On the Blood Stained Sands of the Smugglers Moon

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Posting both halves of this with permission so it lives on the board.

[SIZE=10pt]Lost for purpose was a good way to describe [member="Emberli Garett"], or, as he was known by.... pretty much everyone. 'Bear.' He'd been Mandalore once, when the Sith Empire that had existed before the One Sith had come knocking at the Mandalorian door.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]He'd seen them off of Mandalore, and then made peace. A peace which would stand until the Republic battered down the door of the Empire and sent it into hiding. Inhaling deeply as he stood at the gate of the arena, he wondered how it had gotten to this point.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Part of him wished to fight in these games, these blood sports so common in the lower reaches of the Smuggler's Moon. But a higher part of him said there would be no point, and so, instead, he'd paid to stand by the gates leading out onto the arena floor, where he could keep a firm eye on the gladiators as they sparred.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]A brute of a man, Bear stood six and a half feet tall, thickly built in the Mandalorian way that made ones torso look an upside down triangle with the tip pointed towards the waist. His beskar was old, and a battered cloth hood was pulled up over his helmet - although his 360 degree view still worked.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Another exhale, almost a sigh. A man without cause was a man dead, and some days he pondered the benefit of just that; dying, to think no more.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]Chiasa was not as a general rule one to be found in places like this. They were dirty, and they stank. Besides, even in the matches where death was not meant to be the end point, it often was. It struck the Twi'lek as something of a loss. Not that she was a bleeding heart by any means, more that she was unendingly pragmatic. Surely their lives could be better spent. Even an idiot could be of use if they were placed in the hands of one who was cunning enough, who had the sense to seize opportunities.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Still, with the hostile takeover of Nar Shaddaa, the Ravens found themselves the proprietors of a myriad of new, interesting and almost exclusively illegal assets. This arena was one of them. It made some money, but it had been singled out as an investment that with a little effort could be paying out so much more than it was. Depending on what she saw today a few whispered words in the right ears might bring in a whole different level of gamblers, playing at much higher stakes than the few credits they found in their pockets.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Which left her with mixed feelings towards the victors in the ring. If they were good enough she wanted them for her own. But, if she took everyone who showed promise, the arena would not be as profitable. It was a dilemma. She was getting ahead of herself however, first she had to see how things were done now, and then decide the arenas future.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]There had been some sleazy little manager with her at first, but his presence had offended her, and when one hand made an advance towards her buttocks, a bite from one of the two RICO units that were the Twi'leks constant companions left him twitching on the ground, electrocuted. She'd been feeling nice, it hadn't been at lethal voltage. Though this was Nar Shaddaa, perhaps his throat had been slit by now. One could only hope.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]As she entered, moving towards the box she'd been ensured awaited her, a hulking figure in armour caught her eye, unmoving in the throngs of people. Once past his line of sight, or so she thought, she half turned back to consider him. One of the competitors perhaps? Big did not always mean talented, but he did cut an impressive figure. A space stayed open around him, an effect only her droids warning snaps accomplished for her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Continuing to her box, her lip curled up slightly. Bench would have been more accurate. Dirty bench. While she'd anticipated some level of untidiness and at least hadn't worn any of her more expensive dresses, the black silk harem pants she wore were still worth as much as an average speeder and were going to be simply ruined. At least her top didn't consist of very much material, so it was less likely to come into contact with anything unsavoury.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]Staring out onto the sands, one hand grasping the metal latticework of the gate, Emberli caught sight of halted movement behind him. An eye shifted, bringing to light what appeared to be a Twi'lek. It was hard to tell without firm attention, but she appeared... orange?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Surely a Lethan flavored by dim lighting. He knew when he was being stared at, but he made no motion towards her. She looked a bit too important to be down here among the common folk, like many Mandalorians considered themselves.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Fighters for the ages, they were, and proud to boast of such. But they still considered themselves 'common folk.' It was their heritage to be thus conservative, saving their coin and honoring their clan.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]But he had no official clan, and that was alright. Not everyone need be a part of a clan. They weren't a necessity, and so long as he had some semblance of family he was ok. Cade and Evi had been 'family,' in so much as he was able.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]In truth, after D and the unborn child went missing he'd not much cared for anything. A woman with child, his second child, and just as the first it was taken from his grasp. One by abortion, the other by fate.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]It stilled the heart of a man whose breast beat only for the blood of his kin, and it put a hunch into his shoulders he oft sought to remove. Straightening his back, he watched as a gladiator was toppled by sliced throat, vibroblade cleanly slicing his neck almost in two. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Moving to the middle of the gate, he crouched down and took a hold of the lower crossbar. With a faint grunt, he heaved the gate upward, stepping under to collect the body. There were people who were supposed to do this, but the man fought well.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Emberli would not see his body to rot before the help could get out. As he hefted the dead Rodian, he looked up towards a very disgusted looking Twi'lek, and let his visor rest only briefly on her... before he departed back through the gate.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]"She should not be here."[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] He says to the guard in the tunnel. There came no response. Said guard was used to the Mandalorian talking to himself.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]Wasteful. Wasteful, wasteful, wasteful. What could she have accomplished with the man who'd just fallen? He'd not been without talent, even if he'd lost. She could have used him, have set him as one of the many between her and her enemies. Or put him to work, taking over more territory, quashing or integrating the small gangs and lesser criminals. Instead he was dead and what had been gained? Her eyes swept the crowd. There were no big money bettors here, even if these people were to gamble their entire months pay on a match it would be nothing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]To be used was one thing. To be used badly was another.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Her initial reaction was rejection. She did not approve of this place. But she had not risen to where she was now without using her brain. Gladiators willing or not smelt of desperation. While she was not in theory averse to slavery or things that smacked of it, and was even willing to admit that it was likely some of the Gladiators took pride in what they did.. For one who had been sold and trained to entertain others.. It left a sour taste in her mouth. She had seen to her own freedom, and expected others to do the same, but it still rankled. That was a reaction of the heart however, not the mind, and she could ill afford to follow her heart.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]This could be made into a profitable endeavor. The infrastructure was here. The talent was here. The basic reputation was here. All it needed was to be improved upon slightly, a proper VIP area for one, and then for the VIPs to be gathered. Not as hard as it might be when her organization was based in a casino. The pool was right there, waiting to be dipped in to.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She was distracted from her calculations by the man from the gate. He came to take the body of the downed fighter away. If that was all he was he was rather over-dressed in her opinion. Still, if she'd had body hair it likely would have stood on end when his visor turned towards her for a moment. He could have been looking elsewhere, his eyes were hidden after all. All the same he was looking at her, finely honed survival instincts told her it was so. One brow arched slightly.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Interesting..[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]Into the depths he went, a bearer of deaths heavy burden. Body over shoulder, blood leaving a trail of pain on the ground behind, he went towards the furnaces that belched thick smoke out into the city. It was the quickest way to dispose of a body down here.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Thankfully his helmet was insulated from the smell, otherwise the furnace room would smell a charnel house. Stacked bodies, haggard workers. All devoted to feeding the great pyre that sat inside metal shell, swallowing up life only to vomit it back out as smoke with mingled ash.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Dropping the body on the pile, he gave a sigh and departed without a word to the workers. Heavy steps carried him back up to the gate, and then around, towards where he'd spotted the Twi'lek.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She reeked of Sith. Haughty airs, Twi'lek, expensive clothes. Disgusted by common folk. That all added up to Sith in his mind. They all thought themselves so much better than those around them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]He would not see one ruin these games. Base they may be, they were still an honorable way to prove worth in combat. Crowds parting before him, he made his way up towards where he'd seen her last, hardly impeded on his way.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]He was a known quantity around here by now, but that wasn't what stirred feet to motion. Rather, it was the knowledge that this was a Mandalorian. A true gladiator, born and bred into a culture that worshiped the next hardest kill.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Not too many people went gladly to war with a Mandalorian. Those who did often died with blood tainting their last smile. His attention was on the Twi'lek though, little else. He would find out who she was, and then he would bid her leave.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]Though she also watched the next fight with part of her attention, she had started scanning the crowds, looking for the little cons. You never knew, there might be someone worth finding here. Your average pickpocket or conman was a dime a dozen, but a truly skilled one.. Those were rare, and could come in handy.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Her reverie was broken by the feeling of being watched and the two RICO units rising, their canine forms turning to focus on what they had identified as a potential threat. She didn't turn immediately, she trusted the droids to do their jobs, and in any case, it never did to look too scared. If you did you were labelled as prey. Much safer to be one of the predators.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]After a few breaths she did turn however. Naturally yellow-orange eyes falling once more on the man in armour.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Curious and curiouser.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]On closer inspection his armour might have been Mandalorian, which could pose a problem. She herself had never picked a fight with the Mandalorians, and had advocated for the freedom of those few Mando Ravens to continue to answer the call of their heritage as they saw fit as long as they did not directly oppose the Ravens, but she doubted any of the Mandalorians knew or would care. Cryax had peeved their current Mand'alor with his treatment of the mans sister.. She was still annoyed with how he'd handled that and now it looked like she might have to deal with the consequences of his actions. Of course it was also possible the armour had been bought or looted. One could hope.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She didn't rise. What point? He had not addressed her, and if he choose to engage she couldn't fight him in any case. Besides the two droids she was unarmed and unarmoured. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She did have one little surprise in her handbag, but it wouldn't do any good against him at the moment. What to do then?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Bluff, always bluff. Never show fear. Never show weakness. Always act like you were in control.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]A subtle gesture and the canine droid between the two stepped back to the tiger striped Twi'leks other side, the womans body now between the man and the droids. She glanced down briefly at the bench beside her and then back at the man before returning her gaze to the sands and the crowds below. An invitation if he chose to take it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]He couldn't invade her space and make her look weak if he'd already been invited into it and she allowed it after all.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]Stopping short of said invitation, the man paused in his ascension towards her box. One foot was set upon a wooden seat near her, lifted high enough he could rest an arm across the top with practiced ease.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]His visor was settled on her like a homing missile. He knew the effect his presence had. It was one often reminded to him by those he'd called close. Big. Imposing... but gentle. A Bear. The nickname fit not only in ferocity but also protective and careful nurture of those in his charge.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]He also had a habit of sleeping like a brick. That might have had something to do with it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]"Whoever you are, Twi'lek, it matters not."[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] He begins. He knew the airs. There was a bit of a lift to her chin, but he didn't even need to notice that to know he was judged inferior. Or, at the very least, she superior.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Instead of accepting the given invitation, he spurned it, staying just outside of her box in his own space. Up close, it would be easy to see what looked to be a saber hilt on one hip; though it was old, battered. Likely a trophy.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]On the other was a Mandalorian Ripper. Nasty things, disruptors. He preferred them to anything else. All purpose weapon. [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]"But what does matter is you're here when you should not be. You are here for one of two reasons." [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]A crushgaunt covered hand rose, an index finger rising. [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]"You are here to search for talent, be it gladiator or bystander. I know what manner of folk lurk in these crowds." [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]The second finger rose, pressed to the first like a two fingered check of the wind.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]"Or, you're here to survey a kingdom. See what the area has to offer. Perhaps you think yourself the owner of this area, now or future, it matters little. Regardless, these are honorable games fought by people seeking honor. I would not see it sullied by one such as you." [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]The judgement was harsh, blunt, and direct. Mandalorian to a fault, even if his cultured words couldn't mask a thick country drawl. He did not, however, sound angry.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Or even threatening.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]In fact, he almost sounded pleasant. Like this was a polite courtesy between friends.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]Pleasant sound or not, the Twi'lek took offense. The slight brow raise again, as if in surprise, her face remained otherwise blank, a sure sign that she was not pleased.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]"One such as myself?"[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]The question was asked mildly. With polite curiosity[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]"And what precisely have you judged that to be?"[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Honour this and honour that. What honour was there in bleeding out on the sands to quench the bloodlust of these who were no one and would remain no one? Was it to be for traditions sake then? Was it an art? Those reasons had been used to justify the institution she'd been sold to as a child as well, and she'd seen no honour in it then and saw no honour in it now. To fight could be honourable, just as to dance could be honourable. But not merely for another beings amusement.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]To hell with profit. I will tear this down and build a.. a.. shoe store you ignorant ass. And it will not even have combat boots. Only high heels. Pink ones. With sequins. Maybe feathers. And you can take that and shove it along with your nether be damned honour. Your little gladiators will go die elsewhere for no reason and no honour and the dead will be forgotten, and what will it all have been for then? Just as little as it is for now.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]This is my kingdom and I will do as I please.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]"Likely a Sith, or at least one not far enough from one to warrant any difference to these tired eyes." [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]He retorts dryly, sounding no more pleased as rage flashed behind those eyes. Anger was a tool, just as anything else.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Fights weren't determined by who went down, but by who got back up. It wasn't blood that sealed a defeat, but will. Taking a slow breath, he exhaled it again, making no move for weapon or to come closer.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]He didn't even know if she was a Force User. But her -air- said it all. She acted as though she had tools and means no one could see, and generally that meant arrogant Force User. She was no rich families daughter, that much was obvious.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Didn't leave much left for him to decide upon, really. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Something told him this would end in a fight.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]"Then both your judgement and your eyes are lacking."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]A hand gesture dismissed both him and the Sith.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]"I can be bothered neither with magic tricks nor with fools who sit about fawning over a man in a scary chair while making empty threats at each other."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Chiasa had been in the diplomatic talks with the Sith. She had not been impressed. As far as she was concerned all they did was brood, kept impotent by some man who never even spoke or involved himself. Pathetic. They thought they were powers and yet allowed themselves to be leashed. One had even thought he could thrall Cryax and that she would not notice, would not act. He had been corrected, and soon enough Cryax would be properly free of his influence. She would suffer no Masters, let alone any so unworthy. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Their alliance was a matter of convenience, to help mitigate the rising threat of the Mandalorians. If Cryax hadn't gone after that damned girl and broken her tender little heart, there would have been no war and the alliance would not have been necessary. Mandalorians and their damned honour. This one was clearly no different.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]As for the Force, it was true she had potential, but quite frankly running a criminal empire did not leave much time for sitting about and meditating. Or whatever it was those idiots did. Either set. Jedi or Sith. Religious zealots the lot of them.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]There was a faint motion of the shoulders, as if he'd scoffed, but no noise came. Without a word, he turned and began the trek back down the stairs towards the grime of the arena floor. Lips quirking a little under his helmet, he shook his head.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She stood the same as a Sith, removed of religion. Arrogant, self-serving. Still, her words rang true to his ears. She did not like them. It was a start for a woman of inflated self worth. Perhaps she felt she rightly deserved what she had.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]After all, even cheating someone out of money took a great deal of some kind of a skill. But that mattered little to him. Hopping over the railing and into the grime, the man orating in the center of the ring gave pause.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]A look to the wings said the gladiators were confused too, but Emberli turned and looked up to the Twi'lek. A hand rose, finger pointing to her. He then made for a weapons rack nearby to survey what manner of melee weapons he could put to use. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She wanted to dismiss him, she could.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]But he would test her worth. This was not a challenge she could back away from and save face. If you showed up here you were as liable to fight as the fighters themselves, should fancy take the wrong people. Said wrong people were usually Hutts of incredibly boredom.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Still, he kept an eye on her. See what she would do.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]He wanted to fight her? Was he bloody mad? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Still, her blood was up and in any case, she could not simply back down. To do so would lose the Ravens too much face. Damn! If only Xalus hadn't disappeared along with half the galaxy. The hulking Gen'Dai could have taken this man in a moment, she was sure. She did not do the fighting. There were people for that. With annoyance, and if she were being absolutely honest no small amount of fear, she wrapped her bag around one of the RICO units neck. She wasn't going to get beat up and robbed in one go thank you. Two small objects made their way from the bag to her her pockets. Her shoes, not perhaps the most sensible of footwear, also went into the bag.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She spoke in a hushed voice to the droids.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]"Contact the Unkindness, I want eyes on me and a speeder ready. Do not interfere unless I signal. This is a direct order."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She wasn't even sure their usual sonic crowd control would work with his armour. It likely wouldn't. The electricity might, if amped up to what was usually killing levels. Damn the Mandalorians![/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]With light steps, the barefoot, barely clad, orange skinned Twi'lek moved down the risers, jumping gracefully into the ring. Speed. That would be the key. It was all she had really. She was basically karked and she knew it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]"Well. You're ready to prove your honour by fighting a woman half your size in your armour are you? Lovely. I'm sure everyone's very impressed with you."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]The Twi'lek snorted, an odd sound from so dainty a frame and looked down her nose at him. A glance at the weapon rack told her it held nothing she knew how to fight with. Largely because the only reason she even knew how to fire a blaster was that one of the heads of security in the Casino had insisted. Still, it would likely be good to have something. A metallic staff was chosen. Damned if she knew what it was made from and damned if she knew if it had a proper name, but it was a stick, it couldn't be that hard. She could probably block with it and hit him from as far away as possible, so that was something.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]As she came down to join him, he began the process of disrobing himself. Well, not entirely. Rolling his shoulders, he began setting aside his armor bit by bit. A small alien came out to gather it up and set it just inside the gate, piece by piece.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]It would still be sitting there when he left, he knew as much.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]After all, there were guards to this place. You could pay them off, but it wasn't worth the risk when beskar was involved. You simply didn't want that kind of heat.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]But as the armor came off, revealing pale, scarred flesh, she'd find herself facing probably what she expected. A thickly built man with no small amount of ink in flesh, possessed with seemingly endless muscle corded beneath his flesh.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Looking up at her with faintly furrowed brow, he cracked a smile so small you'd wonder if he even knew what one was supposed to be. [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]"Who said anything about impressing anyone?"[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] He asks, turning towards her clad in - quite literally - only his underwear. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]The alien carrying his armor came back out with a cup and a bunch of cloth to wrap around his waist to secure it. He did. Didn't need his nuts being split wide open, after all. Looking at her, he simply cast a sad look downward and wrapped his hands up before rolling his shoulders again.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Turning towards her and the stick, no weapon in hand, he gave a nod to the official. This was the first time anyone had seen his face in almost a year. He did not look pleased to be doing this.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]The official raised his hand... and then brought it down.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]"Your move." [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]The man says, standing stock still. She had the reach. He'd give her the first blow.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]Well.. If it wasn't likely that he was about to cave her skull in she'd be enjoying the view a lot more. And if he hadn't put her on the spot in public. Even with him basically naked, she didn't think her odd of winning were good, though it did broaden her opportunities and she kept an internal smile well off her face. No need for him to suspect anything.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]"Of course not, we're not impressing anyone, it's for honour how could I have forgotten? I don't think they care about honour, I think they're just excited by blood and suffering that's not their own. And any gods of yours? They don't come down this far."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]He obviously hadn't grown up in a place like this if he was going to go on about honour as he had been.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]The cup was unfortunate, she had really, really been looking forward to getting in at least one good blow there to teach him why it wasn't a good idea to fight women before losing. Still, there was a lot less protection than she thought she'd have to deal with.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]The officials hand dropped and the match began.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]...or didn't.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]"What? No."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Bugger that. She might have had to get in the ring with him but she'd be damned if she was just going to throw herself onto a trained warriors fists. The Twi'lek had both hands on the stick, about two hand-spans apart, and was poised on the balls of her feet to move in any direction at a moments notice but she was not going in to him. She was stupid but not that stupid.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]"There is no honor in this either."[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] He says with blank expression, his features when set to neutral lending themselves to a look of quiet sorrow. There was no emotion felt, its just how the features fell. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]It made it look like he regretted doing this.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]With little warning - not even visible tensing of muscle - he darted forward, pulling a fist back. A ruse, really. Because the only true move she'd do would be on instinct were his assumptions to be correct. She'd swing the stick at him in a diagonal swipe with the top section. Down and into his shoulder area. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]A knocking blow to put him onto the ground.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]And so in anticipation of that he suddenly shifted, lowering his torso to go under where the strike would likely come from before extending arms to grab and tackle the woman violently to the ground.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Much to a roaring crowds approval. They knew little of her, and cared even less she was an unarmored woman. He'd evened the stakes as best he could; that was all they cared about.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]It was true she was operating largely on instinct. It was also true however that she was paranoid and afraid of him, and while he was not engaging with a warrior, he was fighting a dancer. The sudden dart forward took her by surprise, and she made a note that his control over his tells was superb. At the very least because she had refused to close with him, she had a half second to react.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]As he predicted, the staff moved without her even really thinking about it, snapping down. She didn't actually consider the fact that such a blow might be able to drop him. He was trying to hit her, she did not want to be hit. It was as simple as this.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]As he lowered himself to tackle her however, alarms went off in her brain. He was too big, too strong, she could not let him grab a hold of her. To do so would be to lose. She could cheat, she was a criminal, it was not only an option, it would be almost expected from those who knew who she was. She could not cheat without having lasted for a little while first however, if she was to keep face. And if she was not to keep face she shouldn't have got in the arena to begin with.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Actually, she just shouldn't have gotten in the arena. This was a terrible idea. She definitely regretted this.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]In any case, the training she did have in a seemingly unrelated and non-martial pursuit came in, and as he dove in the use of the stick changed. It was still swinging down towards him yes, but damage was not the purpose. Moving in towards the attack, and wasn't that hard when instincts said run, she went to tumble over the man. No force-users ridiculous flip ten feet through the air this, only an athletes. He was moving forward, she would use the stick as a pivot point to flip herself over him. Perhaps if it was successful when she hit the ground the stick would snap out behind her, but largely she just wanted chance to establish space between them again.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]He was fast for someone that big.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]Establish space she did; with her movements, he pivoted, keeping her within sight as she moved past with the assistance of her gigantic karkin' stick. Smiling to himself, he put a hand down into the grime and slid to a stop.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Pushing himself back up, he squared his shoulders and rolled his neck, bringing himself into a ready position. He'd made the first move, and so now it was her turn. She was about what he'd anticipated.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Quick. Athletic. Likely impressively flexible. All things he'd normally enjoy in a woman.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]If she wasn't, ya know, trying to beat him - quite literally - off with a stick. A faint smile appeared on his face, even as he made no more moves to attack. She had the reach, after all.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]Oh wonderful, now he was smiling, that probably meant broken bones were incoming. A new and terrifying thought occurred to her. This could affect her actual physical appearance. Never mind death, she could be disfigured. Now she really did not want to play any more. This was the worst. Xalus disappeared and Foebacca off training some pain in the ass new recruit. Her bodyguards were terrible, and they were definitely taking a paycut for this. The droids did their job and did it damned well, but while an organic stand-in was generally acceptable a metal one was not. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She still really did not want to close with him, but didn't see much choice. She was only in here because she had to maintain face, and that meant that eventually she did have to try and hit him. This was probably that eventually.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Well. To the Nether with it. She'd heard once that what properly trained warriors really hated was having to fight an utter beginner, because it was hard to tell what the untrained person was going to do, it didn't always make sense. Hopefully that was true, and not just something said to new recruits so they didn't realize they were likely about to die. In all likelihood she was probably broadcasting every move she was going to make now that she was put in a situation where she had time to think about it, muscles tensing as she tried to work out precisely what to do and how to do it. While she could go completely unreadable in diplomatic situations, she was so far out of her comfort zone she'd need a starchart to get back.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Darting in, her left hand released the stick while her right snapped it out vertically in an attack that had more speed than power. It would still sting like the devil if it hit though, it was a metal stick. Had she been fighting someone her own height it would have been a solid throat level blow, capable of real damage. On him it was rather less effective. She thought she was probably still out of reach of a punch and could probably abandon or redirect the blow to scramble away if necessary.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]This fighting business was hard. If you didn't commit you did no damage, if you did and it went wrong you were karked.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

[SIZE=10pt]She was out of reach of a punch, true, but as she came in... well, there wasn't a whole ton he expected her to try for. Beginners were his favorite; you could anticipate them. Experts were even more predictable.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]But predictable didn't mean easy to defeat. In his life he'd anticipated many an attack that he'd known to be coming, only to still suffer at its hands. Speaking of hands... the stick struck out, metal flying towards his chest.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Stepping forward into the blow, he brought palms up so the metal impacted them on the flat. Grasping said stick in powerful hands, he continued his forward momentum was giving a fierce tug on the weapon to pull her towards him and the elbow he raised to nail her in the face.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Between lunging elbow and pulled woman, she should be close enough for a solid blow. But even if she wasn't, she would have to decide between weapon and him. Give up the weapon, or take the blow and hope to hold onto it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Or, perhaps find another way to handle the situation.[/SIZE]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Ohchitohchitohchit

Her mind offered up in fevered and not particularly helpful refrain as she was suddenly pulled in towards him. Instinct had her left hand snatching the stick again, not even thinking, just afraid to lose the one obstacle between him and her. Now an elbow was rising and get distressingly close to her face with worrying speed. That looked like a very solid elbow right there.

With a small distressed squeak at the prospect of having her beautiful face broken, something in the Twi'leks mind snapped back into place. Again, old training saved her. She didn't know how to fight, but she knew all sorts of things you could do with a pole if the support was strong enough.

So as the elbow came closer, she went backwards, never releasing her grip. With enough momentum which she definitely had given the speed at which she wanted to escape that elbow, and if he chose to hold onto the damned thing, she'd swing around it and kick him in his face and see how he liked that.

Maybe hopefully being kicked in the face would see him dropping the weapon and letting her back away again. Or possibly she'd just find herself in the same situation only upside down, which was probably not an improvement.