“Whatever Kriger wants to say about my eye is his business.” Decked out in his fight gear, Coop sat in front of a bustling street in downtown Baltza, protected by a wall of glass sitting in an uncomfortable chair. A lythe and gorgeous flaxian sat across from him, a made-for-broadcast smile on her face, trying to compose herself after he blew off the question. The silence was killing him, Coop forcing himself to elaborate. “We all know Skidz wanted his revenge, and he got part of it. I hope he’s sleeping well knowing his revenge wasn’t good enough and I’m here while he’s not. I’ve still got my eye, too.”

“Reports tell us it’s not 100%, though, is that correct?” she pressed.

“No, of course it’s not.” This isn’t what he wanted to be talking about. Coop tapped his temple to pull up the ocular display from his lens to see if Sam had arrived yet, but nothing. “Skidz is a tough bastard, and he wanted to take my damned eye out. If it was anyone else, he’d have gotten it. So no, it’s not the best it’s ever been, but it’s not completely ruined, either.”

“You’re going to fight Kriger, the most dominant champion the galaxy has ever seen. Perhaps the toughest fighter in the league's history.”

“That can’t be.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he’s not Coop Sabre. He’s some big, jacked up bastard who gets to bully everyone else around. Look at me. I’m just some guy with a barbed wire bat, his jacket and a pair of torn up jeans. When I step out onto those sands? I’m always undersized. I’m the only human being to ever hang out there and dominance or not, that makes me the toughest damned fighter we’ve ever seen, Lirtredd.”

“You certainly seem ready, one has to wonder if Kriger is taking you lightly after—”

“This pathetic excuse for a fighter dares claim anything over me?” A voice boomed across the studio, Kriger bounding in through a massive set of doors with Tuup in tow.

“You’re on next, Champ,” Lirtredd said, attempting to calm him. “Please let me finish conducting this—”

“Isn’t this what they want to see?” Kriger strode across the room with his massive legs making it easy, Tuup trailing behind, comical in comparison. “They want to see this pathetic worm square off against Kriger, the true Champion of the Galaxy! So go on, little man. Show me what you’re made of.”

“This is pathetic.” Coop crossed his arms and glared up at the giant alien, blurred to the side. It was impossible to ignore how fucked his eye was when confronted with the massive alien. “Intergalactic Champion and he can’t even understand the concept of a ‘turn’ that he needs to wait for.”

“Your humor won’t save you from an even swifter defeat on the sands of the arena,” Kriger growled. “I’ll crush you once-and-for all. Then you can whine about that bad eye even more, or perhaps I’ll finish what the weakling Skidz couldn’t do.”

“At least Skidz left a mark,” Coop said. “You, on the other hand? Our fight wasn’t memorable.”

“I destroyed you when you still had your precious weapon, the only tool a weakling like you would need.”

“Don’t know if you’ve heard, but I got a new one.”

“And after I break your back and tear that eye from your skull, I’ll use that bat to smash your eye into the cosmos before I break that one and end this pathetic thing you call a career.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Coop bounced up to his feet, getting as close as he could to Kriger’s face.

The massive alien leaned down, his breath warm on Coop’s face, giving off a stench that had to be experienced to be believed, making Coop retch. Kriger grew angry, reaching back and smashing his massive arm down against the chair Coop had been sitting in, reducing it to splinters and forcing Coop to dodge to the side. The gurgian growled, stabbing his pincers down behind Coop to pin him down, Coop knowing it was vital to stand his ground, not budging or showing a hint of intimidation. With Tuup here, it meant Kriger wasn’t acting alone, and this was trying to stir up some media buzz, Coop needing to do his part. There was no fear, just raw adrenaline pumping through his veins, staring down the being that was the toughest fighter in the galaxy. That much he knew. Kriger was a bully, and the thing that bothered him most was not letting him get into Coop’s head. Standing in quiet defiance was enough to drive him mad.

It was a full two minutes before station security and league officials broke up the stare-down. The poor sat flaxian flustered at the display and arguing with Tuup, who couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. The show had gone off the air and it was just Coop and Kriger amidst a sea of hired muscle attempting to peel them from each other. Coop was pleased with himself for keeping his cool and never laying a finger on Kriger. The same couldn’t be said for the champion. This was the kind of leverage Coop needed before a big fight like this, especially after the crushing loss of the last time. Perhaps his uncle was right. This was going to be different. Different was the word, although he couldn’t see what that would be yet.

“Keep your dog on a leash, Tuup,” Coop shouted over the ruckus.

“I’ll eat you alive, you worm!” Kriger screamed, smashing a table before storming out of the room.

“You better be ready this time,” Tuup said before following him. “Be ready, Sabre.”

“Fuck off, Tuup.” Withholding the urge to spit in public, Coop turned to see Sam’s purple hair bobbing back and forth over the security guards. “Sam? Sam, is that you?”

“Coop!” she shouted.

“Let her through, you dickheads. That’s my manager.”

They parted ways, letting her through. Sam looked tired and worn down, needing to travel from Earth to Belzhur, a journey none of them enjoyed particularly well. Last update he had from Sam was that she felt better, but they needed to talk about something. That last bit left a knot in his stomach, something he was trying to brush aside and focusing on the fight week helped ease whatever nerves he was having about what was going on with Sam. If it was serious, he’d need to be there for her, no question about it. Old Coop would have bailed, but there was zero doubt in his mind he’d do what’s best for her, even if it meant walking out of that room, hopping on a ship and heading back home without even bothering with Kriger.

“You look like shit.” Coop embraced her, regretting the words instantly. “Err, I mean, are you feeling alright? I know that trip sucks.”

“Always were a smooth talker, Coop,” she said. “Don’t ever change.”

“Me? I’m always changing. Are you feeling okay?”

“Better, but um, what happened here? It looks like a bomb went off.”

“Kriger did. Can’t hold his temper to save his life, that asshole,” Coop said. “You’d be proud of me. I didn’t let him get to me.”

“That’s good,” she said.

There was something on her mind, that much was clear. That sinking feeling returned to him, typing his stomach up into a tight knot. This wasn’t what he needed before a big fight, not by a longshot. Life had a way of working out like that, though.

“What’s going through your head right now?” he asked. “You proud of me?”

“Of course, you didn’t take his bait. I’m just... I don’t know, there’s a lot to talk about,” she said. “But it can wait until after the fight. We both know how you get.”

“No way,” he said. “If something’s up, I want to know.”

“You’re fighting Kriger, Coop. It can wait,” she said. “Trust me.”

“Are you sure? You’re the most important thing in the galaxy to me, period. Kriger can go fuck himself for all I care.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” she said. “C’mon, can we go rest for a while? I’m beat.”

“Of course.”

Hand-in-hand, Coop and Sam made their way out of the busted up studio while the flaxian attempted to regain her composure. Although Sam said it was fine, whatever was on her mind still hung there, dangling like a Sword of Damocles, ready to stab him even if she said it could wait. If she wanted to wait, that was her prerogative, though, and pressuring her wouldn’t do any good. All Coop could do now was make sure she was comfortable and keep focused on the fight and that things were okay. She said so. He just had to trust her.