UNDERWORLD CANTINA, OMEGA
The salarian narrowed his eyes. "And whom, exactly, do you think you are?" he asked. "You're not even in this tournament, if my supposition proves to be correct. My opponent knew the risks when she entered this tournament, and yet did not anticipate losing so quickly. To die after the first round is a great humiliation, and her arrogance has been her undoing. Thus, I say she dies."
Suddenly, the organizer of the tournament stepped toward them. "What, may I ask, is the situation here?" he queried coldly. "Do we have our first loss?"
"We do indeed," sniffed the organizer's salarian compatriot, "and yet this mewling meddler has dared to interfere with the natural progression of the tournament! He is threatening my life at this very moment, and I highly suggest you either have him killed or thrown out of the cantina immediately."
The organizer smirked. "Even better--I'll have him thrown out and then killed." He signaled for two highly-armored krogan males to flank his right and left sides. "Mnull? Dorgan?" he commanded. "This one is causing a disturbance."