Session export: Outer Rim Wrestling Presents: Mando Melee

As the boisterous interlude music blared through the stadium and the crowd rose to feet and began waving around their homemade placards and signs those watching on the holonets heard the voice of Chipp Sandi the former GWF Cruiserweight champion from prior to the buy-out, “And there you have it folks. The stage has been set. Welcome to the innaugural MandoMelee! I’m your host Chipp Sandi, and joining me at the broadcast desk tonight is Budee Giy. We have nothing short of a war within the squared circle to showcase for you all tonight. We have the finest wrestlers from across the Galaxy, and later tonight we have the MandoMelee Rumble where the winner will punch his ticket to face ORW Universal Champion Killer Whale at next months Galactomania. What are you looking forward to most Budee?”

The new company had performed a few ‘house shows’ and done a Freeview holocast a few weeks before, but this was to be their first major event.

“The blood, gore and extreme violence mostly Chipp.” The renegade Kaminoan male said bluntly.

Chipp barely had time to swallow a sip of water, having hoped his colour commentator would have a bit more to contribute.

“Wuh ho, aren’t we all. The crowd is roaring here at Hod Harans Folly. Alright we’re getting word from that back that our backstage reporter has caught up with one of the wrestlers from our first match. How are things back their Sabu?”

As the camera cut away to the little Anzellan backstage, Chipp frowned at Budee.

The venue was indescribably large compared to the slight figure of the Kushiban as Keiko entered. He held his tail draped over one arm as he hopped to keep up with the larger people in the crowd. Moving to find his place not far from the ring, he was thrilled to discover he could see not only the apron but down into the announcers’ booth as well. Standing in his seat and craning his neck, he tried to catch glimpses of anyone and everyone who might be participating in the event.

He’d spent the better part of his formative years watching old reruns and, when he was lucky, catching a special here or there on HoloNet. Mando Melee was to be his first live experience and the excitement made his ears twitch. From his seat the vibrations of the sound system were so powerful the tips of his ears practically rattled anyways. He cheered right along with the crowd, waving the end of his tail exuberantly. Seeing the vibrant outfits that the contestants and the audience wore, Keiko let his own fur shift colors. The blue of that contestant’s outfit, the red of that woman’s boots, the gold of Mr. McMando’s suit.

Standing in his seat and bobbing along to the music, Keiko let the colors of his fur run wild, changing with each new person he saw. This was already everything he’d been hoping for. Now he was eagerly awaiting the matches, ready to pick a favorite and don the colors of their outfit in support. Adrenaline pulsed through the crowd, an almost tangible thrill pulsing through the gathered masses. Hopping several times in his chair, he stared up at the backstage reporter, ready to eat up any tidbit of info or possible drama that might be brewing behind the scenes.

The camera feed switched to Sabu, who began to address the ringside announcers and the crowd. Brother Baro could be seen pacing in the background, seemingly muttering something to himself while doing so.

In the locker room, Nejj readied up his gear. With a few quick flicks of his dexterous fingers, the Zeltron was secure in his golden spandex-jeans and shoes. A few wraps around his wrists and between his fingers completed his “outfit” for the evening’s matches.

Oh yeah. Show time was comin’.

With one last smile into the mirror and a tousle of his messy, purple curls, Nejj was ready to bring out the Golden Sage to the cameras…whenever his cue came.

Lillian had placed herself about two or three rows back, her boot-covered feet kicked up on one of the seats in front of her. The rest of the family were all busy today, and with the recent unrest in Kiast, she had been asked to not start whole-bar brawls– so she was essentially on house arrest. The red-haired Mandalorian let out a huff, crossing her arms in front of her. She had decided to go with more casual wear today, and so she was wearing baggy, black tactical pants with some basic-issue combat boots and a graphic tee that said something offensive in mando'a. This left her heavily scarred arms visible for everyone to see.

Her curly hair, even more ridiculously long than it was when she was trying to keep it tamed to fit in her helmet, was let down and incredibly unruly. The messy nature of her and her brother’s hair was most of the reason Alex kept his so short. Her emerald eyes were ringed in smoky makeup and she wore a dark-red lip to match the overall look. She looked about as grumpy as she felt. Now that the war was over, the force had decided to leave her be, and she was recovering from one hell of a migraine hangover in the mean time.

She wondered if any of her bets would land.

Alright, camera time.

Nejj looked over his own shoulder via the mirror, staring down the Corellian Dream before spinning about with gesticular flair. “It’s not about what you expect, Dream. It’s about controlling the narrative!”

The Golden Sage leaned close, almost conspiratorially.

“The match is a conversation between you and your opponent. But! It’s going to be loud. You’re going to feel every eye in the arena on you. Own it! They are here for you. For your statement. Show them your GOLDEN PATH, Dream! Make sure when they close their eyes tonight, it’s you they remember! Your fist raised in victory!”

Brother Baro turned upon hearing his name called, and stood with his hands folded behind his back when Sabu and the camera droid approached. “The truth is, Sabu, there are a lot of great wrestlers on the ORW roster. But none of them are willing to go to the lengths I am to win that belt. I may be half-Lurmen, but I’m no pacifist. I thrive in the chaos. I’m here to make things ugly for anyone who stands in the way of me and that title.”

He let his words sink in for a moment, and his expression darkened while he stepped closer to the camera droid, his face taking up the whole of the shot. Then, he cracked a smile. “So let’s get to work.”

That was the last thing he said before walking off.

“He, smells…gud. Back ta you’s, desk people.” Sabu said in his stilted Anzellan accent.

Chipp rolled his eyes. It was hard to find good help, and seeing as ORW was still a new and fledgling outfit, the owners had made a trade-off in hiring the little the guy, what he lacked in vocal skills he more then made up for with his ability to operate the remote camera droid.

“Thanks Sabu. Back at ringside we have our first match about to kick off. Shwarma the Hutt is already in the ring waiting for his opponent.” The blow by blow announcer said.

Just then a load crecendo blared through the stadium and a stylized punk-rockified version of the old New Republic anthem began playing. The crowd all looked to the entrance ramp.

“And here he comes, the Ring Strategist himself, Karracca! He was only recently signed to roster as a Legacy star. This is wild! He’s obviously here for more then just promotions and publicity. The former government official and pillow fighting champion is here to fight! Look at those eyes, he’s stairing a hole through Shwarma right now.”

Karracca let our massive roar that set the crowd off in a frenzy of cheers and screams before jogging down the ramp and leaping up over the top rope with a single bound.

After the performative crowd waves the announced range the bell and the match began. Due ti the age of the wrestlers and the time budget of the show, the slot was scheduled for only 6-8 minutes total.

It started with the wrestlers locking up in the traditional fashion and Shwarma getting the better of the wookie and hurling him back into his corner. As planned the Hutt then slithered over and launched himself at the wookie intending to elbow him. The blow never landed and the old but agile(when he wanted to be) wookie side stepped the Hutt and grabbed him behind the head and began repeatedly slamming his head into the oversized turn buckle.

“And Karracca is feeding the Hutts face to the turnbuckle with authority.”

After several exchange of blows, they locked up again.

The Hutt whispered, “send me into the ropes, when I come back, body slam me. Then bring it home.”

He was a old jobber and just came for the paycheque. A short match would give Karracca time to do his fan service at the end, and keep the show on schedule.

Karracca was a bit skeptical about his a ability to life the Hutt that easily weighed a ton, but nonetheless threw the Hutt to the ropes.

“And Karracca swings Shwarma to the ropes.”

The Hutt came of the ropes in an odd fashion, rolling back towards him on his side. But when he’s approached He leavered himself up with his head and tail. Helping Karracca defeat the law’s of gravity.

Karracca smiled as he appreciated the professionalism of his fellow wrestlers and dutifully grabbed the Hutt by the midsection, and used the Force to helo hurl him uo and in and and then drop him. Though he made the drop look as if he was driving the Hutt into the canvas.

Karracca then walked over to the nearest corner of the ring amd began climbing the ropes.

“Oh, a huge slam by Karracaa. He’s going to ropes…could we see it folks?”

Karracca mounted top rope, turned, raised his arms and performed a 450 degrees flip landing face down on the Hutt. Though using his hands and knees to lessen the blow on his fellow geriatric.

“Yes, we will! The 450 Wookiesplash! Karracca hooks the tail. Referee Mebulba counts. And there were have it out. Our first winner of MandoMelee, with his first victory in a wrestling ring in nearly a decade. Karracca the Wookie Ring Strategist!”

As the matches continued, a single violet spotlight shone down from the side. The pulse of heavy bass and synth began to thunder through the arena, accompanied by shimmering electronic notes. A band of Bith musicians began to assemble on a raised stage, each one dressed in matching silver jackets and heeled boots as they began to play an accompaniment of undersector pop.

As the music began, two massive rancors emerged from opposite sites of the stage, one purple and one pink in color. Glittering gold jewelry each hung from them against their smooth, manicured scales as they moved to the rhythm. Their huge feet shuffled in time to the beat, tails swaying behind them as they moved carefully. Slowly, each rancor lowered themselves and extended their massive clawed hands towards the center of the stage.

Purple smoke suddenly erupted, along with a flurry of pink and gold glitter. When the haze of colors cleared, Syrena was standing between each rancor. The Zeltron rose slowly, one fishnet clad leg unfolding after the other as each rancor retreated back underneath the stage. A skintight wrestling bodysuit clung to the curves of her physique, cut high along the legs and platinum gold in color. The Zeltron’s pale pink hair fell around her face in a mess of wild waves, while dark eyeliner had been deliberately smudged beneath her silver eyes. Her lips, shimmering with black lip gloss, curved into a smirk.

Syrena lifted the microphone and began to sing, just as the beat dropped, “Landing down on Zeltros, speeders in the air. Neon on my skin and glitter everywhere.” Her hips rolled in time to the rhythm, just as two muscular Twi’lek dancers appeared behind her, bare muscular arms gleaming under the lights. “Credits burnin’ fast as the whole city glows,” She continued to sing.

Syrena turned between each of the dancers, spinning between each of them as they dropped down to the ground in a series of acrobatic movements. “Party on Zeltros, turn it up loud, get lost in a crowd,” The Zeltron’s melodic voice sang to the beat, as she turned to the audience with a wink. As Syrena finished the final chorus of her song, she flipped cleanly through the air, landing between either dancer in time to the last note. Another burst of silver confetti and glitter began to rain down, covering the stage as the music faded.

Finally, Syrena took a bow before facing the crowd with a grin, raising the mic to her lips. “I was informed approximately twenty minutes before arriving here by my manager that, under absolutely no circumstances, was I permitted to participate in the fights… But to hell with that! So, I put my name on the bracket!” Without another word, Syrena waved at the crowd one last time with a wink as she dropped the mic, before exiting the stage.

New music ripped through the arena and a wall of golden sparks fell from the the gorilla entrance. The finished and a plume of smoke burst in their place, as the music reached its first verse.

🎶 Sitting in my Ivory Tower; Invincible to Fall 🎶

The smoke dissipated, leaving a Blue Twi'lek in a black and gold suit in its place. The Mandalorians all saluted as Alaris Jinn stood in his glory.

🎶 Some would say my final hour; as you scale the wall 🎶

Alaris began the trek down the ramp. The Mandlorians changing their direction as he passed them.

🎶 Step Inside! I dare you all! And Breathe the Lies! And Heed the Call 🎶

From the ring, a young woman began to introduce the approaching Plagueian. “Making his way to the ring, from Aliso by way of Coruscant, tonight’s Main Event ring announcer, The Silver Tongue Alaris Jiiiiiiinnnnnnnn.” The crowd let out a roar that was a combination of vitriol and cheers. The polarizing pompous climbed the stairs and entered the ring above the second rope.

Alaris took the mic from Lyliane Garseeah and turned to to address the crowd as the music faded. “My dear friends! On behalf of the Jinn Hospitality Group,” he brought the mic down for a moment before going into full declaration, “WELCOME TO MANDO MELEE!”

The jeers and cheers continued, mostly shifting toward the positive.

“The following match is the MAIN EVENT and it is the MANDO MELEE! Two wrestlers will enter the ring and the match will begin. Every 90 seconds, another wrestler will join the Melee. Wrestlers are eliminated when they go over the top rope by any means and BOTH feet touch the ground before returning to the inside of the ring. Whoever is the final competitor in the ring will win the Mando Melee and go on to face Killer Whale for the ORW Undisputed Galactic Championship in the Main Event at GALACTAMANIA!”

He gave the crowd another moment, before he brought the mic back up. “With that said, LET’S GET READY TO MELEEEEEEE!”

Chipp Sandi was awestruck. He had known Syrena was scheduled to perform in the slot and had been able to get through his promo shpiel for her new album. But the announcement and arrival of Alaris Jinn, the billionaire himself as a guest ring announcer caused a few seconds of dead air as Chipp fumbled for words.

He looked down at the broadcast cue card the producers had given him he realized that Jinn would actually be joining them at the broadcast desk for an interview. The cue card simply read “Special Guest- Interview”.

“UH, OH, Mr. Jinn hello, nice to meet you. Welcome to the show.” He flicked his mic off a slapped Budee in the shoulder and motioned for him to move over so that Alaris could take a seat at the table with them.

“So what brings you to Hod Haran’s Folly, sir?” Chipp said as they got situated and he turned his mic back on.

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Sabu Bric came over to Mr. Incredible and tapped him on the ankle before shouting. “Producer say, you, go now!.”

The little Anzellan then reached up and shifted the positioning of his headset before simply turning and walking away.

Keiko’s eyes were glued to the ring. The increasingly intense atmosphere caused his heart to skip frantically in his chest. The long tassel of his tail held in one paw, he had hopped along to Syrena’s entire performance. Yet the energy didn’t falter and almost immediately after that the Kushiban had been swept up into the pulse pounding intro of Alaris Jinn.

Gleefully hanging onto every word, his sleek fur shifted to a matching blue hue. Long ears twitched and swivelled, like elongated radars tracking the Twi’lek as he moved about. The ring was a stage and with each star that stood upon it this evening, he felt that the trip to Hod Haran’s Folly was the best decision he’d ever made.

A vendor stopped near him and, using the end of his tail to catch her attention, Keiko waved her over. The selection was mind-boggling to him and indecision washed over Keiko as his paw hovered above almost every item on display. Sheepishly glancing up at the vendor, he stuttered out an apology before pointing to several items: a plush likeness of Brother Baro, a poster of Syrena, and a t-shirt with the Mando Melee logo splattered across the front.

“How many c-credits for these?” Keiko’s voice strained above the din of the announcers, “I’ll t-take them!”

After Mr. Incredible made his entrance, the music stopped.

The lights in the arena darkened, completely obscuring its interior. The crowd’s cheers faded into a low, anxious murmur. Then, a low mechanical rumble cut through the tense quiet, followed by the slow, rhythmic boom of bass that pulsed like a heartbeat within the blanket of darkness.

The massive titantron suddenly displayed a black screen with a single line of text:

“EVERYTHING BREAKS.”

The words flickered out, quickly replaced by images of various broken objects: cracked armor, splintered weapons, and a close up of a battered durasteel chair.

Below the titantron, a spotlight narrowed on a spot in front of the entrance tunnel, silhouetting the muscled physique of Brother Baro. He didn’t move at first, standing like a statue until the booming percussion of his theme song began to play.

As he began his march toward the ring, a montage of his highlights from previous matches began to play on the titantron: A bloody-faced Baro tackling a twi'lek through a wall backstage, another of him leaping off the ring’s top turnbuckle onto an unsuspecting opponent, and many more of him cracking opponents with vicious durasteel chair shots. Small bursts of pyrotechnics exploded from the walkway as he walked. When he finally made it into the ring, a torrent of pyrotechnics exploded around the ring before the lights in the arena brightened again to show him standing in all his stocky glory.

Brother Baro rolled his shoulders while the announcer stepped into the ring with a microphone in hand.

“The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, hailing from parts unknown … Mr. Incredible!” The announcer paused when the crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and jeers that shook the arena. “And the challenger, forged in the deadly Shadowlands of Kashyyyk … Brother. Baro. Bokko!”

More cheers and taunts from the crowd. But Baro didn’t pay them any mind. His eyes were locked on his opponent, following him as he paced back and forth in the corner across from him.