Because I can. Trigger warnings for allusions to rape.
“What’s your name?” 8386071 asked the sweating, trembling young man. An angry red scar was seared on his chest; he’d been recently implanted.
“Coryn,” the man said. “You?”
8386071 shrugged. “No name, just a number. They call me the Scorpion in the arena, but only because my number’s a mouthful to say. Those of us who were born here ain’t got names. Where are you from, Coryn?”
“Ord Mantell.”
8386071 frowned, trying to remember the stories he’d heard from the other slaves. “That’s… er…”
“Bright Jewel system, Mid Rim,” Coryn said. “I was a soldier in the civil war and got sold as a prisoner.”
“Civil war?” 8386071 decided not to tell Coryn he had no idea where any of those places were supposed to be.
“Gods, they really don’t tell you lot anything, do they?” Coryn drew his knees up to his chest, staring out the barred window that opened to the sandy arena outside. The sleeping quarters were vacant; everyone else was training, the dull thud-thud of the wooden practice weapons resonating as they hit their targets.
“Not really, no,” 8386071 said. “It’s… well, I’d be lying if I said it ain’t so bad, but stories I hear from the other gladiators, other places have it loads worse than we do. Just avoid Harkon and his men when they’re in a bad mood, say ‘yessir’ and ‘no sir’, and don’t ask for second helpings, and you should be alright.”
Coryn let out a barking laugh. “Oh, and that’s supposed to make me feel better about having my freedom ripped away from me?”
“Well… no,” 8386071 said slowly, “but—”
“But what? I wouldn’t expect you to understand what it was like,” Coryn said bitterly. “I’m never going to see my family again. I had a little girl, a daughter, my Yalena…” He reached up to wipe his eyes, and 8386071 hesitated before offering him a corner of his blanket. Coryn pressed it to his face, shoulders beginning to shake.
“I’ll help you,” 8386071 said quietly. “We all will.”
“What, escape?”
“Survive.”
Coryn shook his head, setting the blanket aside. “Live as a slave,” he muttered disdainfully.
Footsteps echoed in the hall outside and a strange gleam came into Coryn’s eye.
A key scraped in the lock.
“Or die free!” Coryn yelled, throwing himself at the door.
“CORYN, NO!” 8386071 bolted after him, heart pounding as Coryn plowed through Harkon and Ra’viss, knocking them over. 8386071 leapt over their prone forms. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”
Harkon climbed to his feet and pulled out his detonator.
“CORYN—!”
And then everything went white.
“He’s fading fast.”
“More blood!
“I don’t know if it’s possible to save him, the damage is too—”
“SILENCE! I won’t have my prize gladiator dead because you imbeciles can’t attach a new arm!”
Drifting. Pain. Ringing.
“Why his eye, though? They’re both undamaged.”
“Might as well upgrade him while you’re here.”
“Understood.”
Stabbing. Gouging. Tearing.
Searing. Scorching. Burning.
Nothing.
When he woke up, he was back in the sleeping quarters, and for a moment, he thought it was all a dream, until he realized that this was a different room than the one they normally stayed in, and it was crowded with twice the usual number of people.
“Hey, look, the Scorpion’s awake!” Mako called, and there was a sudden rustle as people turned to look.
8386071 blinked up at them blearily. Something about his vision was off. It was… half red. His body felt heavy. His face itched and his arm felt like it was on fire.
“Are you alright?” Dinah asked anxiously. Worry creased her face. Her voice felt off, tinny, almost, and yet more clear than he’d ever heard before. Sounds were sharper.
8386071 tried to speak, but his voice rasped.
There was a faint splashing noise, and then Jeyla was there, holding a rag to his lips and squeezing water into his mouth. He sucked it down gratefully.
He blinked again. It felt… wrong. Only one eye was blinking. But he could see out of both of them?
“What happened?” 8386071 croaked.
“You know damn well what happened!” Mako snapped. “You idiot, thought you’d chase down the newcomer and what, hold him down? Nearly got yourself killed when he detonated! If you weren’t so injured, I’d beat you myself!”
“That’s enough, Mako,” 427787 snapped.
Mako folded his arms, glaring at 8386071.
“You lost your right arm,” Jeyla said. “And your left eye. I’m not sure what else they had to repair…”
8386071 forced his head to turn. The dull grey metal of his new arm weakly reflected the sunlight and bounced back up in his face. He closed his eyes. Eye. The other one wasn’t so bothered by the glare, and he could feel its vibrations in his skull as he looked sideways with it. He could see worried and angry faces, but that wasn’t all—beating hearts, pulsing arteries, and heaving lungs were now visible, hot red in contrast to the pale redness of the room.
He looked back up at the ceiling. “How long before I’m back in the arena?” he asked. It was the only thing he could think to say in that moment. He’d process what had happened to him later.
“Don’t know, kid,” 427787 said. “You’re already back to good condition from what we heard, but the Master doesn’t want you out in the arena until you’re used to the upgrades. And because of that… well, I’ve got bad news for you.”
8386071’s mouth went dry. “No…”
“The Master’s decided to bump your breeding ahead of schedule,” Mako said. “Since you’re useless in a fight for the moment, he figured he’s going to put you to work in bed.” He laughed. “Have fun, kid. First time always is.”