As she walked to the west end of the park, and as she passed multiple forms of humanoid males, Be'larien was left with the subtle feeling of traversing an old-world Freak Show. She also realized she was probably feeling just a tad too much relief at that sensation. Come one, come all! Hide your children! Come and see the revolting, horrifying Non-Thelossian Male! Just a nickel a view!
Be'larien snickered to herself. She also did her best not to notice everyone staring at Hasa laying on her head. She arrived at the area for public transport and walked to a section with vehicles reminiscent of new model black Lincoln Town Cars, minus the wheels. Most public transport was small pod-like vehicles or larger ones for families. The larger car-shaped vehicles were reserved for 1st Class citizens.
Vaguely sensing the scan of her identity as she entered the vehicle, Be'larien was impressed with the interior. There was no driver area, the vehicle being entirely AI piloted. Instead the entire interior was plush seats and creature comforts like a nice limousine. 1st Class citizenship rocks.
1st Class citizenship wasn't easy to come by in the Federation. It required a sizeable contribution, whether by military service, economic improvement, or political advancement. There was only one group that all had 1st Class citizenship, Thelossians. It had been a part of the requirements from the Thelossians when they agreed to act as defenders for the Federation. It was never much of an issue in reality as most Thelossians stayed on Thelossian controlled worlds.
"To the Sector Arena," Be'larien said after she'd sat down. The vehicle instantly took off. As they flew, Be'larien thought about the Arena.
While civilization had advanced, that didn't mean savagery and bloodlust had been left behind. Some races were still extremely warrior-like, and needed an outlet. As such, most major worlds where many species interacted had some form of facility like the Arena, regardless of what they called it.
The Arena provided two primary services. First, two sentient beings could opt to fight each other through the use of real-to-life VR. This allowed people to vent on one another without physical bloodshed. Most civilized worlds didn't want to condone citizens killing each other, even if agreed upon, and this seemed like a decent compromise. That didn't stop Underground Arenas from providing true blood sport though.
The second service was for those who needed something more visceral and 'real'. They hosted an actual gladiatorial arena where one could fight dangerous beasts to their hearts' content. And this was the service Be'larien intended to avail herself of.
Arriving at the Arena, Be'larien exited the 'cab'. The outside of the Arena didn't appear that different from the surrounding buildings, other than the giant holographic sign announcing it as 'The Arena'. It looked almost like a futuristic office building, a notion not challenged by the people flowing in and out of the building.
As Be'larien entered the building, people moved aside to make way for her. Though this likely had less to do with her and everything to do with the tiny Star-Treading Deer sitting on her head. Thelossians were respected and a little feared, but not enough to clear paths at a place like the Arena. Not that Be'larien was complaining.
She made her way over to a desk with a sign saying 'Registration'. Behind the desk was a female Osmilix, a semi-humanoid race that looked like anthropomorphic lizards. Despite advanced AIs and robotics, most receptionist positions still used the 'human' touch.
After managing to tear her gaze from the tiny Hasa, the receptionist turned her eyes to Be'larien and asked, "Will you be registering for VR or the live Arena?" Her voice had a sibilant hiss and was much deeper than most humanoid females.
Be'larien smiled. "The live Arena, please."
The lizard woman nodded and a hologram displaying a contract appeared. "In that event, please mark this waiver indicating that the Arena holds no responsibility in the event of your injury or death."
Be'larien knew this was coming, but read the contract. It was vastly simpler and far less time consuming with her new Thelossian brain. Seeing nothing wrong, she instructed her bracelet to mark it with her citizenship ID. The receptionist nodded.
"Thank you. You may choose from our list of available beasts, or you may select an appropriate Rank and a beast will be chosen randomly."
A new hologram popped up, but Be'larien ignored it, knowing what it would say. "The beast doesn't matter, get me a Rank 5."
The receptionist looked a bit surprised, but didn't say anything. "Understood. A Rank 5 beast will require a deposit of 1200 credits. Please transfer it to the Arena account."
Yet another hologram popped up with a [Waiting for transfer...] display. Using her bracelet, Be'larien transferred the credits. She also took the opportunity to check just how much she had, and her eyes goggled a bit. The character creation had awarded her 10,000 credits, but her current holdings amounted to almost 380 million credits. After some quick referencing, Be'larien discovered this was almost entirely from her reward for the Vilmex incident. Only 10 million was from her pay for 50 years of active service in the Thelossian fleet. And, after careful examination, she saw a small deposit of 10,000 credits that would've come right after she appeared in this world. Holy crap, I'm a millionaire! And character creation is so damned cheap!
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Upon receipt of the monies, the receptionist said, "Thank you. You are currently in slot 17 for Arena 8. Please take the lift on your right down to floor A8. The Arena thanks you for your patronage."
Be'larien nodded to the receptionist and walked to the lift. She could practically feel the receptionist staring at the top of her head as she walked away. Need a hat, try a Star-Treading Deer! You'll be the center of attention wherever you go! Be'larien once again snickered at the thoughts going through her head. Hasa remained unperturbed.
When she stepped off the lift, Be'larien had one thought. F*ck, I'm in Rome! It was an honest-to-god Coliseum, complete with stands full of spectators, metal gates to let in the beasts and the competitors, and even a holographic sky so you wouldn't know you were in a building. And currently in the fighting pit was a semi-humanoid man that seemed made of living granite, a Toor'kügen, going toe to toe with a Vulk'nrbis, basically a three-eyed bear the size of a semi-truck with fur like razor wire. And the giant bear was getting it's sh*t wrecked.
Be'larien had apparently arrived just in time for the end of the show. The Toor'kügen had just used a double-fisted blow to the top of the bear's head, driving it into the floor of the arena. The granite man then jumped into the air and delivered the same double-fisted blow to the back of the bear's skull. There was a thunderous crack, one of the bears eyeballs exploded out of its socket, and the rest of the bears body went limp.
The crowd was on their feet cheering. Apparently the match had been a good one and Be'larien kind of regretted missing most of it. Considering a Vulk'nrbis was a low Rank 7 beast, the fight should have been spectacular. The Toor'kügen didn't even look winded, but then they didn't actually breath. His race was one of the 3 most physically powerful among semi-humanoids, being born in the upper 60s. Unfortunately, the term 'rocks for brains' applied to their entire species, both literally and figuratively. They weren't a race on the intergalactic stage of their own volition. They'd basically been slave troops of a civilization wiped out by the Thelossians during the Great Retribution.
Be'larien made her way to the competitors area and checked the slot number. 16. Looked like she was up next. It must not be a busy day. She walked over to the fight coordinator. It was a male Salnakti.
One of Be'larien eyes twitched when she saw the Salnakti. It wasn't just because it was a male. Bel had always had a dislike for the Salnakti since that first pirate raid, and thanks to the 'Life Story', Bel's issues were now Be'larien's issues. Suck it up, girl. It wasn't real, it wasn't your life, and it's NOT YOUR PROBLEM.
The coordinator looked up at her with a smile, which promptly froze when his eyes went to her head. She almost smiled when she saw one of his own eyelids start to twitch. Without taking his eyes off Hasa he said, "Um, excuse me, but will your- uh, friend be, uhhh-"
Putting the man out of his misery, a thought came from Hasa to both the coordinator and Be'larien. Worry not, I will take no action lest it be required to protect my bonded. Be'larien smiled, and felt Hasa's snort ruffle her hair.
The man seemed shocked for a moment before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them his gaze was directed at Be'larien, with an intensity that made her think he was trying to pretend Hasa wasn't there. "Okay," he said, "Miss Sil'nathiel, you've chosen a random Rank 5 beast as your opponent. Is that correct?"
Be'larien nodded. "That's correct."
"Thank you. When the slot number changes the gate will open. Please proceed into the arena. Should you not enter the arena your deposit will be forfeit. Is that understood?"
"Yes," Be'larien replied. Technically, fighting in the Arena was free. The beasts were paid for by the entrance fee of the spectators. But fighters had to leave a deposit in the event they forfeited their match without fighting. After they fought the deposit would be returned.
"Very well," he said. "The arena should be cleaned in just a few more minutes. Please make any additional preparations you need." With that, the coordinator walked off, still doing his best to pretend Hasa wasn't there.
Be'larien turned toward the gate to wait. Looking at her bracelet, she commanded it to withdraw her Mithrinite Sword. This time the shimmer appeared in the air and just the hilt shifted out of it. Be'larien grabbed it and pulled the rest of the sword out.
The hilt of the sword looked to be wrapped in some kind of black leather and the cross-guard was nothing fancy. But the sword itself looked like it was made of diamond. Mithrinite had nothing to do with the metal Mithril, and was actually a rare mineral the Thelossians had learned to synthesize. It was a Rank 8 material, which meant Adamantium could kiss its ass. Be'larien was actually a little shocked as the information on the sword filled her mind. Hell, I could turn Sup*rm*n into sashimi with this thing!
Of course it didn't matter how good the weapon was if you couldn't hit your target. As evidenced by Bel's run-in with the Elite Vilmex. And while the Thelossians were capable of synthesizing Mithrinite, they couldn't do it in quantities large enough to use as munitions. It was only used in their most advanced armors and as swords issued to officers. Wait a minute. This is an officer-only weapon. Didn't I get this as a 'standard equipment' in character creation?
Before Be'larien could ponder more on the matter the slot number changed to 17 and the gate to the arena floor opened. She took a deep breath and walked out onto the dirt floor of the fighting pit. Normally Be'larien would've worn her helmet first, but with Hasa on her head a helmet not only wasn't possible but would be massively redundant.
There was somewhat of a clamor among the crowd at Be'larien's appearance. While Thelossians were fearsome fighters when necessary, as a race they didn't actually enjoy conflict. As such, a Thelossian in the Arena was a rare sight. She was probably the first in several decades.
Not giving the audience any attention, Be'larien kept her focus on the gate across the arena while the one she entered from closed. When it started to rise, Be'larien smiled. Her armor gave her physical abilities somewhere in the lower 60s, but she'd chosen a Rank 5 beast. That's because this wasn't actually meant to be a fight. It was just stress relief. To her, this beast was just a living punching bag.
When the gate was fully open, her opponent slithered out. That's right, slithered. It was a Pavutki, basically a giant black snake with several rows of hardened spikes along its back and a ridiculously sharp bone blade at the end of its tail. It also spit acidic venom that could melt through solid rock.
Be'larien knew that who she was on Earth would be sh*tting their pants at the sight of this monstrosity. And from that she knew that her personality had suffered a major alteration, whether from the change in her race, the 'Life Story', or both. Still, she only had one thought as she took a battle stance. This is going to be fun!