Three Hits

[Tristan Ortega]

Location: Bothawui - Underground fight ring

Wearing: [X] (sans gun)

Tag: [member="Galaar Fett"]

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Receiving word about one ring or another was always a big deal. It meant that credits were moving, and out of all of the fighters littered about the vast, infinite space out there, Tristan was wanted. Now, whether it was because she was wanted in the ring, or to size up another fighter was always up in the air. Usually Tris didn't find out one way or another until she arrived to where ever it was she was going. The establishments were always 50/50 in terms of legitimacy and what they looked like, and just walking through the doors of one place or another typically told Tris everything she needed to know about whether she was going to be fighting or not.

At least, until she had gotten to this place. What was this place again? She knew she was on Bothawui, but what was the ring called? Hell, she couldn't remember, not that it mattered really. The place was most definitely meant for gambling, and it lured men and women from all walks of life - so long as they could pay their dues to whatever club it was that was running the place. It was clean, but most definitely reeked of sweat and blood, and the closer you got to the cage in the middle of the place? The worse that stench became.

Tristan had been greeted upon arrival, and from there she had pretty much been left to her own devices, and with that free time, she used it to watch the other fighters. It didn't take her long to figure out who were the ones working the floor, and who were the poor saps being tossed in just so these credit hungry people around could get paid. Occasionally her head would shake, but there was never a wince, never a 'Oh!' to go along with the crowd around her. She watched, she assessed, she calculated.

So by the time she was called on to enter the ring? Tristan didn't hesitate. Her jacket had been peeled off and tossed aside, and any extra accessories on her person were left out as well. When the cage door closed behind her, she didn't even glance at it, and instead sized up the woman across from her. Someone who's technique she had been admiring was now an opponent.

"Shame." Tris sighed out, which made the woman across from her scoff with a loud, obnoxious 'What did you say?' in response. Tristan merely rolled her eyes in reaction. "I said shame," she repeated. "I was hoping if they threw me in, I'd get someone worth the fight."

That earned a scowl from the woman across from her, but Tris smirked. "It's only gonna take three hits," she continued. "Me hitting you, you hitting the ground, and whatever healer speeder they take you out of here in hitting lightspeed on the way to the medical center."

The bell rang, and an outraged cry came from the woman opposite Tris. She was pissed, which made her sloppy, and the ravenette took full advantage. She easily ducked the blow that came for her head, and when she came back up it was with a left hook at full strength. Tristan's fist connected with the other woman's face, and true to her word it staggered the woman back and ultimately landed her on her backside. Naturally Tris didn't drop her stance until the count was over, and once she was declared the winner? She scoffed. "Damned blondes." she let out, and ignored the outrage as she stepped out of the cage to collect her things.

'You could have at least made it an interesting fight!' the manager railed out. His patrons were pissed, but that wasn't Tristan's problem.

"Maybe next time you'll get me someone worthy of my time and the trip out here, hm?" she replied, and reached out to pat the man's cheek a couple of times before turning away, slipping on her gloves, and heading to the bar. Now she needed a drink.

 

[Galaar Fett]

Location: Bothawui - Underground fight ring
Wearing: Grey Suit – Downtime wear
Tag: [member="Tristan Ortega"]
Post: #1

​

Trying times were coming. All that wore the Mandalorian armor, whether it be those that followed the supposed Mandalore Yasha, or one of the other sects of Mandalorians around the galaxy, all knew that very soon, there would be a spark that would light a fire that might not be put out without hundreds of thousands of dead vards laying on the battlefield. Everyone knew it was coming by this point, and now it was just a matter of time to see what would light the fire that might consume the entire galaxy.

For Galaar, knowing that the fire was coming meant making preparations for what was to occur. As much as the location they were currently in on Hoylin held symbolic meaning for him, he knew all too well that the defense capability of that area was slim to none. They also didn’t have enough vard that if the conflict was to find it’s way to the planet, that they could realistically make a difference or even defend the so-called sanctuary. So the man had two necessities at this point. Find a suitable place to move the Hoylin Fetts until the conflict blew over and it would be safe to stay there, and find other men and women capable of joining their ranks as not only Mandalorians, but Fetts.

The woman, the so called Alor of all of the Fetts, and her meeting with Galaar on Hoylin made it quite clear to him that he very little time to prepare all of this. That was why was now taking a much more active role in the recruitment aspect oft the clan. For now, he left the careful, quiet preparations of getting ready to leave the area for the time being to a few trusted advisors, so that he could take trips such as this one. Even if they had so far left him disappointed, such as tonight.

He had had high hopes when one of his underground contacts mentioned to him that a new underground ring was starting up on Bothawui, knowing that new rings typically drew a large crowd to participate in, trying to become the king of. However, the challengers this night had been disappointing, definitely not up to par with what Galaar had come here looking for. There would be no one to recruit this night, and he felt like had done nothing but waste time here. That was, until one of the last fights of the night began, and ended, rather abruptly.

The one punch knockout from the dark haired woman was certainly not something that could be attributed to luck in any sort of way. Her form was immaculate, and her stance had certainly caught the other fighter off guard. A perfectly clean and quick way to end the fight, relatively speaking. She would do, but first Galaar had to meet and persuade her. For that, he slowly stood from his seat outside the ring, shook hands with his underground contact firmly, and began to follow the woman out of the cage area, and to the bar, far enough away that she might notice him if she looked hard enough, but certainly wouldn’t be out of place to a sideways glance.

It would be courteous to allow her to get settled first before he move in to make conversation, something that he fully planned on doing. The dark haired man watched, following the woman’s every move, awaiting the time in which approaching her wouldn’t be seen as pushy or annoying whatsoever. First impressions matter, after all.

 

[Tristan Ortega]

Location: Bothawui - Underground fight ring

Wearing: [X]

Tags: [member="Galaar Fett"]

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Luckily enough, it had only been a side glance that gave Tristan notice of this well dressed stranger. She had a multitude of reasons to be paranoid after all, but it hadn't seemed to be much more than someone else moving around the establishment, and therefore didn't set off any alarm bells. The boys of her inner circle would tell her she was being ridiculous, but it is what it is. She didn't spend her whole life as a slave and come out of it unscathed in one way or another.

It naturally didn't take her long to reach the bar, and when she did the younger bartender gushed for a moment, which Tris put up with for only a short moment before she was ready for that drink. The enthusiasm of the kid made her roll her eyes, but an amused smile at least touched one corner of her mouth as she shook her head slowly. The dark haired fighter sat herself on one of the bar stools and sighed as she leaned heavily against the bar and waited.

From there was where she noticed the suit-wearer again. Just a catch from the corner of her eye, but it was enough to make her turn her head and acknowledge his presence full on this time. While she didn't exactly frown, her expression was somewhere between cautious and warning as she seemed to side him up from just this one look. He didn't seem threatening, but Tristan of all people knew very well that looks were extremely deceiving. For a time she just stared him down, and one set of her fingers drummed against the bar top as she did so.

Paranoia won out, "Do you normally stand around and stare at strangers?" she finally piped up, and turned herself on the stool so that she was facing him more. Easier to get up and defend herself if the need arose if she was facing him instead of the bar, after all.

 

[Galaar Fett]

Location: Bothawui - Underground fight ring
Wearing: Grey Suit – Downtime wear
Tag: [member="Tristan Ortega"]
Post: #2

That certainly wasn’t the first impressing that Galaar had been wanting to make. He had wondered how good the woman’s observation skill was, and this was a great indication that it was much better than he expected, which had come back to bite him in the butt. Assuming something like that probably wasn’t the smartest move he could have done, and now he needed to figure out a way to ease the situation into one that he could make his pitch.

The first thing that needed to happen was to ease the woman’s mind about who he was, and that he was observing her. Galaar slowly raised his hands in a palms up motion, soft smile peeking at the edge of his lips. His head shook, and his tone was one of calming and ease. “Not normally. Only sometimes. Typically by those that catch my eyes by the skill of their hands.” With that, he slowly lowered his hands, beginning to approach the open seat next to the woman. His eyes never left hers, and his motions were slow and deliberate, without any sudden motion as to stir the unease any more than it already had been.

When he finally sat in the chair, making sure the woman would not attack him now that he was sat, and utterly more vulnerable, he looked to the bartender and motioned him over. Once the younger man was within earshot, Galaar’s voice cut through the noise of the bar yet again. “A corellian whisky, please. And refill whatever she was drinking as well. On my tab.” The Mandalorian with specs of grey in his hair waited for the drinks to be filled before turning to the woman once again, raising his glass in the air before downing the shot in one go.

Placing his glass back on to the bar, he began to speak once again, the calm tone returning. “I apologize again for my entrance. I understand it wasn’t the best first impression. Especially to someone who just walked out a cage.” The side of his mouth curled lightly in a small smirk before he continued. “Though..you didn’t exactly break a sweat. It was impressive…even considering how the opponent was not much of a match whatsoever.”

 

[Tristan Ortega]

Location: Bothawui - Underground Fight Ring
Wearing: [X]
Tag: [member="Galaar Fett"]

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Well, his first impression may not have been the best, but at least the man knew how to make up for it. When he offered to put her drink on his tab, Tristan made eye contact with the bartender for a moment before she nodded her head once. She then shifted back in her seat so that she was still better facing this stranger and she lift an arm to rest it against the bar and lean on it.

"You're talking an awful lot about skill - despite the fact that, that fight was a joke and a complete waste of everyone's time." she pointed out, and subconsciously the fingers of both of her hands flexed once. "In my experience, that usually only means a small handful of things. One," she took up her drink. "The observer is looking for a new fighter. Someone with skill that can make them some money. Two, they have some sort of job they need or want done, and they want it to be messy. The sort that leaves a message, not the sort that kills someone off. Or three," Now she took a moment to take a drink from her glass and enjoy it before she continued. "They're looking for new property. Someone who will do all of those things, and make them a profit they don't have to share."

The glass in her hand was set down slowly and she went back to leaning with her arm against the bar. "So, which one of these categories do you fall into? And be forewarned, there is an answer that will lead to a very violent fight that I will not lose."