The punch hit me in the gut like a moon crashing into a planet. I felt my ribs compress, the energy of the hit transferring into my organs. Air whooshed out of my lungs, and I arched my back and bounced away from the incoming right cross to the other side of my body.
As I moved back, I threw an overhand punch at the guy’s face. He had overextended himself and couldn’t move back in time. My fist hit square in the center of his face, shattering his nose. Blood exploded, splattering my face and chest, and the other man stumbled back. Pressing the advantage, I charged in and threw back-to-back left and right crosses. They both landed, snapping his head back and forth. I saw his eyes roll in the back of his head as he collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
The crowd roared, throwing their hands up and shaking the fence surrounding the ring. I raised my fists, turning around and shouting in victory as the crowd screamed back at me. My opponent was down hard, head lolling on the ground as his team checked on him. Guilt flickered as I saw his battered face, but I shook it off. We both knew the risks.
Presh approached, a broad smile on his face. I returned it, feeling a surge of pride. He had been like a father to me for the past ten years. Ever since I met him and his crew on the streets of Brarcolyn they’d taken me in, given me a home, shown me a side of the asteroid colonies I’d only heard about. They had made me part of the Subspace Underworld, and it meant everything to me. Being a Breaker meant everything to me.
“That was well done, lad. I think you might’ve knocked him back to the All Father,” Presh said.
“Could be,” I said with pride, “Guy was strong but too slow.”
“Well, you just made us a shipload of units in winnings. Get cleaned up and meet me upstairs. We got other business to discuss.”
I nodded and went into the locker room reserved for fighters. Other men and women were in there, either cleaning up after their fights or getting ready. The fights went on all night long, only stopping when the work chimes sounded or the Overseers broke things up. But since the money started rolling in Presh had kept the Overseer's pockets full with bribes and favors, so it never got raided anymore.
Their little crew had grown in power and influence within the Breakers over the years. Presh had taken his crew from a group of small-time operators to one of the stronger crews on the colonies. I did what I was told. Presh kept me on the safer jobs. Small smash and grabs, picking pockets, watching people, nothing that was too dangerous. But, now that I was hitting the proper age, I knew it was time for me to step up and make a name for myself in the crew beyond the little kid they all knew.
I walked up the stairs and into Presh’s office. The man didn’t spend his money on frivolities like some, but the things he had were nice. The furniture was all made of real wood from Jargun-Ba, not that plastic molded junk made in the colonies. The air in the office was thick with burner smoke and cologne, wafting on the air in clouds of blue-gray. His chair was large and wrapped in genuine leather, with wear marks on the arms and back from the many years he’d used it. I sat opposite him and asked, “What do you need?”
“I got a job for you, something a little different,” Presh steepled his fingers and continued, “You’re coming along, but it’s time you show everyone you’re ready to be a player. Not just some kid I brought off the streets.”
I leaned forward, my curiosity piqued, “I’m ready. You know I am.”
“I know it,” he said, “But you’re the one that has to prove it.”
Presh took a deep drag from his burner, “There’s a trader we bankrolled a while back. He’s been paying us back with a little tax on his shipments. It’s been lucrative for both parties, but now he’s been seen getting in bed with the Overseers.”
“Did he snitch us out?” I asked.
“Not yet,” Presh said, “But a lot of small-timers have mysteriously had their operations shut down and ended shipped off. I put some sniffers out and it seems our man got himself in some trouble. I need you to remind him to stop flapping his tongue to the Overseers before he gets in more trouble than he already is.”
“How much convincing do you think he needs,” I asked, somewhat nervously.
Presh shrugged, “I trust your discretion. Just make sure he’s able to keep sending payments and keeps his mouth shut. Use your head, show him we mean business, but don’t bring unnecessary heat on us.”
I stood up, feeling the weight of his words on my shoulders, “I’ll take care of it.”
“Be sure that you do. Get it done tonight and come back here. We got other matters to tend to,” he said, handing me a piece of paper, “There’s his name and location. Be smart, and be safe.”
When I left I could feel the tension rising in my chest. This was more than knocking off a few shops or fighting in the ring. It was the kind of job that got someone a reputation or at least the start of one. I was going to make Presh proud of me. Show him that I was worth taking in all those years ago.
As I approached the trader’s warehouse I saw him working at his desk through the window. He was older than Presh, with a bald pate and heavy around the belly. I checked the name on the paper and whispered to myself, “Jolo Rez.”
Jolo leaned forward, squinting into the info screen with a frown. I watched him from across the street for several minutes, making sure he was alone before approaching.
I walked in the door, closing and bolting it behind me. Jolo looked up, startled to see someone else, and stood from his desk, “We’re closed. If you need something you can come back during regular hours.”
“I don’t think so, Jolo. We’re going to talk now,” I said, looming closer to him.
He scowled at me but stepped back, “Just who do you think you are? I’m calling the Overseers.”
“I wouldn’t do that. You talking to the Overseers is the reason Presh sent me here.”
“Presh?” he asked, shying away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve got debts, I get it. You got yourself in some trouble. Snitching for the Overseers is a good way to get them to look the other way and get a few units on the side.”
Realizing the ruse was up, Jolo changed tactics, “Listen, I haven’t told them anything about Presh. I just give the Overseers enough to keep them happy.”
I picked up a package and hefted it in my hands, “That’s good, but Presh wants to remind you there are worse things on Brarcolyn than the Overseers.”
“I know, I know!” he exclaimed, backing away.
That’s when I saw the file on his desk, with Black Palace markings. Jolo had been trying to get in front and obscure my view of it. I pushed him back, sending him into shelves on the back wall. I opened the file and browsed through it, recognizing several of the names. I saw Presh’s name highlighted and circled and looked at Jolo coldly.
“I haven’t told them nothing!” he said hurriedly, backing away from me, “They just..”
“Shut up,” I interrupted.
“Please, you don’t understand! I…”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence. I swung the package at his head and hit him in the jaw. The added weight broke the jawbone and sent some of his teeth flying. Jolo collapsed to the ground, trying to crawl away.
I dropped the package and drove the heel of my foot into the back of his knee. Something popped in the joint and Jolo unleashed a garbled scream through broken teeth. Flipping him over, I grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him bodily from the floor. My vision was red, all I could see was the man’s terrified face. This man, this worm, that was trying to get Presh sent away. To get the only family I had taken from me.
I threw Jolo into the chair and grabbed the pointer finger of his left hand. With a quick pull, I bent the finger back, snapping the bone. Jolo cried out again, whimpering and pathetic.
I grabbed his middle finger, “You’re going to stop talking to the Overseers,” I said as I broke the second finger.
Jolo screamed again, pounding on the desk with his fist in pain. I grabbed his ring finger, “You’re going to keep paying us,” I pulled back on the finger, bending it painfully, but not yet snapping the bone, “And you’re going to increase our payments. Otherwise, I’ll be back.”
“Yesh! Yesh! I’ll do it. Jush pleash schtop!” Jolo pleaded. His words were garbled with the broken jaw and missing teeth, but I understood him well enough.
“Then we have an understanding,” I said as I released him. Jolo fell back, cradling his broken fingers to his chest. I jabbed him in the chest with my finger, making sure he looked me in the eyes, “Don’t make me come back.”
He shook his head violently and whimpered.
“Get to the doctor. That was a nasty fall you just took down the stairs,” I said stoically, before turning and leaving the warehouse.
My heart beat against my ribs as I walked back. There was a small voice inside my head horrified at what I’d just done. I shoved it away, burying it under the cold reality. Jolo was a threat. I’d just done what I had to do. Word would get around, and people would take us seriously. They wouldn’t dare cross us.
It had to be done.
I went back to Presh’s office, my head spinning and trying to wipe the blood off my hands. When I walked into his office he was standing at the window, watching Jargun-Ba loom into view. He turned and took in my appearance. I was sweaty, with dried blood on my hands, and pale. He snubbed out his burner and approached me, “How’d it go?”
I swallowed, shoving away my racing thoughts, “He won’t be talking to anyone anytime soon.”
Presh gestured to the blood on my hands, “Is he dead?”
I shook my head, “He fell down some stairs.”
Presh took my meaning, and laid a hand on my shoulder, “Those sorts of things happen. I’m proud of you, Vex.”
My heart swelled and I looked him in the eyes, “I just did what I had to do.”
He smiled, “You always do. You’re a fighter, Vex, through and through. Today, you proved your worth.”
There was a weight to his words. A tone that had a deeper meaning. He drew a knife from his belt and held it in front of me. He sliced the blade across his thumb, drawing a line of blood. He wiped it on my cheeks, one line under each eye. I felt anticipation rise in me. The task I did for him today was more than a job. It had been a test. One to prove myself worthy.
Jargunians didn’t hold many traditions anymore. Not up here on Brarcolyn. But to prove one’s worthiness, to earn your name, was a tradition as old as the dead planet itself.
“What was your name?”
I’d been told the words many times. Knew the right things to say. Still, I stumbled over them as the weight of the moment hit me.
“W-when I was unworthy I was called Vex.”
He nodded, “Who are you now?”
Tradition dictated I take one of my parents' names. I never knew my father. Had never seen his face. I still remember my mother’s name. She was a good woman, strong and tough. But that didn’t feel right either. I looked into Presh’s eyes and knew the right thing for me.
“Now, I am Ka’vex.”
The man who had saved me from the streets, the one who had brought me into the Breakers, smiled broadly. By taking his Jargunian name I’d dedicated myself to him, to his cause. He knew the significance of that.
“Good to finally meet you, Ka’vex.”
My heart swelled as he took my hand and brought me to my feet. My head swam with the events of the night, even as Presh, or Tal’ka, threw an arm around my shoulder.
“We got a lot to celebrate tonight, boy. Let’s get a drink.”
I smiled at him, “The dawn of a new day?” I asked.
“It will be. And when we wake up in it we’re either going to be passed out or still roaring drunk.”
As we walked out together I could feel his pride washing over me. I had proven myself. I am a Breaker, I am Jargunian.
I am Ka’vex.
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