Fists were flying and so were the drinks. Credits switched from one hand to the next with new bets changing each minute. A competitor fell and another entered, hoping to hold the ring longer than the last schmuck who just had his teeth knocked in. The rules were simple. Throw in your money and fight to keep it; a loss was a loss and the last man standing won the pot.
Angled round at the bar, Shaye watched with interest the sparring taking place. It wasn’t anything professional but it sure as Hoth was fun to watch. Tonight’s crowd was a lively bunch, all eager to make a profit and maybe spill a little blood. If not her badge (discreetly tucked away), Shaye might have joined in, just for the sake of it. But fistfights and drunken disorder would be hard to explain to the brass upstairs. Best lay low and enjoy the show.
The next fight was starting and Shayne ordered another drink to go along with it. A Devaronian taking on a Quarren. No contest. Shayne put her money on the horn head; they were scrappy and not above using those horns for gouging. Time to sit back and rake in the credits.