XI. Showdown
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In the Arena, Brian Mayhew watched as the body of his latest opponent was dragged away, blood still seeping from his eye socket. He hadn’t even caught the man’s name, he realised with a slight pang of shame.
His legs were unsteady and his body swayed from the combined effects of thirst, exhaustion and blood loss. Mayhew really, really wanted to sit down in the sand, if only for a little while. But he couldn’t, for as soon as the guards had dragged the latest corpse out, the next opponent would enter.
Maybe he should just give up. Maybe he should just lie down in the sand and let the next guy, whoever he was, have the kill and the victory.
But that wasn’t who he was. Mayhew was still a soldier of the Republic, still an officer of the Special Commando Forces. He was
