Free Son of Justice by Steven L. Hawk

his staff, Crimsa released his hold on the staff slightly. The release caused the staff to slip away from the man until, with a well-practiced grasp that Eli couldn’t help but admire, the weapon was caught in his right hand. And that hand directed the staff in a well-timed strike aimed at Eli’s head.
    Eli stopped the spin of his staff a fraction of a second before Crimsa’s blow landed and dropped. From his crouched position, he heard the other man’s staff whistle over his head as his momentum continued to carry his toward Eli. Eli twisted his crouched body to the left and whipped his own weapon around, completing a full, counter-clockwise spin. As he intended, the staff caught the other man behind the knees, and Eli put all of his strength into the sweep. The force of the blow ran up both his arms, but Eli pushed through, completing the maneuver. A grunted whoosh of air left Crimsa’s lungs as he slammed heavily to the dirt on his back.
    The match was over, and like a blanket being lifted, the world outside the ring came back into focus for Eli. He heard several comments and a scattering of shouts from the recruits manning the ring. Eli glanced at Brek saw the expected scowl. He could almost hear the growl that probably accompanied it. He put the Minith sergeant out of his mind and rushed to his fallen opponent, who was trying to push himself from the ground.
    “Hold up, Crimsa,” Eli instructed as he reached down to help the other man to his knees. “Are you okay?”
    “Thought I . . . had you.” Crimsa struggled to his feet with Eli’s help.
    “Yeah. You almost did,” Eli replied. “I suppose I got lucky.”
    Crimsa turned his head, fixed his eyes on Eli, and shook his head. “Don’t even try that with me, Jayson. I’ve been in enough matches to know luck when I see it. And skill.”
    “Well, we can discuss it later.” Eli spied Adrienne at the ring and, with a tip of his head, called her over. She trotted into the ring at once.
    “This one’s yours, I believe?”
    She dropped her eyes to the ground and offered a slight nod. She then gripped Crimsa’s right arm and led him slowly from the ring. She looked back at Eli briefly as she led her fellow recruit away, and Eli thought there may have been a hint of recognition in her eyes. He wondered briefly if his anonymity was still intact, then filed it away for later consideration. If so, there was nothing he could do about it, but he made a mental note to speak with her soon. If she really did know who he was, perhaps she could be convinced to keep it to herself.
    Eli turned to face Brek again and noticed that he had been joined by Sergeant Twigg. The two were quietly conversing, and as Eli watched, seemed to come to a conclusion. Twigg approached the ring and passed through the line of recruits. Most of his peers still held the aliens in a type of fearful dread, and they moved quickly aside to make way for the sergeant’s bulk.
    Twigg closed the distance quickly and stopped directly in front of Eli. Eli had to crane his head upward to look into the sergeant’s eyes, a situation that Twigg had no doubt created on purpose. The need to intimidate and threaten, especially by a supposed superior to an inferior, was as natural to a Minith as sleeping was to a human. Eli refused to be cowed, though, and returned the sergeant’s stare.
    “Sergeant Brek says that you fight well enough. For a human.” Twigg kept his voice low, his words meant only for the two of them. Eli chose to ignore the “for a human” comment. He didn’t know what response was expected, so merely waited for the Minith to continue. “Perhaps you’d like more . . . serious competition?”
    Eli was intrigued but suspicious. “What did you have in mind, Sergeant?”
    The Minith’s lip curled, and his ears flattened slightly. He was enjoying this.
    “I haven’t sparred with the staff in a very long time. Perhaps you would like to meet me in the ring?” Eli’s internal alarms