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The Katánian knifed upright, her eyes flicking over Sana’a as she approached.
The Shotelai woman came to a stop before the counter.
The two women sized each other, both radiating with a dangerous mix of beauty and brawn.
‘You’re seasoned,’ the woman behind the desk stated, giving her assessment.
‘Naam.’ Sana’a didn’t think she needed to say more.
‘How hungry are you?’
‘I could eat.’
They weren’t discussing food.
The woman jerked her chin at Sana’a. ‘We cover room and board and give first-timers twenty-five per cent of takings on their bout. Forty if you win, but that never happens. Plus, we tax xkénos another five per cent.’
Sana’a shrugged. ‘Suits me.’
She didn’t need the money.
As Mirage had promised, the Edenites had transported her kin to their rock.
Her family had been placed in comfortable housing and provided with Eden II’s brand of superior medical care for her mother.
Mirage had also deposited a generous amount of schills into Sana’a’s Sys account, ensuring she was liquid for a long time.
What she earned here, she planned to send to the Seif, the Shotelai’s relocation council. Her mother had set one up for the legions of scattered people she’d once ruled over to rehome them somewhere safe.
One problem, one oath, one slay, one fate at a time.
The woman lifted her chin. ‘I’m the vik?i on duty. The front-of-house welcome party. Your identikit.’
Sana’a flicked over her credentials. The woman’s brow rose.
‘A Sys-ID. Not many of those in these parts.’
Refugees throughout Pegasi had the choice to sign up for a galaxy-wide identity that hid their true heritage in case of reprisal.
Sana’a’s was a real one linked to a forged birth cert and a locked box address on Rhesia.
The vik?i went on, raking her eyes over Sana’a. ‘You going to cause me any trouble?’
‘Nada. Just here to try my luck.’
Her new companion raised a feathered brow. ‘You’ve either got the balls or musta done something shady to be seeking our fight halls. We only attract the most desperate, ballsy or overconfident xkénos. For our kavaliers always win.’
Sana’a shrugged. ‘Remains to be seen.’
The woman’s lips twitched. ‘Gutsy. But we need cocky fighters to keep feeding the crowds’ ravenousness for more bouts and bets.’
‘Not a hardship. ‘Specially in a venue like this.’
The vik?i took a fresh look at her surroundings, at the view of the arena gaming floor through the tiny office’s glass windows. ‘Indeed. The place has been themed on the luxury and decadence of the Empire at its height. The design features statues, columns, and iconography across the history of the great Katánian Realm. Its emperors, kings and notable politicians. As well as the most prominent of its fight masters and sab?r koya kavaliers, the rock stars of ancient and present Katáne. Not a bad place to bout.’
The Shotelai woman cocked an amused brow. ‘Thanks for the tour.’
The woman rose from the desk and crossed to Sana’a, hands extended. ‘My pleasure. I need to frisk you down for hidden weapons. We have a strict policy on the use of external arms. We don’t allow them; any we find are stored until you leave the íkhara. Before I begin, anything to declare?’
