The First Rule... {Rugs}

[Moonfire]

Click. Click. Click. The sounds echoed through the brightly lit hallway, heeled boots clattering against the polished floor with each step Kailani took.

Kailani Quix was feeling delightfully ridiculous as she walked down the long corridor towards the large elevator. Over sized black sunglasses obscured her face, large and angular pair of reflective parallelograms resting on the bridge of her nose.

Her long white blonde hair was teased and piled up into a pair of massive ponytails that tumbled about her face in thick, voluminous curls. Clad in a clingy black dress, held together by only the slightest ties and bows. Though the most interesting part of this ensemble was her favorite 'accessory'.

A long shining silver chain was clutched loosely in her hand as she carefully lead the impressive Echani specimen at her side. As the pair entered the massive that would take them down to the holding cells. They were spacious and borderline luxurious, with precious metals adorning the sides. If not for the small pool of blood and the occasional smears of crimson hand prints on the sides you could almost convince yourself this was a high class place. And in some ways it was. This place catered to the very rich, but dealt with the very corrupt.

Kai looked over at Asyr, tilting the large glasses to peer at him.

"You ready for this, Sir Sex-a-Lot?" She asked, her icy face melting into a grin, using one of the names they had debated earlier in the evening. "I've got like 100k in credits ridin' on you, so you better make a damn good show." She said with a wink. Of course, the credits she had bet didn't actually exist, she got through the gates with few questions after giving the name of a well known Corellian Noble at the door. Names like that always carried a bit of weight.

Sure, if they ended up losing they'd be a little... trouble. But who ever though that far ahead?

The information the pair had gotten on an illegal fight club under Prazhi had ended up true, and in it, Kai and Asyr had found a... unique business opportunity. If by business opportunity one meant a place where the stakes were high, heads would be smashed and Kailani could dress up, then yes, it was certainly a unique business opportunity.

As the elevator dinged to a stop, Kailani righted her glasses, face returning to a stoic stare as they entered the massive arena. The crowd thundered in the stands around them as the first couple matches had already started. A Wookie yelled out as a particularly monstrous looking reptilian man went for his throat, the crowd cheering and screaming.

"Come on, Fihir, lets quick some ass."

[Rugs]

{writing with a cold! It makes life fun >_> right?}

For someone who'd lived a life full of odd twists, turns, and misadventures, Asyr figured he would have been used to some of the strange things he found ways to get himself caught up in. In many ways he was used to them, he supposed. He barely lifted a brow these days when the Bohemian docked with some unprepared vessel for plundering. He'd been in more fights than he could count, and handled most of them with a professional sort of excitement, not the wild, wide-eyed frenzy of a man who'd never fought a day in his life before. Hold-ups, heists, mutinies, smuggling runs, shootout, terror attacks, he'd been through them all and more.

Well, perhaps he gave himself a bit too much credit. All of those things brought some excitement of course; they would to any living thing with a pulse.

But this... This was something he hadn't done before. He was confident, and he was quite eager.

"Mmm, look at that one," a feminine voice whispered from not too far away. He could hear more voice whispering back as he passed by. The corner of his lip pulled up just slightly into a smirk as he walked. Asyr would take advantage of the moment, see who would bite. But Fihir? Fihir was a slave, and Fihir had come to fight.

So on he went, following her into the elevator with his eyes kept to the front as he was lead along by the thin silver chain that hooked onto the end of the smooth silver collar around his neck.

At the other end of the chain was a hand, and that hand belonged to one Kailani Quix. She was Asyr's partner in this particular venture, as well as several other less than appropriate ones that they'd taken part in and were likely to continue doing. Of course, tonight, she wasn't Kailani, or Miss Kai, as he so often called her. No, tonight she was Ariana Neminos, and had a very large amount of money riding on the night's events.

The chain that dangled from her fingers also made her his owner.


Asyr liked their little scheme. Sneak their way into a fight ring for slaves as people that didn't exist and make themselves some money. And with a slave that was in truth an exceptionally-skilled fighter with decades of training, well the odds were good.

"Sir Sex-a-lot?" He muttered back to her with a laugh as he glanced down at her. "Much as you liked that one, I don't think it's fittin'." A mischievous smile curled his lips up and his silver-blue eyes glinted devilishly. "Not for the ring, anyway."

Kailani was dressed as fit her role and assumed station, and rather attractively, as a Asyr thought. So too was he. He was bare above the waist save for some rope tied around his upper arms in knots that let the frayed ends hang down, and gauze wrapped around his hands and wrist. He wore simple pants that were a little baggy and some nondescript shoes.

Ping!

The elevator opened, and Asyr allowed himself a final eager grin before he became Fihir again. Beyond them stood the arena, lit by bright lights that hung down from the ceiling. The crowd watched from stands that surrounded it, and higher up were luxury suites for the wealthiest of the wealthy.

The place was loud. A match was already in progress, as two particularly large combatants battled it out. Looks like fun, he mused to himself as he followed Kai.

"As you wish, my lady," he said to Kai, but his voice didn't hold the expected deference of a slave speaking to his master. Here, where the crowd couldn't hear, he spoke as a Asyr, though his body language remained that of Fihir.

Before he could say more, he noticed a short, balding man with glasses that were too small for his face rushing up to them. "There! There! You with the Echani!" He came up to them, fumbling around with a datapad in his hand. As he looked Asyr over, then Kailani. "Properly restrained, good condition... you brought him to fight, yes?" The glasses slipped down his nose as he looked up at Kailani over the top of them. "You gotta confirm him here before he can fight, and sign a waiver. Can't go blamin' us if somethin' happens to 'im and he's actually someone else's.

"So come on, come on," he went on, thrusting the datapad and stylus up at Kai, "hurry up. Looks likes a good one. Need to get him to fightin'."

[Moonfire]

"Sir Sex-a-lot?" His laughter was soft, barely a whisper under his breath as he spoke. Surveying him from over the glasses, Kailani repressed a smile. An effort to be in character, even in this moment of privacy.

"Much as you liked that one, I don't think it's fittin'. Not for the ring, anyway." Asyr said with a nonchalant grin that caused the corners of Kai's lips to twitch up into a cheshire grin of her own, breaking the stoic facade she'd been building up since entering the dark alley beneath the club that concealed the arena.

Her eyes ran over his choice of attire, a simple pair of shorts, shirtless and intimidating beyond belief with a bod like that. The ropes were a nice touch too. Asyr certainly roughed up well.

"What can I say? You have to admit it has a nice ring to it." Winking at him as the elevator pinged, her face falling in time with the soft ping back to a vacant sort of disgust as she stepped out.

It wasn't long before the director of the matches approached her, recognizing the type instantly, thrusting out datapads, mouth spewing words in a torrent at her. She rolled her eyes with an audible grabbing the datapad, flicking her stylus across it in a blur, edgy and angular signatures glowing on the screen. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." She muttered impatiently.

"Fihir, get this out of my face." Throwing the datapad in air, not caring if the hapless event organizer managed to catch it or not. "Quit wasting my time, I need to get to the Key Club before the next match starts. " Kailani said with a sneer at the shorter man, green eyes glaring over the tops of the glasses that perched carefully on the tip of her nose.

The Key Club added another element to the evenings events. The upper most boxes in the stadium was reserved for members of the elite upper class, some nobles, others corrupt crime lords. It was an invitation only club, one could come only as a member themselves, or the guest of one. Kailani was, predictably, neither.

But, if things went her way she'd be up there within moments.
Shaded eyes looked over the group of people that flooded to and from elevators, changing seats and procurring drinks, looking for the right victim as she awaited Asyr's enrollment process to finish.

[fawx]

Fawkes rarely accepted the gifts of his clients. He knew from experience that any gift from a criminal was a double-edged sword. A prime example was when Fawkes was blackmailed by a holovid of the echani sleeping with an assortment of twilek slaves who were a “gift”. Fortunately Fawkes’ only loyalty was to himself and put the holovid in pride and place on the wall of one of his many Cantina’s back in Nar Shaddaa, along with the head of that particullar Bothian who tried to blackmail him. However this gift was different.

One of Fawkes clients had asked the Collective for quite a large order of slaves. Being a slave-trader, Fawkes was at first sceptical of someone he didn’t know but after the credits were put in his bank account and the client told him he was working for the owners of the Prazhi fight club, Fawkes had been more than happy to oblige. The lower tiers of Nar Shaddaa were a little quieter after Fawkes and his men had taken every vagrant and refugee they could find and shipped them off to Prazhi to become gladiators.

As a thank you, they had asked Fawkes to come as a guest, and it wasn’t an offer he could refuse lightly. Any crime-lord worth their salt knew about the Prazhi fight club, and the invitation-only key club that watched the fights from above. If Fawkes made the right “friends” in the Key Club, then he would finally be able to leave his swoop racing days behind and ascend to the top of the Criminal elite.

Fawkes’ journey was tediously long but uneventful, and once he had docked a servant of his client had led him on to a shuttle straight to the fight club. Fawkes was still unused to luxury after his days living on the streets of Nar Shaddaa and was initially blown away by how ostentatious the Key Club was. In the centre was a large round bar made of black marble with golden embodied edges. Holo screens were fitted onto the surface of the bar so that the crime-lords and royalty that came to this place could place their bets whilst ordering their drinks. A huge chandelier was perched precariously in the centre of the room above the bar, sending sparks of light dancing across the dark, Wroshyr wood floor. There was no wall on the right side of the club; instead a long plane of glass was set at an angle so that the members of the key club could view the fights without having to risk getting blood on their designer dresses and robes.

Fawkes had not even made it to the bar before being dragged over to dance with someone from the minor royalty of the royal family of Zeltros. He initially met her advances courteously, but when he learnt that she only held a title and not any real power, Fawkes had managed to wrestle himself away. He was not here to mingle, but to find contacts. The Echani ordered a Juma juice and sat in a crimson armchair in one of the more shadowy corners of the club. Fawkes preferred not to think of what exotic or extinct creature he was sitting on, but he was now in a perfect position to both view the fights whilst still giving him the opportunity to observe the room and look for anyone who could be of use to him and his Collective.

[Rugs]

"Hey! Wait!" The short man fumbled around with the datapad as it was tossed back to him, struggling to pluck it from the air with his stubby little fingers. He did manage to grab it before it clattered to the ground, though Asyr had to concentrate mightily to keep from laughing aloud at the pitiful effort. Asyr might not have a problem with laughing, but it would just be unbecoming of Fihir, docile slave that he was in all places that weren't arenas.

"Now you wait just one minute!" The little man cried as Kai began to walk off to find take her place among the spectators. Red flushed his face as he took a waddling step after her, only to be stopped short by the hand that Asyr reached out and put on his shoulder.

The little man growled and looked up at Asyr. "You! Move out of the way! I'm gonna-!" He tried to push himself forward, but his efforts gained him nothing. Asyr simply held him at arm's length, not budging an inch. He honestly couldn't tell if it was so easy because he was so strong or if the man was merely weak. Probably both. Bet this little runt doesn't do a bit more than he has to most days.

"Move, damn you," he yelled. For all his yelling and tantrum throwing, Asyr just stood there, holding him back and staring at him blankly. Finally, when it became apparent to the little man that he wouldn't be bothering Kailani further, he threw his hands up in frustration and yelled curses about stubborn bloody slaves.

Asyr would've cold clocked him. Fihir simply stood quietly and waited for the silly tantrum to finish.

"Fine, fine! You wanna be stubborn, we can be stubborn." Fat fingers fumbled around with a comm for a moment. "Someone get this slave down below and out into the arena! St- No, I don't care if another one is lined up to figh- Look, put them both on a team then! Two on one. We have a stubborn one that needs breaking in."

Asyr lifted a brow. Two on one? Maybe the fight would be something approaching fair.

A few moments later a pair of handlers arrived and whisked him away. He was taken down below the arena floor to the bloodworks, where the other 'gladiators' waited for their matches. It was dimly lit and the floors were as rough and grimy as some of the slaves kept below; a far cry from the opulent seating some of their masters were staying in, but why should it matter? They were animals to be bet on. Objects for entertainment, nothing more.

As he was led through, a few ground rules were laid out for him. There weren't many, but the most important one was that killing, with the exception of special death matches, was quite forbidden. Matches were ended by submission by one combatant, or they would forcefully be closed when a winner was obvious. He simply nodded and grunted that he understood.

It didn't take long for him to get to the gate. The arena floor lay before him, empty for the time being.
"You musta pissed the little boss man off somethin' fierce," one of his handlers said as they waited for the gate to open. "Havin' to fight two on your first match." He wheezed a laugh. "Even if they ain't the best, that's downright cruel. Just try to make a fight of it, eh." The gate hissed and slid open. The handler shoved Asyr forward and shouted after him. "There's people payin' to be entertained, after all!"

We'll see, Asyr thought with a little smirk.

The round arena before him was empty. There were bloodstains all around it, and he saw glimpses of himself on one of the massive screens that hung above it. The lights were harsh, and bright, leading him to believe he must have cast an impressive figure with the way light and shadow played over his striated muscle. Kailani would approve, surely.

"Stepping into the arena," he heard an announcer's voice over speakers, "we have a new gladiator! Fihir!" There was dull applause, but interested anticipation seemed to hang in the air more than anything.

"For Fihir's first match, we have decided to give you all a special treat, and a prime opportunity to see what the new fighter's made of! For this fight, we give you a two on one special, as Fihir takes on two opponents!"

The crowd went wild.

Excited to see me crushed, Asyr thought. His eyes flickered up to the luxury seating, wondering where Kailani was. You better bet well, Kai. Get us some money.

[Moonfire]

Kailani didn't give a single backward glance as the hulking Echani stopped the sputtering coordinator in his tracks. A grin broke free, stretching wide across her face before disappearing beneath the stoic demeanor. While Asyr dealt his part, the bashing of skulls and what not, Kai had a little job herself.

Following the rushing crowds of people, Kailani weaved through the groups, eyes carefully scanning the sort of patrons this place attracted. People of all walks of life seemed to flood the underground staduim, stretching from the drunken poverty stricken, desperate to find their lucky break, to the incredibly wealthy looking for a distraction of the daily pressures of their immensely important lives. It was, in short, the sort place you could lose yourself in.

The sounds of the match seemed to rumble through the floor as the Wookie cried out in agony. Kai couldn't see through the dense crowd enough to see what had happened, but a cry like couldn't mean good news.

"Good thing I didn't bet on that one, eh?" Said one man to another, elbowing his buddy as they reached the elevator that would take them to the proper level. "Yeh, right. Ye'll see, Ole Shaggy'll pull though. All ways does." responded his companion, a little defensively. The pair entered their elevator, the lingering stench of cheap beer left behind as Kailani considered her next course of action.

The goal; get into the Key Club in time for Asyr's first match... Which with the Wookie near defeat looked like it was going to be a bit of a challenge. Turning about she surveyed her options. The Key Club elevator was obvious, larger and much more ornate than the others, the very wealthy always had fondness for rubbing that sort of thing in. Salt in the wound for the poor, or something. To one side of the elevator was a gaggle of woman pouring over a particulary nasty looking bouncer, begging to be let onto the lift. Golddiggers for sure. The Twi'lek wasn't impressed, ignoring the pleading women.

Wiping her long curls over her shoulder, Kailani approached, heels clicking with every step. A rather petit woman, she had to look up to meet his eyes. With a flourish Kailani took off her sunglasses, jade eyes staring up into his.

"Well, sir, I think we both know what I'm after here." She said, resting an elbow on the datapad clutched in his hands.

"Miss, if you're not a member, or the guest of a member, I'm afraid you won't be coming up stairs." He said, not even meeting her eyes, staring straight ahead.

"Is there anything... anything I can do to change your mind on that one?" Kailani asked, staring up, innocent face pleading as he arms crossed gently over chest.

With a sigh the Twi'lek man let in group of people, their platinum cards shown for a brief second as they boarded. "No m'am. Not a chance."

A sigh escaped Kailani's lips as she pressed closer to the Bouncer, a look of visible disgust over his face.

"Well... If thats the case, I must apologize for what I'm about to do next."

"Wha-?"

In a blur Kailani reached out, grabbing the bright blue lekku in a merciless hand, yanking the man down to her level. "Sorry, mate. I'm sure you understand." She said as her knee slammed forward, mashing into the bouncer's crotch.

A cry of pain escaped the male's lips as he fell forward. In that moment Kailani jumped past him, the lift's doors closing just as she slipped in, her hair nearly caught in the closing doors. The other patrons eyeballing her with a wary look. Not a single word was said on that ride up.

[fawx]

Out of the comfort of a red leather armchair, the Echani let out an audible sigh. A few patrons glanced in Fawkes direction only to keep on turning at the icy glare that he was throwing at them.

He had been here more than an hour eavesdropping on conversations, trying to find someone who was worth his time but he had found no one that could contribute anything to his cause. Just a hundred spoilt aristocrats from a dozen different star systems, come to spend daddies credits.

That was until the turbo-lift dinged. Bored with betting on the contestants below, Fawkes had took to watching the gold lined turbo-lift that seemed to keep spewing countless species of nobles into the key club. What was different about this particular group was the look of controlled fear on their faces with some literally speed walking away from the elevator the moment it opened. Others tried to maintain an aura of calm as sweat dropped down their faces as they clambered into the next lift going down.

A small, silver haired girl was the only one left in the lift and she slowly made her way towards the bar. Surely it wasn't this Innocent looking girl who had caused such a panic? her sunglasses reflected the open-mouthed expressions back at their owners, as they happened to catch a glance of the tiny piece of black fabric that was trying (and failing) at hiding her bombshell body.

Whoever this girl was who could cause such a difference in a room so quickly, was someone Fawkes wanted to meet. The Echani rose from his seat and coolly made his way over to the bar and ordered a Juma Juice and casually put five hundred credits on the next contestant, some Fihir, and waited for the stunning silver haired girl to make her way to the bar.

[Rugs]

Asyr waited. The crowd continued to roar. What are they waiting on? He looked around irritably, wondering why he'd been brought out so early if he was just going to be made to wait. Even an introduction didn't take this long. Was it so they could see him? He was a tall, ripped Echani. And a slave, with the silver collar still clasped around his neck.

What else was there to see? At least this oughta give Kai enough time to get up there and put some creds down on me, he thought with an irritated grunt as he folded his arms over his thick chest. Damn well better, with as long as they're takin'.

As time crawled by, he looked around the arena. It was still bare. Nothing to get caught on, no pits. Nothing to use in the fights beyond skill, strength, and raw brutality. He could work with that.

Eventually, he glanced up at one of the large screens that hung down over the arena. There was a countdown running along the bottom, beneath the profile of his face and the shot of the arena itself. Five minutes.

Five.

Minutes.

It was enough to make him want to kick something. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything around to kick, and mild-mannered Fihir wouldn't do such a thing anyway, so he just had to petulantly stand and wait. He was starting to feel bad for whatever louts he was getting put up against.

Where are they, anyway? Why am I the only one out here?

As if cued by his thoughts, the gate on the other side of the arena hissed loudly and slid open. Asyr's brow knitted slightly and he watched the other side to see who, or what, he would be put up against.

However, before anyone stepped out, he heard a faint humming sound. He stepped back, looking this and that to try to figure out where it was coming from. "What the he-"

Then an energy field erupted out of nowhere before him. He jumped back from it in surprise, but there wasn't a need. It was an energy field for separation, projected from either side of the arena at its widest point. It was harmless.

What... oh, I see. To keep us apart until the match starts. Asyr snorted and pretended he hadn't heard sounds of laughter when he'd jumped back like a startled puppy. Someone at least coulda told me about it.

"And now," the announcer's voice boomed over the speakers, "introducing Fihir's opponents!"

The crowd yelled in excitement again. Asyr ignored them, watching the other side intently.

Two figures emerged from the arena's shadowed far side. The first he saw was a man that looked to be a human. He was tall, a bit fat, and had beady little eyes that were sunken into his round face beneath a crop of greasy black hair. The second was a shorter Twi'lek with blue skin. He was thinner than the human, and his bare arms had a somewhat visible amount of muscle tone. Nothing close to Asyr, but enough to give the impression that the Twi'lek wasn't weak.

Both of them had crude wooden cudgels. Asyr smirked inwardly at that.

The crowd went wild.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present a duo that needs no introduction! Please, welcome Jaizyl and Greon to the arena!"

No, the crowd hadn't been going wild before. Now they were going wild. If Asyr had any doubts the people watching were looking for him to be completely crushed, they were gone now.

With a quiet sigh, he let his arms fall to his side and walked until he was standing a few paces away from the shimmering blue energy field. The two slaves on the other side watched him. They looked wary, but the Echani could read more into the way they moved and carried themselves. They were out for blood. And he had a feeling they thought he'd just lay down and took whatever they gave him.

Someone's in for a sore suprise.

"One minute remains until the match begins," the announcer called again. "This is the last call to place any bets on this match."