Sythbo [Prologue]

Character stories and events from around the galaxy

Sythbo [Prologue]

Postby Sythbo » Mon Jan 09, 2012 6:30 pm

Part 1: Man Vs. Machine

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE!!!!”

The booming voice echoed out across the hubris of the packed Boxing Hall, faces of all races slowly turning to regard the ring. An enormously fat Human stood in the middle, a Microphone pressed against his mouth to expand his already powerful voice across the entire stadium. With murmurs and a collection of coughing, the hall fell silent, waiting for the fat commentator to speak.

“DO WE HAVE A NIGHT OF BLOOD FOR YOU TONIGHT!”

“Tonight… Tonight… night…” The voice echoed around the hall as the spectators cheered.

“MALCUTTA THE HUTT IS PROUD TO BRING YOU A SENCASION OF BLOOD AND GEARS IN THE LONG AWAITED…”

A pause for effect. The Commentator could almost feel the intake of breath as the crowd waited. Of course they already knew what he was about to say, it was printed in bold on their tickets but that was not enough to prevent him from milking it.

“MAN VERSES MACHINE!”

Cheers. Lots of them. The crowd wanted blood or a broken droid, and would not go home until they saw one or the other.

“IN THE RED CORNER, A MAN SO RESILIENT EVEN THE SITH COULDN’T HURT HIM.”

‘Alright. Control. This was it. Time to shine once more.’

“A HUMAN THAT CAN TAKE PAIN THAT WOULD MAKE A WOOKIE EVOLVE TEAR DUCTS AND CRY!”

‘Just another fight. Another taking towards freedom, and the stars.’

“A CREATURE SO TOUGH THAT EVEN OUR CHALLENGER MAY NOT BREAK HIM.”

‘It’s all about the control. Bite back the pain. Don’t let it overcome you.’

“WE HAVE THE DAAAAAAARK LEPPER!”

With the roar of the crowd, Sythbo Lepps stepped out of the pits, a silken dressing gown keeping him warm while hiding his head from the cheering spectators. Just a short walk to the ringside, just like every other night. Who cares if tonight he will be against…

“AND IN THE BLUE CORNER WE HAVE A MACHINE SO DEADLY THE EMPIRE CLOSED DOWN THE FACTORY THAT MADE IT FOR HEALTH AND SAFETY REASONS! SO CRUEL IT BROKE ITS MAKERS BACK! SO POWERFUL IT CAN PULL THE ARMS OUT OF A WOOKIES SOCKETS; WE HAVE; H! K! DEEEEEATH!”

‘Oh Sithspit. It’s an actual HK droid.’ Sythbo thought as he caught eye of his opponent. It was an old Model, a Czerka classic, the protocol disguise worn now the droids were largely recognised throughout the galaxy. From this distance – the Droid, also in a silken dressing gown, was still on the other side of the ring – Sythbo could recognise the hydraulic fluid pistons that operated the external limbs, individual gearing handcrafted into the shoulders and hips to regulate external movements, controlled by the AI chip integrated under thick armour casing in the head. Should, under certain conditions, the Main AI chip be removed, the model had a secondary chip in its chest cavity, next to the power core located in the same area. Sythbo could see the feint blue glow emanating from a small tear in the Robots chassis, but the old wound was way too small for Sythbo’s hands to fit in and take out the Droids power – HK droid armour was built to offer the highest possible resistance to a lightsaber blade, A blaster let alone Sythbo’s fists would barely scrape it. Without thinking, Sythbo’s hands touched his good luck charm, the Medallion he wore around his neck. It was a plain thing – tear shaped with a star on the front, but it was an Important Heirloom dating back to the Mandalorian war, and it Reminded Sythbo of his true love – the stars. But with that it gave him luck, luck which right now, he will be needing.
Tightening his handwraps – the only protection his Master gave him from the Droids metal fists, Sythbo stepped through the holoropes into the ring, a force generator buzzing up behind him as the cage activated. His hood was lowered – his messy bright Blonde hair flopping over his forehead – and his gown removed, the silken touch cooling and soothing his bare shoulders. All he wore – apart from a protective box and his underwear – was some light silken boxing shorts, Malcutta’s company logo emblazoned on one leg. The Droid, being a droid, wore no such Shorts, as it clamped up and down its corner of the ring. A Pretty young Zabrak girl wearing what can only be described as ‘not enough’ pranced around the perimeter, holding up a large Holocard. And with a ding, the round began.

The Commentator was shouting, but Sythbo had tuned it out. The HK was already making its first move, already having analysed Sythbo and lunging in for a sharp, but light, blow to his face. Not willing to let himself be beaten down this early on, Sythbo ducked around, getting out of the way while holding his fists up protectively against his face. The Punters wanted a good show, so the Droid was unlikely to throw any real punches until at least round three, but it paid to keep a clear head, just in case. Another punch was weaved away, and Sythbo saw an opening, throwing a punch of his own.

And then his hand hurt. All that had happened was a loud clunk as the nerves in Sythbo’s fist, deadened as they may be, told his head that the Droids armour was hard, hard enough to hurt. A lot. No time. Another punch. Another weave. A Jab. Block – ow. Blocking hurts as well. Walk it off. Uppercut – step away. Throw a punch of your own – lighter. Try not to hurt your- OWCH!

Sythbo stepped back dazed as the unexpected glancing blow to his cheek cut it open. Gasps and hoots from the crowd. Time to regain control. There. Back on feet – pretend it didn’t hurt. Throw a –and there. Round one over. Need Kolto. Stepping back Sythbo slouched onto a stool that had been placed in the red corner. Coach splashed some cool soothing Kolto over his face, stopping the bleeding on his cheek. And he was back up. Round two. Dodge. Dodge. Look at the pretty girl. Dodge. Punch, punch and OW! Sithspit that was probably a knuckle he broke on that HK’s chassis. More Kolto… But no more until round three. Shouldn’t’ve wasted it on a small facial graze. Take a blow to the side – roll with it, reduce damage. Still a chipped rib. Crowd cheering. They love a boy getting beaten up. Still, Sythbo still had a few tricks up his sleeve, this droid had seen battle. Tears on its front chassis was evidence of that, but less visible, like the filler used to repair the Droids left hip and collarbone plate. The seam was obvious, as was the spilloff around the edge of the metal. Ceramic. Tough, but brittle. A Punch at the right angle for each, and the Droid lost some protection. Not much, but enough.

Two jabs and two bits of armour plating fell to the floor in a cloud of shattered ceramic. The Crowd audibly gasped – the attack must have seemed like a punch harder than any of them had ever seen, shearing plate metal like that, but in truth it had taken barely any strength. Accuracy, that’s what Sythbo had, and he had landed them perfectly. In the leg, as expected, there was the wiring. Sixteen coloured nerve-wires, these were the most fragile. Tear them, and the HK lost a piston movement in its leg. Two hydraulic pumps, impossible for a fist to even dent. And lastly the sealed gearbox. His neck yielded disappointing results – all wires to the droids head were protected by another layer of armour, a spinal column. No chance of damage. So leg it is. Round two over.

Another sit. A Wet towel thrown onto his forehead – Sythbo felt the soothing burn of Kolto. Rudding coach was cheating. Again. Still, it helped. Up again. Pretty lady. Round three.

Round four. No chances of getting at the wires. HK Death knew the weakness, and every attempt was cold metal pain.

Round Five, just like round four.

Round Six! A Chance opened, and Sythbo took it. Got a nasty strike to the recently healed rib, but a low jab tore three of the wires, causing HK’s leg to kick out. Timing a strike, Sythbo took the Droid to the side of the head – destroying all his knuckles but sending the Droid sideways to the floor. Referee’s count. Five four three two one… Victory. Lots of disappointed betters. A few very joyous. Sythbo expected generous ‘gifts…’ All the closer to buying freedom. Turning, he heard the crowd gasp as he felt the cold metal around his leg. HK Death was still active – and angry. Its other hand grabbed Sythbo’s knee on the opposite leg and, losing his balance, brought him to the floor. On his back, Sythbo looked up in fear at the Droid that pulled itself up his body eyes red… a different colour to earlier. With a crackle, the aged speech devices began to work.

“Query: Will meatbag surrender its life before or after its medal?”

Sythbo tried kicking, but one leg was pinned down by the heavy chassis, the other still gripped in one of the Droids hands. Its head reared over his, and the other hand reached down for his heart… but it was closing over his medallion?

“NO!” Sythbo Cried as, with a burst of strength he threw his hands around his opponent’s neck. His fingers slipped into a gap at the back of the spinal plating – odd there should have been a sealing plate. Regardless he seized the advantage and with all his strength bent the column open, tearing at the wires. Slowly, the Droids eyes faded out as the head came off in his hand. As the body reset, the victorious boxer climbed to his feet, HK head in hand. Raising it high, the crowds erupted into cheers. All but one cloaked figure at the back, which silently slipped away.

Last edited by Sythbo on Sat Feb 18, 2012 4:17 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Sythbo
 
Posts: 11
Joined: Fri Jan 06, 2012 4:28 am

Re: Sythbo [Prologue]

Postby Sythbo » Thu Feb 16, 2012 8:54 pm

Part 2: Man Vs. Beast

‘Focus. Control.’

Once again, Sythbo Lepps stood in the Pits of the Spekdarr Boxing hall. The cold smooth touch of his dressing gown burnt against the partially-healed cut on his shoulder from the previous evenings bout, a gouge deep enough a single night of Kolto was insufficient to completely heal it over. He could hear that overfed fat commentator introducing his opponent to a roaring crowd, but he honestly didn’t care about what Fatty had to say, he already knew this fight was a lost cause. He just had to last to round eight. That’s where the big money was.
Master must have been insane thinking he could put him into this fight. After the business with the HK Droid the Dark Lepper’s popularity had soared, but now Master just wanted him to lose. Because when Sythbo felt pain, Master felt money in his pockets.
Sythbo glanced out into the ring. His Opponent was already walking out of the opposite Pit, while Coach was still speaking angrily with one of the referees. Coach had been angry about this ever since he had seen Sythbo’s name up against this one, and it was obvious he had no expectation of Sythbo surviving this fight. Neither did Sythbo, as he passed the Kolto pill over his teeth with his tongue thoughtfully. Cheating Sythbo called it. Coach called it ingenuity.
“THE DARK LEPPER!!!!!!”
That’s his cue. Stepping out the Darkness with an escort of pretty Human girls wearing little enough to make their mothers burst a blood vessel, Sythbo hunched his shoulders to look surly as he strode up past the stands to the ring, to applause, catcalls, and cheers of support. And there, in the Blue corner, stood his Opponent. Eight foot tall, and Covered in even brown hair. The ‘Pride of Kashyyyk.’ A Gorram Wookie. Putting his gumshield into his mouth, Sythbo stepped into the Ring, as the Forcecage shut around the two of them.

Thirty seconds into round one and Sythbo was already on the floor. It had taken three Hairy Punches –strong and well-aimed – before he had to hit the deck. Gritting his teeth, Sythbo pushed himself to his feet again, his opponent dancing around his corner to the Crowd, who were deafeningly loud. Squaring himself up again, Sythbo threw a punch of his own, making contact with soft fur. His efforts earned him an uppercut right into his ribs, winding him instantly and throwing him back a few steps. Gathering himself he went for a Jab to the Wookies stomach, but the resulting parry sent him spinning – and onto the floor again. Round one over, and he was still alive. A lot of logical betters would be disappointed.
As Sythbo sat in the Red Corner, a damp towel on his forehead while he waved away Kolto (He would definitely need it in round two) He Analysed his opponent. Pride was sitting in his Corner, with no-one but a Coach, who seemed detached from his champion, and another – female- Wookie, cradling a small bundle of fur. Pride petted the bundle fondly, bearing his fangs in a smile. So that was his Mate… and a child. Who brings a child to a Boxing match? And with that thought, Round two was called and Sythbo pushed himself to his feet, focusing now on only his Opponent. Pride did the same, and Round Two began. Ten seconds later, Sythbo was on the floor again. With the same effort as before he pushed himself to his feet again, Pride stepping back to permit him the charity. But no sooner was his feet squared did Pride swing in to attack again, a jab and a punch sending Sythbo to the floor again. Rolling the Kolta capsule hidden in his mouth across his back line of teeth, Sythbo threw himself to his feet again and threw six fast successive punches into his opponents abdomen, stepping around the Wookie as he made the attacks, as the beast roared in pain. No sooner had his fists made contact for the sixth time did the enormous beast swing down a fist, over his back and crashing into the crown of Sythbo’s head with a crunch, the young boxer hitting the deck and seeing nothing but black.

As luck would have it, the round ended there, permitting the home team three precious minutes to get Sythbo on his feet again and back into the ring. Three med droids and his coach were on him within seconds of the bell, analysing the damage. He wasn’t dead, the punch had been pulled, and meaning there hadn’t been enough strength to dislocate or break any of his spinal vertebrae. A splash of water (Kolto, coach wasn’t even being subtle with his cheats now) and a douse of Kolto on each of his various scratches and bruises to heal him up. And then, with those short minutes over, Sythbo was up again and facing off again against a surprisingly relieved looking Wookie. Round three.
Sythbo felt the soft shell of the kolto pill crush in his mouth halfway through round four. His strategy had degraded entirely into defence, weaving in and out of as many punches as his weak, strained legs would permit him, his back and forehead glistening brightly with sweat under the bright lights. This wasn’t a fight, it was basically an execution, Sythbo’s pride prevented him from bending knee until he physically could no longer stand and at this rate, the Wookie could easily finish him before he fell. The kolto swishing around his mouth burnt the cuts that had torn in the ridge of his mouth, before slipping down his throat energising him to continue. His eyes and chest burnt momentarily, and then the satisfaction set in, turning to pain as a hairy fist smashed into his cheek, grounding him once more.

This was it. He was beaten.
Sythbo rocked dazed on the heels of his feet, round seven still two minutes from finishing. He could no longer see his opponent, black blobs swirling around his vision as it flashed from a blur to blackness and back again. Everything seemed tilted and he could taste his own blood in his mouth, his Gumshield having mercifully protected his teeth. His fists were no longer in pain; he could no longer feel them at all, and his chest and neck stung like never before. Blood had overtaken sweat for dominance over his skin, and far, far away, he could hear someone shouting. With one final jolt – possibly a punch, Sythbo’s world tipped upwards and his head spun all the way to a shock of pain as his body hit the floor. Far away someone shouted, the words moulding into each other, as his eyes drooped and closed.

“He’s down, grab him” Shouted the Armoured Mandalorian, pulling a hidden pistol and shooting down two of the bouncers who stood around the ring. Around the crowd, strategically placed, five other armoured individuals jumped up, their weapons out as they charged towards the ring through the rapidly parting crowd. Shooting down the bouncers before they had time to pull their weapons. A few stray shots went into the crowd, striking a few spectators down and the female Wookie with the bundle. The leader, jumped up, activating her jetpack and shooting up into the scaffolding below the open ceiling. Spinning in the air she aimed her fist at the forcecage controls, a rocket shooting out her wrist and engulfing the generators in a ball of flame, the forcecage shorting and failing. Landing on one of the beam of scaffolding she aimed her pistols at the main entrance, as her five comrades hopped into the ring, The Dark Lepper unconscious on the floor, Pride looking horrified at the fallen ball of fur.
“Grab him. Bounty requires him alive and unharmed.”
“I guess a light beating won’t’ve hurt our paycheque, we’ll douse him in Kolto on the ship.”
Four of the five Bounty hunters knelt next to Sythbo, ready to pick him up, just as a flurry of hair and death closed in on them. Pride, his face contorted, broke the back of the first bounty hunter with one single swing, Picking him up and throwing him hard at his comrade, knocking them out the ring. Grabbing the next closest by the neck, the enraged Wookie took his arm with his other enormous paw and tore, his arm coming right out of the socket with a crack and a scream, before dropping him wailing to the floor. The two standing hunters had drawn their weapons at this point, and two bolts of energy struck the Wookie in the chest but it did little more than enrage the beast, who ploughed into them before they had time to fire a second shot. Within moments both were dead, broken on the floor of the ring. Panting, the Wookie looked around the ring. None remained standing. With a wail, he fell to his knees and howled.

With a clump, the leader landed behind him, electricity jolting out her rifle and engulfing the Wookie. The beast, instantly disabled by the powerful energy fell to the floor writhing, as the cruel Mandalorian stepped up to him, looking down on the beast in pain.
“I should thank you, you’ve multiplied my takings from this raid by six. But I can’t stand by and have you kill my mates without punishment.”
The Wookie howled something in Shirriwook in response, earning a cackle from the bounty hunter in turn.
“You think I care about your mate and child? You will join them soon enough beast.”
Lowering her rifle the Hunter pulled a knife out of a frog at her belt, raising it high above her head, ready to strike down on the beast.
Just as Sythbo plunged one of her comrades’ knives into her back. The blade cut around her armour, right through a weak spot, earning a dull look of surprise on her face. Then she fell, silently, to the floor of the ring, as once more, Sythbo collapsed into unconsciousness.

At the back of the hall, the hooded figure holstered the Lightsaber that had sat ready in his hand. Turning, he disappeared into the crowd.

Sythbo
 
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Joined: Fri Jan 06, 2012 4:28 am


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