Snippet #2453329

The attendant looked up from his morning paper and jammed a thumb in the back. "Regular, can't miss him, look for the mask and the mad fast hands."

Skaarj hammered the punching bag like a blacksmith at a forge, his bandaged fists leaving little craters in the red bag of filling. The alien jabbed forward, his ponytail flying as he threw out left hooks and right gutshots. Skaarj had spent his entire life perfecting his close combat skills, and he still had much to learn.

That'd why he'd come to this city more than ten years ago to find the perfect challenge. The challenge hadn't found him though, even though he'd been born in the system. Skaarj turned around and took a breather, holding his knees as he noticed the stranger. Skaarj grunted in greeting.