Ask Pits of the Mind

[Ryujin Izanagi]

His eyelids were closed by the orbs behind them darting from side to side, legs folded beneath him and arms resting gently on the top of his legs. He tried to find some silence within his mind, to control his emotions and pull them back into line. Focus on what was the next course of action, the next command from on high. Darth Anaris, risen to old Stolas’ seat was itching to put her mark on the galaxy and Ryujin’s hand was one of those holding the stamp ready to strike.

But his mind was unfocused, that little gaunt back to Nar Shaddarr had brought back memories he had believed were long buried. Yes, he could tap into the anger from his past when need be, but he had otherwise locked away those memories, to be an Inquisitor you needed to have a clear mind. The ability to think without passion, anger or pain when the shit hit the fan and having memories like this through your mind was only going to get yourself killed.

The sound of blades cutting through the air, fists slamming into flesh, feet crushing bones and the crowd baying for more blood ringed through the air. It was like it was only yesterday he stood in those pits. Ryujin’s jaw was clamped down in anger at the thought, his fingers fidgeting, opening and closing fists, grappling imaginary enemies. And his eyes kept darting behind their closed lids. The sounds grew and grew until all he could hear was the crowd.

________________​

Opening his eyes, he saw the fist of the Nautolan fly towards his face, it was covered in an iron gauntlet built to break bone. Without conscious thought Ryujin ducked underneatht he blow, sending up one of his own landing a solid hit into the side of the Alien’s stomach. A wild swing from his opponent made Ryujin dance away, it was then he could look up at the crowd. Hundreds of creatures looking down into the small arena, screaming for more blood, more death. A pair of Hutt’s sat upon their gilded thrones, a smile upon their fat faces. They were his owners, Nar-to and Benal, he scowled at the pair, their greedy little slug faces covered in grease and fat from the winnings he brought them.

That moment of thought was all that it took for the Nautolan to land a hit into his exposed ribs, Ryujin heard them crack and he let out a shout of pain as he rolled to the side to once again get distance. This was his fortieth fight in the pits, he was told that twenty would get him freedom, then thirty, now forty. He was sure it would change again to fifty tomorrow, but what could he do? Give up and become labour for the spice mines. At least here he could let out some anger.

@Dmitri

 

[Fidchell]

Years ago...

If Mos Eisley was a hive of scum and villainy, Nar Shaddaa was a universe of scum and villainy. Anything you want to get off the black market? You can find a guy here. Need some "cheap" labor? You can find a guy here. Need to "spice" up your life? You can find a guy here. Need some weapons the Republic handles with kiddie-gloves? You can find a guy here.

Need some experimental serum that can leave your fighters to last longer? Well, there is a guy, and he's known as The Doctor. The Doctor has been a staple of the criminal underworld to those with the right connections, someone who can take care of surgeries you can't go to prestigious hospitals to fix, someone who can trade intel, someone who has a lot of goodies he's developing.

The Doctor's relationship on Nar Shaddaa was symbiotic. He sold inventions and concoctions (never treasonous to the Empire, he prefers his head where it is, thank you, cherry on top), and received commissions for his work. (Or should. One Pyke thought he could double-cross The Doctor and now he's double-headed when he was sliced in two with the secret Sith's lightsaber.) His status as a Sith is known to a select few, mostly through deductive reasoning, but not many. He prefers it this way. As a secretive Inquisitor, he can operate unmolested, his observations of the criminal underworld on behalf of the Empire easy when his involvement is everyday business, his interest commonplace among criminal entrepreneurs; after all, if you don't know who's who, who's got beef with who, you can find yourself dead real fast.

In truth, both sides benefited typically. Normally, what The Doctor sold was experimental, allowing criminals like the Hutt Clans to test out any side-effects for the beta tests (The Doctor conducting the alpha tests himself). For example, he was currently working on a serum with the interim name BAC-9, which increased longevity in combat, to work through the pain of injuries. However, it tended to have an undesired side effect - one currently barring its future usage with the imperial armed forces - of increasing the user's rage. The Hutts, namely Nar-to and Benal, were fine with this, as it allowed their matches to last longer. The more hits a fighter could take, the harder it was to guess who would win a match, and they could make more money on last-minute bets. Furthermore, they could secretly rig the matches by dosing one fighter, the underdog.

That as actually the case now. The Doctor, sitting in the shadow of Nar-to, observed the fruits of his labor, a modified version of BAC-9, hoping it would decrease the rage effect. So far there appeared hope. The dosed Nautolan was fighting viciously against his (human?) opponent, but that was to be expected in these sort of matches. However, there was still an element of logic behind the Nautolan's eyes, no bloodshot eyes veiling the bloodlust and rage unchecked. A good sign, in The Doctor's book.

[I wish you had this ages ago,] cackled Benal. [The Nautolan is keeping up with his opponent. The idiot keep thinking we'll let him go if he wins so many fights, but he's gotten too popular. However, with this being his fortieth, there have been a lot of betters on his side. Once he's defeated, we'll make a killing.]

The Doctor nodded in agreement. He was surprised his test subject wasn't soundly defeating his opponent, but it made sense if the opponent had a strong record. It appears the Hutt duo was taking advantage of the situation just like he was. Normally he wasn't a big fan of bloodsports; something he disagreed on with some of his Sith peers. But for test results? Oh, he would watch it with a careful eye.

@Braden

 

[Ryujin Izanagi]

Ryujin tried to calm himself with his breathing, pain was shooting through his body but he needed to silence it. The adrenaline that came with the pain helped and soon the pain was nothing but a side effect of the fight. He needed to control the distance, give himself time to recover slightly and get a grasp on how limiting this injury would be. This fight was not just about fists and knuckles and Ryujin sent out a quick snapping low kick towards the Nautolan’s leading leg. It caught the calf clean and forced the alien to pull back quickly out of range of any follow up shot.

They circled each other for about ten seconds, both out of range of the other. Ryujin took the initiative, moving in with a jab, blocked, but it was quickly followed up with another leg kick into the calf. The alien gritted his teeth in pain and in annoyance that he had left himself open for another attack. The strength of that punch had hurt Ryujin, he couldn’t take another one of them. So he had to eliminate this creature's strength, the best way is to chop down his legs.

Another kick, this time missed as the Nautolan lifted his leg up out of the way. He followed up with a wild right hook that Ryujin was just able to move his head out of the way from. The speed of the strike was mad, this boy was juiced that was for sure. He had seen him fight before and it was nothing like this. I mean juicing was not an abnormal thing to face in the pits, but normally they were told before. If not by the fighter themselves then the organiser, just watch the other fighters face when he told him his opponent was going to batter him.

@Dmitri

 

[Fidchell]

The Doctor took in the fight. His test subject's opponent...

"Kill the tentacle creep, Ryuujin! I got a week's pay riding on this! My girl will kill me if she finds out I bet this much again! Come on man, I need ya to win!" A man in the indiscriminate faceless crowd roared above the rest of the rabble.

Apparently the man's name was Ryuujin. He may have seen the name on a previous advert when he was visiting another client earlier in the week. The man was a credit to his species; The Doctor suspected human, but it was hard to tell. After the fight, The Doctor may request the man's body. It was a fine specimen, and could be used for experimentation.

The Nautolan - The Doctor never did hear what his name was and honestly it didn't matter - was beginning to gain the upper hand, beating harder on his opponent. The Nautolan had unleashed an intriguing punch, one typically harder for its species (The Doctor had used Nautolans before). The drug was doing its work, though still disappointing it couldn't soundly defeat this Ryuujin. Deep in his core, The Doctor felt something wasn't right. Intuition wasn't something as a scientist he typically listened to. But as a Sith? The Force was whistling something. He just couldn't tell what.

All he knew was something important was coming and tuning him to listen.

 

[Ryujin Izanagi]

The right hook was followed by a left, grazing the side of Ryujin’s face. That ‘feeling’ which had kept him alive for so long in the pits, had told him to shift his weight to his right. If he had followed his head he would probably be knocked out or worse, but over the years Ryujin had learned to trust this ‘feeling’.

Three quick steps pulled him out of range of any follow up attacks from the Nautolan. He needed the space to breathe and think about how best to take this alien down without being taken out with one blow. What did he have on the alien, definitely not power, their reach was about the same, the only thing was speed.

Feinting by dropping his right shoulder the Nautolan lunged forward with another stiff straight right. He felt the direction of the blow, Ryujin used this feeling to swiftly shift his body to the side and allow the fist to glide past. Countering with a short uppercut into the Nautolan’s jaw. It was a clean hit, but something refused to give in the alien. ‘What was in this juice?’ Ryujin thought as he danced away from a haymaker.

@Dmitri