After an upset like that, Regis set up a training camp on Luna. Right back to the start and all that. The key difference beside the change-of-scenery was Regis had to bend and allow Coop to bring Sam along, not that he had much of a choice in the matter. They flew public, and Coop expected the usual deluge of fans and interactions, but it was nothing. Just a commuter trip where he caught a few sidelong glances, that’s it.

“I can’t believe I’m back at this shithole,” Cooper remarked, staring at the training center’s doors. The massive dome protruded up and toward the surface, independent from the rest of the colony to allow them to mess with the atmospheric makeup of the training center more readily. What hurt the most was these were the pretenders, in Coop’s eyes. The wannabes.

A bulky, red-faced man in a pair of white shorts and an embroidered “Camp LUNA” polo sauntered out and extended his hand. Regis greeted him with an uncharacteristically warm smile, the two men sharing an embrace and a few words in private, Coop and Sam trailing behind. They exchanged glances, Sam knowing how much he hated the Luna facility and all the trainers and students associated with it. She’d made it clear she thought this entire endeavor was rash, that it would be more damaging than good for him. Retreading on the Skidz fight made very little sense at this point in his career, that much he agreed with, but there was money to be made and it had been months since their last encounter.

“Coop, my boy, you remember Coach Lumiere.” Regis reached his arm out between the two men, a figurative olive branch after their last encounter, and Coop mangled his star pupil’s arm to teach him a lesson.

“Oh, I remember,” Cooper nodded at the man.

“Bygones and all that,” the coach said. “We’re happy to have you here and we’re very impressed with your uncle’s prudent business decision.”

“What business decision?” Sam asked from behind Coop.

“Yeah, what is he talking about, Regis?” Coop turned to his diminutive, scheming uncle.

“Look, kid, no offense or anything, but if the money train’s about to stop, I’ve gotta invest in the future to make sure I’m still in on the action.”

“Exactly,” the coach said. “Your uncle has made a generous donation to the facility and the team, and we are happy to welcome him on as a partner.”

“Partner?” Cooper scoffed. “Of these assholes?”

“Like I said, kid. I’m in this for the long haul. Not everyone can be a Coop Sabre, but they can’t all be duds.”

His stomach churned. It shouldn’t feel like a betrayal, but it does. Without Coop, his uncle would still be dealing in junk at his stall in the slums. Yeah, the bastard could sell a power converter to a cyclist or a beaten up old jet rider to old folk with a walker, but there was no end game in that. No way out. Using his uncle’s complete lack of ethics to get better fights and more money had worked well for him, until now, it seems, and his focus has shifted elsewhere. All the signs were pointing toward failure, just after one loss at the highest stage.

“Figures,” Sam snarked.

“You know what?” Regis turned to her. “You’re lucky to even be here. This is Sabre business, none of yours.”

“Fuck you, slimeball. Who was with Coop every damned day he was in that tank while you were off securing your legacy?” Sam stood in front of Coop, getting right in his uncle’s face. “Some of us actually give a shit about him.”

“Ladies, please,” Cooper said, wanting to diffuse the situation. “I’ve got Skidz in four weeks and my docs say I need at least eight. This ain’t where I want to be, but I gotta take what I can get.”

“Fine,” Sam gripped his hand, Coop returning it.

They’d gotten closer since all of this went down and the world seemingly either forgot about him, or turned their back on him. What had been a good relationship had grown stronger, something Coop learned was his own fault for letting Regis keep her at arm’s length. Never making that mistake again.

“Well then,” the coach clapped his hands together. “We actually have a present for you, Coop.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, come on inside.” The coach led them into the pressurization chamber, where they all stood for an awkward moment before the cycle ran and the hiss hatched, before leading them further into the training center. “That last fight was a doozy. We were all rooting for you here. I’ll tell you that much. They all might be disappointed with you, calling you washed up or a bum—“

“What?” Coop interjected.

“—but here? You’re a damned legend. Them allowing Kriger to smash your bat like that was a damned travesty. So I had a new one built specially for you.”

“A new what?” he asked, apprehensive of this whole horse and pony show.

“This.” The coach motioned with an awkward dramatic wave of his hands toward a display case on a table, an aluminum bat resting on it like a trophy.

“A metal bat?” he asked.

“I know it’s not the same, but—“

“It’s better!” Regis interjected. “Buddy, I gave them the go-ahead on this. This one won’t get stuck in any asshole’s skull this time, and it packs a bigger charge. You gotta see it.”

“Your uncle’s right,” the coach said, beaming with pride. “The metal conducts electricity much better than the wood ever could with those barbs on it. This will really be something, especially in your capable hands. Here, take it for a whirl.”

It felt light in his hands, the rubber grip still fresh and alien-feeling to him. On it were a series of buttons, Cooper giving the bat a few test swings and noting how off the balance was compared to Guy. The buttons gave him pause, right by where his thumb rested, he worried about accidentally pressing them and not having the same level of control.

“Go ahead, turn ‘er on and give it a whirl.” Coach licked his chops, turning a deeper shade of red, almost purple. “Just stand back everyone.”

After everyone gave Coop a wide berth, he pressed the button, power surging through the bat, enough to make it quiver in his hand. The vibration took a few moments for him to adjust to. A cursory swing made lightning crackle from the bat, creating an arc that trailed behind it. Pressing the second button made the lightning travel along the metal shaft like a force field, ready to latch onto anything in the vicinity.

“Does it explode?” he asked, still unsure what to think about it.

“You won’t need it,” the coach said. “That’ll zap anything it comes into contact with.

“Yeah, but... is that approved?” Sam asked, as apprehensive as Cooper.

“We worked with the league on what voltages they allowed,” Regis beamed. “Ain’t she a beaut, Coop?”

“I guess.”

“Well then, let’s stop wasting time and get this training started.” Regis clapped his hands together, shooting an apprehensive smile to the coach.

Coop powered down the bat, still unsure how his uncle decided this was a good idea or a suitable replacement for Guy. The balance was off, the style was different, the knot in his stomach grew and everything inside of him was screaming at him to stop, walk out the fucking door and never look back. Get Sam and get the fuck out of there. Never had he felt so unsure about fighting. Still, taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, toward the training hall with his hunk of metal they called a bat in hand, into the unknown.