Ean Stenner vs Cas Tarshann

(((I hope it's okay I picked a planet...
Also, I brought Cas in, if it's okay, so that we can get to the action right away.)))


The Corellian bounty hunter known the galaxy around as Ean Stenner still couldn't put his finger on a clear reason for why he was where he was. He had been passing through, between bounties, and had already spent some time satisfying his male needs, needs he ignored for the betterment of his job. But now, it was late, and being that there wasn't a whole lot of action to be had on Tatooine, legal action that is, the man had found himself wandering the deserted desert streets.

He couldn't remember which city or town he was in; more then likely it was one of those temporary deals, sprung up in times of plenty, with beings of all kinds of various occupations trying to take advantage of their peers and off-worlders alike, and most of the time succeeding. First Ean had stopped in a small cantina for some grub and a drink, satisfying a more urgent need, before engaging a young woman down the street and off a dark alley. And now, he was back outside again, in the dark, looking for some other way to spend his time, use up all his pent-up energy still bottled inside from the long job he had just completed. It all worked out for him; to keep his focus on the task at hand, he shut every other system down. And though he usually ended up with a lot stored inside, he knew he would eventually finish, get paid, and have a lot of free time on himself to equalize.

Ean had heard the commotion up ahead before he had turned the corner. Shouts and screams perked his ears and started up his blood. Something with potential was in that building. But it all turned out to be different than expected. Instead of finding beings brawling with each other, he found beings yelling and screaming at small birds pecking at each other. All in all, Ean thought the practice was stupid. Why some beings got off on something like that was beyond his simple mind. And yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the crazy spectacle.

Seconds, minutes went by as he watched various pairs shoved into the arena, their owners and friends exchanging credits by the handful. Ean wasn't really the betting type and stood out in the back, preferring just to watch for a while. Hoping that just being motionless and enjoying the base entertainment would calm him enough to be able to sleep. Or perhaps at least scan the crowd for another female's companionship. The last hadn't been nearly satisfying enough, giving him reason to be here in this darkened building in the first place.

Eventually the last fight was over, and Ean felt no better for the hour or two he had wasted while watching the battles. The battered birds were dragged off by their masters as everyone else filed out. No one really noticed him as they walked past him, counting credits and discussing particular matches from the night. The darkness could have aided this, or maybe they felt there was something intimidating about his large figure. It didn't matter to the Corellian.

Just as quickly as one of the birds had been felled, the place was empty, void of any noise or being except for Ean, who was still standing towards the back near a wall. Deciding what to do next, and instead walking slowly towards the dueling area, curious about what had gone on there, whether it was real as it looked.

That was when he heard it, while still half in shadow, a boot scraping the duracrete floor. He was not alone. Suddenly all his senses were on alert, and he was pulled into his work mode, his ears tracking around the room as if he were trailing a bounty. The leftover adrenaline still packed inside of himself was making him extra edgy. Normally calm and deadly serious, he felt jittery as he scanned the darkened room illuminated by only a scant security globes. Ean listened as he stood as still as he could, all of his muscles humming with energy and anticipation. Something had to happen soon, or he might come unhinged. It hadn't happened very often--he was careful to control himself and not to arrive into these situations--but when it did, the other being had to watch out.

Deciding to keep walking towards the center ring, senses dulled and turned into something more resembling tunnel vision by the rush of chemicals, Ean came out of the shadows, hoping whoever was in here with him would do the same. Another scuff of a booted foot, and the other being came into the sparse light. A little bit of surprise came to his face as he noticed it was a Cerean, perhaps ten, twenty years older than himself. Shorter and lighter than the Corellian. But Ean wasn't a new youngling either and knew that appearances could be deceiving. This Cerean had stayed behind for a reason, and he wanted to find out what. In a little bit of a creative way of course.

With a grin that was not meant to be completely friendly, Ean continued on to the ring, tossed off his worn leather jacket and boots, and slipped inside before looking at his new companion. Having come to the conclusion that this fellow had stayed behind for more than just looking at the pretty duracrete around the space, he was preparing himself. And with the sense that comes with something already a little less gifted on the intelligence scale and paired with pent-up aggression and adrenaline, Ean was jumping way out on a limb, a long, thin, cracking one. His confidence with his training and experience was over-weighing any possible consequences or other reasons that the Cerean was there. He needed to fight. And soon, before he just exploded. "Come on, big brain. Come on and join me. Or I'll make you pay for the view."

Jumping up and down a bit, he tested the buoyancy of the mat, keeping the balls of his feet ready and easily sliding into a defensive stance. Though he had been trained in various martial arts, over the years he had blended them all into a sort of grab-bag of moves. This was something that only served to aid him, as any opponents had no idea which system he was using. With only trousers, shirt, and socks, he would still be formidable. And if this guy didn't hurry up, Ean would go and drag him into the ring. He was too far committed to this now to give up. The outlet was there, and the Corellian wasn't about to let it close.

The dusty arid land of Tatooine was a despicable place. Full of the grungiest of the grungy, the lowest of the low and the most foul creatures to ever infect the galaxy. There was profit to be had in eliminating these individuals. Profit that could be used to further the business. That, and such contracts usually sated Cas's adventure-lust.

So here he stood, having trailed his "dead or alive" target Ean Stenner to a pretty little arena. The irony. The young man didn't seem to realize that as he watched two animals fight, soon, he would be just as they are. A caged animal forced into a fight for his life, yet he was currently blissfully unaware. Such a beautiful thing could not last, nothing gold can stay, as it were.

After but a few mere hours, the patrons began filing out of the building, yet Tarshann stayed. Curiously enough, Stenner did the same. As a matter of fact, he began walking toward the arena. As he eyed the situation, Cas took a mental inventory. He was not one to be unprepared. He wore his suit that he typically wore to such mercenary occasions. The suit was quite flexible and gave a very desirable range of motion. It was a durable suit, capable of taking quite a beating. If this fellow wanted a fist fight, he would be doing more harm to himself than Cas, with the exception of his unprotected face. He'd have to watch for that. Also with Cas was his trusty Mizrah Asp, a sleek professional 10mm slugthrower, clasped at the hip. This young tyke was in over his head.

Cas began to make his way towards the arena. He hadn't been noticed, standing in the corner outside the arena. As he moved, he saw that Ean noticed immediately. The Corellian must have been pumped after the fight, his senses still going. That was good. So were Cas's. That's when he was noticed.

Ean clambered into the ring and began to taunt him, painting a target to his chest. Cas wasn't about to simply shoot the fellow, that would have been too easy. Instead he decided to take the young buck's challenge, and climbed into the ring himself.

Now, the large and imposing Corellian appeared quite strong and formidable. He also stood posed for combat in a stance that revealed that the fellow knew what he was doing. Cas was not untrained in the arts himself, the Black Circle Mercenaries had made sure of that, the style he employed relied on trickery, moreso than brute, and the use of dodging in ways that allowed him to call upon a trusty lethal projectile dispenser. Now, this was all hypothetical and the tactics did not rely solely on such things, but none could never be sure.

Well, well, a bold one, eh? Such a curse can be remedied with a little discipline.

Cas walked up to the fellow, who stood a good 3 inches above him, and took his own stance. He eyed Ean for a moment, analyzing him. He was in over his head physically, but that was what made it challenging. He would need cunning and sharp wits to defeat such an opponent. With as void an environment as this was, this was going to put him to the test.

Without warning Cas struck out for Ean's face, jabbing right then left. He stayed loose on his feet, attempting to anticipate any counter-attack. After his one-two punches, he ducked low and tried to sweep Ean's legs, hoping to gain some advantage on him. The blood was pumping now. Perhaps Tatooine was good for something. Turning scum-bags into punching-bags...