“Does it understand us?” asked the Harkos warrior. The reptile-like, bipedal creature would have stood a foot taller than the “aquatic ape” had it been standing. It trembled in shock on the cargo bay’s floor, staring wild-eyed at its betters.

“They call themselves, ‘human,’ and it does. We chipped him during transit.” The Harkos scholar’s flowing blue robes were the color of blood. Knowledge was the greatest weapon. They would learn what made human’s bleed. “This one is of their warrior cast. He is trained to overcome other members of his species in unarmed combat, and has intentionally increased his muscle mass by simulating labor. Though he is small, and his systems disproportionately dedicated to fine motor control, he is strong. Their planet is one-point-one standard masses, so he should be formidable, all things being equal.”

“I don’t think so,” laughed the warrior. “It’s delicate. It doesn’t even have scales. Nothing can change that.”

The scholar looked back and forth skeptically between the two warriors. He wasn’t so sure.

***

“Wake up, human.” A lizardman in a yellow jumpsuit prodded Luke in the neck with a six-foot long, flexible reed. Luke stayed frozen on the prison cell’s mat until the prodding turned his fear into irritation. He inched back as he slapped the reed away with his aluminum blanket. The lizardman recoiled as if disgusted.

“Why am I here?” asked Luke. “I’m not anything special.”

“Indeed!” said the lizardman. “That is precisely why you are here. We wish to see what you are made of.” There was unmistakable glee in the voice. While the lizardman gurgled and hissed, its natural voice seemed far away and muffled as if by a noise-cancelling headphone. In its place, a human voice played from a speaker practically inside Luke’s skull. He could feel a prick of pain, deep in both ear canals. “You are going to fight.”

“Huh,” said Luke. Maybe this was like Idiocracy, and they wanted the most average man to do tests on. But in fighting, he wasn’t that average. He’d gone 3-0 at 155 in amateur MMA, and 1-0 at 170. The lizardman had a long, powerful tail that flicked around dangerously, but its neck was flat and had a hollow quality to it when it breathed or talked. It wasn’t built in a sturdy way. This wasn’t an alligator. It was an alien. Maybe he could fuck it up.

The prison cell was much roomier than the one he’d been stuffed in earlier. It was clean, with seamless white surfaces and a cot sticking straight out of the wall. There was even a toilet and sink made of the same material as the floor, and joined with the floor as if it came from a single mold.

“Do you need anything, human?” said the lizardman.

Luke stood up and faced it. “Will we get weapons?”

“Only that which nature gave you, though you seem to be lacking in that.” That was true. The lizardman had a wide mouth, almost like certain dog breeds, and its teeth were sharp. Its thumb came to a hard point, almost like a stick had been whittled into a spear. “You will learn pain from us.”

Luke laughed. He couldn’t help it. It just sounded funny.

“Human, what?”

He laughed harder. This must be a direct translation. Maybe they learned from the internet.

“I heard one of you call me ‘frail.’ I might die fighting, so I only get one chance to impress you. Can you tell me how you fight so I can be ready? If you fought a lot of us, we would learn quickly, so you might as well see my best,” said Luke.

“We turn and whip with our tails to break our opponent’s ability to stand, then latch on with teeth and drive our spikes into the weak places. For example, your lower ribs, your genitals, and your eyes,” said the lizardman. “You will submit quickly from the pain.” It grinned, showing its teeth, and Luke couldn’t help going pale. He did not want any part of that shit, but there was no point in begging. Sometimes there wasn’t any way out but through.

***

A few hours later, the lizardman in the yellow jump suit came back with a pair of guards. The guards wore armor, carried glassy rifles, and were each followed by a spherical drone that, nonetheless, sounded like a little helicopter. There was no way to know what the guards’ weapons could do, but Luke figured the drones were beyond him. And even if he did get a rifle, then what: he was in a random tube-like hallway with ladders on the ceiling. Where would he go? These guys wanted to test him in a fight. Fine. Let’s get to it.

Luke had to admit, there was a spring in his step. He felt strong, really strong, like he’d been cutting weight at the end of fight camp. He was pushing 190 but felt 170. Better even, because he hadn’t actually been on a diet. If he were going to fight, today was a good day. He’d never been more ready.

They walked for minutes, taking three separate elevators, and over a dozen hallways. His decision not to run turned out to be correct. Whatever they were in seemed really big. They arrived in a cavernous room with plastic barrels and crates piled high on all sides. Bay doors lined the far wall like at a warehouse, not too differently than the back room at a Super Target. The panel lighting and dustless surfaces shrunk his own shadow to the space under his feet, giving the seamless room a dreamlike quality. Two dozen lizardmen formed a large circle, and with the prod of a rifle, Luke found himself standing in the middle of it.

The aliens were grinning. Palling around. Joking about eating him. Wondering how such weak creatures like him became dominant. Laughing about how no one wanted to touch his bare, disgusting skin—he was flaking everywhere.

It was starting to piss him off, but he stayed quiet until one of the aliens stepped into the circle to meet him. This one was even bigger—maybe seven feet tall, and wearing a yellow robe with spiked shoulder pads, and gaudy black symbols up the lapels. It took off the robe and handed it to another, reveling a white rash guard with the same lettering.

“Be careful, son!” said one of the lizardmen in the crowd.

“Yes, careful. Don’t let it bite you. They have dirty mouths,” said another.

“He’s going to need a bath. There are little hairs all over its cell.”

Luke’s brow creased with skepticism. These were the aliens planning to torture him. Maybe there was something wrong with his ear implant. Maybe he was just an animal to them. He kept his hands at his sides, his breathing calm, not wanting to give anything away. He’d have to move quickly if he wanted to get a piece before the guards jumped in.

“Now,” said the white rash guard alien, “this one is muscular for its species, but not abnormally so. It is limited in its bite strength, and will not be able to penetrate our scales. These creatures mostly fight with the boney knobs on their hands, and only to cut one another in social displays. They are adept with weapons, but we will cover that another day. Watch as I put theory into practice.” It leaned forward, hunching its back slightly, and stalked toward Luke. Its little eyes were too small to gouge, and its scales armored the ridges above and below. Its teeth were sharp, and it looked terrifying.

Luke raised his hands and stepped back into a fighting stance. He couldn’t help it—his body forcing him into position early.

The lizard spun. Its tail lashed out at Luke’s side, but he caught it on his shin like any kick. The tail was much, much stronger, but much softer than he had expected. It was like being slammed with a pillow. The force sent Luke sliding back several feet, hopping for balance, but it didn’t hurt. Luke’s vision tunnelled in on the lizardman as the sound of crashing waves filled his ears. He’d felt this rush of adrinaline before, in the ring, and knew to relax and breathe. His coach would have told Luke he was doing fine. That his block was strong.

With a hiss, the lizard took a huge step, telegraphing another spin, but Luke stepped in with it, stuffed the tail slap with another shin block, and wrapped his arms around the tail. Its scales gave him something to grip, and holding on was easy.

“Ohhhh!” he shouted like he was sparring, switched his grip to one of its legs, and picked the whole seven-foot monster up into the air. A sharp pain tore through Luke’s side, but he’d expected something. He wasn’t backing down now. With a leap, he inverted in the air and slammed the alien to the floor, crushing it with his shoulder. It was howling and cursing now, jabbing its nasty thumb spikes into Luke’s sides, covering both of them in blood. “Fuck you!” Luke shouted as he dragged the scrambling alien toward him by its arm, pulled it past, and jumped on its back.

The lizardman fell to all fours while Luke’s blood poured around both of them. All the alien could do was whip with its tail, but the heavy thumps landed with too much surface area to do anything, and it was slowing. No stamina. Luke had its back, and it didn’t seem to know what to do about it. Not that he knew what to do with it. He didn’t want to hit an armbar, because it would stab the shit out of him with its other thumb, and he couldn’t lock up a rear naked choke with how wide its neck was. He could put it in a crucifix, but once he started hurting the alien, they might pull him off. Ah, but he had something. Its wide, flat neck would fit in his arms perfectly.

Luke’s awareness of the crowd was coming back. Someone was trying to coach his oppoent–telling him to roll to get his hands back in the fight. It shifted its weight and fell on its side, but Luke rotated to keep his feet to its back and crushed its shoulders down further. The lizardman’s body folded into itself as if it didn’t have ribs, its arms pinned and useless.

Luke shot his forearms across the front and back of its neck, and squeezed them like a pair of scissors. With a hiss, the alien slumped unconscious. Its snout hit the floor with a sloppy click.

A heavy tail struck Luke, sending him rolling. He stood to find a guard pointing its rifle at him. “Enough!”

“The human crushed his throat! Get him to medical!” The aliens moved in a flurry, running for help or trying to assess their leader’s injury.

“Not so fragile,” said Luke. “Am I?” Darkness edged into the sides of his vision, and he took a knee. Felt like being choked out, but it was just all the blood. “Tell your guy he fights like an asshole.”

“Tell him yourself,” said the guard. “You’re going to show me how you did that.”

“The fuck I am—” said Luke as he passed out.