I woke to find myself having been stripped, bathed, and shaved at some point while I'd been unconscious. The Collar at the Base of my neck that had the shock prod in it, which had knocked me out on the Slave Ship, was still there, though. Frowning, I sat up on the small cot I had been deposited on and reached back to find that an addition to said collar had been added at some point. Frowning, I tried to feel around for the shape of the thing and discovered it to be an approximately five-inch-long, two-inch-wide, and one-inch-thick block of something conforming to the shape of the back half of the collar.
"They strapped a detpack to the back of your choker. Apparently, you took enough juice to knock out to put down an Ambull. Guess the Bosses didn't want to take any chances, just in case." Came an accented voice from nearby.
I turned and saw a man with striking blue skin and black hair wearing a sort of leather tunic. Frowning, I tried to think of anything that he resembled from my memory, but all I was coming up with was the Chiss from a Completely Different setting. It wasn't even right for reasons beyond that as well, as the Chiss from Star Wars had glowing red eyes, but this guy's eyes were normal except for the black pigmentation of the Iris. I was coming up blank until he smirked at me with perfectly white teeth.
"Never seen a Lazul before, eh? We're not too common in these parts. I got unlucky, same for my sister. We were stuck on a transport from Enclavium in the Galactic South to the Shipyards of Bakka. It was supposed to be doable now that the warp has been calming for the past few decades. It wasn't like we were going across half the galaxy. Unfortunately, doable isn't the same as easy, and we got picked up in a bad warp storm, half the crew got eaten by Warp Beasts before we got spit out somewhere near Yaelis, all the way on the other side of the Galaxy." Informed the Blue Man.
"So what happened?" I questioned.
"What do you think happened? Our transport was dead in the void, and we got picked up by a Slave Cruiser out of Heroldar. Abhumans can fetch a pretty price in the Slave Markets. I had experience working as a Security Force Trooper, so they sent me here. My sister, though, I heard they took her to Topside, but I haven't seen her since we were sold." Sighed the Blue Man.
"Where is here, exactly?" I queried.
"You really are new, huh? This here's the City of Zis. It's not a proper Hive. The Great and Glorious Antipatrid Dynasty isn't that rich. We're more of what you get before something becomes a proper hive. Smaller, slightly less crowded, but still every bit as nasty if you don't watch it. We're on the edge of the Glass Sea of Magna Hammaana, up near the Highlands of Emar Inferior. Bad business, that. We try to escape, and we'll be as good as dead anyway." Explained the Blue Man.
"And why is that?" I asked.
"The Glass Sea's no good. You try going there, and the Glass Dead will get you eventually. They're supposed to be the tortured souls of folks who died in the scouring of Magna Hamaana, back in ancient times, trapped in their corpses, never to pass on. I dunno if I believe that, but the Warp can do strange things. I've even seen some of them with my own eyes, reptilians the size of Groundcars that appear out of nowhere to rip into half the crew of a transport ship before leaving, swimming through the Warp like water. Compared to that sort of thing, I guess Unquiet Dead are hardly novel." Scoffed the Blue Man.
"What about the Highlands you were talking about? Emar Inferior?" I questioned.
"That has a different problem altogether. The Hillfolk that live up there hate the Oligarch Houses with a passion. Some sort of grudge dating back to before anyone can remember. They like to shoot first and ask questions about potential escaped slaves never." Shrugged the Blue Man.
"You said this is a hive, right? Why can't we try escaping to the Underhive?" I queried.
"I said this was sort of a hive. That's not the same thing as a full-on hive. Our Underhive isn't exactly the cavernous sort you'd get over in places like Magna Sidon or Amphipolis Major. It's a lot easier for the Enforcers and Security Forces to sweep through down there than it would be in places like that. Sure, you might evade them for a bit, but them catching up with you's only a matter of time here compared to elsewhere." Retorted the Blue Man.
"Right. I guess I must have misunderstood." I remarked.
"Well, you're gonna want to cut that out fast. We're a Gladiatorial Barracks, and that means you learn fast or you're no good to the Bosses in the Arena, and if you're no good to the Bosses in the Arena, then you're no good to them period. The last new blood who failed to figure that out got sold to Black Bomilcar of the Recycler's Guild, and you don't want to know what it is they recycle." Intoned the Blue Man.
"I think I can guess." I nodded.
"Good, now get your ass up. Mess closes in less than an hour, and you don't want to start training on an empty stomach." Nodded the Blue Man.
"I'm Hannibal, Hannibal Agricola, by the way." I introduced.
"I didn't ask your name, New Blood. You haven't proven you're capable of staying alive long enough for it to matter. For the record, though, I'm Saphrax. Now, your harness is in that locker down there. Put it on in five minutes, or I'm leaving for the Mess without you." Nodded the Blue Man, Saphrax.
Then, Saphrax turned on his heel and stalked out of the barracks room. With that, I got up off the cot that I'd been lying on and made my way over to the footlocker that Saphrax had indicated. Opening the footlocker, I found a similar leather harness. It wasn't exactly much in the way of protection. Just some sort of sleeveless boiled leather vest with a matching pair of boots and a matching loincloth thing. The boots were clearly one-size fits all, but I could adjust the vest and loincloth by using the straps till they fit. After a few minutes, I managed to cinch myself into the Trainee Pit Fighter's Harness and make my way out of the barracks just in time for Saphrax's time limit. The Lazul Gladiator nodded at me as I approached and turned on his heels to begin walking away, expecting me to follow.
"These boots aren't exactly a great fit." I opined.
"Tough, New Blood. You want better ones, you stay alive long enough to claim the boots of a dead man that might fit better. Till then, make do." Smirked Saphrax.
Shrugging, I followed him through the winding corridors. It was just as we emerged onto a more well-traveled throughway that I realized exactly what Saphrax had meant by this not quite being a Hive. There was a section of Armaglass wall that looked out onto the outside of the City. Zis wasn't a Hive City. It was actually a lot closer to something like a Megabuilding from something like Cyberpunk or Judge Dredd. We were still below the cloud cover here, and from what I could see out of the viewport, the Gladiator Barracks were maybe a mile up, if that. Topside, the collection of mansion-sized penthouses that formed the sort of Proto-Spire was maybe another mile or so above us. It was still a long, terminal way down, but this wasn't even close to the ten-mile-tall hives that tended to predominate various worlds.
I'd be shocked if there were more than a few dozen million people in all of Zis. Compared to the one billion people at minimum that lived in a True Hive City, that was nothing. It was still a Hell of a lot more than most cities in my previous life, of course, but given the scale of tech going on in the Galaxy, even as reduced and stagnant as it is, that wasn't exactly a high bar to clear. Still, I could see where the chip on Balthazar Antipatros' Shoulder had come from. That didn't mean he wouldn't still get what was coming to him from me at the earliest opportunity, of course, but I could see where it came from, at least. The asshole must have some sort of Napoleon complex over being stuck with this sort of midget pseudo-hive to rule instead of a true hive city.
Regardless, Saphrax soon led me back into the warren of corridors, and we were soon in the Mess, where a bored-looking Ratling ladled out chemically formulated gruel with chunks of vat-grown meat and misshapen vegetable matter in it. That, plus a crust of bread, was what we got to eat. Apparently, it was all formulated to be perfect for putting on muscle, as the Antipatrids wanted their Gladiators to be stronger than the average. Regardless, I cocked an eyebrow at the Ratling Cook, who stared back at me.
"Is this corpse-starch?" I asked.
"We don't serve that dreck here. It'll keep you going, but it's no good for putting on muscle. We leave that sort of thing for the Menials in the Manufactory, which is where you'll be if you keep asking questions rather than eating." Returned the Cook.
I shrugged at that and refrained from mentioning how the Vat-Grown Meat probably wasn't that much better for putting on muscle than the Corpse-Starch was. Regardless, I took my tray and sat down next to Saphrax, who had taken a seat at a table with three others. Two of them were Baseline Human Men, one large with a ruddy complexion and blonde hair, and the other was wiry with dark hair and bronze-colored skin. The last person at the table, however, was surprisingly a Woman. Not just any woman, either, but one with the batlike ears and milky pale eyes of a Nightsider, to boot.
"What was that about, New Blood? You questioned Bartleby's cooking?" Questioned the Nightsider.
"I didn't mean to offend the man." I frowned.
"You haven't dealt much with Ratlings, have you?" Queried the Large Man.
"No. They weren't that common on any of the worlds I visited." I responded.
"Word of advice, don't talk bad about a Ratling's cooking. You might find they decided to starve you out if you do it more than once." Advised Saphrax.
"That's a thing?" I asked.
"It's happened before. New Blood from closer to Topside that wasn't a slave or menial got picked up by the Enforcers for dealing Tranq to the Menials and sent to pay off his debt to the arena. He mouthed off to Bartleby about his cooking just a few times, but after a while, he stopped getting enough to eat. That caused him to slow down during training, and he was run through by one of the instructors during a training session with live blades." Confirmed the Wiry Man.
"Noted." I nodded.
"Now, as for introductions, you've already met Saphrax, but this giant of a man here is Theodoric, and the Lady with the sharp hearing is Milica. Neither of them is local, but I am. Name's Ghazar of Urbela." Introduced the Wiry Man, gesturing to Saphrax, then the Large Man, then the Nightsider, before gesturing to himself.
"And where's Urbela, exactly?" I questioned.
"Gone. It was attacked by Enforcers from Zis last year. Apparently, it had become a staging point for the Hillfolk to try and raid into the habitable areas between the Highlands and Glass Sea." Answered the Large Man, Theodoric.
"And if you believe that, I have a passage to Topside to sell you." Scoffed Saphrax.
"Lord Antipatros doesn't need an excuse to raid outlying settlements for slaves and resources. He's technically in control of this territory, so he just does whatever he thinks will get him closer to displacing the Magids as rulers of the Amphipolis Minor Hive." Scowled the Nightsider.
"I see. I'm Hannibal, by the way. Hannibal Agricola." I offered, introducing myself.
"Where are you from, Hannibal Agricola?" Queried Theodoric.
"Qetesh. I was a Lieutenant with Hamilcar's Hammerers, a Mercenary Company from Qetesh." I responded.
"A Mercenary, eh? Seen much action?" Asked Milica.
"A little. I fought on Kodan against Orks, on Serk against Rebels, and Tsagualsa against Slavers. That last one didn't go as well as the first two did." I admitted.
"Still, three campaigns aren't bad." Nodded Ghazar.
"Two even sounded successful. Maybe you will survive long enough to be worth something." Huffed Saphrax, approvingly.
"What about you all?" I questioned.
"I'm from Bogdanovic Hive on Gamma Three. It's a tidally locked moon, a sector or so over from here. My folk tended to be prized as Marines for various expeditionary forces. Apparently, you lot don't tend to be able to hear an ambush coming till it's already on top of you. I signed on as a scout with an expedition led by one of those Red Robes into some ruins on a planet not too far from here called Doton. Apparently, he was of the belief that there was something there worthwhile that hadn't been picked clean already. Guess nobody thought to mention that sometimes dead worlds aren't really dead. Fortunately, it was just Pirates. Unfortunately, it was Knife Ear Pirates. Some Bigshot Corsair Prince decided to demand the Red Robe surrender his ship." Scowled Milica.
"I bet that didn't go over well. Those guys hoard tech like there's no tomorrow, and they don't part with it easily." I frowned.
"You have no idea. The Red Robe decided to take us into battle against a Knife Ear Corsair and his four ships with just his own Explorator Vessel and the single Light Cruiser escorting it. We were outnumbered two-to-one, outgunned, outmanned, and outmassed. He still refused to give up. Predictably, we lost. Hard. The Knife Ears kept the ships for themselves and sold those of us who survived to Lord Eshmunazar Attalus of Castrum Kitya on Memlock, who turned around and sold a few of us off to various Lords to cover gambling debts. That's how I wound up here." Nodded Milica.
"As for me, I am from further away. The World of Honorum in the Far North of this Section of the Galaxy. It is not a world that often sees visitors from elsewhere. My people tend to squabble amongst themselves in various tribes, fighting for glory among the mountains. We can scarcely work iron by ourselves, after all. Of course, that made us easy prey for raiders from the stars. My own tribe was set upon by Avian Xeno-Creatures and decimated in a mere day of battle at their claws and the ends of their bladed projectile-staves. Those of us who survived long enough to be captured were sold off to fund the Xeno-Creatures' further expeditions. Those of us who fell in battle were devoured by the things." Scowled Theodoric.
"That sounds rough." I frowned.
And it was, from what it sounded like, Theodoric's homeworld had been raided by Kroot Raiders on one of their interstellar jaunts to keep their species strong. That meant seeing your fallen comrades get their hearts carved out and eaten along with other such things. It sounded like he was a Feral Worlder, too, which meant a Late Antiquity Level of Technology at best. His tribe wouldn't have stood a chance against the Kroot, even with just the Slughtrowers they'd had for rifles before the Tau found them millennia from now.
"You have no idea." Responded Theodoric.
"You already know my story. I was captured in the attack on my hometown near the Highlands last year. Did Saphrax tell you his?" Queried Ghazar.
"I did." Affirmed Saphrax.
"Then you're all caught up." Shrugged Ghazar.
"Sounds like." I agreed.
As soon as I said that, however, a ringing gong sounded out through the mess hall. Bartleby, the Ratling Cook, began to close down his small kitchen area, and I turned to the others, frowning and cocking an eyebrow at them. Theodoric was busy scooping gruel into his mouth, while Saphrax was mopping up the last remnants of his gruel with the small crust of bread he'd been given. Ghazar was busy downing the rest of his cup of Grox Milk. Only Milica answered me.
"We have five minutes. You'd better finish that quick, because when the gong sounds again, we're going to be marched out for practice." She informed.
So I did, focusing on shoveling down the gruel as fast as I could. I just barely finished before the Gong sounded once again, and a group of burly instructors with various implants and much higher-quality gear than the boiled leather harnesses and loincloths we had rushed in, shouting for us all to fall in. I did so, mimicking the others, and soon we were headed out through a series of corridors, down a large utility lift, and into an arena area. Apparently, it was time for training.
And it would wind up being a much less forgiving lesson than talking to the group of veterans I had found. . .
XXXX
AN: All right, so here we have the next chapter. In it, Hannibal meets the others in his small cadre of Gladiators. A lot of this is going to be five-on-five combats, since that's the standard format on Sheol. Of course, there will be other things too, but nobody starts off on those unless they piss off the Oligarchs. These guys are going to be Hannibal's team for the foreseeable future. Whether they get through the arena alive for Hannibal to start his revolt ot not remains to be seen, but they all have reasons to attack the Oligarchs. Some more than others.
At any rate, the next chapter is going to be the first gladiatorial training session with the instructors. Then we'll have an interlude showing how some of the other players elsewhere are faring, mostly on Terra. I'll also have more images out and another character sheet before then as well.
Stay tuned. . .