Immoral Kombat

[Connor Harrison]

South Territory Shanty Town
Tatooine, Tatoo System​

A handful of the Sanctum knew where Connor Harrison was – he always liked to keep his whereabouts quiet on assignments. Picking up from activity that was spreading across the galaxy, a group of the Order had tracked a dirty and dangerous operation based out of Tatooine that had claimed a couple of their Padawans.

Underground fighting and drug running.

It wasn’t Sith Lords or planetary invasion, but something just as sinister in Connor’s eyes and just what he wanted to try and eradicate. Jedi didn’t just repel Sith; they repelled those who prayed on the innocent, the weak, the vulnerable.

The Mara Corridor had taken him straight to the Outer Rim world, a perfect out-of-the-way place for smugglers, pilots, entertainers, low-life’s and everyone else trying to make their way and stay out of the spotlight.

A few well-placed credits and questions directed him to the Southern Territories and the shanty town that was a good few stories high, surrounded by wind breakers and the occasional armed grunt. It was a seedy section of the planet and one where many went in, and few came out – or if they did, it was minus credits, dignity or limbs. There were many beings still around, Jawas and Rodians and a few human pilots - scum never slept. The worrying thing was, as the Jedi looked around at the settlement, was that people lived and worked here; raising families surrounded by corruption and slavery all for those who could afford to buy it.

Trying to keep his appearance minimal, Connor just wore his navy tunic, sleeves rolled up and brown belts crossing over his midriff. The lightsaber he deemed too precious to lose was safe in his quarters on Voss so if things turned nasty, he’d have to improvise. His cuts on his eyebrow and jaw were healing, and he looked more presentable but still a little rough around the edges, which suited him fine – the less clean and crisp Jedi like, the better.

He was here to hopefully put a hydro spanner in the works; ruffle a few feathers and take out any big players spreading this money-making scam across the systems. Gently pushing past the crowds, he headed into the larger arena in the heart of the settlement to get a look at what underground fighting was really like, and who were the ones pulling the strings.

[member="Irikah Zana"]

 

[Aidan Moonrunner]

As her fist slammed into another challenger's face, spraying blood onto her filthy arm, a thought occurred to her. She wasn't sure how long she had been on the run. She remembered fleeing Coruscant, and remembered how angry her keeper had been, but she couldn't quite remember all the steps from Coruscant to Tatooine. Had she taken a shuttle? Stowed away on a cruise? Or had she payed a smuggler to take her? Irikah couldn't quite remember, the glitterstim gradually erasing her memories, shrouding her mind in a dense fog from which she had little chance of escaping or seeing through.
The challenger fell, screaming as he held his broken jaw. Was that the fifth? No, it was the eighth. Or maybe the fourteenth. She panted for breath as she tried to remember, one eye halfway closed from swelling, her body covered in both fresh and dried blood. The young woman didn't know how much was hers.
However she had arrived on Tatooine, once she had, she was going through glitterstim withdrawal. Bad. She was so desperate for the spice, in fact, that she entered herself in the local arena, fighting any who tried her in exchange for glitterstim and a place to pass out every night, even if it was a cot in a supply closet. It was the best deal she'd had in years.
The latest challenger was dragged off, leaving a blood trail in the sand behind him. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she felt the high flow through her. The drug allowed her to feel the surface thoughts and emotions of those around her, and right now, she was feeling adoration and glee, as well as bloodlust. It fueled her, gave her purpose, made her want to feel more. She was aware of her addiction becoming worse, aware of the Darkness lingering inside of her, but she didn't especially care. All that mattered was right then, that moment. And at that moment, a Rhodian was removing his shirt, preparing to engage her.
Typical. They were always so confident.
With a deep sigh, she launched herself into the fighting, vaguely aware of a new presence entering the arena, her mind reaching out to touch his, curious, as she delivered a roundhouse kick with her bare foot to the side of the Rhodian's head.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor strained to see the commotion further down under the protective roofing in the shanty town; the arena. Nothing like the old arena's of Geonosis or Typhon; this was more like a circular cage. Patrons cheered and whistled around the outside, waving drinks, credits, betting slips, drugs...god knows what else.

He flinched to avoid a few drops of ale here and there, an over-excited arm or two, and leant over to a patron a bit further back from the spectacle going on before them.

"What's this all about?"

"The little queen is on FIRE TONIGHT!" An excited Zabrack didn't hold back, eyes not tearing away from the fight.

Connor raised his eyes a little and focused on the figure moving with power and purpose, and could swear she locked eyes with him through everyone else. Her opponent didn't see what hit him next, and Connor turned with a shake of the head as the crack of bone could be heard seconds before the cheers. What a classy place this was.

The fighter was sensitive with the Force, which explained her seemingly lucrative winning streak. The Jedi wondered if the organisers knew of her little secret. She was vicious, dark in mood and aura, and off the scale with adrenaline and anger. If she was fighting for money, or worse, she could be a key suspect.

Moving closer, winding around the outside, Connor muscled to the cage and clapped at the outcome, noting the dry and flesh blood on the pale chalk covered floor. Teeth and parts of clothing for added effect also were dotted around. Trying to catch her eye, Connor kept watching her until she looked towards him, prowling around like a wild animal.

"I'll challenge you!"

What did he just say? It didn't surprise Connor that a few more cheers ran up around him, and an excited hand patted him on the shoulder, shaking him eagerly. If there was more evidence Connor Harrison wasn't your typical Jedi, this was it.

[member="Irikah Zana"]

 

[Aidan Moonrunner]

Blood. Pain. Blood, more blood. She needed more blood.
As the Rhodian crashed to the ground, his neck bent at an unnatural angle, Irikah could feel herself slipping away. The crowd fueled her with their cheers, with their cries for more violence. Her glazed eyes looked around her, her enhanced senses feeding her information. She could feel the fury inside of her building up, ignoring how pained and tired she was, her chapped and cracking lips from a lack of water, her stomach which had not ingested food in two days, now, or her drooping eyelids from a lack of sleep.
She was running purely on her rage, and on the glitterstim. The drug kept her going, kept her alive. The young woman glanced at the crowd, her eyes settling on one man in particular.
[member="Connor Harrison"] did not carry himself like the rest of the masses. He was more regal, defined, elegant, while still maintaining a level of roughness about him. He was unlike any she had seen, and he drew interest.
Her inner self screeched that she seek him out, that she challenge him, that she establish herself over him. But she managed to restrain herself, about to move on, when he spoke.

Blinking, she regarded the man in a new light. This was quickly becoming unlike most of her other fights.
As the crowd congratulated him, she briefly retreated inward, calling upon the anger inside of her. It fueled her, giving her strength, giving her purpose. Her eyes opened, darkening with a new determination as she assumed a combat stance, one hand held in front of the other, legs spread evenly apart.
Though one thought stuck with her, echoed by her whispered voice, hoarse from disuse.
"Who are you?"

 

[Connor Harrison]

The girl was wired, that much was clear, and she was brimming with hate and aggression. The life of a cage fighter and all the darkness that went with it was probably all she knew. Connor read her physical signs before replying, ignoring the goading and patting from others around him to get up and earn them more credits.

"I’m your way out of here if you want it."

Whatever he said, nobody really cared; they were too excited and surrounded by noise to pay much attention to things said. They just wanted physical action.

"You gonna fight me or not?"

He’d never participated in a fight like this before, stripped down of weaponry. That actually was a lie, he HAD been involved in brawls but nothing like this.

[member="Irikah Zana"]

 

[Aidan Moonrunner]

Her eyes narrowed at the offer. A way out? A way out of this life, out of the hell she found herself in. It was appealing for the few moments it gave her hope, before she was reminded of her employer's eyes on her. Whether she liked it or not, she was tied here, by both her contract and the glitterstim flow. But she had to admit, this stranger's offer stuck in her mind, even as she began to dash forward, her bare feet kicking up sand.
As her right hand closed into a fist, Irikah examined her options. She wasn't sure why, but she had the impression that [member="Connor Harrison"] could pull off what he claimed. It would be difficult. The men running this little operation wouldn't take kindly to a stranger swooping off with their best fighter and credit maker. They had at least two dozen thugs surrounding this place, and plenty of blasters.
Irikah may be a junkie, but she wasn't unobservant.

As she slowly sent her fist at the side of the man's head, Irikah's brown eyes narrowed, making a decision.
Her voice was quiet, and quickly spoken, barely audible over the roar of the crowd.
"Hit me. Hard. The infirmary is on the other side of the arena, unguarded."

 

[Connor Harrison]

Goaded by the cheers, Connor looked to the burly human at the cage gate, and got the nod, which he returned. Acting up a little, cracking the neck and limbering up as he watched the girl preying around the cage, Connor wasn’t one with the body of a fighter so opted only to roll up his sleeves on the tunic and undo the chest buttons. This would be over quick. He gave his name.

He glanced to both sides as he entered. It reminded him of the combat arena on Voss used for training, only the shouts and cheers and bets flying around were all real. He was even splattered with ale and beer and god knows what else from excited patrons cheering on the entertainment.

Then the girl moved, and Connor kept his hands midway up to counter anything coming his way. As she sized up him and toyed with him, she spoke firmly over the crowd and he got the message.

As her fist glanced by, he quickly used her momentum to throw her forward as he side-stepped. In order to show what he thought would be a nasty, but eventually worthwhile move to the poor girl, Connor spent the next few minutes toying with her. Ducking and weaving the hits, feeding from her Force aura that she wasn’t using, but was certainly fuelled by. The crowd were baying for something – cracked bones, a bruised torso, blood – anything!

Sucking in a breath and balling his fist, praying that he didn’t kill the girl, he waited until she came with speed for what looked to be a close choke-hold, and launched forward in one step.

His fist impacted on the bridge of her nose with a nasty crack, and a spray of blood as her head whipped back and her legs buckled, falling forwards on her knees then down on the spotted sand with a groan.

The crowd bought it, and they went wild. The stranger had proved his worth by toying with the kid and brought her down in one hit.

Turning and nodding to the cheering faces, feigning his pride, Connor knelt beside the girl and turned her over, leaning across her torso and placing his hand on her neck, acting as if he was giving her a pep-talk on his victory. He quickly fused his Force signature with hers and clotted the broken tissue and helped stem the bleed in her nose.

"Go with it. I’ll meet you there."

He patted her, and then stood back, waiting for the grunt at the door to give the signal for her to be carried out of the cage to the sound of cheers, boos and bet receipts being thrown. Now he had no choice but to help the girl; she’d probably lost her career as a fighter here on Tatooine.

Giving time for her to be taken, Connor walked to the cage door and signalled he was ready for one more fight. A human male entered, and within seconds it was over thanks to a Force stun that rendered him unconscious with the disguise of another well aimed hit. This was a dirty, brutal world and Connor wasn’t up for any of it.

Taking a handful of credits from the burly bouncer handling the bets at the cage door, Connor was doused with sweat and dry blood and nodded, stepping down to cheers, boos and spilled drink.

The call went out for two new challengers and already the wounded girl was forgotten by the crowd. However, Connor needed to shuffle through the pats and applause to have himself forgotten so he could find the med-bay and get what he needed from the girl, and hopefully get her out.

[member="Irikah Zana"]

 

[Aidan Moonrunner]

Even though she knew it was part of the act, Irikah couldn't help but feel frustration as this man toyed with her. Over the past seven years, she had faced many opponents of all species and lifestyles: Mandalorians, humans, Sith, Wookies, Gammorreans, all were regulars at her fights. But none of them were quite like the man before her. As the fight went on, it felt like he grew stronger the angrier she became. She did not know how she knew that, but she did. It was a feeling, something within herself telling her that all was not right in her kingdom.
Deciding to put on more of a show of her employers, she charged forward, aiming to put [member="Connor Harrison"] in a choke-hold, only for her nose to meet his fist.
She could feel her blood spray, and she groaned as she fell to her knees, then the ground. She was vaguely aware of him turning her over, and a tingling in her nose, and the blood stop.
"Go with it. I'll be there."

As the thugs dumped her in the infirmary, Irikah shot to her feet as the door to the small room closed, her brown eyes hardening. She had just screwed herself. The schutta's that ran this place would have her out on her ass by tomorrow, with no credits, no bed, and no spice. Well, she just had to hope that this guy could actually get her off of Tatooine.
She paced back and forth in the room, her anger slowly rising with each passing second. By the Force, where was he?! She should've known he'd abandon her, just like everyone else. Dammit, now she had to figure out-
There. There he was, she could feel it.
As he entered, Irikah's brown eyes narrowed at him.
"Who the hell are you, and how the hell did you fix my nose?"

 

[Connor Harrison]

A thick-skinned Trandoshan escorted Connor to the infirmary and was quickly distracted by seedy conversation away from the fuss of the shanty-town arena. Connor pulled the sliding door and was greeted by a very angry fighter sporting a bloodied gauze across her nose and a steely look with a very demanding question.

Connor frowned and held his finger to his lips, stepping in and pulling the door shut behind him. The two lights in the infirmary were rather pathetic; one blinked on and off. This was an infirmary for animals it seemed; few real medical kits and just basics for cutting wounds, healing wounds, patching wounds and other grizzly procedures to patch fighters up and get them out quickly.

”Keep your voice down! I’m with the Silver Sanctum looking to shut this operation down. It’s reaching out farther than just Tatooine and all routes point back to this place. It’s not just about fighting.”

He walked past the angry girl, stimming in her Force aura that was raging, and went for a search for bacta strips, which he doubted he’d find, or some cooling gel for his hands that burnt from the grazes on them.

”I’m a Force sensitive; that’s how I helped your nose. Amplified healing just to stem the blood. And you – you’re up on your feet rather spritely for a girl who’s just been floored,” he turned his head to her. ”What’s your game? You’re brimming with enough Force rage to level a planet.”

For the first time, he didn’t mention being a Jedi. That title seemed to carry more dis-trust in these parts than others, so he played it down.

[member="Irikah Zana"]

 

[Aidan Moonrunner]

A Force Sensitive? On Tatooine? From the 'Silver Sanctum'? Hmm. This was becoming more complicated than she had thought it would be. Figured he wouldn't be just a hunter looking for the price that was likely on her head by now.
She knew little of the Silver Sanctum. Sometimes Grakcharr would 'rent' her out to some high paying customers on Coruscant, and they often talked of politics, though the fighter listened little to them, only caring about her next fix. Sometimes some of those customers would be Sith, and Sith had little to speak of but their enemies. She knew only the Silver Sanctum was the combination of a Jedi Order and another government out in Wild Space. She hadn't cared much, for that was across the galaxy.
Now she wished she had payed attention.

"So, you're a Forcie, huh? Explains quite a bit. Yeah, you're right. The guys here deal in fighting, spice, smuggling, and slaves. The arena's just a front to bring in those that might be interested in the more risky stuff. Get me as far away from here as possible and I'll give you every detail you want."
She had no loyalty to the bastards running this place.
"I've had worse. Plus, I'm wired on glitterstim at the moment. I have about twenty minutes until it wears off, then I'll feel that hit."
The spice helped her through both physical and emotional pain.
"Can you blame me for being angry? I'm an unpaid junkie fighting on a crappy planet in the middle of nowhere for the amusement of a bunch of perverted scumbags. Not much to be happy about."

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

So the girl was a junkie paying her way with fighting. She was broken, and not just her bones. Connor felt pity for her, and knew she would be helpful in knowing who or what were the main operatives in this ring.

He moved closer and started to take note of her posture, her eyes, her aura – she was certainly stimming, that was sure.

”Okay, listen. I can get you away from here and bring you to Voss, a planet far away from here. You give me names and locations of anyone involved with exportation and smuggling this stuff you’re high on, and any other illegal operations, and I’ll keep you safe.”

Twenty minutes to get here away from the town and onto his ship before she really kicked off and understood what she was doing. He started to twirl his finger and thumb around on his chin as he thought of the best way to get one of the group’s best fighter out of the arena.

”Right, I’m going to open the door and you’re to keep walking right behind me through the crowd and out the front, and follow me out of the shanty town, ok? Trust me. I’ll mask you and make you simply another face in the crowd.”

It was something he’d only done twice before, clouding an individual with the Force to help cover them. He turned away and pulled off a dirty brown apron from the wall and handed it to her.

”Put this on and keep your head down. And whatever happens don’t say or do anything or you’ll draw unwanted attention.”

Connor stepped to the door and exhaled, and pulled open the door to find those weak-minded aura’s of non-Force sensitive beings to lightly dust with a hint of manipulation. In a place where aspirations were low, it wasn’t going to be hard. However, it would be a much better route for them all if the girl did what he told her.

[member="Irikah Zana"]