Haro Zylrun vs. Garret Thorne

Pirates are a rowdy lot. It is a fact rarely questioned and merely accepted by those who deal with them regularly. While the Herald’s crew is no different, the band's leader has a different approach to facilitating their tendencies. To this end, one of the Matron's smaller hangars — designated Hangar Zerek — has been recommissioned as a combat arena... or execution chamber.

Once a dedicated repair bay, Hangar Zerek is still equipped with fabricator arms and an assortment of Trade Federation droid parts that have fallen into disrepair. A squared off section, including illumination banks at each corner, designates the intended arena. The section is denoted by active shock fences, run by nearby generators. It is here that the crew lets off steam, with the hangar bay sealed.

The hangar itself still has a fully functioning force field that comes into play when matches are meant to become more interesting, or when it comes time to jettison troublesome captives. The hangar bay doors peel open, leaving only the active field to separate the arena from the vacuum of space. The control mechanisms for the hangar doors can be operated manually from the control booth or on a set timer, including the force field's toggle switch.

The control booth is the last segment of Hangar Zerek worth noting. Doubling as an observation deck, it is the only obvious entrance to the hangar. All maintenance hatches and access-ways have been sealed in advance, though the catwalks crisscrossing along the upper layers of the hangar remain. The booth itself is sealed, providing a safe haven for when the force field comes down.

Haro stood in the arena, over the cowering, bloodied form of an Epicanthix, Ijaat raised. He looked over to the control booth for the verdict. Thumb up. He sighed and sheathed the beskad. The fight had been far too short, far too one-sided.

"Got anyone better?" He shouted up to the onlookers. "I'm a warrior, not an executioner. Give me a challenge!"

He sighed in relief as a man who actually looked competent stood and started making his way down to the arena. At first impression, the man looked strong and capable. He carried himself like a fighter, not a runner. As the man strode across the hangar floor and into the arena, Haro called out to him.

"Olarom! What's your name? I'm Haro."

The man replied, "Garret Thorne, Breaker of Bones." He drew his blaster with his left hand and a kal with his right as the force field behind him reactivated.

"Nice name," Haro replied. "I have a title too. Ad Vizsla." He drew his beskad into his right hand and kal into his left, and started circling his opponent.

The man shot and Haro dodged, ducking under a swipe from the other man's kal. He swung his beskad at Garret's outstretched arm and stabbed at his ribs with his kal, but the man pulled his arm in and twisted out of the way of the dagger, which only nicked the other man's armor.

Garret swung down at Haro with his kal, but Haro had already rolled away, although not fast enough to avoid a swift kick to the gap in his armor above his hip. Haro stood and charged, only to be met with frustration as his opponent ignited his jetpack and flew up to a catwalk. Haro folded his arms and sighed.

"Really?" He jerked his head towards the onlookers. "They want a fight, not a one-sided shootout. Come down here and face me, man to man, kal to kal." He sheathed his beskad, shifting his kal to his right. "Knife to knife. Muscle to muscle."

He readied himself as he kept watching, waiting for his opponent to make a move.

Garret looked down from the grated catwalk at the Mandalorian posturing below. Haro wanted a brawl, a clash of honor and steel. Garret just wanted his credits. His contract for this particular bout was lucrative, and the employers expected a spectacle. Ending the fight from a distance would be efficient, but he reluctantly accepted that it would not keep the crowd entertained.

His trademark smirk vanished, replaced by the quiet, grim determination that always overtook him when the real work began. "I charge extra for choreography," he muttered to himself.

Drawing his blaster pistol, Garret leaned over the railing. Instead of aiming center-mass, he scanned the environment below and squeezed the trigger. The weapon fired its signature double blaster bolts that ricocheted off of a derelict droid chassis near Haro's feet. A spray of sparks and molten slag sprang towards the Mandalorion.

Haro didn't budge as the small fireshow harmlessless pelted his armor. He yelled again, repeating his demand for a close-quarters fight.

"You want to trade paint?" Garret called down, his voice carrying over the general hum of the Godless Matron. "Let us set the stage first."

Reaching to his belt, Garret unclipped a CryoBan Grenade. He thumbed the activator and casually tossed the baton-shaped explosive over the edge. It clattered against the deck plating right next to one of the active shock fence generators. The resulting explosion instantly collected and froze the moisture in the air. Shards of ice blasted outward in all directions, and a thick layer of frost coated the generator. The extreme temperature shift immediately cracked the internal circuit boards and the nearby section of the shock fence sputtered, sparked, and died.

The crowd in the observation booth cheered at the sudden destruction.

Garret sighed, holstering the heavy blaster. The audience had their pyrotechnics, now it was time to give the gladiator what he wanted. He drew his own Beskar Kal Dagger, the hexagonal blade catching the stark hangar lighting.

Stepping off the catwalk, Garret ignited his jetpack. He used a short burst of lift to control his descent, landing heavily on the arena floor across from Haro. The heavy durasteel alloy of his armor clanked as he settled his weight.

"Fine," Garret said, locking eyes with the Mandalorian. "Knife fight it is." He flipped his dagger into a reverse grip and launched into a shoulder charge.

Haro rolled his eyes inside his helmet as the man switched to reverse grip. Inefficient, but showy. The crowd will like it, but it leaves his whole left side exposed. He sidestepped to Garret's left as he charged, using his opponent's momentum to drive his kal through the durasteel armor and into the man's side. Garret managed to twist away from the strike, but even so, the dagger cut deep.

Haro attempted to withdraw his blade, but Garret twisted out of his reach and struck at him, forcing him to dodge and back off. Haro switched his beskad to both hands and launched himself back into the fray, clashing beskar to beskar. His greater leverage allowed him to knock Garret's kal away, and he pressed the offensive, forcing his opponent to dodge.

Garret yanked the dagger from his side, expecting to use it to meet Mandalorian iron. However, he was surprised when Haro suddenly discarded his sword and grabbed Garret's hand. The Mandalorian's grip was bone-crushingly tight, snapping Garret's fingers with ease and forcing him to drop the dagger. Haro released his opponent's mangled hand and slammed his fist into Garret's helmet, his gloves sending a shock through his opponent's armor.

Haro continued striking, trading blows but pressing his opponent back towards the remaining shock fence. With each blow, the shock pulse emitters on his gloves sapped a little more of his opponent's strength, but even so, the blows his opponent managed to get in hit with substantial force. Eventually, Haro managed to back Garret all the way to the fence and, with a boot planted in his opponent's chest, pushed him backwards into it. Tendrils of electricity coursed through Garret's body, and he collapsed to the ground. Haro glanced to the control booth, to see the pirate captain's thumb pointed to the ceiling.

Haro put out his hand to help Garret up, then went and retrieved his weapons. "That was the best fight I've had in ages," he commented. "You're pretty strong." He handed Garret's kal back to him. "How about I buy you a drink? You've earned it."

Haro attempted to pivot away from the incoming shoulder charge, bringing his kal up in a defensive guard. He was fast, but Garret's was, surprisingly, faster despite the weight of this armor. The mercenary crashed into the younger warrior with momentum like a runaway speeder. The impact of durasteel against beskar rang out across the hangar.

Haro stumbled backward, his boots skidding dangerously on the frost-slicked deck plating left in the wake of the cryo grenade. He recovered his balance with trained precision and slashed his dagger in a swift, retaliatory arc aimed at the vulnerable joint of Garret's shoulder.

Garret did not try to dodge. He stepped into the strike, letting the blade glance off the thick cortosis weave of his armor's underlay with a shower of sparks, and drove his own kal forward.

The Mandalorian pulled his kal into position swiftly and the blades clashed. Beskar ground harshly against beskar. Haro strained, trying to use leverage and technique to twist out of the bind and outmaneuver his larger opponent. Garret simply relied on raw, overwhelming strength. He forced Haro's arm back, locking the Mandalorian in a grueling test of power.

Haro tried to break the deadlock by driving his knee upward, aiming for a gap in Garret's lower plating. It was a solid tactical choice, but Garret anticipated the sudden shift in weight. Shoving forward with his free hand against Haro's chest plate attempting to push him off balance.

Haro's foot lost its purchase on the ice. His center of gravity vanished. As the Mandalorian fell backward, Garret forcefully twisted his wrist, wrenching Haro's kal from his grip. The blade clattered uselessly away across the hangar floor.

Garret followed him down. He slammed his knee into Haro's chest plate to pin him to the deck, the point of his own blade stopping mere millimeters from the T-shaped visor of Haro's helmet.

The observation booth erupted in cheers, the onlookers pounding their fists against the transparisteel. The spectacle was over, the client was satisfied, and the point was decisively made.

Garret held the blade steady for a long moment, his chest heaving as he stared down at the trapped warrior. With a deliberate, slow motion, he pulled the dagger away and sheathed it at his belt.

"This show is over," Garret grunted, pushing himself up and leaving his opponent on the floor.