That night, Iggy couldn't sleep. He couldn't blame the stiff cot beneath him, though, it certainly didn't help. A tornado of thoughts and worries swirled around his psyche. It raged on, preventing him from even closing his eyes for longer than a few seconds. If he did, the thoughts transformed into vivid images that gripped him tighter than a hug from his mother. He would've killed for one of those at that moment...
He thought about her and his father. He thought about Tenn and the late Finn. He thought about the next challenge waiting for him in the arena. He thought about it all.
Rolling onto his side, he urged his mind to be quiet. It didn't listen. With a sigh, he glanced at the door. He thought about going out into the halls again. It wouldn't be aimless exploring again. Jaxon Gunn told him to meet him in the supply closet; he promised to tell Iggy everything about his mission.
But could he trust the spy?
Iggy wouldn't have been surprised if nothing was in that supply closet besides mops and buckets. Shaking his head, he turned away from the door. Tenn's words about the rebellion replayed in his ears. The old man said they weren't much better than the empire. What did that mean exactly?
For cycles, he grew up despising the empire and everything it stood for. Yet, he never fathomed defying them. Never did he think about joining the rebel cause. But his father did. Countless others throughout the galaxy—like Jaxon—did too. They couldn't all be terrible beings like the Elysians.
Perhaps that wasn't the truth either. He'd only ever met a couple of them. And one of them may or may not have saved his life. Had it not been for Commander Emerik au Victorus, he'd be on his way to a prison instead of fighting in the Elysian Games. Whether or not that was a good thing had yet to be determined. But the commander showed him mercy.
Or maybe it wasn't mercy at all.
Iggy thought back to the High Priestess. Despite only speaking to her for a few minutes, he knew she wasn't like the other Elysians. But she was set to be married to the emperor. Things weren't as black and white as he once thought.
The empire might've been an oppressive force, but it withheld the order that kept the dozens of systems throughout their controlled space in a state of peace. No major wars occurred on any of their planets for hundreds of cycles. Iggy might've been a poor Hand on Novr, but he knew his life on Yensari was much better than the desert world. The empire controlled Yensari, too.
The au Decimus family—those overseeing the desert planet and its mines—might've failed Novr. Still, there were other planets that had received help from the empire's galaxy-renowned technological advancements. There was Azphadel, an Inner Rim planet that recently overcame a great famine with the help of Elysian-sponsored agriculture equipment. Pegasai—a tropical planet frequently ravaged by hurricanes and typhoons—only remained inhabitable because of the empire's assistance. Countless other worlds depended on the Elysian Empire for their very existence.
What had the rebels done for the galaxy? What would they do?
Iggy sighed into the night. He might not have known the answer to any of those questions, but he knew one thing: Tenn was right. He didn't need to get involved with the rebellion—especially not now. The best thing he could do for himself was keep his head down and try his best to survive.
That's all anyone could hope to do.
He closed his eyes, silently hoping sleep would take hold of him soon. But it never did. Instead, someone else had. A set of strong hands gripped his shoulders. A million, tiny shocks went through his body, which had stiffened as if he'd been frozen in carbonite*.
Before he could scream, one of the hands clamped over his mouth. Eyes bulging, he thrashed against their hold. When that didn't work, his feral instincts took over. He bit their palm, prompting a hushed curse from his assailant.
With his heart pounding, he scrambled out of bed and tumbled to the floor. His shaggy black hair fell into his eyes as he peered at the man rubbing their bitten hand. Iggy let out a sigh of relief once he recognized them through the darkness.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed.
Jaxon cradled his hand. "Why the hell did you bite me, you maniac?"
"You tried to kidnap me!"
"Don't be dramatic. No one was kidnapping you, kid. I was just trying to make sure you didn't make any noise."
"There were other ways to do that."
"Yeah, yeah."
After getting to his feet, Iggy shook his head at the man. His anxiety subsided but was quickly replaced by curiosity. He looked the rebel up and down. He no longer wore the white uniform of an empire-owned servant. His new outfit consisted of dark leather pants, a black shirt, and a navy-blue pilot's jacket adorned with colored patches and a fluffy collar.
"What're you doing here?" Iggy asked.
"You were supposed to meet me in the supply closet."
He blinked. "Wait, you were serious about that?"
"Jaxon Gunn always keeps his word."
Iggy rolled his eyes. "Why would you come all the way back just to tell me, some random tribute, your plan? Isn't that kinda counterproductive to the whole 'spy' thing?"
"It is. But then I had a revelation." He grinned at the Arigorii. "Maybe we can help each other."
"Help...each other?"
"That's what I said, didn't I? Jeez, kid, keep up."
He squinted at the blue-eyed man. What game was he playing? How could he possibly help him with whatever he and his fellow rebels had planned? And vice-versa; how could Jaxon help Iggy in any meaningful way?
"Unless you can help me escape this arena and get back to my mother, I don't think you can help me."
"Your mother, huh?"
Iggy nodded. "Yeah, she's sick. She needs me to help pay for her medication. If I don't get back to her soon, she'll die."
Jaxon's eyes lit up. "Now, I can't help you escape. But I can help you with that other thing. I know a few smugglers. My boy Pavlo can get a shipment of whatever medicine you need to your mom. The bastard owes me a favor too. Might as well cash in on it now."
Iggy bristled. Every ounce of common sense he possessed told him not to trust Jaxon or this offer.
"Why would you do that for me?"
"Like I said, kid, we can help each other."
He folded his arms. "How could I possibly help you?"
"I told you I'd explain all that." Jaxon motioned toward the door with his chin. "But not here."
"What? No, I'm not leaving—"
"Listen, do you want to help your mom or what? You're not getting out of this hellhole anytime soon, so unless you can jump through space and time, you might want to listen to what I have to say."
Iggy's shoulders deflated. He, in fact, could not jump through space or time. He could barely throw something across a room. Grumbling, he frowned at the rebel. Tenn's words were starting to make a lot more sense now. He'd just told Jaxon about his mother's predicament and the man was already using it to his advantage.
The rebels would do anything to reach their goals.
But wasn't he the same? He'd cheated the games twice now. How was that any different from what Jaxon was doing?
Plus, he was right; he wouldn't be leaving the arena anytime soon. His mother needed help now. She wouldn't be able to wait for him to maybe survive the arena. If Jaxon really could help him, he'd be a fool to decline.
"What's it gonna be, Iggy?"
He glanced at Tenn's sleeping figure. The man hadn't moved at all throughout the duration of their hushed conversation. His feet suddenly felt like cinderblocks. The old man told him not to get involved. He warned him.
Iggy wanted to take his advice. But he couldn't. Not this time.
Facing Jaxon, he nodded, his head hanging in defeat. The rebel's grin widened.
"I knew you'd make the right decision." Jaxon moved to the door. "Now, follow me."
#
Jaxon promised to have them back in the arena before the sun came up.
Iggy didn't know how they were going to sneak out of the stadium, but apparently, the rebel had his ways. As they navigated through the halls, he explained how he'd been infiltrating the arena for the past week now. Security around the entire place was top-notch—guards scoured the grounds around the clock. Cameras were placed everywhere, and most entrances could only be unlocked by authorized personnel.
None of that seemed to matter to Jaxon. He'd managed to hack into the arena's system, which allowed him to temporarily disengage all locks for a brief period. Iggy deduced it was his meddling that allowed the sleeping hall's door to be unlocked at night.
Jaxon still hadn't explained what his goal was, though.
Once they made it out of the arena via the ventilation system, which dumped them out into an abandoned docking area in the back, Jaxon led them into an alley. Iggy followed with caution, his head moving like an owl's as he moved into the backstreet. Bright lights from the various buildings rising into the night sky poured down on Neon City. Noise from the buzzing advertisement boards and screens filled the air. The sidewalks outside were still populated with people at this hour.
While it might've been the dead of night, Neon City didn't seem to get the memo.
Iggy hung back in the shadows while his new companion approached a tarp-covered object deeper into the alley. Jaxon yanked the covering off, revealing a blue-painted Skimmer with gold finishings. Iggy marveled at the vehicle from his spot in the darkness.
Woah...
"What're doing back there?" Jaxon asked.
Iggy froze up, his attention focused on the people just a few yards away. No one had seen them yet—or perhaps they had and just didn't care. Jaxon would've been able to blend in with them, but not Iggy. He still wore his clothes from the arena. The moment he stepped into the open, he'd be recognized.
"I can't go out there like this."
Jaxon nodded. "Hmm, you're right. I didn't really think about that." He slipped out of his jacket and tossed it to the younger boy. "Here. Wear that."
Iggy examined the material before pulling it on his arms. A rich, earthy smell arose from the heavy garment. The black leather was authentic, unlike the synthetic clothes he wore back on Novr. The desert's sandstorms weren't very conducive to nice clothing. But Jaxon's jacket belonged in a museum. Every patch was stitched perfectly, not a thread out of place. The silver buttons and zipper were in pristine condition.
"It was my grandad's," Jaxon explained while mounting the Skimmer.
"He was a pilot too?"
"Torin Gunn. One of the best to ever do it. They called him Ballista." Jaxon smiled proudly. "He taught me how to fly."
Perhaps there was some validity to his "best pilot in the galaxy" claim. Iggy had yet to see the man fly anything, though.
"Get on," the rebel said while patting the seat behind him. "We're going for a ride."
With the man's jacket covering his arena clothes, he got onto the back of the Skimmer. He reluctantly placed his arms around Jaxon's waist. The engine rumbled to life, sending vibrations throughout his body. The skimmer lifted a few inches off the ground before tearing out of the alley and onto the street outside. Gritting his teeth, Iggy grabbed two fistfuls of Jaxon's shirt to keep from flying away.
They skirted around other vehicles on the streets, earning a few honks and curses as they sped past. The wind clawed at Iggy's face every time he lifted his head to get a better look at Elysium's eleventh district.
Neon City was a sprawling canvas of metal behemoths of all shapes and sizes, blinding lights, and colorful characters. Even at this time of night, the city was teeming with life. Mostly Elysians populated the sidewalks, but a few other species were present among them as well. Iggy couldn't imagine what the place must've looked like during the day.
He wondered if he'd ever get to see it.
"Where are we going?!" he yelled over the rushing air ten minutes into their drive.
Jaxon ignored him. He banked hard to the right, taking them off the main road and merging into a thinner lane that led deeper into the city. Bridges stretched from skyscraper to skyscraper, creating a complicated network of metal above their heads. Neon lights strobed through the darkness, illuminating the night with their vibrant glow. From the street, Iggy could see aircraft zipping overhead. They traversed the upper levels of the city, the ground beneath them nothing more than an afterthought.
He glanced over his shoulder. He spotted the arena looming in the distance. It felt like a tether had been attached to his back. If he got too far, he feared it yank him right back into the stadium.
Had anyone noticed he left yet? No one woke up when Jaxon entered the room, so he figured he was safe for a few more hours. But once those lights turned on in the morning and he wasn't there, he'd be done for. His stomach twisted at the thought.
Jaxon better have kept his promise.
Eventually, the man guided the Skimmer off the road and onto the sidewalk. They'd arrived in front of an array of closed storefronts with blinking signs in the shuttered windows. Jaxon dismounted the vehicle and headed toward the corner of the street.
Iggy followed behind; his head swarmed with questions.
"Where are we going?"
"Relax."
They turned the corner and headed down another alley. It was more of a crawl space, as Iggy's not-so-broad shoulders nearly touched the walls of the buildings on either side of him. Luminescent graffiti stained one of the walls while faded posters decorated the other. Jaxon stopped in front of a black poster and knocked on it. Then he stepped back. Nothing happened.
Iggy cocked his head at him.
"Give it a second, kid."
A moment later, a door appeared behind the poster. It popped out with a gust of air before swinging inward. A stout man even shorter than Iggy stood beneath the doorframe. A thick mustache covered most of his grubby face. He scowled at Jaxon.
"Whaddya want?"
"My friend and I here are seeking refuge from the rain."
Iggy sent Jaxon a perplexed glance. Rain? There wasn't a single cloud in the sky.
Mr. Mustache grumbled something under his breath before stepping aside. Jaxon flashed the doorman a smile before waving Iggy inside. With a shake of his head, he followed the rebel through the doorway.
The doorman closed the door behind them, entrapping them in the black tunnel they walked down. Mr. Mustache pushed between Iggy and Jaxon before leading them into a dimly lit bar.
"Plenty of refuge in here," their guide said before disappearing down the hallway again.
Iggy turned to Jaxon with his brows knit together. "What is this place?"
"A safe haven."
He sauntered over to the bar counter and took a seat on a stool. Iggy cautiously joined him while taking in the sights of the room.
A thick haze lingered in the air, a byproduct of those smoking out of pipes and other instruments throughout the hidden bar. Multiple stains—some old, some new—coated the metal floor. Iggy nearly slipped out of his shoes after stepping into a dark liquid with a smell strong enough to make his head hurt.
Shady-looking individuals were gathered around tables filled with drinks. Pushed toward the side of the bar were four circular platforms glowing with neon. Sultry women danced to the music blaring through worn-out speakers placed throughout the place. He caught the eye of a dancer and shuddered in the weight of their soulless stare. An android. Clenching his jaw, he averted his attention to the main bar.
"Nice place," he grumbled.
"This is a PleasureGarden. Owned by Bori Jervis and his crew." Jaxon flicked his eyes about before setting them forward. "They're friends of the Alliance. It's one of the only places I can hide in on this stupid planet."
"They couldn't make it any nicer? There's literally asbestos hanging from the ceiling."
"It's part of the charm, kid."
Iggy rolled his eyes.
The pair of them took up two cushioned stools in front of the counter. Glass shelves filled with bottles of various shapes and sizes were built into the wall behind it. A blinking hologram with the name of the bar flashed behind the counter. A reptilian individual moseyed over to them, their slit eyes blinking through the low light. They hissed at Jaxon, the sound harsh in Iggy's ears.
"I'll take a Red Flying Duchess," he said in reply. The bartender hissed at Iggy.
"Er, I don't speak...whatever that is."
"He'll have what I'm having," Jaxon said. Their host nodded before consulting the wide array of beverages and machines behind them. While they got to work on the drinks, the rebel turned to Iggy. "So, you wanted to know what my mission is."
He nodded, his wide eyes still trained on their scaly bartender mixing their drinks in a strange-look canister.
"Let me start with some background first. I work for the Axarian Alliance. We operate out the Axaris Systems, away from Elysian governance. We've got plenty of spies inside empire lines, though." Once the bartender returned with two metal cups full of a scarlet liquid, Jaxon gave them a two-finger salute and downed it in one go. He let out a blech as his face twisted for a moment. "Jeez, that's a good drink."
Iggy frowned at the cup sitting in front of him. "I don't drink."
"Nonsense."
"I'm serious."
Shrugging, Jaxon took his cup. "Suit yourself."
Iggy shook his head in awe at the man. "So, you're from the Axaris Systems."
"Correct. I'm from Junzar, but our headquarters are in Xonaru. A few months ago, we came up with an idea to finally make some progress with the whole 'overthrowing the empire' thing."
"What's the idea?"
"I'm getting there, kid. Don't interrupt."
Iggy rolled his eyes before gesturing for the man to continue.
"Anyways, once we heard about the new format for the Elysian Games, we decided it was best our plan involved them somehow. I've been tasked with scouting the arena for exit routes, weak points in security, and a detailed analysis of the general area."
Exit routes?
"What for?"
Jaxon smiled. "We're gonna steal us a Noblus. An important one."
"Let me get this straight. You're going to steal a Noblus?"
He facepalmed. "Jeez, kid, do you have to repeat everything I say?"
"A Noblus is a person, you do know that right? You can't just steal one."
"Sure, we can." Jaxon waved him off. "Besides, what do you know?"
Clearly, nothing.
"So, who is it you're kidnapping?"
Jaxon dropped his gaze to the bar counter, his fingers drumming against the glossy material. "Er, we haven't really...figured that part out yet. They're all heavily guarded, and they rarely come out of Sector Two—especially after what happened."
Another mention of the incident in Sector Two.
"What happened there?"
"A counsel building was bombed. A bunch of people died."
Iggy opened his mouth but never got to ask his question.
"It wasn't us if that's what you were going to ask."
"I mean, you're planning on kidnapping someone so..."
Jaxon scoffed. "Yeah, but we're not going to kill them. Well, unless we have to."
He shook his head at the rebel. Tenn was right. Even if Jaxon and the Axarian Alliance weren't behind the bombing, they were still planning something egregious. If it was one thing the twelve Noblus families of the Elysian Empire cared about other than money, power, and status, it was themselves. Taking one of them hostage wouldn't go over well with any of them. They'd scour the entire galaxy to find one of their own.
"I should've never left the arena," Iggy grumbled.
"Look, someone has to do something," Jaxon countered.
"And kidnapping a Noblus is the best you could come up with?"
"It's better than sitting on our asses and waiting for the empire to finish conquering the galaxy."
Iggy furrowed his brow. "What?"
"You haven't heard? The Elysian Empire is planning to expand into the Caecillian Traverse. After that, they'll set their sights on the Axaris Systems. They bloody bastards would try and conquer The Void if they could. If they manage to conquer all three major systems in the galaxy, no one'll be able to stop them."
They wouldn't do that. They couldn't.
"The empire might have its flaws, but what's the alternative? You get rid of the order within the galaxy and the entire thing will erupt in flames."
"It's already burning, kid."
Iggy paused. The words bounced around his head like a pinball.
"So, what? You pour more gasoline? We need water."
Jaxon kissed his teeth before turning his head away from the boy. "You don't get it. How could you?" He sighed. "Someone like you would never go against the empire."
Someone like me.
Iggy's lip twitched. Tenn had said something similar. He didn't like it then, and he didn't like it now. They didn't know him at all. He'd known Tenn for two weeks. Jaxon less than that. Yet, they spoke like they knew him. They didn't know him at all. They thought he was weak. Spineless. Afraid to stand up to the authority that was the empire.
Were they right?
He glanced down at his reflection on the countertop. Scowling, he lifted his gaze toward the rebel.
"What do you need my help with?"
Jaxon nearly fell out of his seat. "You're serious?"
"Yes, I'm serious. I'll help you with your dumb plan. What do you need me to do?"
After asking him four times whether he was sure or not, Jaxon finally answered. "I haven't been able to explore the entire arena. Certain rooms are secured by the keycards the guards carry around. If you could get me one of those, it'd make setting everything up for my crew a whole lot easier."
Iggy contemplated the request. Getting close to a guard would be hard enough. Stealing one of their keycards without getting caught seemed impossible. But he'd do it. Not because he cared about Jaxon, or the Axarian Alliance, or any of that. He was doing it for his mother and the medicine she needed to survive.
A tiny part of him also wanted to prove to Jaxon he wasn't as weak as he thought. He could be brave. He could be strong.
"Alright. I'll get you a keycard."
"I need it by tomorrow."
Iggy blanched. "Tomorrow?"
"I'm on a tight schedule here, Iggy. Can you do it?"
He went quiet. Could he? That didn't matter. He'd have to do it if he wanted to help his mother. Facing the man, he nodded.
"You sure about this, kid?"
"I'll get you that keycard. As long as you keep up your end of the bargain."
"I already told you, kid. Jaxon Gunn always keeps his word."
He stuck out his hand. Iggy shook it. The pair locked eyes for a few moments, silently analyzing each other for a slip in resolve. He couldn't find one. Perhaps the rebel could be trusted after all. Or perhaps he was an insanely capable liar. Either way, the deal had been sealed.
One keycard in exchange for a supply drop of medicine for his mother. A fair trade, all things considered.
"C'mon," Jaxon said as he stood up from the bar. "Let's bounce."
He headed for the same dark tunnel they entered through. Iggy thanked their bartender—for whatever reason, he wasn't sure, as he hadn't drunk anything—and awkwardly shuffled behind his companion. They skirted past Mr. Mustache and stepped out into the alleyway.
Clouds gathered overhead in the dark sky. A few droplets of rain fell from the atmosphere. They hit his skin, the cool sensation helping to ease his nerves. A breath left his lips as he stared up at the crying sky.
Jaxon was right.
The empire was a powder keg with an ignition stem centimeters away from setting the whole thing ablaze.
All it needed was a match.