The connection was hot and jaw-shattering. Jethro felt boiling rocks slam into his low jaw, causing him to stumble wildly to his left, almost falling to the ground from the contact. Scorch finally leaped off his head and landed on his shoulder, shrieking angrily at Durn, who was grinning at his handwork.
Jethro groaned in pain, clutching his throbbing jaw. He worked it gingerly, stretching his mouth to test if anything was broken.
"That's it!" someone yelled from the stands above. "Beat him up! Crush the runt and his stupid lizard!"
Durn grinned wider. "You hear that? I'm going to enjoy kicking your lower Sector ass."
Jethro eyed him through the haze of pain, then sighed theatrically. He sagged his shoulders and raised his silver eyebrows in exaggerated weariness. "I never get the point of the bragging." He gestured loosely at Durn. "You're a Class E, Silver Rank." He pointed a thumb at himself. "I'm only a Class E, Gray Rank. Of course you're supposed to beat me."
