First Reply Lights, Camera, Smackdown

[Arla Rodarch]

​

Taris
Upper City Cantina
Equipment : Claw, Fang, Beskad
Objective : Fight.


The Fight Zone was packed, standing room only, well above capacity for the evening's fights, most of which have been bloody, entertaining, and fairly profitable for the establishment's owners. Taris's Upper City was wealthy, and there was no better gambling onworld than the UCC, and no more anticipated event than the Smackdown Series.

Few rules, plenty of danger, and the chance for profit and glory attracted fighters and gamblers and spectators from across the galaxy. But only the luckiest got to see the event live, and only the best got to participate...

It's dark and humid, with dust falling down between the cracks above, the noise of the crowd roaring. On one side of the dark room is a loose gate, through which light shines into the darkness. Through the gap is a brightly lit arena, through which can be seen a gold armoured figure, already standing in the ring in the centre of the arena, under the lights.

Over the roaring of the raucous crowd is heard an announcer's voice. "And now, tonight's Main Event!" The announcement is met by well lubricated cheers from the hundreds and thousands of spectators. Music plays.

"Introducing the first contender, all the way from Keldabe, Arla RO-Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaarch!"

The gold armoured figure in the arena raises one arm to the crowd in acknowledgement, slowly turning to take in the circular arena. Armed with Claw, Fang, and Blade, the Mandalorian warrior stands and awaits the unknown contender she will be facing.

The crowd continues to roar and shout crude expletives, as the alcohol and other intoxicants flow freely. This bout is also being covered for the HoloNET, and small drone holocams hover and whir above the crowd and down around the arena.

Arla's music dies away, and the rabid crowd in the arena and the potential billions watching live on HoloNET awaits the second contender...

 

[Jack Sandrow]

---

The spotlight swung over the ring, aiming to the far corner where a tall green figure was just now hopping into the ring.

"AND in the second corner, an absolutely unknown contender from the middle of nowhere, ready to be turned into paste!" The figure looked up at that, making a 'What gives?' gesture before beginning to limber up with a few stretches. "Please welcome - Jack Sandrooooooowwww!!!" Jack gave a polite wave to the crowd, grinning as the mixed response began to shift to more of a 'Boooo!'. He had no problem playing the heel, and against a shiny Mandalorian warrior that was almost an inevitability.

Although this Mandalorian warrior looked more familiar than most. Well hey - he had seen her recently, too! This was the lady warrior who had helped Master Noble a while back - he had run into the pair of them while checking out a mysterious temple in the middle of nowhere. He gave her a wave, walking towards her for the pre-match greeting.

"Well hey there - didn't think I'd run into you so soon again. I saw a roster to make some creds by putting people in the dust, and I needed some quick cash; didn't think I'd be going up against a Mando." He eyed her extremely well-strapped personage, and winced a bit, but gave her a smile as he added, "Can we both agree to not duel to the death, here? I'm good with no-holds-barred, but I'd rather not die over what could be a friendly tussle."

---

Arla Rodarch

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Taris
Upper City Cantina
Equipment : Claw, Fang, Beskad
Objective : Fight.


Wow. Arla had expected the usual run of the mill psychopath pit fighter gladiator opponent, and she was surprised to see an acquaintance, and a nice fellow at that. Not the kind of person one might expect to encounter in such an environment. Jack Sandrow was a friend of Valery Noble, which spoke volumes about his character in Arla's eyes.

"Sounds fair." Arla said, an amused tone in her voice. She normally wouldn't have given such friendly terms to just about anyone, not under these circumstances, but she had no desire to kill a friend and ally.

Not to miss a chance to play to the crowd, the Mandalorian made a show of discarding her weaponry. First the Beskad, down to the sand. Then the Claw, and finally the Fang dagger. The crowd roared with approval.

"No deathmatch today. We'll decide when we've had enough." the Marshal voiced to her opponent. Then she took the extra step of reaching up to remove her buy'ce. The helmet came up and off, and Arla shook out her hair as the crowd roared more approval. Some brave barve whistled at the Journeyman Protector, and there was a peal of laughter when Arla sent a one fingered salute in that direction.

Jack had his terms, and now it was on the two of them to give the crowd a good show. She readied herself for the contest to come, awaiting the approval from her opponent to start the proceedings. She wouldn't give anything less than her best. Fairness and honour were important, to be sure, but once the contest of battle began, there was only one rule. Win.

Jack Sandrow

 

[Jack Sandrow]

Taris
Upper City Cantina
Equipment: Wits
Objective: Survive.

---

Jack ran his tongue under his bottom lip, giving a slight grin as the Mando'ad discarded her weapons and helmet. He didn't know much about the warrior culture at large, but he remembered just enough to know that she was hardly defenseless at this point. This would most likely be an uphill battle, and he'd probably have to outlast her. Still... a few tricks up his sleeve would go a long way to helping him pull this off.

He gave her a lopsided smirk, stretching his neck with a quiet staccato of pops before limbering up a bit with a few stretches. "If you feel you want to pick up your knife or helmet again, feel free - I don't want you to handicap yourself on my account." With that, he took a loose stance, left hand forward and knifed but not tight, right hand back a bit & open, palm up. His shoe ground into the sand, and he worked his heel a bit, getting steady footing as he eyed her up, getting a good idea of what he'd be fighting.

Arla was tall. Very tall. It wasn't often that Jack could look straight ahead and keep eye contact, but he remembered whenever it would happen. She was easily his height, perhaps a hair shorter, and slim. His own build was about the same, but his dense plant matter would more than likely outweigh her muscle and bone. She would probably end up using her lighter frame for rapid strikes, so he'd have to switch to a more defensive play. Mandalorians trained from an early age to fight, so she'd be outmatching him in experience every day. She also was still wearing her body armor; it would have mass and density, but on her it would be lightweight and like a second skin. He'd have to go for arms and legs first - immobilize and disable. And finally there was her equipment. Not for a second did he think that just because she had shed her obvious weapons that she was now without. He hearkened back to an in-joke among Nar Shaddaa bouncers that Mandalorians had to show up to the function early, because by the time they had fully disarmed the night would almost be over. He'd have to keep an eye out for any hidden surprises she'd most likely have - very literally - up her sleeves.

What was that saying? No plan survives contact with the enemy? He blinked twice, coming back to reality after his little reverie, and gave his opponent a grin and a nod. "Ladies first."

---

Arla Rodarch

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Taris
Upper City Cantina
Equipment : Claw, Fang, Beskad
Objective : Fight.


Blocking out the crowd came easy to Arla, the warrior in her had already focused her mind on the fight. Jack's words indicated he knew his own combat prowess, which spurred her on to fight as well as she possibly could. There was no chance, however, of her picking back up the beskad, claw or fang she'd set down.

She wore only her beskar'gam, as if 'only' could be applied to a comfortable fitting set of beskar plates, even without the accoutrement of weapons, such as jetpacks, missile launchers, flame projectors, hidden blasters, and the plethora of other killing tools Mandalorians so loved. Arla was geared for the arena, and the crowd here on Taris liked a close quarters contest.

She looked across the ring. Jack appeared to be ready, to her eyes. Then he said it.

"Ladies first."

A little anger was a friend in war time, and she let the condescension fuel her own, she got mad, and brought out the inner beast. She didn't speak, her actions would speak for her. Rage focused her on her target, with even the ring itself pushed out of her notice. The universe, to Arla, consisted of her, and her opponent.

Arla felt the helmet in her hands, which she hadn't yet put down. All at once, she hurled it forcefully at Jack's head, and charged in behind it. It was a full body charge with her momentum behind it, where she would duck as low as she could to try and get her arms around Jack's midsection.

If she could, that presented options.

Jack Sandrow

 

[Jack Sandrow]

Taris
Upper City Cantina
Equipment: Wits
Objective: Survive.

---

Jack saw the helmet. He was feeling proud for the 0.01 seconds he had before he realized that he had ducked the helmet and gave himself right into her bull rush.

He let out a very undignified noise as she tackled his midsection, all the air in his lungs puffing out at once. The shock lasted even shorter than his pride, and then he was mashing an elbow down into her shoulder, trying to work an arm free. He twisted with his legs, trying to pull the momentum of her charge into an additional few steps to pivot. If he timed it right, he could use her own momentum to rip her off of him.

And if that worked, he'd try to kick her ankle out from under her, get her to sprawl over the dirt so he could pin her down himself.

---

Arla Rodarch

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Taris
Upper City Cantina
Equipment : Claw, Fang, Beskad
Objective : Fight.


The whooshing 'oof' of the air leaving Jack's lungs was the loudest sound Arla could hear, over the roaring and yelling crowd beyond the ring. Jack had ducked the helmet, and the low centre of gravity that movement gave him, led to him keeping his feet.

Despite that, with the momentum and the connection, Arla was able to power him backward. Elbows and kicks met metal, and though she detected the blows, they affected her very little. Beskar made for an unforgiving iron skin to an enemy's fists.

Jack's attempts to pivot moved them, locked together, sideways, and rather than fight the momentum, Arla pushed in that direction, which left Jack back first up against the ringpost with Arla's head down, shoulder first. Keeping both her arms locked tight around her opponent, Arla pinned him there, momentarily.

He was no weakling, matching her in size, and strength, though she wasn't sure yet if either of them had the edge on one another, the physical contest wasn't easy. She judged her armour gave her a slight edge, but not one that would prove decisive given their nearly matched strength and size. Therefore, Arla gave nothing away, and continued her attack.

Reversing her shove into the ring post, Arla attempted to pull backward with all her strength and lift Jack with her shoulders. If she both managed to pull him off his feet and maintain her grip, she'd slam him backward onto the mat with her weight on top of him. Those were two big ifs.

Jack Sandrow

 

[Jack Sandrow]

Taris
Upper City Cantina
Equipment: Wits
Objective: Survive.

---

She had been expecting the pivot, he realized a bit too late as she pinned him back against the post. His elbow blows to her armor plating weren't doing anything, but he wasn't worried so much about that. Repetition breeds familiarity, so hopefully she wouldn't be expecting anything special just yet.

Right as she pulled backwards, he felt the change of momentum and added a little extra kick of his own, using just a nudge of the Force to boost him back and out of her arms. One hand held onto her shoulder, using her clinging of his shoulder to snake his own arm and wrist around hers. With an additional yank, his free hand came down like a knife-blow, fingers pointed right into the soft meat of her inner elbow. He hesitated a moment too long, though, and she would be able to pull free with little effort.

Using that heartbeat to dart back for half a second, he cricked his neck again, rubbing his sternum a bit as he watched her with fresh eyes. Okay... speed, yes, armor, yes. His fist clenched, and he rushed back in, feinting right and aiming down to the left. And it would be easy enough to block, which was what he was hoping for. He wanted to feel her leg attempt to block the spiked thorns now sprouted from his fist, and see if he couldn't maybe disable a knee.

---

Arla Rodarch

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Taris
Upper City Cantina
Equipment : Claw, Fang, Beskad
Objective : Fight.


Just for a moment, Arla thought she was going to have Jack blasted into the ring mat, but only for a moment, before the surprising ethereal push of the Force assisted her opponent in breaking her hold. She turned with his escaping force, now still facing him, back to the ringpost.

"Ah." Arla said, respecting that Jack would use everything at his disposal in this fight, but also reevaluating her approach given his ability with the Force. Escaping her grasp, even momentarily, created a break between them. For an instant.

Focused on Jack, perhaps too narrowly, Arla missed what was going on with his fist spikes, because she was already leaping to the attack. She swung a hard right handed punch at his head, augmented by the beskar of her gauntlet.

Even as she swung, Jack's hit struck home, driving the surprise fist spikes into and past her beskar plate, through her joint and into her knee. Pain shot up her left leg, and Arla grunted involuntarily against the sudden agony and with the shock of the impact. "Shab!" She swore, unprofessionally, it usually didn't pay to let your opponent know you were hurt.

Whether her punch landed or not, Arla would fall backwards toward the ringpost. That knee injury was going to be a problem.

Jack Sandrow

 

[Jack Sandrow]

Taris
Upper City Cantina
Equipment: Wits and thorns, always sharp.
Objective: Pivot. Go on the offensive.

---

Jack stumbled back from the powerful shot to the face, groaning softly as he braced himself against the opposite ring post. His hand came up, gingerly touching his jaw. It was skewed a good three or four inches too far to the right, having taken a walloping of a blow from plated Mandalorian armor. His mouth was filling up, and he spat a thick gob of golden amber onto the sand, groaning again.

Eyes locked onto hers, and he gave her an appreciative chuckle and nod. "Aaawwww.... aaagh..." His hand dropped to his side, and his jaw clenched and snapped back into place with the sound of splintering wood and creaking vines. "Aach. Good hit." He worked his mouth a bit, and spat another glob of his blood onto the dirt, snorting back another small drop or three. "Ghhn... Alright, my turn."

In between one heartbeat and the next, he was across the arena, eyes flashing as his 'grass knuckles' aimed straight for her sternum, wanting to crack the armor or at least give it a good denting. Armor was fantastic at ablative protection, and extremely good at spreading out energy, both kinetic and otherwise. But it was still a physical layer, and there was still squishy flesh beneath. Probably. Hopefully. That was what he was aiming for, anyway.

---

Arla Rodarch

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Taris
Upper City Cantina
Equipment : Claw, Fang, Beskad
Objective : Fight.


As Jack cracked himself visibly and audibly back together with a bit of a show, which sounded to her ear like it got some love from the crowd, Arla concentrated on her breathing. The pain from her knee was harsh, and told her that damage had been done. Using the ringpost to hold her along with her right leg, she carefully tested the limb.

Not good. She could put weight down, but it burned like hell. Long term that meant she was still structurally sound, but that the muscles and ligaments were damaged. How bad there was no way to know without scans, or when she tore them completely through further abuse.

"Ghhn... Alright, my turn."

Arla wasn't unprepared for his attack. But he was damnably fast, and she would have been struck had she been less aware and alert. Though wounded and cornered, she right now counted the ring post at her back as an advantage. The more trauma she could spare her left knee, the better. "You had your turn."

Arla struck, not wanting to allow Jack to strike her again. Both arms came high, and struck down and outward at his wrists as he came in. That deflected his punch aside and away from her body, the target. That also created an opening by where she might reverse her fortune. Risking her left leg, Arla kicked with her right leg, high with the ball of her foot, at Jack's midsection.

Pain shot up and down her left leg as she put weight onto it, but with the pushoff from the ringpost, it held for the time it took her to kick. Whether the knee would survive the shock of the kick connecting, with most of her weight pivoting on it was a dubious proposition. Nontheless that was Arla's intent. She would follow the kick with a tackle.

The strategy that the Marshal employed here was simple. If they were on the ground, her damaged leg was less of a factor. Maybe she could even find a way to salvage the fight.

Jack Sandrow

 

[Jack Sandrow]

Taris
Upper City Cantina
Equipment: Wits and thorns, always sharp.
Objective: ow

---

Not fast enough.

His arms flared with pain as armored gauntlets smashed into his wrist and forearms, and he stifled a cry.

Not fast enough!

His breath left him again in a great big WOUUFF as she slammed into his midsection with her boot, and knocked him onto his hands and knees.

Not. Fast. Enough!!

She landed on his back with a heavy thud, her armor pinning him flat on his front with cold efficiency. The roar of the crowd filled Jack's ears, and his face felt hot. He was fighting her way - so of course he was going to lose. He had to fight his way.

From beneath her, chest in the sand, he spied the glob of sap he had spat out just a moment ago. His hand clawed at the dirt as he tried to get purchase under him, before calling out just loud enough for her to hear, "Get off me." His skin rippled and squirmed, and he flexed all at once. "Now." With that, he relaxed and blossomed into a beautiful plant porcupine.

Thin razorgrass blades sprouted up all over his skin, shredding his clothing, his footwear, and stabbing upward all at once towards Arla. Each blade was at least 5 inches long, with ones on his back and legs pushing past 10, and so thick that it was practically a Wookiee pelt. He needed her off him, and he needed that now.

---

Arla Rodarch