Welcome to Dropkick 2/2

A woman with blond hair and almond skin is adjusting an environmental control box near the painting. She spins and gives me a “Hello,” but turns away again and hurries off.

“One of my athletes?” I say.

Lev puts on what I assume is a grin, but looks more like mild indigestion. “Ezebel. She must not want to meet her new boss without backup.” He flips a file symbol into the air in front of me. “Here’s your athlete roster.”

I touch it open and cycle through it, scanning the faces that arise in the air at my gestures. “Good crop?”

“Might be the best. We’ve recruited off-world extensively. Baatar, Kert, Modriz, Portuganda—”

I’m surprised at both Kert and Portuganda. “Which dictators did you pay off?”

Lev gives a neutral smile. “Ambassador Drake Ekard has been handling offworld recruiting for us. He has his...persuasions.”

“That’s a lot of time and effort to make those voyages,” I say. “This all worth it?”

“Yes. More than worth it.”