Time inside the tank ended up truncated thanks to needing to be ready to go in short order. As much as the idea of the one night tournament bothered him, the adrenaline still pumped through his veins after decimating the blob and the time in the regen tank allowed him to remain focused. Although he’d debated jacking into the stimnet for the duration, it took every ounce of his self-control to not and remain in that moment. When they fished him out, it felt like he’d been in there for hours, even though it was just twenty minutes. Sam was there to greet him with a fresh charge pack for his new bat and a smirk on her face.

“So?” he asked. “What’d I miss?”

“Your pal Ramirez made quick work of that zondian. Wrapped his chain around his neck, dragged him around a bit, even smashed him into the walls just beneath the stands a bit. Really got the crowd worked up.”

“He’s from Ushinatta,” Coop said. “I think he’ll always be a showman.”

“Yeah, well, you know what that means, right?” Coop knew she was being careful with the approach.

“We’ve gotta fight again.”

“Right. Just... it may be different this time out. Things work differently up here,” she warned.

“I know. Ramirez understands what this means and so do I. I wish we’d been at opposite ends of the bracket, speaking of, how’s it looking?”

“If you’re asking about Skidz...”

“Fucking Skidz.” The idea of fighting Skidz again made him retch. He owed a massive beat down to that asshole, but it seemed too soon, almost like overkill.

“He’s on to the next round and, by the looks of it, the flaxian will be fighting him to see who moves on to the finals.”

“Well, I already know I can handle Skidz. Never fought a flaxian, so that’d be new.” Trying to keep his optimism up was difficult with his anger for Skidz bubbling back to the surface.

“You gotta get through me first,” Ramirez’s voice boomed from behind them.

Standing drenched with a towel wrapped around his waist and one slung over his shoulders was Ramirez, looking fresh and ready to go. Coop had taken far more damage in his fight than Ramirez had, or Ramirez just wasn’t used to using the regen tanks and bailed earlier than he should have. Either way, he knew Ramirez wouldn’t be a pushover. Still, this was his world inside that arena, not Ramirez’s. Ramirez was still playing to the crowd and didn’t understand the importance of swift brutality over showy crowd pleasing. There was a time and a place for both. A one night tournament was hardly the place to stall.

“I heard you battered that poor old zondian pretty badly,” Coop said.

“You bet your ass I did,” Ramirez responded. “Had them eating out of my hand out there while I dragged him to all four corners of that place. Still missed the old squared circle, though. Gotta admit that.”

“Yeah, a wide open arena is a different playing field than the ring. No explosives, either, unless you’ve got your own.”

“That’s fine,” Ramirez said. “The chain’s good enough. I can still put on a show.”

“That you do.” A part of him felt guilty for not chiding Ramirez and explaining he wouldn’t be putting on a show this time. This was about survival and victory. It should be implied.

“Well, guys,” Sam interrupted them. “It looks like you’re up.”

“What happened between Skidz and the flaxian?” Coop asked, a pit forming in his stomach, knowing it would be Skidz.

“Already thinking ahead?” Ramirez said.

“He tore the flaxian's arm off,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Just wrapped herself around his arm and pulled it clean off.”

“What the fuck?” That dumbfounded him in a hurry. He’d known the power of Skidz, tearing his arm off like that was a feat to be in awe of.

“I better get to my mark,” Ramirez said. “Wouldn’t want to fight in my towel.”

“Right.” Taking a deep breath, Coop exhaled and grasped onto his arm. “Hey, bud... I’m not gonna go easy on you out there, just want that clear.”

“Wouldn’t expect it, compadre.”

“Good luck,” Coop said.

“Don’t need it.” Ramirez sauntered off toward his own ready area, leaving Coop and Sam alone to prepare.

“Guess I should get dressed as well, eh?” he asked.

“You know, you don’t owe him anything, right?” Sam said. “I know you feel responsible for this, but he’s an adult and came here on his own.”

“Yeah, I know all that... you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Cooper, do I know you better than anyone else?”

“Yeah... of course you do,” he admitted.

“Then I know what you’re thinking. You didn’t force Tuup to capitalize on that fight and bring him in. It’s a publicity stunt.”

“Leaving that regen tank behind opened the door for it, though,” he said. “How can I not feel guilty about it?”

“So, what? Are you gonna throw the fight?”

“I didn’t think we’d meet this early in the tournament.” There had to be a way to let Ramirez off gently and not destroying him, but they’d met before and Coop knew how strong willed he was. “It’s sort of nice to have another human around, take some of the heat off.”

“Coop, enough.” Sam handed his clothes to him. “You’ve lost before. He’s lost before. It’s part of life. You’ve earned this. Don’t talk yourself into thinking letting this guy win is for the good of anyone. It’s not.”

“Okay, fine.”

Coop exhaled and pulled his clothes on, head swimming.