Shocker

[Malikar]

Nar Shaddaa,
Underground Shockboxing Tournament

Pain lanced through chest, muscles tensing for the briefest of moments before left arm lurched outwards, soon followed by right, and then another level, the strength behind them with the potential to crack duracrete as the Pureblood returned favour to his opponent. Spitting out, the crimson ichor of his body shot out from his mouth.

Venture grows tiresome.

Thought danced through mind, eyes snapping to the crowd as his head snapped backwards, away from stray fist.

Shockmitt tightened as much as it could, before Malikar's arm flew up in an uppercut, catching the jaw of the smaller alien.

The mans face looked to tense as he flew backwards from the force of the strike.

More bruises tomorrow.

Came stray thought, as he was hailed victor.

The shock collar around his neck triggering a wave of weak electric pulses as pained cranium rotated around to find Master's retainer.

"You do well winning on this night. Our Master will be pleased to hear it."

"Would that you would see to it, rather than taint presence." Sulfuric orbs settled on caretaker until naught was heard but grumbling. Prized possession in the form of Malikar would be obeyed, despite still being slave.

And then, he was alone, save for the hustle and bustle of the night life of Nar Shaddaa and the sound of combat short distance away.

[member="Alm"]

 

[Eurydice]

“You got this kid.” The burly Quarren grunted as he fit the shockmitts onto her hands. “You’re a natural, remember that.”

Alm stared down at the squid-like alien, a man shorter than she. The Nasvalo had met him only an hour or so ago after she’d stopped into a local cantina for directions. Shaddaa being Shaddaa, some scum tried to feel her up. Said scum was promptly KO’d with a fist to the head. The Quarren took note and offered her a shot in some underground tournament, saying that she had “natural shockboxing acumen”. Alm didn’t exactly know what that meant.

“You hit the other guy until he passes out.” He’d explained. “And try not to mess up that pretty face of yours.” He’d asked for her age at one point but the question sort of faded away. Alm had a young face but was taller than most human men. Despite her gangly limbs, she had immense strength.

Did she know how to use it though? Beating up drunk bar scum was one thing, but who knew if she could handle herself against a ring fighter.

Whoever was incharge of [member="Malikar"] tonight would get pulled aside by the Quarren. Some hushed talking and an exchange of credits later, the man was off to retrieve his prized fighter for one more round.

Alm stepped into the ring and looked around. Half of the crowd stared at her with a mix of disgusted curiosity and lecherous gazes and the other half seemed disinterested.

The young woman stared down at the strange gloves on her hands.

I am a natural?