Kyara reached the busy orbital docks of Solyn station thirteen days after the solemn ceremony. As Yan had instructed him to appear recklessly confident, Kieran brought the ship in a little sooner than was customary. They stayed on board for two days in anticipation of the public unveiling of Senator Cyran Lek's new arena. They trained, relaxed, and studied their target during this downtime. Lek's public persona was similar to Yan's own: he was a wealthy, gregarious, high-stakes gambler who was also a connoisseur of women. Additionally, he had a lengthy and tainted past as a dishonest politician; many of the accusations against him had been repeatedly dropped before trial under dubious circumstances, indicating widespread bribery of law enforcement. Many viewed the new arena's unveiling as just another of his well-planned PR ploys.
With the obvious intention of creating a spectacle by choosing the first teams to compete, Lek organized a lavish reception for all fighters scheduled to take part in the first tournament. Teams of six were required to form two opposing squads, one for each of the Element. In order to fulfill their necessary roster, Yan planned to use the reception to find and enlist a Life Element fighter he knew.
All five were wearing their best clothes when they eventually disembarked for the reception two days later. In contrast to their formal attire, the ceremonial bandages were still on their left hands. In an attempt to hide his cybernetic right hand, Kieran covered it with a flexible black leather glove, but anyone shaking his hand would be able to tell right away that the limb underneath was mechanical. As a standard precaution, each carried a dagger and a pistol, both of which were carefully hidden under their clothes.
Yan guided them over to Kyara's loading ramp, where five svelte motorcycles were parked. The bikes were racing models, with helmets perched atop the fuel tanks and gloss black finishes. Strong 1000cc hydrogen cell engines pulsed beneath the aerodynamic fairings. They provided the possibility of a quick escape if necessary and were made with style in mind as much as functionality. In order to reduce the center of gravity and improve rider comfort at high speeds, the riding posture necessitated kneeling instead of sitting. Kieran fell in love with the machine right away, and if Yan hadn't stepped in, he probably would have begun disassembling the engine compartment right then and there, smearing himself with grease.
The city's posted speed limit of 150 KPH was easily exceeded as they drove off in formation. They passed the soaring skyline of Solyn at a dizzying speed. Except for areas of immaculate, opulent coastline that were purposefully left undeveloped, the continent below was nearly completely absorbed by a single, expansive megalopolis. The new arena complex was located close to one such coastline, which provided unhindered views of the ocean, and this was their destination on the eastern shore. Situated beneath most of the tall black-glass skyscrapers, the arena was not visible from most parts of the city, but it was clearly visible from the sea.
The building rose six hundred feet in a perfect circle before transforming into a huge, perfectly transparent dome that appeared to be unsupported and had four sizable observation platforms fastened close to its summit. A tangle of zigzagging and spiraling neon lights adorned the exterior walls, which were covered in black stone that had been polished to a mirror sheen. Machines on either side of the main entrances blasted artificial fog with green lasers. Outside, the large parking lot was already crowded with personal hovercrafts and pricey luxury cars. The entire complex could be mistaken for a large, exclusive nightclub from a distance.
Another aspect of Yan's well-planned entrance was the five's synchronized, screeching halt as they roared into the parking lot ten minutes after leaving Kyara. Just now, the sun was starting to set below the horizon. They left their helmets fastened to the bikes and made their way to the main doors, where they joined a crowd of about two hundred people gathered. The majority had the icy, laser-like focus of professional fighters, but there were also more reserved, seemingly well-off people among them, who were probably local dignitaries or donors to the arena project.
The audience moved upward toward the top floor of the arena, which contained a single, uninterrupted viewing gallery for the most affluent guests that was encased in transparent plasti-steel. The arena floor below, now hidden under a thick layer of white silk, could be seen from the gallery's large windows. There were an estimated five million seats waiting for the less powerful spectators beneath the dome. The private top floor box looked like a lavish lounge: big, soft armchairs grouped around low coffee tables; fully stocked wet bars spaced along the outer walls every hundred feet; uniformed waiters moving around in silence carrying trays of appetisers. Footsteps were muffled by thick, deep-pile red carpet, and doorways and bar fronts were embellished with elaborate wood paneling trimmed in gold leaf. The venue was already filled with about a thousand people who were waiting for the formal unveiling, socializing, and drinking.
One of the bars was the team's first destination. After securing their drinks, they located a group of empty armchairs to relax in while they awaited the start of the celebration. Among the mingling group, Kieran, Yan, Nayla, Nora, and Luna were the only ones having meaningful conversations.
Kieran sat cross-legged in an overstuffed armchair and said, "Okay, so we need a Life fighter," "How the hell do we find one suitable?"
"Easy," Yan said with assurance. "One of my old friends from my swift-racing days went on to fight professionally. He's an essential part of life. He can either join us in person or put us in touch with someone who can. (Like ancient Terran horse racing, swift racing was a popular and costly hobby in Yan's wealthy family.)
"How are you certain he's even here?" Leaning against the back of Luna's chair, Nora posed the question.
"In essence, we remain pen pals and stay in contact. He said that he had previously intended to attend this event. Somewhere back on Kyara, I have the communication record archived.
"What's the catch?" Dryly, Nayla interrupted. She knew from experience that Yan's plans almost always had a catch.
Reluctantly, Yan acknowledged, "He served a three-year prison sentence for match-fixing related to his swift-racing career," "I can't entirely vouch for his current reliability."
"Oh, perfect, just what we need!" Nayla responded sharply. "We're operating under a critical government contract, and you propose partnering with someone untrustworthy."
"Do you have a better suggestion?" Yan fired back. Nayla stopped talking.
Luna calmly said, "I would prefer to meet him first," while maintaining a steady gaze. She was said to be able to see right through deceit to the heart of someone's intentions.
"Already arranged," declared Yan. "This reception will be followed by our meeting. Torin Okani is his name. That conversation thread ended when he took a measured sip of his whiskey and water.
Kieran was drinking vodka on the rocks, which he drank like water, when his glass suddenly froze on the way to his lips. Setting the glass down carefully, he abruptly got up from his chair and moved toward the edge of the milling crowd. He tapped the shoulder of a woman who was facing away from them while the others looked on. She turned smoothly, and as soon as she saw Kieran, her eyes brightened. After a quick, tender embrace and some quiet conversation, Kieran ushered her back to their table.
She had shoulder-length black hair, dark, tanned skin, and a slender yet athletic build. She was about five feet six. She was dressed in a matching tank top and a tight-fitting black leather miniskirt. It was Kieran who introduced them. "Hello everyone, this is an old friend of mine, Amelina. This is Nora, Luna, Nayla, and Yan, Amelina. As he spoke, he gestured to each companion, and she gave a courteous nod.
Yan was so enthralled with her that he practically jumped forward to meet her. Only Nayla seemed to notice the unusual intensity in his gaze, which was different from his usual response to attractive women. The others shook hands casually, but Yan took Amelina's hand and kissed it with an unexpected grace that was almost uncharacteristic of him. He then led her to two empty armchairs a short distance from the main group, where they sat for a long time in intense conversation while the rest of the team watched in puzzled silence.
The silence lasted only a moment. The guests were instructed to assemble close to the windows that overlooked the arena when lights inside the observation box flashed. Senator Cyran Lek stepped out onto a walkway twenty feet above the arena floor and walked to a podium in the middle of it. Before he started talking, he made a show of organizing information on a portable reader. He had electronic vocal implants that added to the resonant, synthesized quality of his voice. Lek was dressed in a flowing robe made of reflective black fabric that had been specially coated to make it sparkle in the surrounding light in a dazzling array of hues. He began his speech after idly brushing a few strands of chemically bleached blond hair out of his face.
"To all of you, my respected friends and coworkers, greetings! It is true that we have assembled a remarkable group of people here tonight. Many of you are gladiators, contestants in the most spectacular show ever imagined! You never stop, never rest, and never pause to consider the core of your calling as you relentlessly seek honor for yourselves, your families, and your houses. However, does the game ever get monotonous? Do you sometimes find the never-ending cycle of fighting so boring that you consider giving up?
The silent thought was almost universal among the fighters in the audience: No. If Lek had been able to read minds, the collective denial would have put him to the test. Unaware, he went on, as if he thought he had touched a nerve of common emotion. "I sense that many of you understand this feeling." At that claim, hundreds of eyebrows raised in skepticism. "The next step in combat evolution is beneath me! Freedom from the cliches of traditional arenas awaits you beneath me! Look, my friends, here's the answer! I present the Nova Sphere to you.
The enormous white silk sheets that covered the arena floor were quickly pulled aside by unseen mechanisms just in time. Innocent sparks rained down the arena floor as banks of jets lining the walls exploded. The arena was covered in a dense, swirling mist as fog machines located deep within the building whirred into action. Random green laser beams danced over the dome's interior surfaces. The crowd anxiously awaited the smoke to clear enough to reveal the arena's features.