writers note: imagine honky tonk whore or devil's dance floor playing, or playing sequentially idk I'm not your dad.

"oi fuckface, another round ay!"

Another writer's note: there will be swears.

The Sarvarian bartender didn't look shocked at all. By the state of the table and the 3 of them, they had been there for a while and unloading their wallets. Clearly security and the bartender had considered them worth it. They had been loud laughter the entire time. We had been told not to mix with them by our sergeant. The Bartender and security seemed more alert than in most bars, paying more attention. They likely didn't get many human patrons.

Maybe it was because the Sarvarians were known to be quite rowdy. A bipedal species known for aggression and a hard bony exterior, what wasn't bone was scales. They lacked the flexibility of human beings but they made up for it in sheer toughness. They were exceptionally dangerous in 1 v 1 unarmed combat, any security had to be alert.

I was wondering what made them special and worth avoiding so much, as they seemed like a good time. Our sergeant had been clear.

"Lionel, how about a wager?" my squaddie Brenton asked getting me out of my daydreaming, when I should have been drinking "What've you got Brent?" I sighed, knowing arm wrestles were on the way.

"An arm wrestle for the next round!" he said a little too loud. He was already broke. Bastard always tried this. Lucky he was strong.

"Fuck yeah boys count me in!" said the woman from the Australians. We were silent for just a moment, wanting to respond but not wanting the reprimands following.

"you reckon you can beat me?" she mocked, clearly drunk with visible scarring and disfigurement showing on the bicep of the solid arm she flexed, looking directly at Brenton the biggest of our group. She wasn't really much smaller than the men, and fairly muscular. "Fuck I dont care I just wanna say I arm wrestled an Australian... oi love, I'm not gonna go easy though. I'm broke as fuck" he said, and with that caution went out the door.

she moved with unexpected grace for having drank so much, smoothly rose from her table and looked at me "you good to cover when he loses?"

"You betcha!, I gotta see this!" I said as Brenton gave her a wink. He'd been taking Muscle growth stimulants for 6 months and training. He was going to win. Now just trying to get in her head and give him more of an edge.

The size difference in them was considerable, The corner of the table was cleared, and I yelled "BATTLE BOTS READY!" loud enough for the whole bar to hear, everybody turned to us. Brenton just shook his head and kept eye contact on the Australian, but the rest of us smirked and crowded around. "Rhian", she said as she grabbed his hand. "Brenton".

A few more Sarvarians walked in the door the same time as I appointed myself the Announcer.

"TAKING BETS ON WHO'S GONNA WIN THE ARM WRESTLE!" The barkeep called out and immediately the there was a flurry of Sarvarian being spoken and credits being thrown at the barkeep, and we all crowded around the table shoulder to shoulder.

"FIGHTER ARE YOU READY?" Pointing at Rhian, she nodded

"FIGHTER ARE YOU READY?" Pointing at Brenton, he nodded

"ROUND 1 FIGHT"

Like a mirror image of eachother they both took a sharp breath in and tensed their cores while planting their feet and attempting to twist the wrist of the other to push the others arm down. Impressive muscles flex on both of them, the scarring on Rhian's Bicep turned an angry red from blood flow, veins bulged.

The crowd of Sarvarians were getting language louder and louder, we were cheering brenton; the Australians for Rhian. Brenton slipped a little. A roar from the Sarvarians. "IF YOU COST US DRINKS IT'S THE NEXT NIGHT OUT ON YOU BRENTON WHAT DO YOU TAKE THEM STIMS FOR!!" giving him lip service. He pushed Rhian back on the defensive! Everybody was yelling and getting closer bumping up against eachother. Warning signs were going off in the back of my mind, rowdy Sarvarians were no joke. Making eye contact with an Australian who suddenly seemed WAY more sober, he saw me hesitating & tapped his nose and gave me a wink like a non verbal "all in the plan" then pointed with his eyes at the 2 duelling arm wrestlers yelling "GET IT RHIAN, YOU GONNA PAY FOR THEIR DRINKS??"

The roughousing amongst the Sarvarians became worse, to the point of shoulder checking and double handed pushing eachother. They were yelling in Sarvarian at Rhian and Brenton, "ASH'VAR O FUCKING BLOODY". It would have been hilarious but at the same time one of them hit me in the diaphragm with a fist and I was struggling to breathe, barely standing up. This was for sure going to turn into a brawl. I already had my buddies at my back, we all instinctively moved when sensing trouble. The Australians were having none of it though, they were yelling back at the Sarvarians and all of them were split up almost like they wanted to get into a fight, wild grins on their faces. I snuck my brass knuckles on, while my hand was in my pocket.

Rhians reserves of strength were not at all tapped though, to my shock "RIGHT", Yelling as she shoved her arm down snapping the table top off it's base. The Sarvarians reaction was instant and furious, focused on her. The closest took a wild haymaker swing at Rhian, easily slipped and returned. The Sarvarians however did not dodge the blows of of the rest of the Australians who attacked with brutality at once when the Sarvarians were distracted. Even the bartender jumped the bar to get in on the fight.

Sarvarians are considered very durable against kinetic impact. Hard scaly skin & solid, extremely tough bones. It’s unwise to get into a fistfight with basically a brick wall. To do so in an unarmed fashion doubly so. To ambush a numerically superior force even more so. The Australians did not get the memo, and looked like they were in their element. Both taking hits and dishing them out. Dodging, ducking and weaving. It was absurd.

The hits were brutal from the Australians and the Sarvarians. There was no style, it was an outright brawl they had included us in by proxy.

I thought we were safe but 3 Sarvarians peeled off not being able to fight the Australians and came at us. Christ this was going to be rough. Steeling myself I braced my core, and delivered a snap kick to where I hoped their solar plexus was. That. Fucking. HURT. Ripping my foot back down before it could be trapped, It was like kicking a brick wall, clearly this was not a weak spot.

Tensing my fists, I ranged with a jab and hit him with a right, between the eyes. It would have broken my hand except for the knuckle dusters, instead I felt something break in his face. That had a reaction, a big reaction. Not the one I was hoping for though, as he lost his temper and just started swinging. I don't think he could even see me, but all I could do was keep my guard up and my back to Brenton while this Sarvarian was almost windmilling, most blows were glancing, but even glancing blows from this… creature, this raging monster fucking hurt.

The other 2 were a bit smarter and were trying to get to me but they were blocked by their friend who was losing his temper. Surprisingly, even after 10 seconds this Sarvarian was slowing down. I really hope he wasn't getting more focused.

The Sarvarian was swaying like he'd lost his balance, and stepped backwards with his 3 fingered hands balled into fists. Before grabbing a table to hold himself upright.

It didn't matter all that much to me, because at the same time, the 2 Sarvarians closed in on me. Even with my guard up, anywhere they hit was going to deeply bruise. And they did. Body shot after body shot, these guys knew how to hurt a human. I was nearly falling over from the body shots, not able to breathe.

Brenton, my hero, my guardian angel. He had successfully beaten his one single Sarvarian to a finely mashed pulp, had picked him up and I became aware of this when there was a flying Sarvarian that hit my 2.

Pushing my pain aside, I seized the opportunity to soccer ball kick my first Sarvarian in the face. I would have broken my foot if not for my boots. Another one out for the count.

Brenton didn't even try to fight the other one that fell down. He picked him up still full of beans and spitting mad, and threw it at the Sarvarian Rhian was fighting while it was still trying to swing at Brenton.

She looked surprised but pleased. Brenton gestured to me “He's about to awww, looks like somebody likes somebody. He's right. Can we go now?”.

“Awwww, Brent and Rhian sittin’ in a tree, Kay eye ess ess eye enn gee” I mocked them. Brenton looked like he could turn me into a living projectile next.

While I was being a smartass, Rhian held a finger up indicating to wait. Her Sarvarian was getting up. As she waited, she was looking at the Sarvarian, waiting until it was the right height and promptly knee'd it in the face. “Righto, waz, rog, ev, we goin’ or what?”

“Thought you'd never ask”.

“Shit, all this foreplay and these cunts gonna leave me blue balled”.

Various grunts and moans of the Sarvarians punctuated our exit.

Writers note: this begins in relatively good humour but it rapidly descends into a tale of survival and eugenics. If that's not your jam, cool beans wo/man. But you've been warned. Also, the drumfire is exactly what you think. I was inspired to write a story based on the ww1 drumfire recreation video on YouTube.

Also this has taken me a month to put together so don't expect crazy rapid updates.