Iggy quickly adjusted to life on the Chyron.
Three days, give or take, had concluded since he was taken from Novr. Most of his days were spent worrying about his mother. There was no one to look after her now he was gone. How would she pay their rent? How would she get refills for her medication?
He had to get back to her.
The only way that was happening was if he survived the arena on Elysium.
He sighed and continued his journey down one of the various corridors throughout the mazy prison vessel. During his frequent walks, he developed a decent gauge of how things worked inside. Certain areas were off-limits, either because they were only accessible via scanners or because a clique of prisoners claimed it.
Either way, Iggy made it a point to steer clear of places he wasn't welcome.
He opted to walk aimlessly down the halls while occasionally stopping at the cafeteria for his meals. He made sure not to speak to anyone, stare at anyone, or do anything to upset anyone. His goal was to be as invisible as possible. The ship was already full of people being sent to fight for their lives for the entertainment of Elysians; he didn't need to add to their anxieties and pent-up aggression.
Today's particular walk was motivated by his search for the stranger with the rebel tattoo.
He hadn't seen the old man since his first day on the ship. Like a ghost, he had vanished. Perhaps he was laying low too.
Iggy had a knack for finding things that didn't want to be found, though. If the old man was hiding, he'd find him eventually.
His search would have to wait until after breakfast, though. The morning alarm had just gone off, meaning the cafeteria was open for the first meal of the day. If he wanted to get a good seat inside, he needed to get there early.
Iggy turned on his heel and jogged in the direction of the cafeteria.
He arrived a few minutes later. A line had started to form outside the large room. It was spacious like an auditorium, easily able to fit a few hundred people. Metal tables with low benches were placed in rigid rows along the tiled floor. At the front was the food counter. Behind it was the kitchen, manned by androids in black uniforms. Their neon yellow eyes—proof of their ownership by empire—shone brightly as they prepared breakfast for the Chyron's temporary cargo.
Iggy learned that Slavs weren't permitted to work on ships like prison vessels. The Elysian Empire preferred their living workers on the ground or in their palaces.
He had been a Slav since birth. Most of the people residing in empire-owned settlements were technically the property of the Elysian Empire. The status of a Slav wasn't permanent, though. With enough credits, anyone could buy their way out of it.
Iggy could only dream of seeing that many credits.
But if you win the games...
Scowling, he shuffled along with the line inching inside the cafeteria. He did his best not to get his hopes up, but the longer he spent on the ship, the more he couldn't help himself. His dreams and fantasies occasionally got the best of him. At night, he pictured himself standing in the middle of the arena as the crowd chanted his name.
It would only ever be a dream.
Like he told Commander Au Victorus, he wouldn't last a day in there.
Iggy arrived at the front of the food line. An android flashed its perfect teeth at him.
"Good morning, Iggorii Amrada," they chirped. "What can I get you today?"
Rubbing his tired eyes, he squinted at the glowing menu on the glass divider separating him from the rest of the counter. There weren't many options to choose from. It wasn't like they were on a cruise liner. It was a prison vessel after all. The fact that he couldn't digest meat—nor did he want to, as the Arigorii people were notoriously vegan—didn't make things any easier.
He tapped a few of the options on the screen and watched as the android prepared his tray. Seconds later, he was presented with a strange-smelling slop the Hand claimed to be vegetarian. A few small pieces of bread laid and a metal tin of water laid on the outskirts of the porridge. Scrunching his nose, he grumbled out a "thanks" before stepping out of line.
The food wasn't the greatest, but it was better than nothing.
He remembered the many nights he went to bed with his stomach empty on Novr. At least he didn't have to worry about starving while on the Chyron.
With his tray gripped tightly in his hands, he searched for a seat. He lucked out and found a spot in the corner of the cafeteria. It gave him a clear view of all the exits and the other prisoners eating around him but was out of the way enough so that only a few people would notice him.
Perfect.
He sat down and started to eat. The porridge was vegetarian alright. It was also disgusting. He made sure to eat it all, though. Under no circumstances did the Arigorii people waste food, especially if it was given to them by someone else. His mother beat that into his head early.
Despite not being able to grow up alongside his species on Yensari, his parents did their best to instill in him the values of their people. After his father disappeared, it was up to his mother to pass on the knowledge. But after she got sick, she couldn't keep up with his lessons.
Iggy wondered if he'd ever get to return to Yensari. Would he even meet another Arigorii before he eventually perished on Elysium? He took a bite out of his bread. Maybe he'd get lucky and see one at the arena.
Only time would tell.
As he devoured his breakfast, listening in on the various conversations in different languages around him, he felt a chill race down his spine. Someone was watching him. He could feel their eyes boring into the back of his head like lasers from an Elysian soldier's blaster cannon. His fingers tightened around his tin of water. As he brought it to his lips, he carefully turned around in his seat.
He sucked in a breath and turned back around. His entire face went red. Tension seized his muscles as he froze in his chair.
It was the old man.
He was sat alone a few tables away. Every other table was full of inmates—all of them except for his. The tattooed man's weathered face was still like a stagnant pond, his irises darker than the blackest obsidian. They were seared into Iggy's mind, visible even when the boy closed his own eyes. Even if he wanted to, he would never be able to forget them.
Against his better judgment, he stole another glance over his shoulder. The man was gone. Pursing his lips, he rose from his table and searched the large room. His face lit up once he spotted the stranger dropping off his empty tray at the counter near the front of the cafeteria.
Now was his chance.
Iggy grabbed his own tray and headed toward the old man.
He'd never make it there.
As he limped across the cafeteria, his leg still in bad shape, he tripped over the foot of an inmate. He tripped, his tray and water tin flying forward. The tray clattered to the floor, but his water splashed onto a muscular man who had the top half of his jumpsuit pulled down, exposing his scar-riddled skin.
Judging by his features, Iggy figured he was an Andradan like the old man watching him from across the room.
Iggy picked himself up from the ground, his heart beating at lightspeed. He glanced in the direction of the old man. He stood with his chin lifted ever-so-slightly.
"Are you kidding me, kid?" The shirtless man rose from his seat with his face alight with anger. The two inmates sitting on either side of him stood up as well, their piercing glares directed at Iggy.
Gulping, Iggy shrunk under their stares.
"I-I'm sorry," he said. "That was an accident—"
"It better have been."
He tilted his head at the man. Water had soaked his pants, making it appear as if he'd wet himself. A few of the other prisoners chuckled as they spotted the large wet mark on his jumpsuit.
Iggy stifled a laugh.
That was his second mistake.
"Oh, so you think this is funny?"
Straightening up, he shook his head. "No, not at all—"
"We'll see how funny it is when I snap your fucking neck."
The man rushed Iggy with a fork in his hand. He jumped backward, narrowly missing a swipe from the enraged prisoner.
Elysian guards who had been standing by near the entrance rushed toward the scene wielding electrified batons. They pushed the small crowd that had started to form and ordered the two other aliens backing up Iggy's assailant to move away. They reluctantly followed orders.
The man wielding the fork turned on them and bared his teeth. They were sharp like an animal's. Iggy wasn't sure what species he was.
"Stand down, inmate," a guard ordered.
The prisoner snarled. His grip tightened around his makeshift weapon. Iggy watched the scene unfold with wide eyes. As the inmate went to swing at a guard, he was struck on the side with one of the buzzing batons. He dropped to the ground, his entire body shaking as a current flowed through it.
The other guard turned to Iggy.
"Get out of here. Now."
He didn't need to be told twice.
Keeping his head down, he hobbled toward the exit of the cafeteria. As he went, he spotted the old man again. The stranger watched him curiously as he fled the room. Iggy would have to find him again later. He needed to get lost—immediately.
With his heart racing, he fled to the safety of his cell.
#
Iggy spent the rest of the day hiding out in his room. Most of the other inmates dwelled around the lower areas of this part of the ship, either conversing with others, exercising in the courtyard, or roaming about aimlessly like he did most of the time until it was time to sleep.
In the cell next to him, he heard two people speaking. His curiosity eventually got the best of him, as he pressed his ear against the wall to get a better listen.
The conversation was centered around the fiasco in the cafeteria which resulted in Ohr-Tyff Vonnir—otherwise known as Vonn—being hauled away by a pair of guards. No one had seen him for a few hours.
Iggy pressed his ear harder against the cold wall. As an Arigorii, his senses—mostly his hearing and smell—were above average, but the walls of the cells were thicker than the syrup he ate with his cereal.
"Vonn got sent to solitary for the day."
"No way."
"Yeah, man. I heard Jaromik and Krav are gonna go after the kid."
"Poor kid's gonna die before he even gets to the arena."
Iggy resisted the urge to throw up his breakfast. Reeling like a hooked fish, he staggered backward until he hit his bed.
He had been expecting Vonn's companions to come after him, but he secretly hoped they would've let bygones be bygones. to happen but he thought there might have been a slight chance they would have let him be. No such luck. He never had any to begin with.
But of course, he had no such luck. He never had any luck, quite frankly.
Iggy slid a hand down his face.
I had one job: keep a low profile.
Now he had two angry prisoners hunting him down.
Groaning in annoyance, he fell back onto his bed. He stared up at the ceiling, suddenly interested in the dullness above.
It'd be bedtime soon. Once his cell door closed, there wasn't anyone who'd be able to get through. He'd be safe—until morning, at least. Guards would be doing their patrols down the cell blocks as well. If anything did happen, someone would intervene.
He pulled the bronze amulet out of his pocket and released a nervous breath.
Where are you?
It was times like these, when he was alone and afraid, where he realized he deeply and truly needed his father. Iggy spent cycles loathing the man, cursing his name in the dead of the night when his stomach pains kept him up. He scrubbed his mind of all the good memories he had of the man, replacing them with hatred and disdain.
But that was before he knew the truth.
The man was a rebel.
Iggy wasn't sure whether to admire his bravery or condemn his foolish traitorism. No one fought the empire and won. For thousands of years, they controlled both the Inner and Outer Rims; roughly half of the galaxy. They conquered entire planets, reformed whole civilizations, and kept an iron grip on all their subjects. They squashed insurgents under their boots like bugs, crushing any semblance of disobedience.
Yet, he heard what his fellow miners whispered during their rides back into town when they thought no one was listening. Something was brewing in the shadows, bubbling up to the surface. The galaxy was a powder keg. All it took was one flame.
Iggy glanced at his father's amulet. The symbol spinning in the center caught the light coming from the ceiling. Through the gaps in the metal, he noticed a trio of shadows approaching his cell.
He shot up from his bed, his hand hiding behind his back.
"Well, well, well," a gravelly voice said.
Three rather pissed-off inmates stopped just outside his door. Leading the trio was Vonn. He sported a black eye and a few minor bruises. This time, his jumpsuit was pulled up, likely to hide the rest of the injuries gifted to him by the prison guards.
Vonn pointed at his bruised eye. "You see this, you little punk? This is your fault."
Iggy gulped and inched into the corner of his room. He held his hands up upon realizing he cornered himself in. "I-I'm sorry, okay? It was an accident. You didn't have to get so upset—"
"Because of you, I get to go in the first round of the gladiator games," Vonn interrupted. "You know what happens to first-rounders?"
He shook his head, bottom lip quivering.
"They get fucking obliterated." Vonn grinned. "Here. Let me give you a sneak peek." He snapped his fingers. His two lackeys rushed into the room.
The one named Jaromik was the tallest and built like a tank. Veins bulged against the muscles of his long, bulky arms. A light coating of dark blue fur covered his skin. He lurched forward, using his paw-like hand to pin Iggy's neck to the wall.
Krav, who was more amphibian in appearance than his partner, surged forward. He had skin the color of sand and webbing connecting his ears to his head. Grinning maniacally, he delivered a swift punch to Iggy's face.
He yelped. His lip had been split open. Blood spilled down his chin. He felt his stomach curdle at the sight of it dripping onto his white jumpsuit. His head swam as he went limp in Jaromik's hold for a moment.
"Jeez, kid. Can't even take one punch?" Vonn's laugh filled his ears. "Even the children on Galenrad are tougher than you. You won't last a minute in that arena." He reached behind his back and retrieved a fork. The other end of it had been sharpened into a crude blade.
Iggy's mouth went dry as he stared in fear at the weapon. He thrashed and struggled against Jaromik, but he was far too strong. Tears sprung in his eyes as the panic settled in. His throat closed. Vonn approached him, twirling his shiv between his fingers.
"Please," he begged between labored breaths.
Vonn wasn't listening. He pressed his shiv to Iggy's neck, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to make the boy hyperventilate.
He strained against Jaromik's grip, craning his neck away from the shiv. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his skin quickly becoming slick with sweat. Fighting back wasn't working and escaping didn't look likely. So, he tried the next logical thing.
He screamed.
Krav quickly clamped a bony hand over his mouth, stifling his cries. Iggy bit the man's palm before shouting again. He was met with another punch to the face. This time, Krav's fist connected sweetly with his cheek. Stars swam in his vision for a moment.
"We'll make it quick, kid," Vonn said. Just as he went to drag his blade across Iggy's throat, someone at the front of the cell cleared their throat.
Everyone in the room froze, their gazes shifting to the newcomer. Vonn tensed, his brows knit together, and his lips gnarled into a deep frown.
"Get out of here, old man."
Iggy sucked in a breath. It was him. The man with the tattoo.
He stood beneath his doorframe, his expression stoic. Iggy only now realized how well-built the stranger was for an older man. His physique stood out against his prison jumpsuit. He clearly was ready for the arena. A scathing look filled his dark eyes as he glared at the three inmates pinning Iggy to the wall of his own cell.
"This doesn't concern you, Tenn," Vonn said.
So, that's his name.
Iggy wondered what his full Andradan name was.
"Leave. Now," Tenn ordered, his deep voice full of authority. It almost made Iggy want to flee the room and the cell was his.
Krav and Jaromik hurried out of the room like frightened rodents. Wheezing, Iggy was dropped onto his hands and knees, his throat burning as if someone poured liquid fire down his esophagus.
"So much for your backup," he grumbled from the ground.
"Shut up, kid." Vonn stepped away from him, his gaze never leaving Tenn's. "I'm not afraid of you, old man. You may be some hotshot on Galenrad, but on this ship, we're the same. The Seventh Battalion isn't here to save you."
"If anything, you'll need them to save you."
Iggy watched in awe as the stranger held his ground. Not an ounce of fear was present on his stony face. The same couldn't be said for Vonn, despite his faux bravado.
With a yell, the Andradan swung his shiv at Tenn.
The older man slipped out of the way with the grace and poise of a dancer. With one hand behind his back, he used the other to knock the blade out of Vonn's hand. It clattered uselessly to the ground. With his palm, Tenn pushed a surprised Vonn to the floor.
From the ground, Vonn snarled at Tenn. "You'll regret this, old man."
He shrugged nonchalantly. "I already regret everything. What's one more thing?"
Vonn spat at his feet before picking himself up and dashing to the exit. Before leaving, he glanced at Iggy. "You'll get what's coming to you." Then he left.
Silence filled the cell as Tenn stared at the forgotten shiv on the ground. Iggy blinked rapidly, not quite sure about what just happened. Even though his neck still hurt, his chest swelled with gratitude.
He looked up at his savior.
"Thank you."
Tenn grunted out a reply. Then he turned on his heel and left the room.
The Arigorii boy sat in the dark of his cell with a dumbfounded expression on his face. A single question bounced around the walls of his mind.
Why did he do that?
While he didn't have the answer, he did know one thing:
He owed Tenn his life.