S2, 13 The Games (Games Entry) (September 18, 2015)

Corresponding text underneath each picture.

**15th August 2095: Present Day**

**Somewhere in System 55 space...**

Somewhere out in space, amid the trillions of shining stars and between the teeming planets, a lone ship, *The Eagle*, floated aimlessly. Not lost, not out of power, just on no singular course at current.

There is no sound to be heard in space, but once aboard the ship, old rock music could be heard blaring out of the speaker system.

Accompanying the music was a lone voice, singing along as best they could. Admiring himself in a mirror and using his comb as a microphone, the ship’s captain attempted to hit the song’s famous high notes.

Ranger: “…when it’s all that you’ve got! Key change! WHOOAAHH!!! We’re half way there! WHOOOA-OH! Livin’ on a prayer!”

Ranger – Galactic smuggler, pirate and scoundrel. He preened himself and admired his, in his opinion, handsome, reflection and pouted a little as the music continued in the background.

Ranger: “Mmmm, hello ladies.” He crooned, repeating himself several times with slight variations in his vocal qualities.

Ranger: “Fancy spending your night with the best looking rogue this side of Varcoon?” he asked himself.

Wrangler: “Please.”

Ranger jumped out of his skin at the new voice and spun around to find a strangely-dressed man standing behind him.

Ranger: “Who are you?” he asked, drawing his blaster but with an effortless move, the newcomer sent it flying without even touching it.

Ranger: “You’re one of them aren’t you? The Collective?”

Wrangler: “Indeed I am. I am here because you have been chosen to participate in our legendary Games.”

Ranger: “Hey, I didn’t chose to participate in anything!” he argued.

Wrangler: “You have *BEEN* chosen.”

Ranger glanced around him, looking for inspiration for a way out of this.

Ranger: “Don’t suppose I get a say in this?” he tried.

The Collective Wrangler smiled sinisterly.

Wrangler: “None.”

Ranger: “Well at least let me grab my coat!” he commented, snatching up a red leather jacket from where it hung on a peg just behind him and swinging it on.

And with that a portal of some description opened up and both men were drawn in.

When he awoke, he still felt drowsy, however after a minute or so of coming around, sensations began returning to him.
First, he realised that the air was filled with the roaring of a crowd. A BIG crowd at that! Secondly, he felt that his wrists were chained to a wall, up in the air above his head. And then when his eyes finally worked fully again, he found he was not alone.

He was in a dark stone corridor, lit by burning torches placed at regular intervals along the walls on the opposite side to the wall he was chained to. He glanced along the corridor in both directions and found others, human and alien alike, chained up just as he was. A little way along to the right, natural light spilled into the corridor from a side passage, presumably the exit. He had no idea where he was. He didn’t even know what planet he was on. However, that didn’t really bother him.

Ranger: “Hello!” he turned to the prisoner on his left and greeted in his usual cocky, happy-go-lucky manner.

Prisoner: “I wouldn’t be so cheerful if I was you.”

Ranger: “Why not?”

However, before the second prisoner could reply, another voice boomed out along the echoy corridor.

Guard: “Right you sorry lot!” he shouted. “You’d better be sayin’ your prayers ‘cause all but one of ya are about to meet your maker!”

Ranger: “Pleasant chap, isn’t he?” he muttered to the man next to him.

Guard: “When you are released, you’re to make your way down here and then through the door, make a line on the left and pick up one cross each. Is that understood?” he bellowed.

Ranger: “Um, was that rhetorical or….?”

Without anybody touching them, the chains holding him to the wall vanished and his arms were free. He glanced around and found that the other prisoners had all been released as well.

Ranger: “Well, I suppose we’d better be good boys and girls then.” He commented as they all trudged down the corridor to where the light entered from the side passage.

Once there he turned into the side corridor and was blinded by intense light coming from the open archway up ahead.
The prisoners formed a line as they had been told to on the left side of the passage and shuffled forwards towards a guard with a basket. When Ranger got there, the guard handed him a small, sharp edged cross – a weapon of some sort.

Ranger: “Out of the door, line on the left, one cross each. Next?” he wondered aloud as he followed his fellow prisoners out into the arena. As they walked he did a quick count up and realised that not everybody who’d been inside was now out here. Here in the arena, there were only 6 men, himself included.

The arena was a huge circular affair, with sand under foot and big seating banks on all sides. Those banks were stuffed full of spectators. Mostly humans from the look of them but with a scattering of mixed aliens among them as well. As Ranger moved further out into the arena, it occurred to him that although the cheering and jeering audience looked human, he expected that they were all members of the Collective colonies.

Ranger: “Well… this looks fun!” he commented sarcastically to nobody in particular.

Games Master: “Greetings to all who join us here today!” a voice boomed out and Ranger looked around to find the source. As the crowd went wild for the speaker, he soon spotted what appeared to be a royal balcony of some sorts with a well-dressed man stood at the front, arms spread wide open and with a staff in one hand.

Games Master: “To those spectating; enjoy the show! To those who are about to fight; may those who die, die with honour. The battle is over when only one man is left standing! That man will be awarded his freedom! In the name of Deja, let the Games **begin**!”

His staff hit the ground and a *boom* that was definitely magnified in some way echoed out around the arena as the crowds cheered in expectation.

Suddenly aware of the situation, Ranger looked around at the other competitors – his new enemies.

He also spotted a big pile of weapons nearby which he was sure hadn’t been there before.

Ranger had killed before, numerous times, so he wasn’t in objection to doing it again, however he wasn’t just another mindless monster - he made a point of only killing when necessary.

He heard movement behind him and spun, throwing his metal cross as he did so. It embedded itself in the neck of the man he’d been speaking to back inside and, gargling his own blood, the man collapsed into the sand.

Ranger: “One down, four to go.”

The other four were locked in combat a short distance away, but one was soon felled and the winner of that duel, a huge looking alien, looked around for his next target. He spotted Ranger who, pursing his lips, looked around for a way out.

Of course there were none and seconds later the brute was barreling his way.

Ranger slipped his red jacket off and, holding it in his hands, puffed himself up to make himself look as big as possible, putting on his toughest expression.

The alien roared as he neared him and lunged forwards to grab the human, however with a shout of,

Ranger: “Oley!”

He nimbly dodged aside, and wrapped the alien’s head in his jacket. Caught off-guard, not expecting the move, the brute fell flat on his face in the dirt.

Ranger looked around for a weapon and was nearly impaled by a spear that was thrown his way. It stuck in the ground a couple of meters away and Ranger dashed over to it.

Ranger: “Thank you!” he called in the general direction that the spear had come from as he yanked it out of the ground.

The brute was just clambering back to his feet, pulling the jacket from his head, as, spinning the spear around, purely because he could, Ranger swiped the alien across the face with the sharp end. He cried out as green blood splashed onto the sand and he was whipped away. Ranger leapt towards his enemy’s back and impaled him with the spear to a roar from the crowd.

With a cry of pain he collapsed, dead, and Ranger heaved the weapon back out of his corpse.

He ambled over to where his jacket lay in the sand and swung it back on as he turned to survey the situation. In doing so, he found that only one of the other competitors remained.

Standing a short distance away, he was watching Ranger, sizing him up and for a few seconds, Ranger did likewise. Then, holding a sword aloft, the other man charged at Ranger, yelling a war cry as he did so. Ranger threw his spear at him but he dodged aside easily.

Now upon him, Ranger had to evade the enemy’s sword swings while trying to find himself a weapon. He ducked and rolled a couple of meters towards the weapons pile but still wasn’t close enough to grab anything. Stepping backwards, ever closer to the pile, he had to duck a couple more times. One swing of his enemy’s sword got close enough to tear a hole in his jacket, which in itself annoyed Ranger.

Hoping he was close enough, he dived backwards, away from his opponent and rolled to a crouch, snatching up a sword as he did so.

Ranger: “Let’s tango!” he egged his opponent on, but instead the alien stood rooted to the spot with a confused expression on his face.

Alien: “What?” he asked in a heavily accented tongue.

Ranger: “Huh? Oh, never mind. Let’s fight!”

He dived at the alien and the pair exchanged sword blows. They crashed together in an inelegant fashion, neither combatant having been trained in swordplay. They swung their blades at each other, but it was more a case of defense than offence.

Ranger feigned a thrust to the right and instead went left. His opposition fell for it and Ranger managed to slice into the other man’s side. He cried out and under any normal circumstance probably would have given up. However, with the promise of his freedom at stake, the alien grit his teeth and took another swing.

But, now injured, his attack was easily deflected by Ranger.

The crowd roared in anticipation, sensing the end was near. Ranger smirked despite himself and with a strong blow, disarmed the alien on his next attack. The crowd cheered again and Ranger actually looked up at them, still smirking.

His opponent collapsed to his knees, tears in his eyes.

Ranger, now playing on the crowd’s enthusiasm, encouraged them. He flapped his arms at them with a huge grin on his face as he pranced around his unarmed opponent. He roared triumphantly and trust his sword into the air. The crowd bellowed in response, not used to having a competitor actually enjoy themselves in the arena.

On the balcony, even the Games Master was on his feet, grinning at the spectacle.

Ranger: “Yeah?” he asked the crowd, aiming his sword at his already defeated opponent. “**Yeah?!**”

If it was possible, the crowd roared even louder, with ‘Kill’ chants mixed among the cheers.

Ranger stopped before his enemy, sword levelled at his neck but the man just stood there, sadness on his face. No fear, no terror, just pure sadness. Thinking of the family he would never see again, the friends, the life he had held – all gone.

Ranger’s grin turned into a hardened expression as the crowd drew a collective breath and he drew back his sword…

and then threw it aside.

Ranger: “No!”

The crowd didn’t know how to react, neither did the alien who’s life had just been spared.

Ranger: “You expect me to kill a man in cold blood? Unarmed? Defenseless? I’d heard stories that you were all cowards, but forcing others to kill for your pleasure is sick!” he shouted to the crowd.

Games Master: “Enough of this! Kill your opponent!”

Ranger: “NO!”

He strode over and offered his hand to the kneeling man. He took it and Ranger helped him to his feet.

Alien: “Thank you.”

Ranger: “Hey, don’t thank me yet.”

At that moment there was an explosion of black smoke just feet from them that threw them both backwards and from within emerged several armoured Collective guards, staffs in hand.

Games Master: “Final chance!”

In response, Ranger picked up the other man’s dropped sword and handed it back to him.

With that, the guards started to advance, their staff raised ready to attack.
Ranger and the wounded alien prepared themselves to fight, however, the attacks that came were nothing they could have defended against.

Blasts of some kind of energy knocked them both flying in separate directions.

Ranger crashed down onto the floor but recovered quickly, running towards the nearest guard. The guard was chanting a steady stream in his own language and a barrage of brightly coloured bolts flew out of nowhere at Ranger. He dived and rolled underneath them.

The guard obviously hadn’t expected the move and was unprepared. Ranger drove his blade into the mage’s chest and withdrew it again. The mage collapsed and Ranger moved towards the next nearest.

Not far away, the alien combatant wasn’t faring as well.

He attacked the guard closest to him, however, his injury made him weak and the guard easily deflected the blow with his staff. He chanted something and the combatant’s sword was yanked out of his hand by an unknown force. It pivoted in the air and less than a second later, embedded itself in the alien’s chest.

Ranger had managed to kill a second guard before the Games Master’s voice boomed out, ordering the guards to withdraw.

They vanished as they had arrived and it was then that Ranger, out of breath, noticed that his comrade had fallen.

Games Master: “You have fought valiantly, warrior. You do your family proud. However, your attempt to protect another was foolish. Never-the-less, only one now remains and as our tradition dictates, you will now be set free to return to your life.”

Ranger: “Thank fu…”

Games Master: “However!” he added. “As you disobeyed orders by refusing to kill your defeated enemy and then killed two of our kind, you will *not* be returned to your life. Instead you will be handed over to your authorities for due punishment. You are a wanted criminal, are you not?”

Ranger threw his sword down in disbelief.

Ranger: “Son of a…”

Games Master: “Do you have any last words?” he asked as a swirling blue portal began to form behind Ranger, ready to transport him goodness-knows where.

Ranger: “Yeah, on the subject of the authorities; I once knew this bad chick who, when she heard ‘Order in the court’, replied ‘I’ll have an extra-large burger meal with double fries and a thick shake’! You know who that was?”

On the balcony the Games Master frowned, confused.

Games Master: "I do not understand wha..."

Ranger: “Yo' Momma!” he grinned.

And with that, the portal engulfed him and he was gone.

**19th September 2095: Present Day**

**Earth...**

I felt my eyes fluttering even before I was aware that I was trying to open them. By the time I because fully conscious, I became aware that I had no idea of where I was or why I was there.

I was laying on a bed, covered in a thin white sheet and above me, the roof was white panelling. I tried to sit up but found my body to be incredibly stiff.

Man: “Here, let me help you, Mr. Rockwell.”

The voice startled me, as I hadn’t realised there was anybody else nearby. However, a man soon appeared in my vision and helped to sit me upright.

It was at this point that I realised I was in a hospital room. A private room, by myself, with light walls, a single window set in the wall on my right, currently with the blinds drawn, a small bedside table, a visitor’s chair to the left of my bed and the door to the left of that.

After my confusion subsided, my intrigue took over and I had a better look at the man. However, it only took me a couple of seconds to conclude that I’d never seen him before in my life.

He was still stood a couple of feet away between the bed and the chair.

Tank: “Who are you?”

Man: “My name is Rafael. We do not know each other, however we have a mutual friend.” He explained and looked at me as though I should know the answer.

And I did.

Tank: “The Brain.” I guessed, already knowing I was right.

Rafael: “Correct. The Brain organised this little get-together and made sure somebody was here when you woke up.”

Tank: “Wait, what happened?” I suddenly realised I didn’t actually have a clue what was going on. The last thing I remembered was…

Rafael: “You were found in an alleyway, badly injured and unconscious. You were rescued and brought here to hospital.”

I remembered now; crashing in the alley after the fight with the Wasps when they attacked me at…

Tank: “Barnaby!” I blurted out, afraid.

Rafael: “He is fine!” he assured me, calming me. “Mr. Walsh was injured but received medical attention and his wound has healed nicely. He was arrested on suspicion of aiding a known criminal but released on bail. In fact, he visited you last week. He wished for me to pass on his best wishes and also to return some items to you.” he indicated to the seat behind him and it was only now that I noticed my hat, satchel and coat, which I had left at Barnaby’s house, sitting on the chair.

Tank: “Wait, last week? How long have I been here?”

Rafael: “Nearly 8 weeks. It is currently the 19th of September. You have been unconscious for quite some time.”

That thought hurt my head – the fact I’d been out of it for so long. I thought back to what happened and had another question.

Tank: “Who found me?”

Rafael: “Your droid. Do not worry. He is currently with your ship. He is safe.”

I nodded thoughtfully. I owed Tracks my life. I mean, we’d fought side by side numerous times now and saved each other’s, in his case metaphorical, skin more times than I would care to count. But this time, he had actually saved me. Rescued me and brought me to safety, to hospital. But it was that point that made another suddenly strike me.

Tank: “Wait, if I’m signed in here...”

Rafael: “Relax.” He interrupted. “You are signed in under your false name, Chain Rockwell. They know not that you are the wanted criminal, Frank Foster.”

As he used my real name, I glanced around, for fear of being overheard.

Rafael: “We are fine to talk freely in here. The Brain organised this room for you when your droid contacted Mr. Grey and explained the situation you were in. We are quite safe to discuss things at ease.”

That settled my mind a little.

Tank: “But still, Chain Rockwell is wanted for crimes too.”

Rafael: “Indeed. And that is why I am here.”

I knew there had to be a catch.

Rafael: “The Brain has a deal for you.”

Tank: “Great, another deal.”

Rafael: “He will pay off your hospital bills, as well as ensuring that the staff do not look too closely into your records or find out who you really are, on the condition that upon your release, you fly immediately from here to London.”

Tank: “London? What’s happening in London?”

Rafael: “The war with the Collective does not go well. London will fall, closely followed by Earth unless something is done soon. They are calling in everybody. And I mean everybody. Anybody who is willing to fight is being encouraged to go to the front lines and help fight back.”

I nodded in understanding.

Tank: “What’s at stake for the Brain then? Why is he involved in all of that?”
Rafael: “It will not be good for anybody if the Collective succeed in taking Earth.”

I was essentially being blackmailed, however there was nothing I could do about it and so I knew I had to go along with it.

Tank: “Okay, tell the Brain he’s got a deal.”

Rafael: “Oh I do not report to the Brain directly. I am merely a messenger. I report to Mr. Grey, like you. However, I shall indeed pass on your acceptance.”

Tank: “Thanks.”

Rafael turned and headed towards the door but then turned back again.

Rafael: “Oh and the Brain also wishes me to pass on another message. He says you were foolish to visit Mr. Walsh. You should have known no good would come of it.”

Tank: “Yeah, well you tell him…." I began angrily before changing my mind. "Ah, forget it.”

Rafael: “Very well.” he smiled and nodded politely. “I believe that now you are conscious, as your wounds have mostly healed, after a brief period of monitoring, you should be discharged within the next couple of days.”

I nodded but then another question occurred to me.

Tank: “Where abouts am I? How long will it take me to get to London?”

Rafael: “Oh, a couple of hours maybe. You’re still in New York. You’re in the Lana Foster Memorial Hospital.”

My eyes widened in realisation. With a knowing smile and a nod, Rafael left, closing the door behind him and leaving me alone in my room - somewhere within the hospital that had been re-named in honour of my late mother.

**BONUS IMAGES**

The small set for the Games Master's box at the Games.

Tank's hospital room.

I was particularly pleased with how the hospital bed turned out.

As my series is going to be jumping around though time, I will include a date on each episode and add it to the timeline at the end of each episode so that you can follow it.

TIMELINE