Trajan Fett
Mandalorian Venom
Fett. Mandalorian. No sponsor. In many ways, from the Beskar helmet alone- he need no introduction. Nothing else was well and truly known of Trajan. Nor was it of object importance. That gaze, cast in these colors, meant one thing. It was a visage that had carried respect through the Galaxy, especially these seedy annuls, for generations. Even without the armor, as long as he had the gaze, he felt at ease and comfortable. The Beskar did little to inhibit a well trained user's mobility but in just the armorweave bodyglove beneath, he felt a fluid quickness and a larger 'gas tank' of stamina to draw from.
"You're dealing with a meeeeean Trandoshan, Mando." The pit dog said over the shoulder of the Mando. The raise of his brow was unseen but he glanced back, nodding once.
"For our combatants...in the yellow cage...Tuchanka! A fierce Trandoshan hungry for blood on behalf...of the Black Sun." The announcer spoke, his voice being reverberated and echoed through various different speakers in the establishments accompanied by holoscreens with a quick snap render of the portrait of each combatant. Or at least, Fett's helmeted gaze in his case. Between them, a bar with an accompanying betting line met at the middle bisected by red for the odds on Tuchanka's victory and blue for the odds for Fett with payouts beneath both. At the start of the fight, it favored the Trandoshan if only by a slim margin.
The insert of a credit chit and a selection of the opponent would place the bet, further prying open other parlays of whether either opponent would be knocked unconscious, draw blood or concede.
"And in the blue cage...Fett. A Mandalorian bounty hunter. He better hope he's as good without the Beskar as he is with it!" He said once more, the various patrons cheering for each announcement, less for personal affinity for either and more for the sake of their pocketbooks depending on where they placed the wager. It was an even slice either way, with maybe two or three more spectators taking Fett's line if only for the reason that he was an underdog from the moment the doors swung open and thus, a better payout.
Not that a Mandalorian was ever a bad wager.
The cages dropped into pit, large enough for the two to maneuver with electric barriers erected around the circumference of the venue to prevent either side from slinking away for a moment's respite. The pit's construction forced the melee.
"Combatants...begin!"
His door slid open with a metallic hiss at the same moment Tuchanka's did. Fett stepped out, tilting his head as he eyed up the Trandoshan before he nodded.
He wanted her to make the first move.