Deadly Challenge

Snowmist, a proud Demarian, faces a life-threatening experience from a relatively diminuitive - but no less deadly - opponent, a Nall known as Sith...

Smuggler's Cove -- Fighting Arena 

This is a fairly large room with a high ceiling. In the center of the room is a raised square platform that resembles an old-style boxing ring, complete with ropes and turnbuckles. The ring is lighted by a series of white spotlights overhead, and the rest of the room is dark. Around the ring, arranged in rows, are seats for spectators, but despite the appearance of size for the room, there is only enough seating for perhaps 200 people.

A liquid, three and a half feet tall shadow seeps in on spindly legs, a blood red tongue testing the air in front of it. With a flicker of his tail, Sith sidesteps out from in front of the entrance as gold-speckled eyes scan the room and its occupants.

Snowmist is conversing quietly with Sharpeye on one side of the room as they wait in between bouts.

Sharpeye, likewise, is conversing with Snowmist. Bet you couldn't figure that one out.

Sith takes a few cautious steps deeper into the arena, eyes now focused intently on the arena before him.

Snowmist mutters to Sharpeye, "I remember once y'said there... somethin'..."

Sharpeye whispers to Snowmist.

"Tooo rough..Confined.." Sith can be heard telling himself quietly as he paces around the perimeter of the arena. "Nowhere to hide.. Nowhere to run either." And at that his jaw drops open and he hisses severely short huffs.

Teel sits comfortably on a chair, resting her legs on the seat in front of her. "Yer gonna have ta retract yer claws, Yama. Remember."

Yama pouts. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

Snowmist nods, worrying her lower lip pensively as she mulls over something before taking a breath, finally making up her mind to say whatever's on her mind before she abruptly pauses as Sith moves into her line of sight. Eyes narrowing, she takes an experimental sniff of the air, and her frown deepens as she identifies this particular Nall.

Yama smiles brightly at Sith, waving a brightly decorated paw.

Karith arrives from Smuggler's Cove -- Cantina .

Teel continues. "An Jet's probably gonna be wearin his armor, Yambabe. Who's th'Nall?"

Yama wrinkles his nose. "We're going to be able to use armor?"

Sharpeye whispers to Snowmist.

Sith continues to walk around the arena before the rather brilliantly colored wave of Yama's draws his attention. With a hiss and a bending of his knees, his tail flickers an agitated response. When Snowmist sniffs the air, it's met with a flicker of his tongue and a flinch. "Filth." He chuffs.

Teel shrugs. "I don't know, actually." She yells over at Snowmist, "Hey Misty, did you catch th'fights last night?"

Karith walks in and glances across the room. Seeing nothing of interest, he walks over to the side to wait a little.

Snowmist's lip curls back from her teeth as she lays her ears back, looking down her nose at the diminutive reptiloid. "Takes one--" She glances distractedly toward Teel at her call and shrugs. "Yeah, one or two of 'em. Dropped in for part o' Sharky and Firemane's fight, an' caught the end of Gettleman an' Betoth's fight."

Sith tilts his head to the side, allowing his mouth to drop open. "You cannot talk if I tear out your tongue, whelp." He appears ready to make due that statement, but a step forward gives him ample time to think better of it. He turns and continues about examining the arena.

Yama grins, canines flashing. "Well, the lad's got style."

Teel yells back at Snowmist, "Did they have armor in th'hand ta hand?"

She punches Yama in ths side. "Hush."

Sharpeye narrows his eyes, fangs bared as he stares after Sith, muscles tensed.

Karith looks around to see who made the threat. When he sees the Nall, he looks away, apparently unsurprised.

Denick arrives from Smuggler's Cove -- Cantina .

Denick enters, wearing civilian clothes.

Teel whispers to Yama.

Snowmist's eyes flick back to Sith and she grins sharply, with nothing of true mirth in the expression. "Oh, *please* do try," she purrs toward the Nall before replying to Teel without taking her eyes from Sith, "Nopes. No claws, teeth, and armor. Just straight hand an' feet."

Yama whispers to Teel.

Sith tilts his head to the side, turning around to face Snowmist. "I would challenge you now, coward filth, but you would merely make an excuse to avoid it. Or would you?"

Snowmist raises an eyebrow. "Funny you should be callin' me all those names without basis. Or are you just tryin' t'bolster your own courage?"

Sharpeye smirks silently.

Sith raises a thin arm, talons curling towards his fist as he takes a sidestep towards the ring. "Come. Try me." His gold eyes never once leave the Nall. "I already punctured you once. I wish to do it again. The warmth of your blood is comforting." There's a pause and the Nall tilts his head to the left, then the right, tongue darting in Snowmist's general direction. "We will fight without claws or talons, if you wish. How do you say it.. Fun?"

Karith looks over to see the exchange of threats, obviously interested in the outcome, though whether from boredom or plain morbid curiosity, you can't tell.

Teel whispers to Yama.

Teel rolls her eyes at the angry Demarian and Nall.

Snowmist chuckles lowly as she rises, stretching. "Any way is fine with me. An' keep that memory close...it'll be the last one you'll have o' that particular kind."

Sharpeye stands as well, following the pair to the edge of the ring.

"Talons it isssss.." The Nall whispers, eyes squinting into thinned slits as he watches the Demarian enter the ring. A moment later, he's in with her.

Volanta arrives from Smuggler's Cove -- Cantina .

Volanta walks in and takes a seat towards the front.

Teel narrows her eyes at Sharpeye.

Karith allows an unintentionally feral-looking grin to creep across his face for a few seconds. He continues to watch intently.

Snowmist is inside the fighting ring with Sith.

Sith's tail twitches behind him as his taloned digits lock into place.

His knees bend, lowering his height to just under three feet tall. "Ready when you are, filth."

Teel spits at Sharpeye, "Ya didn't even /try/ an stop her."

Snowmist flexes one wrist and then the other before assuming a stance balanced on the balls of her feet, weight distributed evenly between them. Beckoning with one finger--the claw prominently extended at its tip--she purrs, "Anytime, lizard."

Sharpeye twitches a whisker. "She deserves a chance at revenge."

Yama says, "Revenge for what, pray tell?"

Sith chortles and takes a menacing step forward, shoulders dipping and rising like the ocean in a hurricane. His hands remain infront of him, tail counter-balancing his movements as he begins a slow circle around

Snowmist, eyes judging the /much/ bigger Demarian.

Sharpeye nods toward Sith. "That one jumped her with one of his friends.

Clawed her."

Karith gets up and walks out.

Yama nods attentively. "And you just now get back to reparations?"

Karith arrives from Smuggler's Cove -- Cantina .

Karith walks back in with a really awful smelling brownish-red drink. He heads back for his previous place.

Teel shrugs with exasperation. "Fine, I ain't no Demarian, I don't understand. She deserves ta get her shot, but...she's yer hoopin /wife/, too. Not just yer subject." She crosses her arms. "Think bout that."

Sharpeye quirks his lips, turning toward the ring.

Snowmist slides into a crouch of her own, wary of how the much shorter Nall can easily slip beneath her guard. Turning to keep the Nall before her, she shuffles her feet in small steps, maintaining her balance with every movement, eyes focused not on any limb in particular but watching for any tell-tale shift that would indicate a pending attack.

Sharpeye nods. "Yes, she's my lifemate. Which is why I must not stop her. It would be a violation of trust to do so."

"I would give you the honor of striking first, whelp.. But even you do not deserve that much." Sith says in a quiet whisper as his legs suddenly bite into the ground beneath him and he rushes forward, body spinning as a push from his left leg sends him into the air, tail brought up to lash at the Demarian's face.

Yama rolls his eyes to Teel, giving her a 'see what I mean?' look.

Teel nods slowly. "Okay, thas'all good." She then yells at the ring, "Give'm hell, Misty!!!!"

Teel whispers to Yama.

Yama shakes his head.

Yama whispers to Teel.

Teel stands up, her eyes filled with worry. "Yambabe, can we go somewhere n talk? I can't look at this."

Yama shrugs, his attention flowing like liquid. "Lead on."

Yama shuffles out of his seat, following Teel.

Teel heads into Smuggler's Cove -- Cantina .

Yama heads into Smuggler's Cove -- Cantina .

Snowmist ducks down and back, not quite successfully as the tip burns across her cheek. Growling angrily at herself at neglecting to take into account the use of his tail as not only a balance mechanism, but a potential weapon, she turns with the motion of her evasion to launch a roundhouse kick after the Nall as he's about to land from his leap.

Sith dips his shoulder as he lands, another push from a spindly leg sends him a quick bound out of Snowmist's range. Now at the ropes, he turns and begins to saunter towards Snowmist rather teasingly. "You will have to try harder, fleabag." His mouth is cracked a bit, the tip of his tongue protruding from between his upper and lower lip ridges.

Sharpeye narrows his eyes at Sith, the look on his face suggesting to those who are familiar with his expression that he is contemplating jumping in the ring, despite his words of before.

Snowmist's eyes narrow. "If you insist..." she drawls, lunging before she finishes her words, the claws of her right hand fully extended as she swipes for his middle, stance guarded as she prepares to either ward or leap out of the way of any return attack on Sith's part.

Sith back pedals a step or two, avoiding Snowmist's strike before using the Demarian's lowered stance to leap up into the air, tail flailing wildly to maintain balance as a foot lowers to her upper shoulder.

Perhaps intending to jump over the Demarian due to her lowered position and to the other side, intent on leaving some marks in the process.

The claws on Sith's foot bites through the vest at Snowmist's back as he leaps past. Hissing at the light burn of the shallow scratches, Snowmist flings a straight back kick behind her before she's sent tumbling forward by his kick off her shoulder, rolling over one shoulder to come up in a crouch on one knee.

Sharpeye growls at the move, fangs bared.

Sith stumbles forward a bit when he lands, Snowmist's foot catches his tail. Apparently this has caused no real damage, but has angered him immensely. "Filth!" He hisses loudly, spinning on his right foot. His legs part and he hunkers down, spine curving upward as in a flash he's running towards Snowmist at an insane rate of speed. A jump and he's airborne, trajectory taking him towards Snowmist's chest. Claws, talons, and a row of many teeth present themselves for the offering.

Snowmist barely has time to do more than bring up an arm against the underside of his jaw, preventing him from biting, before he impacts, her back leg sliding back as she absorbs the force of his leap. Ignoring the sting of his claws, she growls and attempts to dislodge him, her free hand reaching for any weaknesses in his guard with claws out.

Sith attemps to force lower his head against Snowmist's arm, evidently his tiny body having more strength than it would appear. By now a long drawn out hiss is escaping his lipless mouth as his claws flex to dig deeper into Snowmist's body. The talons on his feet begin to withdraw before being brought forward again to scrape and puncture her lower abdomen.

Sharpeye growls lowly, his head tilting to the side as his hands lock around one of the ring's ropes, obviously ready to leap over them.

Snowmist sucks in a sharp breath and desperately twists aside as his claws bite into her stomach. Lowering and turning her head to protect her neck as his jaws lowers toward it, she finally lets her supporting leg collapse behind her, fighting to turn them so that Sith is on the bottom as they fall, her free right arm striking for his diaphragm.

Sith's head continues to push forward until his tongue can easily flicker at the fur near Snowmist's jugular. As Snowmist begins to fall, he is indeed caught between her body and the floor. Instinctively, his back arches and he braces for the impact, claws digging deeper into Snowmist's shoulders and stomach as retrobution. As the two crash to the ground, his head is bounced and forced against the Demarian's collarbone where a wiretrap jaw snaps shut and begins to thrash from side-to-side.

Snowmist's punch glances from Sith's side, failing to dislodge him or causing any damage as the much smaller Nall stays within her much more extended minimum striking range.

Sharpeye grunts at the action and hops over the ropes, bounding into the ring in a straight line for Snowmist and Sith. "Break it up!" he yells, passing the halfway point. "There are no deathmatches in this ring!"

Snowmist grunts as his claws dig in even deeper, blood streaming freely from beneath his feet now. Snarling as his jaws clamp onto her shoulder and thrashes, she gives a last desperate shove with her knee, attempting to insert it between them and at least dislodge his legs. Ears flattened, expression feral, she finally moves her other arm now that he's missed her neck and goes for his own with both sets of claws.

Snowmist and Sith are wrestling in the ring, the Nall lodged on her upper body, teeth sunk in her shoulder with claws scraping her abdomen and shoulders. What might be noted about this match that's different than the other planned bouts--besides the open use of claws and teeth--might be the distinct lack of referees, announcers, and audience beyond an anxious Sharpeye.

Sith's mouth stays clamped against Snowmist as her knee fails to dislodge him. His teeth clamp down harder as he thrashes from side to side, the movement preventing her claws to strike his neck. However, she does manage to draw a set of ragged lines across his shoulder blades which usher forth a rather languid stream of Nall blood which soaks

Snowmist's hands. The Nall's claws, now coated in Demarian blood, readjust for harder purchase. The talons on his feet now withdraw completely, knee bending to tuck into his chest before being thrust forward in an arc which would end below Snowmist's belly button.. If she had a belly button.

Sharpeye closes the distance to the two, diving down with his elbow flying toward the Nall's head. "I said: BREAK IT UP!"

Rabadash steps into the arena area and watches the proceedings in the ring. He looks around the room and notices noteworthy particpants.

Sharpeye's elbow misses completely, but that does not prevent him from regaining a crouched combat inches away, situated slightly ahead of their torsos. "STOP THIS!" He yells at the top of his lungs.

Denick strides in, dressed in civilian clothes, besides a Vanguard flight jacket.

Sith and Snowmist are on the floor, blood slicking the Nall's scaly skin. He has lacerations on his upper shoulder, but that appears to be just greater than superficial when compared to Snowmist. His mouth is locked firmly on Snowmist's collarbone, blood covering his face as his hands are in no greater condition. The talons on his feet, too, are covered in blood from the Demarian's battered Stomach.

Snowmist gasps as the Nall's feet plow into her abdomen and she sags...

Sith dislodges his mouth as he feels the Demarian's heart rate slow down, blood soaked fur and flesh stuck in his teeth. He squirms away from her, blood soaking the mat and giving him cause to find purchase with his claws. With a violent twist of his body, he sends a slash across the Demarian's face, arcing down over her left eye and against her muzzle with viciousness. "Filth!" He chuffs, chest expanding wildly.

Denick places a hand against one of the walls, and closes his eyes.

Rabadash walks slowly down the arena steps towards the ring.

Sith's claws slash through Snowmist's snout, evidently missing the eye and not causing any real damage, but his claws do dig into her muzzle and the portion of flesh just above her eyelid. They dig deep, leaving the wounds to push outward, revealing pink flesh. With this one manuever, the Nall begins to turn to face the other Demarian in the ring with him, eyes flashing brilliantly.

Sharpeye growls, too hurt now by the sight of Snowmist to pay the slightest attention to Sith. He scoops her up in his arms, a hundred thousand thoughts running through his head as he takes her from the ring, blood running over his hands as he all but dashes for the exit.

Denick speaks quitely into the commlink at his jacket's collar.

Rabadash grumbles to himself.

A droplet of blood and saliva drools down from Sith's lower ridge. "You will learn respect now! Or next time I will take it from the core of you, whelp!" The Nall's tiny body quivers with the effects of battle coursing it's way through him. With a violent reach as Sharpeye has to stoop to take up Snowmist in his arms, a clawed hand lashes out in a high arc, apparently doing the same he had just done to his lifemate, crossing from the left eye down past the snout. "Dishonorable fleabag!"

Healingwind arrives from Smuggler's Cove -- Cantina .

Healingwind walks in with a med team carrying a stretcher.

Denick glances over his shoulder at the med team, and gestures urgently with his left hand to keep away from the arena.

Sharpeye narrows his eyes, but that is apparently the only sign that he even notices the new gash in his forehead as he stalks past the Nall, hurrying to the medics.

Sith remains in the center of the ring, blood pooling at his feet as he watches the retreating Sharpeye with Snowmist in his arms.

Healingwind frowns at the scene, and motions for the team to stay back at Denick's cue. Then as he spots Sharpeye he gestures for the team to take Snowmist and put her on the stretcher. "What happened?

Most of the blood pooling at Sith's feet appears not of his origin. In fact, should one look closer, it's seen that his scales are shedding blood in small streams which start at his fingertips and runs down his legs.

Rabadash stands watching Sharpeye run past him. "Soon Sharpeye...very soon"

Sharpeye blinks as Snowmist is taken from his arms, a rivulet of blood streaming down his face from the wound there. "A fight," he says simply.

Healingwind looks over Snowmist as she's placed on the strecher. He feels for a pulse, and leans down to listen for breath. "Get her to the med bay, now!" he says to the team. Then he turns to lend a hand to Sharpeye. "Let's get you there too.

Sharpeye nods meekly.

Sharpeye says, "Let's go."

Sith's jaw drops open and he's heard laughing in the way that Nalls do. Short, crisp hisses. Despite the sound being nothing but air escaping his lips, it seems to be a very pleasurable one full of scorn for the fallen Demarian.

Denick steps up to Sharpeye from where he was standing, and asks, "How did this start?"

Denick turns his head, looking the reptiloid strait in the eyes for a moment, then turns, striding out.

Karith sees that everything is over and walks out as well, carrying his drink with him.

-- Later --

Medical Bay 

The medical bay would rival a fully equipped planetside hospital. It has been divided into operating theaters, isolation wards, intensive care wards, recovery rooms, and examination rooms. Doctors offices have doctors from every race know to allow those coming here comfort in relating to someone of their own kind. A pharmaceutical dispensing facility has been set up with around the clock staffing to allow those with minor aches and pains access to medications. This area is kept super sterile and clean as a pin.

Healingwind looks back to Sharpeye, then nods. He turns to the nurse, "Damned arena fights. Scan her vitals."

Sith walks in fluidly, tail bouncing behind him rather merrily as he reaches a clawed hand into his open jaws and places a gnarled chunk of fur and flesh at the receptionist's table. "They may need that." He hisses, reaching in again and removing another, bigger, chunk of flesh. This one's a bit less of fur, more in blood and gore. "And that." He then stares at the petrified nurse, drops his jaw and hisses loudly before turning and walking out.

The nurse looks to Healingwind, then Sharpeye, then Snowmist. She passes a heart monitor over her, the gaping wound in the Demarian's chest appearing quite filled with blood. "It's bad doc.. Real bad.."

Sith is walking out of medical, his pace slow as he hears medical teams ordered into Trauma 2 with talk of a downed Demarian. IF one were to even get anywhere near him, or even at a pretty good distance, they would be able to tell that he reeks of Demarian blood.

Healingwind looks to a nurse. "See if you can get any paramedics down here to help."

Sharpeye rolls up his sleeve. "She needs blood. I can give it."

Ebonpelt pauses, nose sniffing the air, scowling distastefully at the lizard.

Sith turns to look to Ebonpelt, his jaw dropping even wider as it displays pools of blood and saliva in the hollow usually reserved for his tongue. "Filth." He hisses quietly.

Ebonpelt snorts, looking down at the little creature.

Sith stops and walks closer to Ebonpelt, his gold-flecked green eyes staring back up at the Demarian's neutrally. His tail sways playfully behind him. "Yessss?" He asks lightly.

Neilson arrives from Medical Quarter .

Healingwind looks over her wounds, and looking at all the injuries and trying to categorize them in order of importance. "We need blood. But we should have enough in storage."

Ebonpelt raises her brows. "You appear to be dripping in medbay. Shouldn't you go and get cleaned up?"

Neilson and another medic enter briskly, toting gear bags. "Holy Cripes, someone fix them lifts. Got two medics for ya, better late than neva. What's up?"

The nurse looks up to Healingwind. "Sir.. This isn't looking good. /Do/ something!"

Sith shrugs easily, eyes focused intently on Ebonpelt.

Healingwind says, "Let's close up those cuts." He grabs a laser and begins to weld them closed.

A machine begins to beep as Snowmist's heart fails to stimulate any instrumentation.

The receptionist says to Neilson, "Trauma room 2."

Healingwind turns, "Alright. We're going to shock her."

Neilson nods to the receptionist and trots down the hall to the trauma room. He comes through the door. "Hey-o. Got yer medics, right here. What we got?"

Healingwind grabs the paddles and yells, "Clear!" As soon as it's clear, he shocks her heart.

Neilson frowns. He immediately sets his bags down and trots over to where Healingwind works. He finds himself a pair of gloves as he asks, "Whatcha need here, doc?"

Snowmist's heartbeat begins to stimulate the machine again.

Healingwind turns, "We need her wounds closed. And check for broken bones." He sets to closing the major gash in her chest.

Neilson nods. "What's da method of injury?" He glances around, and grabs up some gauze 4 x 4s.

Healingwind says, "Clawing I believe."

Sith shrugs easily, eyes focused intently on Ebonpelt.

Ebonpelt narrows her eyes slightly. "Why are you here?"

Neilson ouches. "Yow. A'ight. Ya want just some bleedin' control, or should we seal 'em up? We're not cleared ta do nothin' more'n bandage, but I suppose ya could make an exception?" Still, he applies the gauze pads to some of the more heavy bleeders, even as he asks.

Sharpeye drops into a chair, expression numb and shocked, almost catatonic, aside from the welling of tears that stream down his face.

Sith continues to stare at Ebonpelt before his mouth opens and a thin line of drool and Demarian blood leaks out of his mouth towards the floor at his feet. Evidently, he' content to let that be his answer.

Healingwind hands him the laser to seal the cuts. "I'm going to see to the other one. If something happens, hit the alarm." He turns to Sharpeye. "Come on, before you bleed to death."

"Sir." Says a nurse to Sharpeye. "Are you alright? What's your name sir? What's her name?" Indicating Snowmist..

The cut's on Snowmist are deep, some, like those on her face, appear to be permanent even after the laser seals them.

Healingwind he walks out, "Page Doctor Fernandez, alert her to the situation."

Ebonpelt chuckles grimly, her muzzle wrinkling in distaste as she shakes her head at Sith. "I'm not that easy to goad, no....

The other people somehow manage to knock Sharpeye out of his trance. "Sharpeye. She's... Snowmist." He glances toward Healingwind. "And I'm not moving."

Melissa is just walking in the door, dressed in her Vanguard uniform, as she steps in, she nods to the receptionist and picks up a lab coat from her.

Ebonpelt is looking down at Sith, grimacing in distaste. The lizard is drenched in blood - some of which he's currently drooling onto the floor.

"I do not goad. If I wished to, I would've gutted you already." At that, the Nall's nostrils flare and he chuffs, the liquid over the two slits in his face is thrown at the Demarian, pelting her coat with splatterings of Snowmist's blood. With that done and said, the Nall turns and walks away smoothly.

Melissa looks up at the main medical area as she enters and raises an eyebrow at the scene before her.

Neilson nods to Healingwind. He begins to seal up the larger wounds first. "Hey, Ricky?" he calls to the other medic. Ricky trots over. "Find another one a these doo-dads and help, will ya? And get some pressure?" Ricky nods and sets off to find another laser.

Firemane is in a general ward somewhere in the back, well out the way of the newly formed chaos occurring in the ER.

Ebonpelt GROWLS. 

Sith turns at the entrance as he hears the growl from the Demarian, he merely cocks his head and motions his head towards the back.  Said in Nalliese. His jaw then drops and he hisses loudly again, as if laughing mockingly at Ebonpelt before turning and continuing out.