Nine hundred and fifty-something Kraktol stand within the confines of the Bloodbearer's Holodeck. Having removed all the seating from the room, José pairs off a quarter of the Kraktol present and has them stand opposite one another atop small, elevated platforms.

"The rules are simple," Admiral Rodriguez says, as he paces between the Kraktol warriors. "Knock your opponent to the ground and pin them there for ten seconds, throw them out of the ring, or beat them unconscious so they can't get back up. No killing. If you kill your opponent, I will personally execute you myself, and there won't be anyone here who can stop me. We're all allies, but I won't tolerate savage, uncontrollable psychopaths aboard my ship. If you cannot stay your claws against your own kin, I certainly won't trust you not to backstab the Kessu, let alone me. Do I make myself clear?!"

"Yes Admiral!" All the Kraktol shout.

"Fantastic," José replies. "There are no judges necessary. Umi, this ship's synthmind, will observe your matches. When the borders of your ring flash red, that will mean she has designated a winner. Immediately stop fighting and disembark your platform. Now, without further ado... begin!"

Seconds after José finishes speaking, a brutal, all-out melee erupts. Brother fights brother, sister fights sister, and both sexes even fight each other.

José walks away from the competitor rings to a nearby elevated stage, where Lord Drall, Soren, and Megla stand, watching the participants from above. He leaps atop the twenty-foot-tall platform, startling Lord Drall with his agility.

"Your Terran physiology is far mightier than I expected, Admiral," Drall remarks, a look of covetousness in his eyes.

"It's nothing special," José replies, turning his attention to the combat arenas. José positions himself between Drall and Megla, with Soren standing on Megla's opposite side. "My body is nowhere near its peak strength. I'll need a year of daily training before my muscle augmentations reach their maximum threshold."

Admiral Rodriguez sweeps his gaze across the arena. He recognizes some of the participants, including the scrawny little last-place warrior, Grundle, as well as Kilgore, the sole Algaru among all of the Kraktol present. However, neither of them catches José's attention, but instead Sapphire, facing off against her opponent, the top-ranked Kraktol, Kisa Kindris.

Not only does José's attention fall upon the two of them, but Drall, Megla, and Soren's as well.

"Oh, to think my daughters would both fight each other in the first round..." Drall mutters.

Kisa stands half a head taller than Sapphire. Her deceptively lean, muscular figure mirrors Sapphire's exactly, making the two of them appear evenly matched. It's only the numbers above their heads that indicate any sizable difference between the two combatants.

"In a world where numbers are the deciding factor," José mutters, "Sapphire loses this fight ten out of ten times."

Drall nods sagely. "However, that is not the reality within which we live."

"Very true."

Sapphire immediately lunges forward and balls her claws into fists. Kisa shrinks back from her sister and holds up her arms to protect herself. Sapphire rains a flurry of blows upon Kisa, pummeling her arms, shoulders, and midsection. Even so, her persistent punches only push Kisa back a bit and make her stumble a little. Kisa's incredible strength and durability turn Sapphire's brutal followups into feeble raindrops splashing upon a window.

"Kyargh!" Sapphire shouts, as she sweeps her tail toward Kisa's feet. "I have to get into the First Group, but you're in my way!"

Kisa hops in the air, evading Sapphire's attack. "I-I don't want to fight you... little sister..."

"You have to!" Sapphire shouts, as she continues punching and kicking Kisa's immobile body. "Those are the rules!"

"But I don't like fighting!"

"Kyaaaargh! I don't care what you like! I care about getting into the First Group so I can mate with my darling!"

Kisa continues her passive resistance, hiding behind her arms as she tries futilely to protect herself from Sapphire's frenzied attacks. Sapphire rushes at Kisa and crashes into her, bowling the Malvik over and knocking her to the floor. She swings her fists again and again, smacking Kisa's head from side to side. Even so, Kisa's unbelievably durable body prevents her from suffering any serious injuries.

"Aargh!" Sapphire yells. "It's not fair! Why do you get all of the best genes?! They're wasted on a weakling pacifist like you! Fight back, you little coward! You're not fit to be the Malvik!"

Kisa pushes Sapphire away and jumps to her feet, all while gasping for breath. "We don't have to fight, S-Sapphire! We're sisters! I'll just concede... then you can win."

"Oh, no you don't!" Sapphire howls. "I'm going to beat you fair and square, mommy's girl! Kyargh! If you dare give up, I'll never forgive you!"

The smaller Kraktol hops around, jabbing the air with her fists as she hypes herself up for her second engagement against the Malvik.

Kisa shrinks back again. "W-why do you have to be so unreasonable?"

"Stop blubbering and fight me!" Sapphire yells. "I can't earn my darling's respect if I beat someone who won't even fight back! This fight will become a stain upon my honor!"

"B-but..." Kisa mutters.

"No buts! Kyargh! Fine! You leave me no choice, Kisa! I'll finish this in one move! I'm gonna leave a mark on you that you'll never forget!"

A vicious glint appears in Sapphire's eyes. She unballs her fists and exposes her claws, then charges at Kisa.

Slash-slash-slash!

Sapphire rakes Kisa's arms with her talons, tearing off several of Kisa's scales and bloodying her limbs. Kisa shrieks in pain and cowers under Sapphire's onslaught.

"Ow! Oww! Sister, stop, please! It hurts!"

"Good!" Sapphire snarls. "It should hurt! I'm glad it hurts! All you do is whine, cry, and sniffle, all day long! You're an embarrassment to the Kraktol!"

She slashes Kisa's midsection, making Kisa dive to the side instinctively to clutch her wound. "Kyaaargh! It hurts! You're hurting me!"

"Yes, this is a fight! That's what we do in fights!" Sapphire retorts. "But if you still won't hit me back, then I'll just have to get even nastier!"

Sapphire rears her claws back. She lunges forward, aiming for Kisa's eyes.

In that split-second, a look of terror washes across Kisa's face. She watches in horror as her sister goes for the finishing blow, a cruel attack that will mutilate her and leave her a disfigured, ugly crocodile for years to come.

At that moment, her fear turns to rage.

"NO!"

Kisa balls up her fist and swings upward.

THUMP!

She uppercuts Sapphire's lower jaw, slapping it against her snout. The impact creates a clapping sound and instantly reverses Sapphire's momentum, flinging her backward. The blue-and-green Kraktol spins around and crashes against the platform, skidding on her back toward the edge. Once she stops, she falls silent, only managing to cough weakly while her body remains immobile.

"O-oh no!" Kisa gasps. She jumps to her feet and runs over to Sapphire. "S-sister! Are you okay?! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hit you! N-not that hard, anyway!"

Sapphire's eyes flick around in confusion. "Kuh! Kuh... good... good work, sis..."

Kisa reaches down to cradle Sapphire by the back of her neck. "Don't worry! I'll get you to the medics! You'll be okay!"

Sapphire's eyes narrow to slits. "Kah! At least you fought back. Now my victory won't be an honorless one."

The Malvik pauses. "Huh?"

Suddenly, Sapphire grabs Kisa's outstretched arm, then plants a foot against her stomach. Before Kisa can react, Sapphire flips her into the air, over her head, and throws her off the platform.

Thunk!

Kisa lands on her back, knocking the wind out of her.

"Aaah! Aaaooo..."

She watches as Sapphire painfully climbs to her feet while massaging her jaw. "Tch. As expected. You landed one blow, and then you lost your nerve. Some Malvik you are."

The ring's borders flash red, and Umi speaks from above. "In the first match of Kisa versus Sapphire, Sapphire wins. Please depart the combat platform so that the next participants may take their positions."

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Without another word, Sapphire turns and staggers away.

Admiral Rodriguez and the others watch the entire battle silently, without commenting on any of its happenings. After it concludes, the Terran shakes his head.

"That's what I was afraid of. Kisa has a body any Kraktol would kill to possess, but she hasn't a drop of fighting spirit nor bloodlust. Such incredible strength is wasted on her."

Drall snorts. "Graugh. Just look at Sapphire. She is the most average of my warriors in terms of martial prowess, yet she fights like the Thülvik herself. Hehe... when I look at her, I cannot help but remember the first time I gazed upon Loreen's shimmering scales..."

While Lord Drall muses to himself about the past, José stares at Kisa, noting the expression of guilt, sadness, and betrayal on her face.

There were no winners in that fight... José thinks. Only two sisters who further fractured their relationship.

...

Hours pass.

Kisa and Sapphire fight again, but this time against different opponents. Many other Kraktol join the battles, slowly working their way up and down the rankings via their defeats and victories.

At the end of the first day, everyone disperses, allowing José to examine the new rankings.

"Soren."

He gestures to his Second Officer, and she walks over. "Yes, Admiral?"

"What do you make of these preliminary rankings?"

Soren looks at the names on José's datapad. She points at a few specific Kraktol. "These two here, they're brothers. You can see they've both gone up the rankings ten positions, mirroring one another. And over here, Kilgore was ranked at the bottom of the First Group, yet he's already advanced twenty positions."

José nods. "And Kisa? She's fallen forty positions. It won't be long before she plummets to the middle of the First Group."

Megla walks over to the Admiral's left side. "I don't know Kisa well or anything, but I've heard rumors. She isn't a competitive person. She hates fighting, and she frightens easily. Don't let her statistics fool you, Admiral. Even with her incredible genetics... Kisa won't amount to much here."

"That's too bad..." José mutters. "I actually like Kisa. She's nice. Pleasant. But if she goes out to the battlefield as she is now... she'll only become a liability."

"Who knows?" Soren says. "Maybe this competition will change her. Sometimes, people need a push before they can break out of their shell."

Megla shakes her head. "Once a coward, always a coward. Kisa won't ever change."

"We shall see," Soren replies.

The Kraktol file out of the room, while the Admiral and his two officers follow at the rear. However, just before they leave, one of the smallest, scrawniest Kraktol turns around.

"A-Admiral, sir!"

José pauses. "Grundle? Is something the matter?"

The lowest-ranked Kraktol bows his head sheepishly. "Not... not exactly, sir. Well, I mean, yes... I lost six matches in a row today! Graugh! I'm still in last place! I don't want to stay a loser! Can you help me?"

"Haha. What, do you want some personal one-on-one training?" José asks.

Grundle falls to the ground and kowtows. "Yes! Please, graugh! Please train me, Admiral! I'll do anything you ask, no matter how hard the task!"

José's eyebrows arch visibly. "Is that so? Well, you're the only Kraktol who was smart enough to ask. I will train you, but don't expect to get any sleep tonight. If you want to apprentice in the ways of war under me, I'll bust your balls and whip you into shape. I'll go even harder on you than I did Megla and Soren. Are you okay with that?"

Grundle quickly raises his head and slaps his jaw against the floor. "Yes, Admiral! No matter what you order, I'll do it! But, erm..."

"What?" José asks. "Something on your mind?"

The scrawny gray Kraktol's scales flush with color. "N-not exactly... it's just... what are 'balls,' sir? Will it hurt if you 'bust' them?"

José facepalms. "It's... a Terran metaphor. But needless to say, busting them would hurt, yes."

"Graugh! I see! Well, a little pain won't kill me! When do we start, Admiral?"

José glances at Megla and Soren, then motions for them to leave. After they depart, he grins.

"Right now. Umi, switch to the monster fighting simulator. Let's see how Grundle here handles a Troll."

"Orders acknowledged, Admiral."

.......................................

Hours become days, and days become weeks.

Two weeks after the tournament's start, Admiral Rodriguez stands with Lord Drall at his side. All of the Kraktol line up before him according to their tournament rankings, with five groups of just under two hundred Kraktol each.

José slowly surveys the participants, sweeping his gaze across their ranks. So drastically have their positions shifted that hardly anyone has remained within their initial group. Sapphire, no longer within the Third Group, now stands near the front of the First Group with her chest pridefully puffed out. Ranked thirtieth out of the nine hundred and fifty Kraktol present, she has drastically shifted the opinions of those around her, earning herself a large degree of respect.

Meanwhile, Grundle, no longer as scrawny as he was two weeks prior, has a similar muscle mass to all the other Kraktol and stands at the front of the Third Group. When he sees the Admiral looking at him, he smiles cheekily, then averts his eyes, remembering the Admiral's directions regarding military decorum.

"Everyone. You have done well," José says, as he continues examining the Kraktol's positions. "Based upon how drastically the rankings have shifted, I think it goes without saying that all of you must have realized the importance of actual combat experience compared to raw body strength. When you started, many of you compared your statistical numbers to those around you. Some of you felt shame, while others felt pride... but look at you now!"

José slowly walks toward the First Group. "Many who were weak at the start proved themselves by defeating brothers and sisters stronger than them, while many who smugly thought themselves invincible fell into desolation. This tournament's results are what happens when theory meets reality. Look at the one who now stands in first place!"

The Terran smiles as he stops before Kilgore, the lone Algaru descendant, and the first-ranked warrior among all of the Kraktol.

"Kilgore... one hundred fights, and zero losses! What a fine warrior! What cunning you displayed! What ferocity! What tenacity!"

Admiral Rodriguez grabs Kilgore's hand and raises it high. "Kilgore, your champion!"

The room erupts in cheers. Many Kraktol look at him with deep respect, remembering the viciousness of his fights and how badly he beat them. Very few look at him with anything less than unbridled envy and fighting spirit, for they know that he has, indeed, earned his position.

José lowers Kilgore's arm. "You who stands a full head shorter than everyone present. You, who by all means should have lost every fight, instead won them all consecutively! You are the only Algaru I have ever met, but already, your presence here is a testament to the strength of your species."

Kilgore's body stands straight and proud. However, his eyes tell a different story. Tears form at their corners, making him blink repeatedly. "Hurgh. Forgive me, Admiral. I... I should not weep at a time like this..."

The Algaru's deep, growly voice stands in contrast to his small stature. José pauses to smile at him. "There is no shame in crying, Kilgore. Your tears come not from sadness, but from relief. I know why you fought so hard... and you succeeded in fulfilling your goal. Nobody here will ever question the might of the Algaru."

After comforting Kilgore, José turns to look at the Kraktol in second place. "Gorlax Stormfang, former communications officer under Orgon. As the oldest Kraktol here aside from Drall himself, you have done well not to lose to your juniors. Your round with Kilgore was one I'll not forget for centuries to come."

Several scars line the green-scaled Kraktol's chest, all of them from his fight with Kilgore. Gorlax nods slowly. "Graugh! If I had to lose to anyone today, I'm glad it was Kilgore. He is a true warrior, and the honor of his people!"

The room erupts in cheers again. And so, José continues walking the ranks, congratulating several of the more outstanding Kraktol present. He even pauses to point out Grundle, demonstrating just how far the former last-ranked Kraktol has come.

However, José's mention of Grundle causes many Kraktol to look toward the rear of the Fifth Group, where one female appears particularly conspicuous.

José casually walks toward the last place among everyone present. There, he finds Kisa, the former strongest, now at the very bottom of the ranks.

"One hundred fights. One hundred losses..." José mutters. "I suppose fighting really isn't in your nature."

Tears well up in Kisa's eyes. She hangs her head in shame, while her body trembles uncontrollably. "I'm... I'm sorry, Admiral, sir... I just..."

Admiral Rodriguez squeezes Kisa's shoulder. "You can't help the way you are. You're still young, Kisa. You'll have plenty of opportunities to better yourself."

After hesitating for a moment, José continues walking. Most of the Kraktol in the Fifth Group hang their heads in shame, having fallen from the higher ranks to their current, pitiful states. Only a few, who started off in the Fifth Group and advanced their positions, look at least a little bit spirited.

"In life, there are winners, and there are losers," José says. "Rarely does a situation arrive in which everyone can win. For one of you to claim victory, someone else must suffer a defeat. Therefore! For those of you who fell in the rankings, just remember... it is not victory or defeat which determines your value... but whether or not your losses have taught you any lessons! Now that we have established the five groups, I will begin training all of you in earnest. Over the next several months, I will forge you into warriors. Then, we will attack Yama, the Shadow Emperor. We will wipe out his heretical filth from this galaxy, and all of you shall return home as legends!"

"Yeah!!" The assembled Kraktol shout. "Graugh! Kyargh!!"

"Now disperse," José concludes. "You begin your training tomorrow."

The crocodilians turn on their heels and leave, slowly filing out of the Holodeck's exit. As they leave, only a few remain behind, consisting of Grundle, Sapphire, Drall, and José's crew.

"I did well, didn't I?" Sapphire asks, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she rushes over to José's side. "Thirtieth place! I'm in the First Group now, darling!"

José crosses his arms. "Yes. Good job."

His tone contains no warmth.

"Is something wrong?" Sapphire asks, batting her eyes. "I thought you'd be ecstatic! Now we can finally be together!"

"As I've said on several occasions, I have no interest in mating with you," José explains. "More importantly, what you did to Kisa was downright awful. Defeating her in battle was one thing, but the way you insulted and belittled her was uncalled for. I would never have treated any of my brothers-in-arms so terribly, let alone my blood-related family."

Sapphire glances at Megla, who turns her head away in reply. "But darling, that's not my fault! Kisa was much bigger and stronger than me! I only did what I needed in order to win! She's tough! She can take a tongue-lashing!"

"Often, the spoken word hurts more than any blade or bullet," José mutters. The Admiral turns his eyes away from Sapphire, making her lower her head. He glances at Grundle and smiles. "You, on the other hand. You may not have made it into the First Group, but I daresay nobody worked harder than you in this tournament. Just look at those bags under your eyes! You've barely slept at all over the last two weeks."

Grundle's grey scales look even less colorful than usual. He staggers forward, smiling haggardly. "I could never have gotten this far without your help, Admiral. Graugh! I will serve you obediently for the rest of my life."

"I'm glad to hear that," José replies. "Now, go and get some rest. I'll give you one night off before we return to training like crazy."

"Yes, Admiral!"

Grundle leaves with a huge smile on his face. After his departure, silence falls over the group, with Sapphire looking the most uncomfortable.

"I'm... I'm going to go apologize to Kisa..." Sapphire says. "M-maybe you're right, darling. I did say terrible things to her."

José nods. "You did, but your relationship hasn't completely shattered. I hope you can remind her why you're such a good sister."

Sapphire nods, but doesn't reply. She shuffles out of the room behind Grundle, while Drall, José, and his officers stay behind.

"Alright. Soren," José says. "Get together with the technically-minded Kraktol and Kessu. I want as many shuttlecraft fixed over the next few months as you can manage. Focus on weapon-oriented craft, those we can use to fight the Shades. Megla, I'll be leaving the training of the Kraktol to you. As for Drall and I, we're going to iron out the details of this operation. I'll pop into the Holodeck whenever I have time, but don't expect to see me often. Understood?"

Both women nod simultaneously. "Yes, Admiral."

They leave, while José and Drall stay behind.

Admiral Rodriguez mentally reconfigures the holodeck, transforming it into an operations center, one with a huge, three-dimensional image of Tarus II in its center.

"Lord Drall... let's get to work."