Barbarians

So prepare for the coup of the century

Be prepared for the murkiest scam

Meticulous planning

Tenacity spanning

Decades of denial

Is simply why I'll

Be king undisputed

Respected, saluted

And seen for the wonder I am

Yes, my teeth and ambitions are bared

Be prepared!

The Lion King - “Be Prepared”

“...Is all in readiness?” Chugaz Uydan inquired of his aide.

“Yes, Dhyaksh,” the aide replied, as he handed over a plain black case. “Your blade, as you requested, and the other items.”

Chugaz opened the case and removed the dagger, its steel glinting in the light. He could see no hint of the Ksabhox opiate along its edge. It wouldn’t kill Jiyazh Ghuuyaz, for that would be far too obvious, instead, it would slow him down enough to drop his guard. The former Dhyaksh was a skilled warrior beyond par, and anyone who faced him in a fair contest was at a distinct disadvantage.

Not that he had any intention of allowing the battle to be fair.

The other items in the case were carefully secreted on his person. Any of them could tip the balance in his favor, as only a fool kept a single arrow in his quiver. There was only one way this contest would end...with the death of Jiyazh Ghuuyaz.

“Then let us not keep my challenger waiting,” Chugaz said with a chuckle, as they headed towards the shuttle bay.

“Someone remind me again why I signed off on this insanity?” Lin complained to no one in particular.

“It is a little late to object to the plan, Sergeant,” Jiyazh jested, as they stood in the arena.

“I’ve been objecting all along,” Lin pointed out, “not that it mattered.”

“We had no other viable options,” Nassat said in resignation. “At least this contest gives us a fighting chance. And it allowed us to retrieve the other teams...the ones still alive,” he said.

It had taken several hours, but Chugaz Uydan had responded to Jiyazh’s challenge. The protocol involved was rather complicated, filled with many arcane traditions and curlicues. One right granted to the challenger was safe passage for his clan to act as a witness...which in this case he asserted was the ill-fated unit that had accompanied him to the surface. It had caused some debate, claiming they were acting In Loco Gens, but they had wrangled the necessary permissions. He had also arranged for transport, and as the survivors began to arrive, they realized just how badly they’d been hurt.

Musashi raised an eyebrow at Nassat’s comment but said nothing. Instead, his attention was on the arena itself, as ancient as the Coliseum in Rome, as it filled with Khonhim warriors. He stepped away from the others and whispered into his mic. “Musashi to the team. Are you in position?”

“...in position,” Tango replied. “Have eyes on the crowd, in a good hide. The only way they’ll find me is if they trip over me.”

“Systems up and running,” Graybird chimed in. “I’m tapped into their coms. They try and pull a fast one, I’ll whistle for the cavalry.”

“I thought we were the cavalry,” Whisper laughed.

“Knock it off,” Musashi growled. “You all tucked in?”

“Snug as a bug,” Whisper giggled. “Just say the word.”

“Copy that,” Musashi replied, glancing up as the sound of a shuttle on approach caught his attention. “Target is inbound,” he informed the others. “We are a Go.”

The shuttle eased down into the arena, as the main hatch opened. Chugaz Uydan stepped down the short gangway, flanked on either side by his retinue, as he strode towards the center of the amphitheater. All traces of humor vanished from Jiyazh’s face as he strode out to meet him, with Nassat and Lin in tow. Musashi himself hung back...the tradition only allowed two others on the field to act as the Khonhim equivalent of “Seconds”, leaving him free to coordinate the teams if Plan A went to shit.

As far as he was concerned, “Plan A” had gone out the window the second Chugaz Uydan agreed to their terms. There was no way that snake would play by the rules.

After disgorging its passengers, the shuttle lifted off once more and settled a short distance away, just outside the amphitheater. The two groups stopped a couple of meters apart, in the center of the arena.

“Chugaz Uydan,” Jiyazh said, inclining his head.

“Jiyazh Ghuuyaz,” the Dhyaksh sneered. “It has been a long time.”

“Far too long,” Jiyazh agreed. “We should have settled this matter years ago.”

The Dhyaksh glanced at Nassat and Lin, as his sneer grew wider. “Consorting with the enemy. And yet you dare impugn my honor.”

“You do not know the meaning of the word,” Jiyazh fired back. “I will, however, be glad to teach it to you.”

Chugaz scowled. “Enough talk.” He pulled his dagger from its scabbard. “I have a war to win.”

Jiyazh held up his hand. “Not so fast.” He motioned to Sergeant Lin, who stepped forward with a case of his own, flipping it open to reveal a pair of matched blades. “To ensure the contest is based on skill,” he said. “Choose.”

The Dhyaksh’s scowl deepened. “You insult me yet again, Jiyazh, by accusing me of deception.”

“I accuse you of nothing,” Jiyazh said. “It is, however, my right. Choose...or forfeit.”

Chugaz snarled in quiet fury, before handing off his dagger to his Second. He stomped over to where Lin waited and plucked both blades from the case, making a great show of inspecting both weapons. He made his choice, flipping the other knife at Jiyazh in a gesture of utter contempt.

Jiyazh caught the thrown blade by its handle, nodding to Nassat and Lin, as Chugaz gestured to his own Seconds. All four stepped out of the ring, taking up positions at the cardinal points marked on the earth.

Moving to a crouch, Jiyazh readied himself. “The field of honor is clear,” he intoned. “Only one may leave it alive.”

“You should have stayed in exile,” Chugaz said. “Instead, you will die impaled on my blade.”

“One of us will,” Jiyazh said.

Chugaz sneered at him once more, working his way around him, sizing him up, while Jiyazh pivoted in place. Without warning the Dhyaksh screamed with rage, leaping into the air...driving the dagger straight at Jiyazh’s heart.