History speaks of the origin of the Clone Wars on Geonosis, and the first major clash between the Jedi and the Sith. The Colosseum draws inspiration from the fabled Petranaki arena, certainly, but was built with a more contemporary audience in mind. Located on the planet that serves as the new seat of the Brotherhood's central power, Arx, the structure was rebuilt and renovated from the shell of an ancient foundation that had barely weathered away against the planet's ever-changing climate.

High walls, tall enough for even the most savvy Jedi to find unscalable, line a large field of ancient sand and sediment the size of a holoball field. The spectators' chairs are divided into neatly organized sections with seats bunched close together to accommodate anywhere up to a few thousand people. At the center, an elongated platform “box” has been constructed with a central throne of stone with various seats of smaller scale lined beside it in both directions.

Two large holo-projection screens are set up on each side of the Colosseum, offering different angles of the fight via Holocam Drones.

While unassuming at first glance and looking very much like an archaic gladiatorial arena, the Colosseum features a medley of traps and surprises built into the floor and walls at random intervals. These obstacles include, but are hardly limited to: retractable nozzles that can shoot out gouts of flame; battery-coils that can spit out tendrils of electric current; receding floor panels with electric shock panels; deep pits with sharpened spikes and more. At some points, the ground can simply erupt upwards and create a concentrated, if not impromptu angular-platform that could be used as a springboard or temporary high ground. While seemingly random, these obstacles are handled and triggered by a manned-operator in a control room within.

Outside the fighting arena, the Colosseum features on-site, state of the art medical facilities that can bring nearly anyone back from the brink of the death and offer a full team of trainers, doctors, and rehabilitation units. There is also a neatly kept armory a basic training center with mechanical-dummies, and private sparring chambers.

Despite being nighttime, the dazzling lights made a beautiful display within the confines of the Colosseum. Slow, methodical footsteps made a rhythmic echo as the form of Alexis Karant made its way towards the centre. Having been informed her opponent was 'Tyris' - and there was only one man by the surname of Tyris that she knew of, the Voice of the Brotherhood - she was fully expecting a test on the part of her boss. A meet and greet, a checking of her abilities, and perhaps a new assignment in the depths of the Clans. It seemed a logical progression at the very least. She cast a glance up to where she knew the control room to be, where a loyal Inquisitorius agent stood ready to assist the Grand Inquisitor by leveling the playing field if necessary.

As she approached, she spied a form rather relaxed, resting carefully against the wall off to her left as he put a bottle of water to his lips. Familiar black hair, and that build - but, no. Something was decidedly wrong about all this. The twisted feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that this was not the person that she was seeking.

"You aren't Marick Tyris," the woman shouted across the arena floor as loud as she could.

"What, were you expecting him to grace you with his presence? No, this is beneath his sabley darkness, my lady! You're stuck with me." Wyn pushed off from the wall and started casually making his way in Alexis' direction. The voice was definitely different, as were the mannerisms. Already cautious as to this man's approach, the Sith stood her ground.

"The name's Wyn," the Master spoke, throwing the water bottle aside. Man, that had sure been some swell water. "It's not going to be a name you forget easily after today."

With that level of egotism, sure, she very likely wouldn't.

"Does deception become you, too, like your lord brother?" inquired the lady, slowly reaching for her holstered blaster pistol.

Immediately, a shot rang out from a blaster pistol drawn into Wyn's left hand - Alexis hadn't even seen him draw the weapon, but the blast landed so sizzlingly close to her left foot that she knew full well that this was the sign of a very talented marksman. Pinpoint accuracy even at this range, casually, was not something an unskilled man could perform.

"Don't do anything stupid, lady," the gunslinger announced, beaming as he did so. The shot had its intended effect - lock her down for just a second before she was inclined to get any closer. He could tell already that she was a little unnerved by what he'd managed to perform in mere moments. It was nice to be able to have that effect on people.

Holding back a snarl, Alexis contemplated reaching for her lightsaber. Yes, she had her rather trusty blaster pistol with her, but what good was it if she was outclassed by a far superior opponent? Or, better yet - play his game for a moment. Out came the trusty blaster that had served her for years in the First Order. A single shot from it became the echoing reply, not aimed directly at her pistol-toting opponent. It splashed harmlessly against the arena wall, leaving naught more than a small, sizzling mark.

Somewhere in the aether around them, the sound of a gong echoed out - the fight was on. Both screens blazed to life in an instant, showing both of the fighters - despite there not being a crowd, it seemed that this fight was being recorded nonetheless for someone's amusement.

A braying laugh sprang from Wyndell's lips as the second blaster joined its brother, already starting to circle to his left as he aimed the beloved pair of blasters at his newfound opponent. "Are you sure you want to do this? Really sure?" he asked, obviously hoping to make her back down before she decided to foolishly engage in combat.

"Unfortunately for you, yes, I-" Alexis started, until a plate started to slide away at the sands under her feet, causing her to leap away. As the plate came into full view, it crackled with brilliantly blinding arcs of electricity, a lethal display of power. The Inquisitor raised her fingers to her comm panel.

"What are you doing, you idiot?" she hissed angrily at the Inquisitorius agent in the control room. "You're supposed to be helping me!"

"Sorry, ma'am, but he's got a lot of credits riding on this to be a very interesting fight," replied the control room operator before he cut the line. That karking fool - when she got out of this he was going to end up without his head. If she managed to get out of this on top before he escaped, the Inquisitorius would have one less incompetent, disloyal agent in its ranks.

Another laugh from Wyndell. "Surely you didn't expect me to walk into this arena without coming prepared? For an agent of the Inquisition you aren't very good at this."

Great. She had been outplayed, both in her own preparations and in her ability to fight her opponent. Immediately she holstered her now useless blaster pistol and drew her lightsaber, the blade springing to life in a furious display of crackling crimson. This was not a normal fight - but this was not a normal opponent. The rage seethed to life in her, bubbling to the surface. How dare this man play her for a fool. Or, worse still, how easily had she let herself be fooled? Little things overlooked in the hopes of speaking to her leader had allowed her to be led astray and played like a fiddle.

No more.

"You talk too much," she hissed, before making a headlong dash across the sands at her opponent. Already her blade sprang to life as a whirling dervish of defence, the first three shots from Wyn's blaster pistols a staccato burst of energy as they were flung harmlessly away by her saber. The fourth, however, was strategically placed to land just in front of her, in order to reveal the corner of one of the flame projector nozzles - which roared to life with a column of flame erupting up from the ground. Unhesitatingly Alexis backpedalled from the blast of fire, refusing to allow herself to be set ablaze by it. However, Wyn had put another few good metres between them in that time, refusing steadfastly to let her reach him any time soon. The agent realised now that this was going to be an incredibly difficult opponent to overcome - and he hadn't even really started to fight yet.

“‘You’re not Marick Tyris’,” Wyndell muttered in a perfect mimic of the lady-stormtrooper’s modulated voice. He hopped over a waist-high barricade that jutted up from the ground and pressed up against it for cover.

If he had a credit for every time he heard that one...well, he’d have enough credits to actually pay the operator he had convinced earlier to not rig the venue against him. Which was fair in Wyn’s opinion. The Elder almost felt bad about the subtle mind trick he had used on the Inquisitor. It wasn’t like Marick was around to chide him about it, anyway. And besides, he’d traded the operator a perfectly good half-eaten can of foodstuffs for his troubles. The hardworking Inquisitor would thank him later, surely.

Peeking over the top of his cover, Wyndell fired off a quick flurry of blaster bolts from his twin LL-30’s. Now that Miss Karant—well, he assumed she was a ‘miss’ by the way she was obviously flirting with him—had drawn her lightsaber, Wyn’s hopes for an old fashioned gunslinger showdown wilted. The air was clean and dry, though, and the dusty ground beneath his hide boots provided good footing and traction. The arena, while unpredictable, would also give him ample cover to move between.

Alexis crouched slightly as she advanced, minimizing her target profile. Smart. The crimson blade of her lightsaber nodded left and right with a subtle turn of her wrist, batting aside each bolt as she closed the distance. It was telling that she had gone for her blaster first before drawing her laser sword. Wyn respected that, but still had a bunch of questions he needed to have answered.

“Hey, so, I’m kind of getting mixed messages here. Are you supposed to be a stormtrooper, assassin, storm-sassin or something...?”

“Yes,” Alexis replied flatly without hesitation, stepping around a hole in the ground that suddenly appeared. She kept her lightsaber interposed between her body and her opponent’s no matter where he positioned himself.

“Don’t those kind of...contradict? I mean, it's kind of hard to be subtle with all that armor.” Wyn’s cover sunk back down into the ground, leaving him exposed. He blinked twice before scampering towards an elevated crag of earth that had sprouted up like large ascending stepping stones.

“What are you, my mother now?” Alexis called out, tracking his motion and nearly closing into range where she could manage an augmented jump. Wyn continued to keep her at bay, challenging her defenses with controlled sprays of fire.

“No, but I’m sure she’s a lovely woman that is proud of her Stormtrooper-Assassin-Jedi-daughter,” Wyn responded, carefully alternating fire between his twin pistols. His makeshift perch gave him the high ground, but the stones began to retreat back into the ground, forcing him to hop over to a new platform that had risen up. He was about to compliment himself on sticking the landing, but was forced to sidestep a waist-high jet of flame that lashed out to greet him. The Elder tapped his foot as he let the fiery trap finish its business. Once it dispersed, Wyn glared at the protruding metal nozzle protruding from the rock and dispassionately shot it with one of his blasters. Rude thing.

The distraction had been enough for Alexis to close the distance. Wyn barely had time to register the rapidly-approaching red lightsaber that seemed very interested in bisecting him down the middle. He let out a high pitched and not very masculine yelp, leaping down from the elevated platform to land in a crouch that sent a small quiver of shock up from his toes and into his knees. Gritting his teeth through a wince, Wyn quick-holstered one of his blaster pistols and grabbed something else from his belt. Karant now had the high ground, and Wyn could all but sense her smugness at capitalizing on his distraction.

The Equite leaped off her perch, lightsaber held high over her head as she descended like death from above. With a surge through the Force, Wyn sprung up and away from his position, narrowly avoiding the coup de grace. Karant's saber cut harmlessly through the space Wyn had occupied. In his place, she was met instead by a small, familiar looking canister.

At the same instant, Wyn twisted slightly in mid-air, sighted down the scope of his lone blaster pistol and fired a single shot. His blast connected with the flash bang grenade, triggering a blinding flood of light and a deafening thump. The flash overwhelmed Alexis’ senses even behind the protection of her helmet.

Wyn landed more comfortably this time and felt his lungs burning. Even with his eyes closed and his head turned, his ears still ringing.

Gettin’ old, Wyndell-ol’-boy.

Catching his breath, the Elder surveyed the latest configuration of the terrain before shifting his focus back to Alexis Karant. The Equite let out a string of curses as she fought through the effects of the flash bang. She deactivated her saber and switched to her blaster rifle. Wyn got distracted taking note of its design and possible modifications, and was forced to duck under a carefully aimed shot for his face.

“Stand still so I can murder you,” Alexis sneered.

“I’d love to, but...” Wyn let his response trail off as he wisely dove behind a slab of protruding rock. Alexis swore as she ducked behind another raised obstacle, studying the ever-changing terrain and calculating her next move.

Behind his new cover, Wyn returned his second blaster pistol to his free hand, tapping the twin barrels together as a sign of solidarity. They were happier together, his pistols. Two droids in an escape pod, if you would.

“So why did you want to speak with my brother, anyway?” Wyn called out, hoping to buy himself a bit more time to figure out a way to get out this fight. He was starting to get easily distracted, which meant he had been dragging it out for too long. “Marick’s not much for talking. Or fightin’ people, for that matter. He just likes to brood ominously and glower at people into submission.”

Wyn looked up, his face growing pensive. “And roll his eyes. And pinch the bridge of his nose. And sigh. A lot, actually, come to think of it...”

“Did you ever consider that it could just be you that’s making him behave like that?” Alexis couldn’t refrain from interjecting as she traded fire with her opponent.

“Hm, no, that couldn’t be it,” Wyn replied as he continued to weave between shifting cover like an arcade game. “I grace him and everyone else on this strange planet with my poise and presence.”

“Do...do you really believe in your own grandeur that much?” Alexis asked, years of training preventing her from covering her visor with the palm of a gloved hand.

“Lady, I am grandeur.” To further cement his claim, Wyn tapped into the Force for speed and threw himself into a sidelong roll towards the next nearest cover.

"You know, Wyn, it's a real shame," Alexis said offhandedly, ducking under a withering fusillade of blaster fire as the gunslinger cheerfully poured it on. As a pair of spikes extended up from the ground perilously close to her left foot, the Inquisitor was forced to roll away as well, finding her own small rise of inadequate cover as the ground beneath her her shifted to form a small ramp.

"What's a real shame - your inability to touch me? You're not wrong, that is a shame," he replied, a grin casually forming across his lips.

"If you pulled your head out a little more, maybe, yes. It is a real shame." She had to admit, he was kind of cute. There was a certain striking charm to the looks of the Tyris family tree, that was somewhat hard to resist. Besides, she liked a man with confidence. They needed to have it if they wanted to survive her. That kind of delusional overconfidence, however, was just a little bit of a turn off - maybe not enough to be a dealbreaker, if he played his cards right.

Another shame, as this was not the time or the place to think about getting laid.

Wyn pulled himself up short for just a moment to stretch his arms and smile in the direction of the trooper-turned-assassin. "I knew it!" Of course he did. Nobody resisted Wyndell's wynning charms-- it was a statistical impossibility, unless you had no soul or personality.

"You seem to act like this is a regular occurence," Alexis mentioned offhandedly, rising up as she casually slung her rifle away for the moment. No weapons - not for the moment. It was enough to perhaps turn the conflict into what she did best. Distracting him with honeyed words would perhaps allow her to gain the upper hand, if she could play into Wyn's ego. It seemed to have an insatiable appetite regardless. The Inquisitor's training was very clear in situations like this. Weave her compliments through every movement. A slight flick of her hair with the hand now freed up without a weapon, coupled with the hint of a smirk.

"Eh. Happens often enough. Ladies don't exactly throw themselves on me, but they can be enticed to," he shot back, his blasters holding over their target for that extra moment. He knew he was being played. One caress of the trigger and it would send her to the med bay if absolutely need be. He was nobody's fool, that was for sure. Yes, he knew damn well that she was playing her. However, it was very likely that something would come of this.

As this all went down, the arena operator stifled a yawn. This encounter was entirely boring, but every word was falling on his ears. Let this play out, he reasoned. Give them a moment to enjoy themselves, then crank it up right towards the end and make them work for it. Fair was fair.

"Well? Would you like to be thrown upon?" questioned the Inquisitor. What she did best, for sure. An eyebrow quirked, a smile softened, and a hand waved invitingly. Little signs, things that would, in time, show her intentions to be true. Really, she would after this was done, if he had the inclination - though that was predicated on his actions now.

"I would not say no, my dear," Wyn answered - enough to lower his blasters down towards his sides.

Thus the trap was sprung, by every party. Three things happened simultaneously that threw the entire arena into utter, unmitigated chaos.

First, with a full reckoning that Alexis was going to make a play at him one way or another, Wyn had lowered his hands to get them closer to his belt, where his grenades were handily kept. One quick spin of his right hand blaster's trigger guard onto his pinky and he could manipulate his smoke bomb into falling near his feet, not needing accuracy so much as the distraction of making the woman want something and think elsewhere.

Second, the Sith knew full well he was up to something, but not what - so it would be considerably easier just to blast him immediately and see how a charred body went for an opponent. From her right hand sprung a violent blast of electricity, its blue bolt slashing through the air like a furious lance of unmitigated power. Even undirected it was a powerful tool to use.

Finally, the arena operator decided that enough was enough and started pressing a number of buttons simultaneously. A pair of gas traps opened up directly in front of each of the fighters, forcing them to either move out of the way or breathe in potentially deadly toxins. Their sickly green hues heralded the hissing that the nozzles let out, which the operator sincerely hoped would incapacitate at least one of the two people who were clearly not fighting anymore.

There was one slight problem with all of this: lightning typically ignited such gases by sparking the vapours as it travelled. Therefore, there was not one, but two simultaneous explosions as both gas clouds blew up directly in front of both combatants' faces. Alexis was forced to bear the full brunt of the one in front of her, the detonation buffeting her directly to the ground as it forced her to hit the dirt lest she catch ablaze completely. Her lightsaber was sent through the air as she fell, its ruby blade retracting as she lost control of her weapon. A serious amount of singing occurred to her clothes as she breathed in the smoke of the fire in front of her, her coughing loud and powerful as she struggled for air. There was no way that she was going to make it through this one, came the gasping realisation as the shock of existential dread hit her.

However, with a smoke cloud exploding in front of Wyn's face, the blast had even more fuel for its fire, detonating slightly further in front of the gunslinger but with twice the force of the one that his opponent had to bear. The blaster barely hanging on by a pinky was sent flying away as Wyndell was forced to pick either his life or his gun.

"Oh feth, my face!" screamed Wyn as he went down just as hard as her. Both fighters were then clawing to find their footing once again - however, Wyn's greater resilience both physical and mental meant that he was back on one knee within ten seconds, his second weapon raised. Kark it. She was grounded and almost out of it, and the blasted woman had just accidentally set them both on fire. A pair of shots went out as she writhed on the ground, the first one going wide but the second one piercing through her side as his eyes swam. Dizziness and nausea could be fought off with his own strength and the aptitude of his own skill - besides, he didn't have time to waste. It was better to put the target down before it became a threat.

As the smoke cleared, Wyn hesitated to draw in a deep breath to clear his lungs of the acrid tang of the air around him. It was a very bittersweet breath. Every part of him smelled and felt like it was very much burning, though at least he counted his blessings that he was alive. The Master struggled to his feet and looked up at where he knew the arena operator was watching him from. "Hey, you utter psychopath! You coulda got me killed!" he screamed, then started to hobble away as he took stock of the situation. His blaster was discarded and on the ground-- something that Wyn immediately rectified-- and took a quick gaze at the fact that his clothes were tattered and burned away in places. There were definitely welts on his skin and he was very sure that his arm was going to need to be dipped in bacta.

There was a momentary glance at the woman who still was not moving. The shock of being hit with an explosion and then shot twice must have been enough to sink her hopes of winning. What a shame. Insane as she was, she might have been fun. Too late for that now. There was no way in hell that he was going to touch that particular level of nuts with a ten foot pole. Chances were that she was considerably worse off than he was now and not conscious enough to do something about it.

Maybe they'd call a medical team in for her. Maybe not. Wyn decided that it wasn't his problem as he limped away from his fallen enemy. A little bad luck and a poor decision had won him this fight and he happily accepted this win as his own.

On the plus side, if he had've really gone down to that, it would have been a very literal blaze of glory. That was enough to put a smile on his lips after that particular brand of nonsense.

Time seemed to slow for the former stormtrooper.

Wyn became a blur of motion as he rolled for new cover. Alexis tracked her obnoxious adversary with her blaster. Her trusted weapon barked three times, but each shot missed its mark. Wyn, on the other hand, managed to fire a series of precision shots mid-roll.

By the grace of the Force, Alexis managed to dip to her right, letting the first two shots pass high over her armored pauldron. Her boots kicked up sediment around her ankles as she quickly reversed direction to the left and sidestepped the next four shots. The bolts erupted into clouds of dust in the ground behind her. As a smug smile pulled at her lips from beneath the cover of her helmet, she failed to realize that the first six shots had been intentionally wide, boxing her into the position she had landed in.

The delayed seventh shot knocked her helmet cleanly off of her shoulders. It popped up into the air and clattered to the crusted ground some distance away. Alexis winced as unfiltered moonlight assaulted her vision. Her long raven hair welcomed the cool air, but the sweat from her matted bangs threatened to drip into her vibrant green eyes.

“Oh yeah, did you see that shot!?” Wyndell shouted up to the empty stands, pretending as if there were an actual audience. “Wynning!” Karant grit her teeth as she shook her head to wave away her moment of disorientation. She slid her blaster back into its holster and pulled out her lightsaber, gripping the curved hilt with whitened knuckles beneath her gloves.

“Come out and fight me like a man,” she demanded, anger coursing through her veins.

“Well, as much as I’d like to...”

A cylindrical object rolled across the sand towards her feet. Her training as a stormtrooper told her to dive for cover, but her connection to the Force also willed her to try and throw the device away from her with an invisible hand. She hesitated for just a moment, and in that moment the grenade decided to go off.

“Smoke bomb!” Wyndell announced from the safety of his cover. Alexis instinctively shielded her face and mouth with her arm as she backpedaled away from the hissing cylinder at her feet. Even as she did, the thick cloud of charcoal fog filled her surroundings, taking her one step further from her goal of proving herself worthy in the eyes of the Inquisitorius.

Alexis carefully backed her way out of the smoke, coughing a few times to clear her throat. The smoke started to thin, but before she could try and locate her insufferable opponent, the darkened silhouette of a man with shoulder length hair and bright blue eyes began to come into view.

The figure’s calm but chilly voice cut through the smoke with a ring of authority. “That’s enough.”

Alexis blinked a few times but kept her lightsaber at the ready. What trick was her opponent trying to—

Her vision came into sudden focus as Marick Tyris—the Gray Fang—former Shadow Lord of Clan Arcona and current Voice of the Brotherhood took a step towards her. While she had never met the man in person, it was hard to mistake the leader of the Inquisitorius. She had come seeking him out, after all. Had this all been some kind of test?

“You’ve done well so far, Alexis Karant,” his voice carried a faint, arisotractic lilt. “However, you need to do a better job of thinking ahead of your opponent. Your instincts from your training with the First Order are superb, but being an Inquisitor is more than just how well you can fight.” Marick paused his monologue to side-step a random set of spikes that spurted from the ground. He never looked away from Alexis.

“As I was saying: what is the ultimate tool an Inquisitor possess, Karant?” Marick asked.

She mulled the question over, but never let her lightsaber drop. Would he consider it a weakness if she did so, or praise her for not letting her guard down? Karabast. She’d never had to think like this in the ‘Order. She was a soldier—a commander.

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly.

“Good answer.” Marick nodded. His eyes had dark lines under them, pointing to a lack of sleep. It contrasted against his smooth skin and perfectly trimmed beard. “Perception, Karant,” he explained without seeming to be gloating or demeaning. The Voice was simply stating a fact he seemed to firmly believe in. His intonation remained even and steady as he continued.

“Perception—a knife unseen is more deadly than the sword in front of you.” His hands brushed over the hilts of the twin daggers at his belt. They moved away from them as he gestured peacefully at her. “You need to focus not only on what’s in front of you, but what lies ahead.” The head of the Inquisitorius flashed his perfect white teeth into a wide grin. The expression seemed out of place on in his otherwise dispassionate, stoic visage.

A sinking sense of dread settled into her stomach.

The image of Marick Tyris faded.

Alexis turned her head to catch a glimpse of the barrel of Wyndell’s blaster pistol trained on her shoulder blades.

“I warned you that he’s not one for talkin’,” Wyn drawled as he pulled the trigger and sent a trio of blue-white rings into her body. Alexis Karant felt her muscles lock up and then collapsed awkwardly onto the arena floor as blackness engulfed her. Her lightsaber clinked to the floor and then hissed closed.

---

Wyndell Tyris blew on the barrel of his blaster pistol, even though no smoke of any kind wafted from the tip. He deftly twirled the blaster around on his finger and then attempted to slickly slide it back into its holster. He missed it, and had to fumble awkwardly with the weapon before managing to properly guide it into place.

“Woo!” he finally declared, holding his hands up and gesturing at the empty arena. The only sound that rewarded his success was the chirping of space crickets and the dying sound of servos as the operator shut down the arena’s various traps and obstacles. The wind groaned as it blew sand and sediment indiscriminately across the ground. All that was missing was a tumble of reedy weeds.

“I get no respect,” Wyn grumbled, idly probing Alexis Karant’s unconscious body with the toe of his boot. He shrugged, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and ambled towards the exit.