Love of Olympia (Olympia Gold)

“Come on, G!” Rey called out, when he saw his captain a step behind the rest of the crew, “I’m sorry, but she’s dead weight!” Galia glanced back to him, then the vulnerable, bewildered girl who’d escaped flaming death by a centimeter of steel. The captain of the Dreamweaver lunged for her most trusted mate, to slap a paper in his hand. He hadn’t seen the look in her amber eyes for years, when she looked at him.

“So was I,” said Galia. She about-faced and sprinted for Deidra.

“Damnit,” Rey muttered. He turned to flee with the crew before their floor panel could combust.

“Hey… what are

you… doing?” Deidra slurred when her captain took shape through her hazy vision. Galia grabbed Deidra by her arms to stand her up, and pull her away from the wall.

“Did I give you the impression, when I rescued you, that I don’t care if you live or die?” she shouted. She shook the frazzle from Deidra’s numb frame. “Don’t you ever try to sacrifice yourself again, you understand? You’re part of my crew now, that means you have value! You don’t tell me to go unless you plan to see me later. Do you understand?” With each throttle, Deidra’s eyes widened. At the actual worry in the heartless captain’s face. At the idea that she had value. Galia was the first to assign her any.

“Yes,” whispered Deidra. Galia shoved her away. A spiked mace whomped down between them. It was a member of the Torrent crew, come to blindside them. It was Galia’s turn to stare, bewildered, when Deidra slammed her shield across the man’s face. He flopped on the ground, twitching. There was no time to finish the man, with the rest of the Torrent closing in around them.

Galia launched one body straight into the air with a rising arc from her baton. Deidra put her shield up to stop a glowing katana from slicing into her captain’s side. She shoved the attacker off balance. Galia flung her. A lit wall panel forced the brawling crowd to shift just before the flame. Galia, Deidra and the Torrent crew were forced into the remnants of the Hammer. With so many bodies in close proximity, every swing or block came with a wince. Not even Galia could protect herself from every angle, all at once. She couldn’t think about how much danger Deidra was in. All she could think was strike, turn, dodge, strike turn. Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw that katana again. It shimmered in the air above the wielder. It was set to slash down, straight in Deidra’s throat.

“De-”

Galia didn’t have time to warn the girl, let alone protect her. Ice and heat warred for control of her heart when she saw the Torrent combatant fling backwards, straight into a fire burst from a nearby wall. A second pulse of visible force kicked one of the Hammer’s aggressors across the Bangbox floor. Galia and Deidra turned to find the last savior they expected - the Terra Eagle with a wave hammer. She slung the sledge in two exosuit-enhanced arms. On her third blast, Galia was sure the strikes weren’t indiscriminate. She was protecting them. More specifically, she was protecting Deidra. The yellow line on her visor collapsed into a dot that focused on her girl.

“We have a winner, folks!” Cybil’s shout stayed the hands of the clashing crowd, and dimmed the glowing panels of the Bangbox. Galia held her breath along with the audience until he went on, “Reymond Donario of the Dreamweaver has reached the center of the Bangbox!” Though relieved, Galia couldn’t bring herself to scream along with the crowd. Not with the remains of the defeated blowing around her shoes.

Chapter Ten: Hard-Fought Lessons

Galia and Deidra sat closer than they realized on the edge of the bottom bunk of their iron-framed bunk bed a few hours later. With its dense mattresses, thick comforters and industrial caged yellow lights, and without the tension of the Bangbox on the horizon, the place was almost charming. The contents of the room weren’t half as interesting to the pair, though, as those of their massive broadcasting screen. Cybil was in the middle of a report on the last round of the Olympia.

“As we know, favorite of the ladies, Rex, was lost in the Bangbox,” he frowned. Everything about the sentence turned Deidra’s stomach. Was lost, he said, like some bloodthirsty bastard in the bleachers hadn’t flipped the switch that killed him, just to see him burn. Just to see her burn, if not for Galia’s shield. He sounded genuinely upset about it, too, like he had a right to mourn Rex or anyone else that died in this sick competition. But then she heard the voice of the devil’s advocate in her mind saying if he wasn’t ready to die, he shouldn’t have entered the Olympia. She could run in those mental circles for hours if she didn’t let it go. “As a result, the rest of his crew has elected to retire from the Olympia early,” Cybil prattled on.

“Hey, you trying to grow a third arm or something?” Galia asked when she noticed how tense Deidra was. She’d balled up her comforter in two white-knuckled fists. “Relax. You’ve got plenty of time to tense up in the ring.” Deidra sucked a crisp breath down her nose and let it out slow, between her lips.

“As all you betters know, the Dreamweaver didn’t start with the highest survival rating, which only dropped after they suffered some damage and picked up an inexperienced new crew member,” Cybil said next. Galia threw a playful jab into Deidra’s arm.

“Look at that! You made the news!” she cheered. Deidra snorted at how genuine the celebration was.

“However…” Cybil surprised them with, “This new member, person of interest, Gold Standard servant Deidra did prove herself a little better than helpless in the Bangbox. After surviving a clash with Rex, she and her new captain made a nice display of holding not one, but two other teams. The Dreamweaver’s own Rey Donario claimed the bonus… things are looking up for this team. If you ask me, their spike in survival rating all the way up to forty-eight is well deserved.”

“Forty-eight, huh?” Deidra mumbled. She never really pictured how the Olympia would look, past the first round. If she had, it certainly wouldn’t have looked like this - her on the news report, the rest of her crew gone.

“Thanks to you. We dropped when we picked you up, but maybe the rest of the crew will shut up about it now,” Galia chuckled. Deidra turned to talk to her, which was all it took to realize how suddenly close they seemed. There were hardly more than a few inches between their noses. A familiarly frustrating wave of heat flared up in Deidra’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Galia. I put your life and all your friends’ lives at ri-”

“Can it,” Galia barked, just loud enough that Deidra did. “They’re my crew first. Now you are, too. That means: no apologies, only improvements. Just do better, alright?”

“Al...alright,” Deidra said. Her lips turned up in a smirk without her notice. It vanished when Galia said:

“You can start by telling me the truth when I ask you this. How do you know the Terra Eagle?”

“I-I-I don’t,” Deidra told her immediately. Galia tilted her head at the conundrum. She’d answered too quickly to be lying. Unless it was a lie Deidra had told herself enough times to believe, herself.

“You’re sure that’s your answer?”

“Yes I’m sure- what the hell do you mean?” Deidra scooted back from the intensity of Galia’s gaze.

“If you don’t know her… it brings up an interesting question. Why did she protect you?” she asked. Now it was Deidra’s turn to cock her head.

“Protect me?” she echoed, “She was just playing the game. Death. Destruction.”

“Sure, killing and destroying anyone who went for you. Trust me, I… I thought you were a goner. There were a few guys around you with the kill in their eyes. Until the Terra Eagle knocked each one of them on their asses. She didn’t bother with anyone else,” said Galia. Deidra’s mouth popped open with a fresh objection, but the more she thought of it, the less she could argue. In that wild mosh, she had been sure any second would be her last, before a stab or bash turned it all black.