Interlude – Know your enemy, know his sword - Part One
by (G) Arrain - Lieutenant Arrienye t'Merek & Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Post Details
::ON::
The deepest bowels of Deep Space Five were filled with secondary this, and auxiliary that, and storage whatever. Normally empty, an enterprising young engineer had started opening them up for what amounted to private gladiator combats to entertain the less salubrious denizens of the station. Now, in the small hours, whilst the honest citizens slept, the night’s entertainment was reaching fever pitch.
The floor had just been opened to the last round of newcomers as Yolanthe and Tharek arrived. Any one who stepped up now would be facing the four current champions of the night; a Human male who was even more bulky than the Klingon who had also made it so far. Along with a Bolian woman whose facial ridge was so crossed with scars it was barely visible and a mangy looking Gorn whose two foot long blade seemed sharp enough to cut deck plating. They lounged against an unused computer console waiting to see who would step forward. The four may have been fighting all night, but only the supremely talented or the supremely stupid could believe they stood a chance.
A few heads turned when the pair arrived; they stood out not just for their height, which was taller than most, but Yolnthe's exotic coloring contrasted sharply against the dark Cardassian, and few of the crowd ever expected to ever see a powerful and prominent 'upper deck' figure like Getal amongst them.
Even the champions looked curious, wondering if one or both would step forward.
Tharek stood forward, and flexed his neck. "Right, I want a piece of... Him." He stated, pointing at the Gorn.
The lizard man stepped forward, and spun his blade in an intimidating flourish. The weapon seemed to buzz with spite as it blurred through the air. "I'll take two pieces of you, spoonhead!" he bellowed. The crowd cheered.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a challenger!" The compare announced. The man turned to Tharek, and indicated a large chest of assorted weapons. "No rules, no limits, except to respect surrender. If you win, you take his place."
The crowd was shouting the Gorn's name, "Na'Tlar! Na'Tlar"
Yolanthe leaned into Tharek's ear. "The blade's a distraction. Watch out for his bite." She scanned the crowd quickly for bookies. The odds would be good. "Be-" she caught herself and didn't say 'careful', "yourself."
"Right." He turned to look at her. "What, no kiss good luck?" He said playfully.
She gave him what he asked for, deep and fiery hot. "Good Luck."
Tharek smiled, and then walked to where he needed to be. Directly in front of a Gorn with a two-foot long blade. "Want me to go easy on you?" Tharek asked the Gorn, mockingly.
In return, the Gorn ignored him, and addressed Yolanthe. "Don't worry, princess, I won't hit your pretty boy in the face."
With that he lunged forward, not waiting for Getal to choose a weapon, the point of the sword stabbing straight for the Cardassian's belly.
Tharek quickly moved his entire body to the right, removed the Gorn's sword from his hands with the use of a powerful kick. Seconds later, Tharek had taken the blade and removed the Gorn's head quickly from his shoulders.
There was stunned silence punctuated only by the sound of the body, then the head hitting the ground. For a long moment no-one moved and no-one breathed. Then the compere took charge and started clapping. For a few uncertain seconds it echoed in the unused maintenance bay, and then, finally the crowd joined in, almost all the crowd. A small knot of beings, probably the Gorn's management, looked distinctly unimpressed.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, a new champion!" The compere bellowed. "Are there any new challengers?" No-one new came forward. "Then let’s find tonight's winner!" Lots were drawn. First, the Klingon would square off against the Bolian, and then Tharek would face the Human.
Yolanthe slid an arm around Tharek as the crowd flowed back to give the two combatants some room. She was trying to hide a smile. "I take it back," she said, "Don't be yourself: I need time to get a bet on. At least play with them long enough for me to do that?"
Tharek sighed. "Fine, I'll make sure it’s one hell of a show then." He said, winking at her, going off to pick a weapon. Before he went, he gave Yolanthe a quick kiss, but full of passion none the less.
The Bolian woman chose a pair of carved batons, maybe three-quarters of a meter long. The Klingon hesitated a moment, and then, predictably reached for a bat'leth.
"Idiot," the Bokkai muttered. "He's going to lose now." She shook her head and pulled her change purse from a pocket. "Excuse me; I'm going to make some money."
As Yolanthe moved by the crowd she saw someone she didn't expect to see in such a seedy environment. Seated on one of the benches at the top, observing the 'festivities' was non other than Arrain t'Merek, the Romulan Chief of Security.
Yolanthe put down a substantial bet on the Bolian winning at 18:1 against. The surrounding punters laughed, the size and strength of the Klingon dictated nothing but a win to them. Their loss. She had been hoping for better odds on Tharek, but his brutal dispatch of the Gorn had destroyed that, and she had to settle for 3:2 to beat the Human, and mere 4:1 to win.
In turning from the alien bookie, she saw t'Merek lurking on the makeshift seats looking down at the two fighters warming up. As the compere rang the bell, she clambered up the awkward steps to join her. "A late night for you isn't it?"
"I didn't know I had a bedtime," Arrienye commented, looking over at her as the Bokkai sat down.
"I run a bar, I keep unsocial hours." Below, the Klingon opened by charging the Bolian woman, who slipped under his over-powered swing, cracked him on the back as she moved past and turned to face his next attack, calm and unconcerned. Yolanthe winced as the blow landed. "Seeing people I consider 'normal' up late can take me by surprise." She winced again as the Bolian parried an over head chop, and beat the Klingon in the kidneys. "Did you come to watch, or did you compete?"
"I'm here to watch," Arrienye said.
The stupidity of the Klingon's choice of weapon was becoming apparent. He couldn't reposition it fast enough to block the faster moves of the Bolian female and she landed organ rupturing blow after blow as she danced around him. Yolanthe shook her head. "If he had chosen a simpler weapon, she'd be a greasy stain." The Klingon managed to slash the Bolian across the shoulders, and then send her sprawling by bringing the back of the curved weapon down on her head. "So how’s the show been tonight?"
"It’s been very bloody, but not bad overall. And you're right. Klingons are too predictable," Arrienye nodded, wincing only momentarily as the bat'leth moved to collide with the Bolian's head.
The Klingon's brief rally wasn't enough to save him. The Bolian rolled, cracked a baton against the back of his knees, and when he crashed down, she flipped up and smacked him across the back of the skull. At that point it was all over. The crowd alternately howled or cheered, depending on who they had been supported.
Yolanthe stood, sky blue, and grinned. "I'm in the money. They weren't expecting that." She turned to t'Merek. "I'm going down. I'm want to enjoy the next bout up close. Want to come?"
"Sure," Arrienye shrugged, standing up. She really had nothing else to do. She wasn't a betting person so the outcomes weren't too important for her. She followed Yolanthe down.
::END OF PART ONE::
JP by
Yolanthe Ibalin
Shamelessly profiting on unnecessary violence
Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Cardassian Dictator
Arrain Arrienye t’Merek
The moral center
by (G) Arrain - Lieutenant Arrienye t'Merek & Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Post Details
| Title | Know your enemy, know his sword - Part One | |
| Mission | Interlude | |
| Author(s) | (G) Arrain - Lieutenant Arrienye t'Merek & Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal | |
| Posted | Sat Jul 31, 2010 @ 10:43pm | |
| Location | Very Lower Decks | |
| Timeline | SD 27, small hours |
The deepest bowels of Deep Space Five were filled with secondary this, and auxiliary that, and storage whatever. Normally empty, an enterprising young engineer had started opening them up for what amounted to private gladiator combats to entertain the less salubrious denizens of the station. Now, in the small hours, whilst the honest citizens slept, the night’s entertainment was reaching fever pitch.
The floor had just been opened to the last round of newcomers as Yolanthe and Tharek arrived. Any one who stepped up now would be facing the four current champions of the night; a Human male who was even more bulky than the Klingon who had also made it so far. Along with a Bolian woman whose facial ridge was so crossed with scars it was barely visible and a mangy looking Gorn whose two foot long blade seemed sharp enough to cut deck plating. They lounged against an unused computer console waiting to see who would step forward. The four may have been fighting all night, but only the supremely talented or the supremely stupid could believe they stood a chance.
A few heads turned when the pair arrived; they stood out not just for their height, which was taller than most, but Yolnthe's exotic coloring contrasted sharply against the dark Cardassian, and few of the crowd ever expected to ever see a powerful and prominent 'upper deck' figure like Getal amongst them.
Even the champions looked curious, wondering if one or both would step forward.
Tharek stood forward, and flexed his neck. "Right, I want a piece of... Him." He stated, pointing at the Gorn.
The lizard man stepped forward, and spun his blade in an intimidating flourish. The weapon seemed to buzz with spite as it blurred through the air. "I'll take two pieces of you, spoonhead!" he bellowed. The crowd cheered.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a challenger!" The compare announced. The man turned to Tharek, and indicated a large chest of assorted weapons. "No rules, no limits, except to respect surrender. If you win, you take his place."
The crowd was shouting the Gorn's name, "Na'Tlar! Na'Tlar"
Yolanthe leaned into Tharek's ear. "The blade's a distraction. Watch out for his bite." She scanned the crowd quickly for bookies. The odds would be good. "Be-" she caught herself and didn't say 'careful', "yourself."
"Right." He turned to look at her. "What, no kiss good luck?" He said playfully.
She gave him what he asked for, deep and fiery hot. "Good Luck."
Tharek smiled, and then walked to where he needed to be. Directly in front of a Gorn with a two-foot long blade. "Want me to go easy on you?" Tharek asked the Gorn, mockingly.
In return, the Gorn ignored him, and addressed Yolanthe. "Don't worry, princess, I won't hit your pretty boy in the face."
With that he lunged forward, not waiting for Getal to choose a weapon, the point of the sword stabbing straight for the Cardassian's belly.
Tharek quickly moved his entire body to the right, removed the Gorn's sword from his hands with the use of a powerful kick. Seconds later, Tharek had taken the blade and removed the Gorn's head quickly from his shoulders.
There was stunned silence punctuated only by the sound of the body, then the head hitting the ground. For a long moment no-one moved and no-one breathed. Then the compere took charge and started clapping. For a few uncertain seconds it echoed in the unused maintenance bay, and then, finally the crowd joined in, almost all the crowd. A small knot of beings, probably the Gorn's management, looked distinctly unimpressed.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, a new champion!" The compere bellowed. "Are there any new challengers?" No-one new came forward. "Then let’s find tonight's winner!" Lots were drawn. First, the Klingon would square off against the Bolian, and then Tharek would face the Human.
Yolanthe slid an arm around Tharek as the crowd flowed back to give the two combatants some room. She was trying to hide a smile. "I take it back," she said, "Don't be yourself: I need time to get a bet on. At least play with them long enough for me to do that?"
Tharek sighed. "Fine, I'll make sure it’s one hell of a show then." He said, winking at her, going off to pick a weapon. Before he went, he gave Yolanthe a quick kiss, but full of passion none the less.
The Bolian woman chose a pair of carved batons, maybe three-quarters of a meter long. The Klingon hesitated a moment, and then, predictably reached for a bat'leth.
"Idiot," the Bokkai muttered. "He's going to lose now." She shook her head and pulled her change purse from a pocket. "Excuse me; I'm going to make some money."
As Yolanthe moved by the crowd she saw someone she didn't expect to see in such a seedy environment. Seated on one of the benches at the top, observing the 'festivities' was non other than Arrain t'Merek, the Romulan Chief of Security.
Yolanthe put down a substantial bet on the Bolian winning at 18:1 against. The surrounding punters laughed, the size and strength of the Klingon dictated nothing but a win to them. Their loss. She had been hoping for better odds on Tharek, but his brutal dispatch of the Gorn had destroyed that, and she had to settle for 3:2 to beat the Human, and mere 4:1 to win.
In turning from the alien bookie, she saw t'Merek lurking on the makeshift seats looking down at the two fighters warming up. As the compere rang the bell, she clambered up the awkward steps to join her. "A late night for you isn't it?"
"I didn't know I had a bedtime," Arrienye commented, looking over at her as the Bokkai sat down.
"I run a bar, I keep unsocial hours." Below, the Klingon opened by charging the Bolian woman, who slipped under his over-powered swing, cracked him on the back as she moved past and turned to face his next attack, calm and unconcerned. Yolanthe winced as the blow landed. "Seeing people I consider 'normal' up late can take me by surprise." She winced again as the Bolian parried an over head chop, and beat the Klingon in the kidneys. "Did you come to watch, or did you compete?"
"I'm here to watch," Arrienye said.
The stupidity of the Klingon's choice of weapon was becoming apparent. He couldn't reposition it fast enough to block the faster moves of the Bolian female and she landed organ rupturing blow after blow as she danced around him. Yolanthe shook her head. "If he had chosen a simpler weapon, she'd be a greasy stain." The Klingon managed to slash the Bolian across the shoulders, and then send her sprawling by bringing the back of the curved weapon down on her head. "So how’s the show been tonight?"
"It’s been very bloody, but not bad overall. And you're right. Klingons are too predictable," Arrienye nodded, wincing only momentarily as the bat'leth moved to collide with the Bolian's head.
The Klingon's brief rally wasn't enough to save him. The Bolian rolled, cracked a baton against the back of his knees, and when he crashed down, she flipped up and smacked him across the back of the skull. At that point it was all over. The crowd alternately howled or cheered, depending on who they had been supported.
Yolanthe stood, sky blue, and grinned. "I'm in the money. They weren't expecting that." She turned to t'Merek. "I'm going down. I'm want to enjoy the next bout up close. Want to come?"
"Sure," Arrienye shrugged, standing up. She really had nothing else to do. She wasn't a betting person so the outcomes weren't too important for her. She followed Yolanthe down.
::END OF PART ONE::
JP by
Yolanthe Ibalin
Shamelessly profiting on unnecessary violence
Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Cardassian Dictator
Arrain Arrienye t’Merek
The moral center