Corellian Roulette is not the same without a gun

[Xel-Naga]

Worlport, Ord Mantell

The world at the bottom of a bottle was neither majestic or fulfilling. It was nothing more than a numb state of bitterness that only prolonged existence. The purpose was to make life acceptable until something better came along. However, extensive time spent in this state left it's denizens lost and alone, stumbling in a dark world neither trying to find escape or salvation. Too long in this limbo and you cannot leave. It devours you; sucking out the color and leaving you empty inside. A husk. You had to escape before you stayed too long, too deep. Sometimes, though, you wanted to.

The clink of glasses roused him from the darkness. Rough, calloused hands pushed against the edge of the bar, pulling his face off the once polished, now pot marked Nabooian wood. Gray eyes, blurred by sleep now focused. A half emptied glass came into focus alongside the pair of hands, each marked with tattoos identifying him as a member of Fierfek, a street gang on Nar Shaddaa. A gang from another lifetime, forgotten and lost to the greatest thief. Time. Tales of blood and horror that could only be found in the history logs. If anyone had bothered to write them down. Fingers found eyes and rubbed the last of the sleep from them, and then lifted to rub down the length of a shaven head before finally dropping to the bar top with a thump beside the half-empty glass.

Guess who who had two thumbs and was trapped on a piece of crap planet with hot cargo while surrounded by popo's? That's right. This guy...

His work with Black Sun was not what it had been. For awhile he had chased targets around the galaxy with Bambi at his side, and as much as he hated her very existence he could not deny that they had worked well together. Sure, they had tried to kill each other whenever the opportunity showed itself, but they had kicked plenty of other buttocks along the way. Now where was he? He was playing security for Black Sun smugglers instead. A glorified bodyguard was nothing compared to beating up thugs and goons for the money they owed the syndicate. He had taken the fight to some nasty people, and for all his trouble he was awarded this lousy job. Nothing like babysitting a bunch of pilots. The damn smugglers spent more time getting into trouble than trying to stay out of it. And now they had landed in the biggest jam at all. Xel was unsure what had happened, but Worlport was on lockdown. Some kind of explosion in the residential zone next to the space station. There were a lot of rumors from rebels to terrorists to an anarchist kid with green hair and an attitude.

Whatever had happened his ship had been stuck here for a week while they did an investigation, and he had spent that entire week getting hammered in this bar. The Hapan Princess was hardly a classy Coruscant nightclub, but it had hard liquor that made his brain go wawaweewa and shut down for the night. Good enough. He had already accepted his cargo being discovered by this investigation and him and his smuggler companions either going to prison or dying in a last stand firefight. However, they had hope. They had evidently arrived on the tail end of the investigation and might be able to avoid it all together. Here was hoping, but rather than trust a hope he had put all his hopes in the bottles he had spent his entire week draining.

He did not stand out too much in this place. The Hapan Princess was a little dingy and dark, and collected patrons of similar variety. Spacers, pilots, smugglers, bounty hunters, and other dregs of society. Xel had a penchant for attracting attention wherever he went; what with the tattoos, the ballistic body armor vest he was wearing, and the nasty scar alongside the left side of his head, a scar he gained at the edge of a broken bottle. However, in this den of thieves no one gave him a second look, unless it was to look him over for easily swiped personal items.

"Well I'm friggin sorry I chose this rock, okay? It was either here for Nar Shaddaa, and that place is a destitute hellhole. I wouldn't go near that place if I can help it. No sense in getting our ship dirty..."

On a normal day Xel would have completely ignored such an insult to his homeworld, but today he was grumpy from sleeping on the bar and mildly intoxicated. Turning in his seat he looked over at the speaker, a man sitting several seats down from him at the bar. "Schutta." Xel said, looking down at the man, who stopped mid sentence to gawk at Xel and then turned back to his drinking companion. The two looked like trash pilots, probably flying cargo shipments to outer-rim planets. Infuriated, Xel stood up from his seat, a little shaky at first, and stepped toward the two gentlemen, his heavy boots marking his approach. The two men turned as he arrived. "Maybe you didn't hear me, buddy, but I said schutta."

"I'm not your buddy, friend. Frak off."

There was just no holding it back. Three drinks too many and now he was throwing punches, knocking the arrogant kung out of his seat and on to the floor. Xel bent down and grabbed the man by his collar, pulling him up enough that he could look the man in the eye. "I'm not your friend, guy." And then punched him again, putting him back down in the floor. The other man came at Xel, punching him in the face and causing Xel to stumble back, right into another patron, knocking his drink into another. Xel's hand almost jumped to the blaster on his hip, but he missed the handle in his daze and instead stumbled toward his attacker, who was a smaller man. It was not hard for the alcohol and rage fueled enforcer to check the man into the bar and then pick him up and toss him over it.

The sound of fighting brought his attention around to the rest of the bar, where the patrons he had knocked into each other were also going at it now. As fights caused more damage to the surrounding area more fights broke out and soon the entire room was brawling. Already Xel found himself in another scrap with a random patron. This was not exactly his idea of laying low, but it beat drinking alone.

[Zenas Codrey]

Zenas didn't like bars. They were eternally crowded places, and it made him nervous to be surrounded by so many strange people. He hunched on his stool and stared at the array of full shot glasses in front of him. He'd wanted to blend in here, so he'd ordered a few shots like one of the people down the bar, but he couldn't bring himself to drink them. He wanted clarity of mind in case of an altercation. He wanted all his motor skills in case he needed to fight or flee more bounty hunters. So far, he hadn't needed his fighting prowess, and the shots tempted him.

He picked one up at last and stared at it, then shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and had the wind immediately knocked out of him as the bar brawl swelled against his back and punched his diaphragm against the bar's edge. The shot glass skittered away and shattered on the bar's far side. The sound of it satisfied something in Zenas's soul. It was the sound of a poor distraction being supplanted by a better one. The Togruta stood, whirled around his stool and knifed the edge of his left palm at the neck of Xel Naga.

[Xel-Naga]

Knuckles to the job were a rude greeting, one that sent Xel stumbling back as another brawler attacked him. This one was not so drunk as the last and would have put up a decent fight if Xel was not such a dirty fighter. A distracting and exaggerated draw back of his arm stole his opponents attention enough for him to instead kick the man square in his man bits. Normally a debilitating attack all in itself, the cybernetics used to repair his legs a year prior had given his legs a little extra kick. The result was a man who would have to achieve puberty again.

Leaving the crumpled man to contemplate his chance at ever having children, Xel stumbled back towards the bar, only to get bowled over by a hit to his neck. Stumbling, again, Xel fell to a knee as he caught the edge of a chair to steady himself and turned to face a Togruta male he had not seen there. Rubbing his neck with one hand while pulling himself up with the other, he leaned back against the seat and stared down his attacker. "Your gonna be all kinds of uglier when I'm through with you, boy." He said as he moved against his opponent with a strong right swing.

[Zenas Codrey]

Zenas smiled. It was an expression full of fangs and malice, but the laugh that followed it was almost...happy. Yes, a fight with nothing on the line, where he could count his bruises, scrapes, and cuts out later without having to worry if they'd slow him escape from a pursuit.

"Oh, ho, ho," he replied as his laugh edged off. "Try as hard as you can!" He deflected the right-handed punch with his left, then snapped in with that same arm to strike with his wrist at Xel's sternum, keeping his right arm up for defense.

[Xel-Naga]

Xel's heavy handed boxing style relied more on upper body strength and hitting the guy harder, sooner, than anything else. All that fancy blocking and dancing around some not something he relied on. Rather, he relied on typically being bigger than anyone he brawled with, being stronger, and by fighting dirty. Your average fighter never remembers the importance of fighting now with just your fists and feet, but also your knees, elbows, forehead, and teeth. However, Xel was equally unprepared to deal with his own attacks being deflect and as his obvious punch went sailing away it was turned aside by the Togruta and a counter attack came unexpected as it hit him in the chest. However, the impact was dampened by the existence of the armor jacket he was wearing. While built to turn away knives and slow blaster burn, the precious life vest was also a hard surface and a fist was a soft, squishy thing.

Regardless, the force of the hit made him take a step back. Using the backward momentum he put another step between him and his opponent before launching himself forward again. Obviously his opponent was the faster, more agile of the two, so Xel was going to try a gambit and just smother the guy into submission. With his center of body lowered and turned he had every intention of ramming his shoulder into the guy to knock him over and then using his bulky size to pin him down. Then the beat down would commence.

[Zenas Codrey]

Zenas shook out his arm as Xel stepped back. Whatever his armor was, it was made of sterner stuff than the flimsy white shells that comprised Stormtrooper armor. He'd crushed and shattered so much of it he'd barely thought twice about bringing his Force-enhanced blows to bear on Xel. He'd have to focus on joints and the face if he were going to do damage without a weapon, or else procure a piece of furniture or something to use as a weapon. He wouldn't risk his lightsaber--at least, not yet.

Zenas didn't like fighting styles that relied too much on jumping, spinning, or misdirection. He much preferred straightforward tactics, like his Form V lightsaber work. By the look of Xel's next rush, Zenas decided the human man was a kindred spirit in that regard. So he dug his heels in, planting himself, and with the Force as his ally reached out and stopped Xel cold at arm's length, then stepped in to strike with his knee at Xel's side.

[Xel-Naga]

Superior strength and size had won him many a battle, but not today. His bullrush was caught short as the smaller alien stopped him. It was like nothing Xel had ever experienced before. Everything in his brain told him this was not right. He should have been thrown off balance at the least, giving Xel the upperhand he needed to knock him down and pin him to the floor of the bar. A sound beating should have been taking place but instead he was feeling a little bruised where the alien's hands had touched him.

In this new disadvantage there was nothing Xel could do as the man counter-attacked with a knee strike that caught Xel in the side. The blow caused his core to go taunt and pull toward the injury. It hurt. Blazes it did. His armor was fine for bullets and lasers, even a knife, but a blow was still going to bruise as the flesh underneath still received most of the force through the reinforced material. Engraged, Xel struck out, his fists flying with the form and power of a practiced shock boxer. These were not gentle blows anymore, but the kind that broke eye sockets and cracked ribs. If he could not subdue his opponent he would break him asunder. A right jab flew at the side of his opponent's face, intend on catching him on the ear and giving him enough head trauma to either kill him or disorient. His left hand stayed close to his body for protection.

[Zenas Codrey]

Zenas snapped his fist out to close Xel's windpipe with a throat strike and end the whole fiasco right there, but the drunk was tougher than he looked. Xel straightened and made his next move, balancing his offense and defense like a proper fighter. Blow and counter-blow were stopped, and Zenas sneered in the one-second space between the two men coming back to their stances and attacking again.

"Just fall down," he warned, moving a half-pace in toward Xel to let a beer can hurtle through the air behind him and kicking low at Xel's knee.

[Xel-Naga]

"I'll fall down when... um, I'm good and ready to!" He returned, so caught up with finishing his sentence that he failed to see the incoming attack through the drunken haze. He meant to step back out of it. He was far too heavy a man to nimbly jump over it after all, but instead he just kind of shuffled backwards, took the hit, and lost the balance on his leg. The blow may have broken a mortal knee, but Xel's reconstructed legs were made a little bit tougher. Which explained the price tag he was still paying off.

Shifting his weight to his other leg he half stumbled, half hopped backwards, losing so much ground that he ran into the unmoving object that is the bar. His knee was on fire, and he did not trust his entire weight on it. That meant moving less. He was not enjoying the direction this fight was going. His opponent had yet to take a blow and he was taking everything sent his way. At the rate he was going this fight was going to be over in ten minutes or less. He wanted to go for his blaster, but in this crowded place he was much more likely to hit one of the other brawlers and not his direct opponent.

Pushing off the bar he crept toward his opponent again, keeping both arms up this time. Going on the defensive. His intention, this time around, was to hopefully block an attack and then counter with a blow of his own. It was unlikely to succeed but all his other methods of fighting had not gotten him anywhere.

[Zenas Codrey]

Zenas went on full offense, hammering blows all over Xel's defensive stance. Whether he hit the man's body or arms didn't matter. Zenas was applying more Form V; specifically, the idea that simply battering one's defense until it disintegrated was a valid option. If he broke through Xel's guard and hit his body, fine. If he broke Xel's arms in that attempt, he'd take that, too. So long as the man went down and didn't stand up again.

[Xel-Naga]

Curling his head in behind his arms, Xel did his best to move with the blows, positioning his forearms in the path of each blow and dodging any that he could get away from. Each connected blow sent a shockwave through his body, and with it each blow took him back to his younger years. After the Thaw. He had spent some time in the underground shock boxing arenas. Not the safe kind. No. These were the kind of high bets fights that had to end in either a crippling injury or a death. Two men enter. Only one leaves under the power of his own legs. Even with all those experiences, he had never experienced anything like this alien he was fighting. The guy was unstoppable. An unrelenting force that refused to lose. Even with his unmovable stubbornness, Xel was unable to withstand this hurricane.

Each blow battered him around like a starship in a black hole. He could not even keep track of the blows anymore. The constant hits were jarring his head too much, and his vision was going straight to hell. Finally his resolve weakened and a blow made it through his arms and hit him straight in the chest. The blow had enough force to knock him back, causing him to bounce off the bar again, but this time he lost his footing and his legs slipped out from under his. Dropping him on his buttocks with his back up against the underside of the bar. His bruised arm reached for his blaster, but he could not grip it. His fingers were numb and unresponsive.

He'd felt helpless like this before. When Bambi's snake paralyzed him, and again after Kasajian had him thrown out the window, breaking every bone in his legs and forcing him to endure ridicule from Bambi while he recovered in a hospital bed. Maybe this time he would finally die.

Shame he had to do it sober.

[Zenas Codrey]

Zenas stopped the assault as Xel fell to the floor, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet and preparing to step up and finish what he'd started. He lowered his right arm and shook it, dislodging his lightsaber from its makeshift holster in his long sleeve, palming the weapon as Xel went for his blaster. The enforcer failed to draw the sidearm, and Zenas dropped his aggressive stance entirely.

The Togruta stood by with a frustrated expression. What now!? He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a fight that wasn't to the death. Should he just knock this guy out? Should he kill the poor bastard anyway? Was it worth risking investigation by local authorites, however corrupt they may be?

Zenas stepped backward two paces, then turned and made his way out through the brawl.

[Xel-Naga]

There was nothing Xel could do but look up at his opponent. The man pulled a weapon as Xel went for his, but he could not make out what it was. Something cylinder. A bomb, perhaps? Regardless, the alien pulled away and then ran off toward the entrance to the bar. Only now did Xel notice all the brawling going on. Too many ship captains kept from they're jobs made them all grumpy and everyone was itching for a fight. Xel had just been unlucky enough to get into a brawl with someone who could kick his ass.

Rolling over, Xel slowly pushed himself up on his knees and then stood up using the bar as support until he was upright enough to walk. He stumbled into the back of the bar, using the backdoor to escape before the authorities showed up. The last thing he needed was for his Black Sun cohorts to have to come bust him out of this place for something as silly as a bar brawl. For now he would just lay low and wait for the spaceport to open up against so he could continue his operation.