Page 80 of Star Champion

“You have my word.” Now there would be one more member on his team to reinstate Kes Aves: Earth.

The long journey from Eireya back to the frontier was finally over. In Barésh City, Klark stood under its artificial sky dimming with looming nightfall, taking in the sight of the roiling heavens above and the crushing crowds below. He absorbed the trademark hullabaloo and the stench of the place.Ah, you festering rock. I believe I missed you.

At any moment, he could cross paths with Jemm. She would be surprised to see him so soon. He never wanted them to be apart again. Did one simply come out and say so? Or, wait for the right moment? Nerves made his palms tingle. If only life were like bajha, then he would know exactly what to do.

But winning in bajha did not come without a lot of practice and listening to instinct. Perhaps relationships were built much the same way.

By the time Jemm had walked through the apartment door the first day back on Barésh, she had formulated a plan to help persuade the dozers in the Galactic League to reverse their decision. It required immediate execution. With the season moving ever forward, there was no time to waste.

“I want to play bajha for you,” she had informed Nico the moment he cracked his bleary eyes open that morning. Then she explained what had brought her home.

“You’ll play at Ore’s Head and at my new club Under Duress,” he had said. “Everyone knows about ya, sis. You’re the star of the colony.”

“I’ll only play as a lass, though. And that’s against the rules. It means you gotta break gaming regulations just as you’re getting started owning clubs. It could ruin ya.”

His shock at her proposal was comical. His almost immediate enthusiasm for the crazy idea five seconds later was pure Nico. “To hell with the rules.”

Rules never mattered on Barésh anyway.

But rules mattered to the Galactic League. If all went as she hoped, news of her playing openly as a woman would depart Barésh on the lips of the many travelers who passed in and out of the colony and gambled on a little street bajha while there. Just as news of Sea Kestrel had passed from a cargo pilot to Yonson Skeet to Prince Klark, word of her playing as a female would reach the ears of infuriated fans who wanted Kes Aves back in the ring. They would know that competing as a female was not only possible, it was profitable. Then she would have done her part while Klark was busy doing his.

Now, Jemm and Nico traversed Central City toward Ore’s Head. Her belly might be warm and full with Ma’s cooking, and her excitement at another evening playing bajha as a lass was high, but her heart felt as hollow as a discarded ore canister. It was hard not to imagine weeks apart turning into months, or longer. Maybe forever.

Being with him seemed like a fantasy now, a beautiful dream, now that she was wide-awake and facing reality. If the ban on her play could not be reversed, she would accelerate plans to resettle the family somewhere she could find work to make the bajha savings last. Klark would still be a prince. She would still be a working lass. As time went on, he would eventually move on, drawn back to the life into which he was born. They had not made any promises to each other for more.

But, she could not think of that now. It was time to cause a ruckus in the staid world of elite bajha as only a Baréshti could do.

Once at the club, which was packed to capacity, she put on a good show for Nico’s patrons, aye, but it was hard not to fight the matches with as much automation as one of the bucket-bots used in the mines. Her opponents were so far below the level of the pros she had played with that she had to fight the temptation to finish them off in mere seconds. They deserved better than a quick dismissal, and so did the audience. Black Hole she was not.

Nico had taken her suggestion of holding weekly instructional classes for a very small fee. Baréshtis did not like paying for things they could not hold in their hands, inhale into their lungs, or ingest into their bellies. But in mere days the signup sheets were full, and the waiting list had filled three times over. Nico would need to hire more staff to handle the workload. Already other fight clubs were planning to imitate them and divert the overflow. But most citizens wanted to learn from the champion herself.

Jemm waited in the ring for her next challenger. Her blindfold was snug, her headgear fitted on top of it. The announcer made the usual introductions. She proudly wore her Team Eireya uniform, but with a strip of fabric cannibalized from the inside of Da’s suit tied around her upper arm. In this way she had both her Da and Klark with her.

The match had barely commenced when she felt the energy in the club shift. She cast her awareness toward her opponent, but felt nothing radiating from the man but a sense of nervous, pessimistic determination. She redoubled her effort to concentrate.

She sent the hopeful to his defeat with as much entertainment value as she could muster. The crowd cheered. She kneeled waiting until the referee grabbed her by the wrist—although far gentler now that he knew she was a lass—and tugged her to her feet. Off came her blindfold. “The winner, once again, is the infamous and infinitely lovely, the invincible Sea Kestrel! Let’s hear it for our very own Champion of Barésh!”

The stomping and howling rocked her eardrums. The stench of sweat and vapes thickened the air. But Nico had installed ventilation that helped…some. Wearing a brilliant stage smile, she mentally counted down how many more matches were left to go when another weird hunch drew her attention back to the mass of spectators. She scanned the crowd, and almost turned away when her gaze snagged on someone who did not seem like the rest.

In the dim light, she could make out the silhouette of a tall nobleman outfitted in dark off-worlder finery, his hand curved around a cup of ale. The back of her neck tingled. When she met his familiar, penetrating golden eyes, the tingle of joy slid down her spine and made her shiver. Klark!

Holy dome. What was he doing here?

Her spirits levitated and whirled like the heavenly bodies in the nighttime dome. It took a massive effort not to leap out of the ring and into his arms, and to refocus her attention on her next opponent, who trotted with cocky hope into the ring.

An assistant wrapped a blindfold over her eyes then Jemm put her headgear back on. She was so rattled by Klark’s unexpected appearance she could hardly form coherent thoughts. She wanted to run into his arms. She wanted to run away. She wanted to rail at him for letting her go, and for coming back. She wanted to pound her fists on his chest, and to kiss him to within an inch of their lives. She wanted him inside her mind and deep inside her body. Because with that one glance, she knew the maddening aristo was stuck inside her heart for good.

Quiet your mind. Glad for the darkness, she sucked in a shuddering breath and distributed her weight equally between her boots. Her gloves curved around her sens-sword as the crowd roared and stomped, drowning out her pounding heartbeat. It had never taken more discipline than it did in that moment to gather her self-control to complete a match. But she did, and she continued to play until she had run through the entire slate of opponents for the night.

She tore off her helmet and blindfold, handing them and her sens-sword to her assistant, before she jumped down from the ring and pushed through the roiling crowd of well-wishers. “Good going, lass! “That’s our girl!” All of them were elated she had made their pockets a wee bit heavier while providing an evening of entertainment of the likes never seen before in their hard lives on this world.

At the same time, Klark shoved his way toward the ring as she continued plowing ahead in his direction. The patrons parted, allowing the champion to pass, likely seeing the intensity in her face, and the fire in her eyes indicated that she was a force they might not want to reckon with.

Player and prince finally collided halfway between the ring and the bar.

With a tender smile curving his mouth, he stood still, taking in the sight of her as if she were all that mattered in the world. It was the kind of heart-stopping gaze she had waited a lifetime to see focused on her…and for all the right reasons. “You crazy aristo,” she said, her voice thick.

“I know.” He hauled her against his hard body. The toes of her boots skidded over the dirty floor as he lifted her into a deep and dizzying kiss. His wonderful and familiar scent intoxicated her; his hot mouth even more so. She was only somewhat aware of cheers and laughter as those milling close by reacted to the show.

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