No More Fun

[Phil]

Nowhere Station, Outer Rim
​

The fight was over, his opponent kneeled over as he held his gut, then toppled over onto his side and groaned. His groans were soon muted out by the boos and cheers from the crowd behind the energy barriers that surrounded them. CDR-382 backed up, looking down to his opponent before shaking his head and turning his back to him. He barely lasted a minute, and he knew the man was just wanting to make some money and wanted to hit something; he just was not expecting an armored opponent.

The rules were very simple in the arena, and everyone obeyed them: No weapons. No death blows. No Droid Combatants. You supply your own armor. The victor earns a good portion of the winnings, save twenty percent that the house takes.

Once the energy fields went down, CDR turned to leave while a trandoshan walked in, grabbing the loser by one arm and dragging them out shortly behind. "There you have it! Another victory goes to our blood armored friend See-Dee-Are Three-Eighty Two! Come back in the next hour and we'll see if he or Big Bam will be tonight's victor before the night is over!" The announcer yelled out through the speakers, then turned around once his microphone was off and sighed. "Where do these guys come up with these names..." he mumbled to himself.

CDR walked past the cheering crowd, ignoring them and their praise for earning them money and offers for free drinks or good times for one of the working girls. He glanced behind him once, looking to the people that he was seeking to escape from; he had been stuck here for months trying get his ship repaired, and knew he had a ways to go still. He tried working most jobs here, from collecting debts to working the mines deep below, and now he was fighting in the cage arena. No one saw his face that night due to his helmet he wore with his suit, and no one could see the contempt and disgust he felt having to stoop so low as to entertain these people by beating up anyone who wanted to fight.

 

[Lucy Lou]

The smuggler had put into the station in the outrim in order to meet a contact here. The outrim tended to be generally unpoliced so it made for finding those few well paying jobs, that might not have been so welcome within the Rim. They were also typically very discreet. However, her luck just didn't seem to be with her today. There'd been nothing. Not a single need for a pilot, or a smuggler. So she'd been siting in bar that over looked a boxing ring of some sort. She had never been one to enjoy such violet displays of strength. It seemed pointless to just beat someone for someone's entertainment. However, the cheers of the crowd indicated just how much people liked such blood sports. She wondered if any of the people here had even risked their lives for something worthwhile.

Finishing her drink, she stood from the bar to leave as there was a loud cheer. She guessed this meant that fight was over and there was a winner declared, such strange names. She'd just gotten to the edge of the crowd, when people began parting in order to let the winner through. Moving out of the way, she stopped to watch the armored figure pass by. She could kind of understand what might drive someone to this position. She'd once been forced into a do or die type situation as a kid on Nar Shaddaa. She'd done what she had to in order to make it from day to day. She wondered what it was that had pushed this particular man to this point.

 

[Drorre Vesajiliac]

Drorre had never deluded himself into believing his work was pleasant, yet as he offloaded the last crate of Kowakian Monkey Lizard Pickles from the back of his ship, and handed it to one of the waiting droids to place on the food stand, he could safely say that there where rewarding moments. Turning away from the ship, a simple Bantha Class Trade Vessel he cast his eyes over the tent that was hung between the two 'arms' of the ship, allowing him to sit in the shade as he did business from the front of the vessel.

It was a genius, yet simple design, allowing the Hutt to enjoy the safety of being so close to the ship, the shade of the tent slung between its 'arms' and the closeness of being near his customers, many of whom where already milling past to get in and see the fight going on within. Chuckling to himself, the Hutt activated his vid-screen and tuned it through to the fight channel, placing a list of odds on a holo-slate which he placed at the front of the stall. No point not trying to make some credits from the bets as well, the Hutt convinced himself, as he started dealing with the first few customers.

One of them, a large besalisk was already gorging on a roasted Rylak Leg - served by one of the Hutts very out of date droids, as Drorre saw another figure approaching. Shuffling around the face the figure, he hefty blaster pistol plain for all to see, the Hutt waited to see what this newcomer wanted....

 

[Outlander]

Bria leaned against the walll of the bar flanking the arena, scanning the combatants through her helmet. She wasn't a huge fan of recruitment drives; it always felt like there where better things for her to be doing than recruiting men from the fringe. She guessed it made sense; some of these arenas has very promising individuals looking for a way out of their... unfortunate conditions. The Accord could provide that.

If they make the cut. She thought, her eyes going cold a moment. The Accord was simple. You pulled your load and obeyed the rules. Beyond that, they didn't particularly care about background, prior experience, or demeanor. They couldn't really afford to be choosy. But she'd had more people than she cared for forcibly removed from the Void. It was a hard thing to quit the criminal lifestyle cold turkey, and, while they could ignore some things, petty crimes weren't really the style of their more hardcore elements. If they turned back to their old habits, they didn't have any choice but to eject them. Or, in less desirable circumstances, end them.

But, that was the crazy thing about the Galaxy. You never knew what you'd find in the most unlikely of places. Although that became harder and harder to tell herself after the third unsuccessful drive.

 

[Phil]

"That isn't your real name, is it?" A voice behind CDR was heard, causing him to turn to face the source of the sound. It had come from a woman, possible mid thirties and with a tattoo on her face and had long blue hair. She looked like a spacer of sort, someone who also did not belong here, but possibly passing through.

"That is a strange way to initiate a conversation. Did you figure that out by yourself?" CDR returned, his curiosity now to this spacer.

"Well, you aren't a droid. Someone had to of seen you to allow you to fight. Doubt a prisoner would use their own identification number for a cover. You're a curious specimen."

"Specimen?" CDR crossed his arms, wondering what she had meant by that,

"Sorry, just a term for... captives my crew finds." She said, then decided to change the conversation. "Can I buy the winner a drink?"

"No. Sorry, but there is nothing that you can offer me." CDR responded to the Slaver, having figured her out already. He did not care for their kind, and preferred to not associate himself with any of them. He only assumed that she was a part of a bigger slaving group that was either refueling or looking for runaways, or both.

"Well, can I get your name then, Handsome?" She persisted even after CDR had turned to leave, heading towards the bar area. He had stopped once more though, slightly glancing behind him.

"...It's See-Dee-Are Three Eighty Two."

"That is not a name..." The Slaver said, annoyed some that she was being rejected so quickly by him.

"But it is who I am." And that was when CDR fully turned his head back and proceeded to the bar, ending whatever that Slaver was trying to start or get from him. If he was going to get off this station, he would not be doing it with the help of them or associating himself with them.

 

[Outlander]

Bria watched the minor confrontation unfold. She'd seen the woman before; captain of a minor pirate crew operating in the Rim. The Cell was working on digging up some more on them, but they already suspected she was just a cell in a larger ring. Her hand twitched , wanting to go for her sidearm. But she couldn't jeopardize their op. Not if she wanted to avoid the headache of pleasing the ever present Mr. Pleasant.

But, it did offer a certain... insight into the fighter that left the ring. He was good; even compared to some of her people. And he wasn't interested in slaving, or at the very least not particularly drawn to the pursuit. Promising. Very promising.

 

[Phil]

Arriving at an empty space at the bar, close to what appeared to be a Mandalorian. He had met one in the past, one who claimed to be a senator, but he had lost track of him after he never got back to CDR about an offer. He reached into a pouch and produced a credit chit and presented it for the bartender.

"Anything in particular?" He asked.

"Yes. Nothing. Just buying this seat to relax for the time being."

Looking at the chit, and seeing that it would buy a few drinks, the Bartender shrugged and went back to serving his customers, heading towards a pair of humans that had just arrived. CDR crossed his arms as they rested on the counter, a sigh heard under his helmet. After a small silence, he tilted his head from down to up, looking at the bottles that filled the racks.

"I can tell you've been watching me since I left the ring. Either you betted against me or you want to congratulate me." He said, then turned towards the Mandalorian. "So which is it?" CDR asked, not in an aggressive tone, but a curious one.

 

[Outlander]

"Observant." She noted out loud, shifting her weight to stand fully, the helmet distorting her voice as it came out of the external speakers. Taking a seat beside him, she continued. "Neither. Or, at least, not what you're expecting."

Bria raised two fingers, bringing the bartender over. "Two glasses." The bartender looked at her strange, but complied when she presented her own credit chit. Two small glasses where presented to them, and she took out a small flask as he moved back to attend to other patrons. "None of the good stuff here. Always keep some on my person."

She pushed the second glass over to him, now filled with a swirling blue liquid, and what appeared to be a... gas?

"Reactor Core." She explained, removing her helmet and revealing the short-cropped, blond haired woman beneath. "Mixed drink from back home. No idea what's in it, but it does the trick."

 

[Phil]

"Interesting." He said, lifting the glass as he looked at the liquid inside and the gas that surrounded it. Setting it down in front of him, he went to release the locks on the sides of his helmet as he lifted it off and set it down in front of him. The man under the armor was shown, his stubble longer then usual due to not shaving lately. "You bring your own drink, and pay to use the glasses. Very interesting."

He figured it would be rude to turn down a drink, especially one brewed off world and imported, so he lifted it up once more. "You are the second Mandalorian I've met, so I must be doing something right." He said before he downed his glass.

 

[Outlander]

"Bartender's gotta make a living too. Besides, it'd be a bit strange if I carried glasses around on my person." She joked, taking her own drink and downing it. The concoction was a strange mixture of sweetness and a deep sort of burning flavor. It was fitting of the name.

She shook her head, partially in response to him and partially in instinct to the alcohol. "Or wrong depending on who you're meeting. More likely to meet an extremist or a merc out here than someone whose willing to share their booze."

 

[Phil]

"A Tionas Skirata offered me a position of a body guard." CDR said, having held down the Reactor Core he downed. "But he never came through. Not sure what his reasons were or if he was the real Tionas Skirata at that..." Assuming there really was a real one. "... but I never heard back from him, and I was back to square one. Does the name mean anything to you?" He asked her, once more looking ahead. Having only met him once at a different station and talking over sour drinks, he had a way with words, but never came through. He was wondering if this woman would be any different.

 

[Outlander]

"Skirata?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow at the name. " I know the clan. Tionas is something of a golden boy for them. Senator of Concord Dawn in the Republic. Now, I couldn't tell you anything about him personally, I don't really run in his crowd per-say, but he seems like something of a typical homegrown mando." The last part came out with some measure of sarcasm, and she almost rolled her eyes. She wasn't very fond of the somewhat archetypal mandalorians. There was a stigma about them; one that wasn't necessarily undeserved.

 

[Phil]

"Yes... that is one way to describe him. He was far more interested in his drinks and sharing them while offering false work." After finishing what he said, CDR then turned his attention towards the Mandalorian, as well as his head. "But Mandalorians are more about action, from what I hear. So what do you say we cut right to the chase while we are sober?" He suggested. From what she had said, he may have done something good or bad to get another Mandalorian's attention once more.

 

[Outlander]

"I saw you in the ring. You've got skill. But the fact yourw fighting our here means one of two things. One, you're a criminal, and how you dealt with that slaver makes me think that's not likely. Two, you're trying to stay away from something." She looked around at the bar they where in. "By the looks of this place, far away."

She removed a small holoprojector from her belt, and placed it on the table. Above it, a small projection of the Accord logo floated.

"I'm offering you a job. You fight with us, follow our rules, and You have a place with us. Don't care where you came from, what you where."

 

[Phil]

"Hmm..." CDR looked at the holo logo for a moment, tossing the thought in his head a little. No more then ten seconds passed before he spoke. "Tell you what, I'll accept on one condition. We leave together, today, and anything you need to know about me, I'll tell." He had nothing to really hide, and if his past would be irrelevant, then he knew this would be a good beginning. He just did not want to be duped into another false promise of a better life.

 

[Outlander]

Bria nodded eagerly. "You have yourself a deal. It just so happens I have an extra seat on my ship, so we can leave immediately." She'd modified her Guardian-class to have an extra seat some time ago. She wasn't usually skilled enough to fully utilize the ship's turrets, and having a dedicated gunner made things significantly easier. It came in particularly handy during recruitment drives. Although, she'd have to look into getting a transport at some point. The Guardian wasn't exactly spacious.

 

[Phil]

"Excellent. The sooner I put this place behind me, the better." He went to place his helmet on his head, locking it in before he went to his feet.

"Excuse me for one moment." CDR said, leaving the bar area and heading towards the recently arrived announcer near the ring. The armored man approached the brightly dressed smaller man, and started to speak to him. "I'm done. Find another fighter."

"You aren't quitting yet! You got another fight, and it's Big Bam. What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing, as far as I know. But I am quitting, and leaving. Find someone else to fight Bam. Take my winnings if you want."

"No, that's not a part of the deal. You fight one more and then you can piss off, until then, you fight until I tell you!" The Announcer said, pushing his hand into CDR with a shove. It was the last mistake he made that night as CDR in turn gave a "light" jab to the man's stomach, sending him to the ground in pain.

"Pathetic. It's only a bruise." He turned and went towards some lockers, opening them as he grabbed his only belongings from them: His side arm, a small military style bag and his rifle as he put the last two on his back. Leaving the area, he reached into a pouch, taking out some of his winning credit chits and tossed them onto the still grounded and moaning Announcer. "One thing I am not is greedy. Maybe you should learn the same."

His business here now concluded, he made his way back to the Mandalorian at the bar as not many noticed what had happened just a moment ago. "Ready when you are, Ma'am."

 

[Outlander]

Bria watched the altercation with something of an amused smirk. This trip was starting to grow on her. She was almost certain she'd get along with the new recruit swimmingly. As he returned, she stood, putting another chit on the counter in way of a tip and retrieving her holoprojector. She nodded to him as he addressed her formally, ushering him out of the bar and through the station, walking towards the landing bays.

Out of the immediate vicinity of the bar, she spoke up. "You let him off to easy. You strike me as someone who doesn't do things in halves." She looked over to him, giving him something akin to a questioning look. "Not that i'm complaining. More... curious."

 

[Phil]

CDR merely shrugged his hands at the comment, walking along side his new employer. "He's a middle man, answering to someone sitting in a bigger chair then his. Tempting as it may have been to of aimed higher, I didn't want too much attention drawn. Besides, he'll be in more trouble if he can't find someone to fight that lunatic Bam." Having never met him, CDR only went off from what he saw from past fights, and Bam was a loud, overweight, hairless, but vicious fighter who used his own weight to his advantage. While figuring he could have dealt with him, CDR was a bit relieved he didn't have to suffer through another cage fight in front of screaming crowds. "Maybe he'll find someone once he stops moping, or maybe Bam will choose someone. Might be him..." And the thought of Bam lifting the crying announcer over his head brought a small laugh to CDR.

"I don't mind getting my hands dirty and then some though. Make no mistake, If it came down to it, I would have put that punk down to the pavement, and he wouldn't be getting up. "

 

[Outlander]

Bria shrugged, flicking her hand in a somewhat dismissive gesture. "Don't worry. I wasn't baiting you with that question. It's nice to have someone around with some discretion. I just personally tend to be more direct when I deal with people like him." She adopted a somewhat solitary look before going back to talking. "You'll need that attitude. We do a lot of work in our sector; most of it is undesirable. But everything we do is for a good cause. We do follow rules though." Her hand came up, counting off the guidelines of the Accord.

"Your duty to your faction and the Accord comes above all others. No innocents shall be intentionally harmed in any dealings, be they business or otherwise. No theft from an innocent being or an Accord member without judicial cause. No member of any faction under the Accord may be slain by another member without trial."

"Essentially, it all boils down to hurting the right people. Beyond that, you'll have mostly free reign on assignments. Any questions so far?"