Mum-O-Killowe barked out something unintelligible.
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“Shizzle, what does he want?” Hokor asked the blue-suited Creterakian.
Shizzle swooped down, his silver bells tinkling in time with each flap. “The great Mum-O-Killowe wants to know when he can begin to hit the Human Quentin Barnes.”
Quentin’s eyes widened with surprise. This giant Ki wanted to tear his head off.
“Tell him to shut up,” Hokor said. “And tell him he’ll only be told once.”
Shizzle relayed the command, then Mum-O-Killowe turned and strode towards Quentin, roaring sounds that rang obscene despite the language barrier.
Quentin turned to face him and crouched, mind instantly switching to game mode, looking for the best place to hit the 580-pound, 6-legged, 4-armed nightmare. The nursery rhyme said to go for its back, but he didn’t see a way around the long, muscular arms.
Quentin barely saw movement before the two Quyth Warriors were on Mum-O-Killowe. They both jabbed him with their staffs, resulting in a loud crackling sound and flickers of blue-white light. Mum-O-Killowe roared in pain. He turned and grabbed for the Quyth Warrior wearing the Krakens’ jersey, but the smaller creature danced back, effortlessly avoiding the wild grab, then jabbed the stun-stick into Mum-O-Killowe’s chest. Mum-O-Killowe sagged, then fell to the ground, a twelve-foot-long motionless blob.
The rookies stood in silence. The smell of ozone filled Quentin’s nostrils. The Quyth Warriors each grabbed one of Mum-O-Killowe arms and labored to drag him into the shuttle.
“Normally, we’d kick him off the team,” Hokor said, “but we’re short on defensive linemen and the season is only a week away. We’re not, however, short on wide receivers, running backs, or quarterbacks.”
Hokor walked down the blue line until he stood in front of Quentin. “Kneel down, Human, I want to look you in the eye.”
Quentin quickly looked at Yassoud, who nodded nervously. Quentin got on one knee, and still had to lean down to look straight into Hokor’s one big eye. He’d never seen a Quyth Leader — or any other alien, for that matter — this close up. Hokor’s eye wasn’t really clear, but a translucent light blue, filled with hundreds of green discs in a tight geometrical pattern. His fur was thick, each strand much thicker than a Human hair. The most disturbing physical aspect was the pedipalps, quivering things on either side of the mouth, as coordinated and well-developed as a Human arm. Quentin kept his cool, but it surprised him to feel the grip of a lifetime of Purist Nation teachings. Most of his people would be screaming right now, either with pure terror or righteous, murderous rage. He mostly viewed those people with contempt, so it shocked Quentin that he felt both emotions stirring up from somewhere so deep in his subconscious he hadn’t even known they existed.
But Quentin was on a mission. And his pure, unstoppable desire to play football at the highest levels ran far stronger than programmed ideology.
“As soon as practice starts, nobody is going to be there to stop him,” Hokor said. “You had better be ready to complete the offensive play when three of those things are coming at you, hoping to maim you, or if they get in a good shot just kill you outright.”
Quentin smiled. “Just give me the ball, Coach.”
Hokor’s antennae quivered once, then fell flat. “We’ll see, rookie.” He walked to the airlock door. “Krakens rookies, come aboard.”
DAN: Welcome back, sports fans, Dan Gianni here with Akbar Smith and our own football-legend-in-residence, Tarat the Smasher.
TARAT: Thanks, Dan.
DAN: So what are we going to talk about today?
AKBAR: As if there’s any question.
DAN: Baseball season is almost over, and to tell you the truth, with four player strikes in the past ten seasons, I really don’t think anyone gives a damn. It’s so boring!
AKBAR: I still like baseball.
DAN: Like I said, no one gives a damn. Intergalactic Soccer Association season is coming up, but that’s a little boring as well.
TARAT: Good sport, but the Sklorno have completely taken it over.
AKBAR: There are 1,012 players in that league, and all of them are Sklorno.
DAN: You can’t fight speed, not in soccer. But we all know one sport that caters to all species, and that’s only one week away.
TARAT: Nothing like finishing up Tier One football and rolling right into Tier Two.
DAN: That’s right, sports fans, we’re talking Tier Two football. The Jupiter Jacks captured the Tier One crown last week, with a thrilling 21–20 Galaxy Bowl win over the To Pirates. Don’t the rookies arrive in camp today?
AKBAR: That’s right, Dan. You know how I hate this system — the rookies only have one week in camp before the first game.
TARAT: But there is no way around that.
DAN: I know there’s no way around it, but it still sucks. I mean, some of these guys were playing in championship games only a few days ago!
TARAT: Trust me, not one of them is complaining.
DAN: Sure, no argument there, but take Quentin Barnes, for example, the quarterback of the Micovi Raiders of the PNFL. I mean he played the PNFL championship only a week ago, and in seven days he’ll line up for his first Tier Two game with the Ionath Krakens. That’s crazy!
AKBAR: What makes you think he’ll play a down? He’ll ride the bench for the first half of the season like most of the rookies.
DAN: You think? The Krakens have to get someone at quarterback who can win games.
AKBAR: Were you dropped on your head repeatedly as a child? Have you ever heard of the Krakens’ quarterback, some guy named Donald Pine?
DAN: He’s all washed up. He can’t win the big games.
AKBAR: He won two Galaxy Bowls!
DAN: Ancient history. He has choked in every big game in the past two seasons for the Krakens.
AKBAR: And you think some rookie is the answer?
DAN: Probably not, we all know quarterbacks from the Purist Nation don’t last. But Barnes probably doesn’t have to do much to be better than Donald Pine is right now.
AKBAR: You’ve got to be kidding me.
DAN: Look at the games, will ya? Last year the Krakens went 6–3 and missed the playoffs with a week-nine loss to Orbiting Death. Pine throws four interceptions. He gets pulled, and the number-two quarterback, Tre Peterson, dies four plays later. Pine goes back in and throws another interception.
AKBAR: Okay so that’s one game.
DAN: What about two seasons ago? Krakens kill eventual league champ Sala Intrigue 48–24. But they drop four games to teams with a combined record of 13–23. All of those games were upsets — Pine couldn’t win the games he’s supposed to win.