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The Technician's Fight, Draft 1, CH08
🕑 Added 2025-07-08 13:00:02 +0000 UTCWith a scream of frustration, Jeremy let go of the bar and sat. He couldn’t get his machine to increase the weights until he had to work at
With a scream of frustration, Jeremy let go of the bar and sat. He couldn’t get his machine to increase the weights until he had to work at it. The sensor adjusted everything to maintain his endurance. That was a flaw in the design he never saw coming. He didn’t want to work out for minutes before he felt the strain; he needed it immediately.
He looked to the room’s entrance, hoping to see his stalker. To have someone to chase and force a confrontation with.
He wanted a fight.
With a disgusted snarl at his machine that attracted curious and concerned looks, he left. What he needed was to go to the hunter’s section and find one of them to punch. But his instructor had been clear that he could only go there under her supervision, and that she would only allow his official training to occur.
That left him a gym.
Kelsirian exercised by fighting, so they’d be able to take what he needed to dish out. Hopefully?
His tablet guided him to the closest one, where half the exercise mats were occupied by pairs of Kelsirians, with half those numbers watching.
One of them noticed him, and two approached.
“Technician Jeremy Bradshaw,” the woman said. “Can we assist you?”
He reined in his frustration-fueled anger as much as he could. “I need to work off some anger. I’m hoping someone here is willing to fight with me so—”
“We don’t fight here,” the guy with her said.
It took a few breaths before he trusted himself to answer. “Exercise. That’s a lot like how we fight, back on Earth. I’m having a bad day, and I just need to burn off this anger.”
The man repeated what he said in Kelsirian, and Jeremy realized the woman didn’t understand English. So many people around him did, he forgot there were others on the ship without a reason to learn it.
“I can think of a better way to—” she started.
“He’s an Earther,” the man cut her off. “He’s the captain’s Heart.”
Her expression made it clear she didn’t understand why that mattered, but she didn’t say anything.
He might have punched her if she had.
“I can exercise with you,” she said. “But I don’t do so with claws.” She raised her hands, and he realized she had gloves on. They were open at the palm, but the fingertips were covered.
He looked at his gloved hands, then took them off. It was so natural to wear them now. it was odd not to. He left them with his jacket on a shelf by the mat. The coolness wouldn’t bother him for long.
“If I hit you too hard,” he said, “let me know.” He tried to make his smile pleasant. “I’m really hoping you can take what I need to dish out.”
The guy translated, and she nodded. She came at him too fast to react in time and he gasp from the punch in his side.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think it would hurt you this much.”
“It’s okay. I can take it.”
The man translated, and she looked dubious.
He attacked her, and she blocked. He dodged her attack, and she barely reacted to the punch in her stomach. The block of her return slap staggered him, but as she stepped away, he attacked. He needed to get in the hits more than receive them. That meant not giving her time to catch her breath.
Her defense quickly turned sloppy, but her worry wasn’t overly fearful. His punches weren’t particularly effective.
He caught black, brown, and white out of the corner of his eye. His glance in that direction was interrupted by her shoulder impacting his chest and sending him off his feet. He was certain he’d seen the glaring out of Gralgiran’s friend as it happened, but he hadn’t been able to turn fully.
Good thing, he thought as he caught his breath. If he’d locked eyes with him, the guy would have run again.
“How can you fight so long?” she asked, panting hard.
He could still make him out by the entrance. “Human. We have endurance where you have strength.” He acted up the pain slightly as he groaned. “But that shoulder hits too much for me.” He sat while the guy translated.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you so hard. I just couldn’t—”
“It’s okay. I told you, I can take it. But I think I’m done.” He stood and didn’t look toward the entrance. “Thank you for letting me do this. I feel better.” He put his jacket on and took his tablet. The gym had private exercise rooms. If he had any chance of doing what Gralgiran had suggested, he needed to lure Toomerimortoral into one of them. If nothing else, he’d be able to scream at the guy without anyone else staring.
He walked away from the entrance and hoped his stalker would follow. The first room in the side corridor was available, and Jeremy reserved it. The door was a little further from the turn than he’d like, but he’d make it work. He set this side of the door to open with proximity and pressed himself against the wall.
He wished he could access the cameras and confirm he was still being stalked. The gym was a public space, so it was under surveillance, but he was a civilian, so lacked the authority to access them. Gralgiran had told him how anyone involved with security could review the public feeds.
That implied special permission was needed to look at the private one, which implied the existence of private surveillance. He’d have to ask about that at some point.
A head poked around the corner, and Jeremy grabbed the guy before the fur color registered. He pulled him and flung him through the opening door, satisfied it was the right colors, and followed the guy in. Closing the door with a slap on the control.
“Okay, this had gone on long enough.” He couldn’t lock the door, but so long as he kept him away from the control, they were staying here until this was resolved. The sense he’d gotten of the guy’s physicality was that he wasn’t particularly strong. It probably meant stronger than Jeremy, but hopefully, he didn’t exercise enough to be a good fighter.
He was confident that with the hunter training he’d receive, he could hold out against a Kelsirian who only exercised occasionally.
Toomerimortoral finished searching for another way out and glared at him. “You think I’m scared of you?”
“You’re fucking scared of me enough to not confront me with whatever your problem is.”
“My problem?”
“Hey, I’m not the one spending the last months stalking around and glaring at me instead of throwing me in a room, so I’ll have no choice but to explain myself.”
“No, you’re the one who gets to enjoy a wonderful male. Keep him to himself like you’re Arali Darimis Tokaran on his worse day.”
“I have no idea who that is, and I’m not keeping him from you.”
“Oh, no, you aren’t,” he said in a mocking tone. “You and your monogamy don’t care who Gral spends time with.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You think I don’t know how you force him to be with you and just with you?”
“I’m not forcing him to anything!”
Toomerimortoral snorted. “You think you’re so fucking amazing in his bed no one else gets to enjoy him?”
Outline section
No Outline(sort of)
Addition
Jeremy confronts Toom
This might get added to the previous chapter if I can’t expand it in the second draft.
So, neither characters really cooperated here. I was aiming for the argument between them to turn physical, so that I could hint more strongly as to what’s going to be seen in the next chapter.
Really hoping I can adjust that in the second draft.
Comments
Kindar
I don't think Toom's able to get angry at Gral
Marcwolf
Toom has the right concept.. but his,anger should be at Gral, not Jeremy..
