unison. And then Jay suddenly claps a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh and points at Corey. Corey bristles and calls out from behind the table. Excuse me, I’m not an Earth female. I’m just an exceptionally attractive man.

Jay rolls his eyes out of his skull.

But thank you for noticing.

Look Quadshot, whatever the bounty on my head is I’ll double it.

The Quallons have just posted 15 zillion quiddons on your head.

That doesn’t even sound like a real number!

Uh…um…..

Quadshot crosses all of his arms in a haughty manner. So, do you have those kinds of funds Omega?

Well, you see, I do! But I left them in my wallet on the ship. If I could be allowed to….

We’ll take you in dead. Quadshot gives the signal for his men to start firing again. But before they can reset their phasers to murder, THIS drops down from the ceiling!



A sleek lizard like being drops to the floor on all fours. And if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he bears a very slight resemblance to…

Jay! He’s here!

Yes!

I just can’t take you anywhere, can I? And with that, Omegadon sets in on his vicious work. Pulling a couplet of silvery handles from his sides, they ignite into twin energy scimitars. Omegadon unleashes a feral roar.

Fuck yes this is so cool!

Quadshot backs up a step, surprised by the interloper despite his cool demeanor. Kill him you idiots!

Two of the mercenaries fire off shots on the dino man, but he ducks deftly and slinks to his left, lashing out with his mighty clawed foot to trip up a slower moving mercenary before thrusting his plasma blade through the unfortunate’s chest. Recovering, he deflects two more shots back on their owners, killing one and sending another scrambling to the floor.

Oh, enough of this! Quadshot pulls out four blaster pistols and begins laying down a blanket of hot white cover fire, causing widespread destruction throughout the bar!

We gotta move, Corey! Jay shouts above the din.

But Corey’s attention is elsewhere. He spots a small pinkish alien cowering beneath a table. I have to help that kid. But the expanse between them is a no mans land of blaster fire! Jay, I have to help him…her….it! He points at the small alien across the way.



Jay throws a hand up. Wait, Corey! It’s not….!

But Corey is already away, sprinting through the deadly terrain, dodging two blaster bolts deftly before a third grazes the back of his calf. He cries out in pain as the force of the blow sends him spiraling next to the pink child alien. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he speaks to it. I don’t know if you can understand me, but I’m going to help you! With that, Corey pulls the diminutive creature into his arms, and is quite surprised when it starts struggling against him. No, no, no! Shhhh! I’m helping! HELPING!

Corey! Damn it, listen to me! That’s not a child, it’s a fully grown Warbling and they’re a race of bloodthirsty war criminals! They’re responsible for the genocide of three different species!

WHAT?! Corey looks into the creature’s undeniably adorable eyes as it ceases struggling. A protracted moment passes between them before Corey unceremoniously dumps the alien on its ass. Oh, you’re on your own, jerk! A shot hits perilously close to Corey again. YIPES!

Meanwhile, Omegadon leaps to the wall and then propels himself off of it into a diving roll of death, a whirling ball of deadly claws that slices and dices through another two mercenaries. Then, with a head of momentum, he slides up to within striking range of Quadshot! Meanwhile, Jay takes out another grunt who was closing in on Omegadon’s flank.

Quadshot, squaring off with Omegadon, retrained his upper two blasters on the reptilian humanoid, but before he could pop off a shot Omegadon’s scimitars reignited and flashed out in a scissored striking pattern, taking one of Quadshot’s arms and rendering it an inert pile of dead matter on the floor. Quadshot howled and activated some sort of emergency energy shield, forcing Omegadon to back off.

Retreat! Back to the ship! He called out, hand cupping the stump off of his missing arm. Shooting Omegadon a baleful glare, he backed off and through the entrance with the rest of his remaining minions in tow.

With the battle over, the patrons tentatively began to peek their heads back up from their hiding places. Corey slid out from under the table, wincing the first time he put weight on his wounded leg. Omegadon sidled up to Jay and extended him a clawed appendage.

I believe that’s at leasssssst the 103rd favor you owe me.

Hey, Corey was the one with the janky drink order.

Oh, like that was what really set this off. Corey sat back down in one of the booths with a huff, surveying his leg.

We’ll get that patched up on the ship. Jay offered to Corey. And then, to Omegadon. We should probably beat feet. Is the ship ready to go?

Of coursssse.

Hey Jay?

Yes, Corey?

When we leave can I sit in the captain’s chair and say “Engage”?

….

Omegadon looks at Jay.

No, Corey.

Later…

The water pressure on the ship was surprising good, and the feel of the heat and humidity wrapped Corey’s tired body like a shroud. His leg was starting to feel better after Jay had affixed some sort of med patch to it. He claimed it would advance his healing time by a factor of five. A good thing considering his impending title defense.

As the water thrummed his head, he found himself adrift in his thoughts. In trying to escape his sorrow over Christian leaving, he had found himself in the same strange, dangerous sort of scenario that Christian had so despised. It would seem that the unusual was a dogged adherent, and would continue to be so whether Corey liked it or not. Resting a shoulder against the gun metal gray steel of the shower, he spit out a tiny gout of water and gave his wounded leg a little flex.

And then it all went black.

Corey reacted instinctively, wheeling around with a backfist in response to the sensation of the hands about his eyes. He was able to stop just short of striking Pan.

Hiya! Pan smiled, oblivious to the facial devastation he almost suffered.


Jesus Christ dude! Corey sputtered, acutely aware of his nudity. He nearly tripped in the process of rapidly disembarking from the shower, snatching up a towel and holding it about his waist. Pan was wearing a white shirt and some sort of breeches that seemed to be hemp based in material. How…how…? He panted.

Pan stepped out of the shower, also oblivious to how wet he was as he simply allowed it to pool on the bathroom floor. We’re linked now Corey. Anywhere there is “you” and “water” I can be there too.

I was SHOWERING!

Sorry, I didn’t know. He spoke the words of apology, but with a playful lilt that seemed to imply he was somewhat less than sorry.

Yeah, well…we need to work something out. Privacy and…whatever… He reached into the shower and turned it off as Pan considered the bathroom.

This is a weird bathroom.

We’re on board the…then, realizing the name would mean nothing to him….we’re on Jay Omega’s spaceship.

Pan’s eyes were instantly alight. We are?! Oh my gosh! Can we look around?! Can we see space?!!

Well, yeah, although your presence here will bear some explanation. Corey refastened his grip on the towel about his waist, suddenly feeling somewhat less self conscious. His eyes drifted to Pan’s torso, to the places where the wet shirt hugged his lithe frame…

No. No. We’re not doing that. .

Can I get changed? He pointed to the clothes neatly folded on the nearby table.

Of course! Pan replied quickly, but made no move to avert his gaze. When Corey twirled his finger, indicating that Pan should turn around to give him some privacy, Pan blushed a bit and did as he was asked.

Corey dropped the towel, taking pains to avoid looking anywhere that was Pan as he stood there in his nakedness. His mind flashed back to the last time they met under a shower, when their lips met…when…

No! Stop it! Corey grabbed for his clothes and started to pull them on, realizing halfway through that he probably should have dried himself more thoroughly. But he was desperate to get clothed in front of Pan. The impropriety of it all…

I wanted to thank you again for all your help. Pan said, with an undercurrent of the unsaid that was no doubt his true reason for being here.

Of course. Corey pulled his shirt on over his soggy head. I appreciate that you appreciate my help, but you don’t have to thank me forever. Corey hoped this would prod Pan towards the real topic of conversation burning in Pan’s mind. A topic of conversation Corey had high hopes….NO! He chastised himself inwardly again, rebelling against the salacious notion that he and Pan could be anything but this.

And yet.

So, there was something I wanted to ask you about. Again. Pan paused. Remember when you kissed me?

Corey closed his eyes. As if he could forget. Look, like I said before, it was a mistake. I was already with someone at the time. Was.

Yeah. About that. Corey, can I turn around?

Yes.

Corey was just slipping on a pair of socks as Pan looked at him again. Have you heard anything from Christian?

Corey’s gaze dropped to the floor. No.

Oh. An awkward pause. I’m sorry.

Are you? The internal jibe was meaner than Corey had intended. Pan, I feel like there’s something else on your mind.

Pan stiffened, crossing one arm across his torso to grab his elbow, a self conscious gesture that served to fractionally withdraw him from the moment. Yeah. There is. Look, I….he stopped, looking frustrated, before resolving to spit it out. What if I liked it when our lips touched?

And there it was. Damn it.

Pan…

I’ve been in relationships before, Corey.

Corey was taken aback. For some reason he had always branded Pan an innocent. His personality, childlike and playful as it was, seemed to brand him thus.

It’s not like I don’t know what feelings are. It’s not like I’ve never been in love. A touch of a smirk. “The boy who never grew up” ended up growing up in more ways than one. It kind of just…happens...you know?

I can’t do this right now, Pan. I can’t. He looked at him with an expression approaching desperation, as conflicting motivations threatened to rend him in two. Corey couldn’t deny his attraction to Pan. But he still pined for Christian, hoping, perhaps with futility, that he would hear from him again.

Pan looked away. I’m sorry. I’m being a jerk. An insensitive jerk. Again, there was a sort of juvenile aspect to his self reproach. A paradoxical showing of emotional depth with language steeped in immaturity. I’ll stop, okay?

I’m not sure I want you to. But it feels so wrong. I still want to be your friend, Pan.

You do?

Of course. It’s just that I’m not sure about anything else. Despite himself, Corey’s words left the door wide open.

I can work with that. Pat spat into his hand and extended it towards Corey. Sealed in spit, friendo!

Corey screwed his face up in mild disgust before shaking Pan’s hand. Um, sure.

Just then, the bathroom door slid open! Jay was standing there, blaster pistols leveled at both of them.

AHHHH!

AHHHH!

Corey, I heard two voices! We have an intruder?!

No, no, no! Corey stepped in front of Pan defensively. He’s my friend!

How did he get on the ship?!

He’s faerie folk, he can transport himself via the medium of water to wherever I am. And yes, I realize how that sounds.

Jay relaxed a bit, lowering his pistols. Sooooo, not an intruder?

Jay, issss thisss the intruder?! And then, Omegadon swung around the threshold of the bathroom doorway, wielding an even bigger blaster pistol!

AHHHHH!

AHHHHH!

No, it’s okay! This is Corey’s friend! He travels via water!

…what?!

Not an intruder!

Hmmmm. Omegadon didn’t look entirely convinced, but he replaces his pistol anyway.

Corey, clutching his chest, leaned back against the wall. Well, now that everything’s kosher I’m just going to wait for these heart palpitations to pass. Don’t mind me!

Can I have a tour of the ship?

Well, sure, I don’t see why not. Jay shrugged. Pan turned back towards Corey, waving him a cheery “goodbye” as Jay led the way. Corey gave Pan a halfhearted return wave as he tried to get his thumping heart under control.

Words

Ya know, this could have gone a completely different way. Picture this, Jin Ishida, the wettest of wet behind the ears rookies, meets Corey Smith, confirmed main event guy and present super-Super-SUPER Continental champion, in his very first outing. Nobody’s expecting much out of Jin. After all, there’s really only one way this match is going to go, right?

…right?

Wrong.

Jin, despite no one believing in him, lays into Corey Smith like a house of fire. The arena is electric, the people can’t believe what they’re seeing. The prowess, the technical skill on display against the XWF’s preeminent striker, is UNREAL. And maybe Jin doesn’t win. Maybe he comes within a hair’s breadth of that one-two-three. But it doesn’t matter. Because the impact he made is undeniable.

Yeah, it COULD have gone that way.

But it won’t, will it?

Look man, I get it. The level of competition in the XWF isn’t for everyone. It’s intense. It’s quite possibly the toughest promotion in the entire world to make your mark in. But it seems like you’re not even going to try. I’ll be the first one to admit that what you say is much less important than what you do, but for you, in THIS moment, you should at least be saying SOMETHING. And the fact that you’re saying NOTHING in what should be one of the defininign moments of your career if not your life? Ironically, it’s saying a lot. And it’s not saying anything good.

You’ve done nothing to build hype for yourself.

You’ve done nothing to at least pretend like you’ve got a chance in this match.

And even though you seem like a decent guy, that pisses me off. Because this spot could have gone to one of the young bucks backstage that are at least trying. It could have gone to Chameleon, or Kido, or Xavier Lux. Hell, it could have gone to Omegadon. As much as that prospect terrifies me. But it went to YOU. And YOU are SQUANDERING it.

So maybe I don’t want to talk about you. Maybe I want to talk about something that matters. Maybe I want to talk about the future of this championship. Because as I alluded to before, I have an opponent in mind for March Madness. Somebody that I think will actually show the world something.

Or at least, I thought I had someone in mind. But I’m second guessing that choice now. Suffice it to say, despite a healthy pedigree this person underperformed recently. I might need to see a bit more out of them before I give them the shot. Or maybe I’ll stick to my guns and the plan and give them the chance anyway.

That’s a shit ton of “maybe’s”.

But what’s not a “maybe” is what’s going to happen at Warfare. Because at Warfare, a young upstart will be pushed way too fast, way too soon, and will meet an ignoble end. And I will be rolling into March Madness against someone I hope and pray is worth my time.

And no, I’m still not spilling the beans on who that person is. But if you can’t see who I’m talking about, I’d say your powers of observation are lacking.

And beyond that? Beyond the boundaries of March Madness? Perhaps its a touch of ego talking, me getting a little ahead of myself, but I just don’t see this freight train slowing down. I don’t see me losing this title unless I want to lose it. Nonetheless, I see a possible future where I will have to be rid of it to claim a bigger prize. So I will. No disrespect to the title. But I can’t face someone for the Universal Championship with a preexisting belt around my waist, can I?

“All good things.” Que sera sera.

Laters.