Shockboxing was a violent and often dangerous sport where combatants fought each other in a ring using electrified gauntlets known as shockboxing gloves. These gloves could deliver blows of varying levels of electrical intensity, from stun to more lethal levels. A popular training method amongst military units, shockboxers were typically tough and skilled at melee combat. A regulation shockboxing match was divided up into ten equal two-and-a-half minute phases, with one-minute breaks between each phase. Barabels were frequent participants and known to be exceptionally suited to the sport. Today, it wasn't shock boxing, but the tactics were all the same.
Shockboxing gloves were a type of powered gauntlets, similar to stun gauntlets, used for the sport of shockboxing. Designed to both protect the hands of the wearer and deal damage to an opponent, shockboxing gloves emitted electricity with every blow. Unlike stun gauntlets, shockboxing gloves had variable levels of electrical outputs that ranged from a stun setting, to a light shock as often used during sparring sessions, all the way to a lethal output. The way shockboxing gloves were worn kept the gloves from falling from the wearer's hands and to prevent forceful disarmament. They weighed approximately 0.4 to 0.5 kilograms on average, and ran around five to six hundred credits in price.
Lysle had been taught in the way of Shockboxing by Bounty Hunter twins, Lily and Venus Rose. Two notorious Mandalorians, or rather now they were Dar'manda. One who was Dar'manda was one who had been banished from the Mandalorians, and considered to have neither a soul nor entry into the afterlife. They would forever be shunned, for they had committed a crime most grievous in their culture. The murder of fellow Mando'ade. Their excuses were palpable for Lysle, it was their job as a bounty hunter to kill. They needed the credits to survive. Now they worked for him. Elite marksmen, and former Royal Guards of the leaders of the One Sith.
He would have continued training with the twins, but when they were found out, as an associate and non-mandalorian, he was thrown out of their space. It didn't help when they discovered he had stolen his Tachyon from a mandalorian, and was indirectly involved in the owners murder. Not that he felt guilty for it. He was fourteen when the Rodian showed up on Kesh, blasted his two parents just outside the barn house. He did what he had too to survive, and that involved the young Lysle stealing the Tachyon and getting the feth out of their.
He sat in the back room locker, preparing his fists with a thin wrapping. The match was high-physical, no-shock. It mean't instead of using the shock-gloves, he would be doing it the old fashioned way. It would hurt, but not enough to immobilise you - like the shock gloves. It was the concurring punches you needed to worry about. Most combatants who entered shock boxing were looking for that quick credit, to pay off some debts or a narcotic addict. Lysle did it for the thrill, and sometimes revenge. This time, it was obvious. He held no qualms against this man. Tonight was for the adrenaline. To release his anger for the Black Suns.
Lysle glanced up when his sponsor and promoter entered the lonely room. "
Hey, get up the fight is about to start," he tossed Lysle a towel. "
I've got a lot of people betting on you tonight, son. You've got to win it. I know the last three matches have been hard for you," Edier said. "
The last three matches was five years ago, and against a Trandoshan - lets not forget I didn't have my head in the game. I've got it under control tonight," Lysle said, standing up. He flung the towel over his shoulder and gave his arms and legs a final stretch. Edier began to motion him out the doorway and into a long corridor, near its end was the glistening lights that awaited him. The ring, and for the next few minutes, it was all that would matter. Everything else in this galaxy would seem to vanish. It was him, and his opponent.
Mano a mano.
Lysle passed the crowd of belligerent alcoholics and insistent gamblers that wanted nothing more than to throw their money at him in the hopes they would get back double. He paid no heed. His mind was focused and sharp. As calm and collected as the washing waves on a gentle shore. He passed down under the ring, making the final adjustments to his wrappings. He turned around, Edier clamping him tightly on the shoulder. He placed the mouthguard between Lysle's lips. "
You've got 'im," Edier said.
Ding, Ding, Ding!
