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The hoop is within throwing distance, Pollom is down, his other Back is limping pathetically, the Wildcards are brawling midfield, and the opposing Fronts are trapped behind their line on the other side of the arena, flinging myst in spears that melt the second they hit my solaris shield.
A group of women in the stands scream and push each other as I jog past, pointing at me with admiration. I give them my best smile.
The flare burns hot now. Too hot.
Shit.
I take a few steps and chuck the flare into the hoop, lit by only a few final embers.
The flare zings through the middle of the hoop, and a whistle blows.
“SCORE BY CAPTAIN LEAF!” Pictor announces.
The crowd screams, and I do a little spin with my arms wide, taking in the full stadium of people chanting my name while simultaneously ignoring the pain all over my body. In a moment, the team will go in the locker room, drink our energy repairants, and start anew.
The giant projection above the stadium scans my team’s victorious faces, ending with me. I wave. Got to give the fans what they want.
The projection pans out, and… what the fuck?
The bottom half of my Solarball uniform is missing. Burned away on my side and back, exposing my ass like a diaper flap left open. I tuck my hands behind my back, attempting to hide myself. Little patches of pink brighten my cheeks as the projection zooms in on my reaction.
Pictor narrates as my life flashes before my eyes. “Oh dear, cover your eyes ladies and gentleman, we have a wardrobe malfunction. Though, I have to say, I don’t hate the view. Toned legs, nice muscle definition—ouch—sorry Commander.” Pictor clears his throat. “Right, then, please draw your eyes to the Goad Squad for our halftime entertainment as the teams recharge before the second half of the game.”
Wind licks my balls as I run to the tunnel that leads to the hive locker rooms.
20
The Goad Squad
The first thing I see when the projection swings toward us is Leaf’s bare ass the size of a small moon hovering over the stadium.
The second thing I see is Akemi trying not to choke on her own laughter.
“By the sun,” she wheezes, gripping my arm. “He’s going to combust.”
“Shame he didn’t combust five minutes earlier,” I mutter, arms folded tightly over my chest. “Would’ve saved us the view.”
Above us, Pictor’s voice booms something about drawing attention to the Goad Squad while teams recharge. The projection mercifully snaps away from what’s left of Leaf’s exposed dignity and lands on us instead.
Spotlight. Heat. Expectation.
I hate it.
Akemi is already glowing. Literally. Gold light threads through her long brown hair like she’s been personally blessed by daylight. Her wristband stones flicker in anticipation, hungry for release.
Mine sit cool against my throat—two smooth Source stones set into the black choker hugging my skin. I thumb at one absently. It hums, answering.
“Ready?” Akemi breathes.
“No.”
She grins anyway.
Music detonates across the arena in a drumming rhythm Akemi insisted was “just like the sound ancient warriors of the Old World heard before they went into battle.” I didn’t end up fighting her on it.
The field below still smells like burned fabric and ego as we fan out across the sideline in formation. Short skirts, combat boots, painted eyes, and wicked smiles.
The Goad Squad.
