Nowhere Station, Outer Rim
The fight was over, his opponent kneeled over as he held his gut, then toppled over onto his side and groaned. His groans were soon muted out by the boos and cheers from the crowd behind the energy barriers that surrounded them. CDR-382 backed up, looking down to his opponent before shaking his head and turning his back to him. He barely lasted a minute, and he knew the man was just wanting to make some money and wanted to hit something; he just was not expecting an armored opponent.
The rules were very simple in the arena, and everyone obeyed them: No weapons. No death blows. No Droid Combatants. You supply your own armor. The victor earns a good portion of the winnings, save twenty percent that the house takes.
Once the energy fields went down, CDR turned to leave while a trandoshan walked in, grabbing the loser by one arm and dragging them out shortly behind. "There you have it! Another victory goes to our blood armored friend See-Dee-Are Three-Eighty Two! Come back in the next hour and we'll see if he or Big Bam will be tonight's victor before the night is over!" The announcer yelled out through the speakers, then turned around once his microphone was off and sighed. "Where do these guys come up with these names..." he mumbled to himself.
CDR walked past the cheering crowd, ignoring them and their praise for earning them money and offers for free drinks or good times for one of the working girls. He glanced behind him once, looking to the people that he was seeking to escape from; he had been stuck here for months trying get his ship repaired, and knew he had a ways to go still. He tried working most jobs here, from collecting debts to working the mines deep below, and now he was fighting in the cage arena. No one saw his face that night due to his helmet he wore with his suit, and no one could see the contempt and disgust he felt having to stoop so low as to entertain these people by beating up anyone who wanted to fight.