Pirates are a rowdy lot. It is a fact rarely questioned and merely accepted by those who deal with them regularly. While the Herald’s crew is no different, the band's leader has a different approach to facilitating their tendencies. To this end, one of the Matron's smaller hangars — designated Hangar Zerek — has been recommissioned as a combat arena... or execution chamber.

Once a dedicated repair bay, Hangar Zerek is still equipped with fabricator arms and an assortment of Trade Federation droid parts that have fallen into disrepair. A squared off section, including illumination banks at each corner, designates the intended arena. The section is denoted by active shock fences, run by nearby generators. It is here that the crew lets off steam, with the hangar bay sealed.

The hangar itself still has a fully functioning force field that comes into play when matches are meant to become more interesting, or when it comes time to jettison troublesome captives. The hangar bay doors peel open, leaving only the active field to separate the arena from the vacuum of space. The control mechanisms for the hangar doors can be operated manually from the control booth or on a set timer, including the force field's toggle switch.

The control booth is the last segment of Hangar Zerek worth noting. Doubling as an observation deck, it is the only obvious entrance to the hangar. All maintenance hatches and access-ways have been sealed in advance, though the catwalks crisscrossing along the upper layers of the hangar remain. The booth itself is sealed, providing a safe haven for when the force field comes down.

Lucine's shoulder and head hit the durasteel with a marrow-rocking thump, her skull ringing. She winced and curled in on herself, crossing her eyes behind clamped-shut eyelids that did little to dampen the blaring light of illumination banks. Shouting and catcalls hooted around her.

This was...unideal.

The Sith breathed deeply and pushed through the pain, dampening it into little more than background noise. She was very adept at ignoring background noise. Her razor-cut emerald eyes opened, but she stayed in her hunched pose, playing the part of small and weak.

When, when she got out of this, she was going to systematically destroy her contact's life for betraying her. She was the one that did the betraying when she planned to, if at all.

"C'mon, what's this?!" shouted someone outside the electrified fencing that trapped her.

"Yeah, get 'er up!"

"Wakey-wakey!"

Lucine stayed limp, her quicksilver mind racing. She was counting different voices to try and judge her odds and against how many, the direction they came from, already planning. She could take hold of the minds of those closest to the cage doors so that they would let her out. Turn the masses on one another in a brawl during which she'd escape. Though, that would be risky to her person...maybe an escort, if she could manage it…?

A swift kick interrupted her thoughts and she yelped, air exploding out of her. The Aedile jerked away, and the swaggering pirate who'd prodded her waved to her fellows, crowing. "Oh, she's awake! Let's get it started!"

She exited the makeshift arena. Up above, in the control room, a booming voice over the hangar's comm unit issued. "Who wants to play with the mouse?" jeered the announcer, and the crowd laughed and rumbled. Lucine swallowed as she got to her feet, hand coming to her lightsaber. The lights and the noise blared.

The woman adjusted her calculations. Perhaps if she battled for a bit, they would simply let her go when the match was over. Or she could create an opportunity to make a more delicate escape. Use her opponent as a pawn. But it would depend heavily on how bloodthirsty her attacker, and the audience, and that was an uncountable risk…

Her knuckles whitened on the hilt of her blade as she surveyed hungry and scarred faces.

"I'll fight her!" came a shout, and bodies parted to some shouldering and shoving as a man emerged from the pit. Lucine's emerald eyes flickered quickly over him, taking in skin and hair even greener than them. He was covered in scars, tattoos, and piercings, blades hanging off of his person like a walking blacksmith shop, and his armor—

Lucine paused.

The Lotus symbol was emblazoned proudly all over it.

The Human looked harder as he stepped into the painfully bright lights with her and the cage closed behind him. His face was familiar. She made a point of knowing everyone around her and their associates, and Lucine was positive she knew this young man. One of Turel's and the Jedi's cohorts? One of the Tameikes'? One of her Consul's?

Some of the smugglers cheered the man on, while others booed, yelling for a "catfight."

Nonetheless, the man lifted his chin and rolled his shoulders as he stepped into the ring. He cracked his knuckles, and Lucine tensed.

The Mirialan surged forward, not drawing any of his four blades but tackling her head on. His sheer weight and momentum crashed into her and drove them both to the floor. Yet, instead of feeling her bones bruise and head crack, Lucine's fall was cushioned by a hand wrapping around the back of her neck to cradle her skull, an arm under her shoulders saving her torso. Only her knees and elbows banged as their limbs tangled. Her ribs were crushed as he beared down on top of her.

Then, it was gone, and so were her supports, thumping her the inches left to the metal. He loomed over her, blocking out the light, and fingers settled over her neck, knees bracketing her chest. He leaned so close their noses brushed. She looked up in confusion at the dissonance of the situation, expecting malice, and found a serious but kind gaze instead.

"My name's Ruka, and I'm gonna help you," he said quickly with a hand around her throat before, with a surge of the Force she could sense, he threw himself backward, arcing through the air. He slammed into the electric fencing as if she'd thrown him telekinetically, writhing as he dropped back to the ground. The crowd around them seemed stunned a moment at the display they thought the woman had put on, then roared. For blood.

"Looks like we got a freak with us!" the controller said. "Maybe two! How's about we give them a real go? Shields up!"

Again, a cacophony of approval. Lucine scrambled to her feet again and assessed the situation, cursing to herself as she realized what was happening. The mercenary folk were all rapidly exiting the main hangar area, funneling into the observation deck as full energy shields flared to life on each wall of their prison.

Ruka was groaning as he got back up, and Lucine grit her teeth. She didn't have enough information for this, but she'd salvaged worse situations. For now, playing along was her best bet, whether Ruka actually intended to help her or not. When her senses stretched over him, she noticed only a commingling of sincerity and righteous anger. That almost made her smile.

Righteousness was so very malleable. Especially in most Near-Human men that rushed to the rescue. It was what made Strong one of her better toys.

Decided, Lucine gripped her saber again and activated the emerald blade. They already thought she was a Force-User — correctly or otherwise — so playing weak was no longer going to be convincing. Playing the impossible and untouchable though…

Perhaps this Ruka would be smart enough not to reveal himself, and use his swords instead. It would work in the narrative much more nicely—

The Mirialan of unknown origin took one look at her plasma blade and unclipped his own, its blue light lancing the air.

Oh, well, Lucine thought, before gracefully assuming a defensive stance, her body turned.

Ruka smirked, the Dark surging in reckless currents around him. Then, he launched himself into the air with a shout and came at her like a comet, his blow lancing down. She sidestepped and spun her weapon in a scintillating circle, batting his saber away with a perfect parry. The strength of it sent numbness down her arm, and she almost lost her grip as she smoothly shifted, turning away another rapid strike.

Ruka rushed into another chained attack, a leaping predator, and she saw in his face as he had to pull himself up short of muscle memory. He stumbled, trying to soften his blow, and it was enough for them to clumsily trip over each other. She batted his lightsaber towards the ground between them, and molten metal sprayed between their booted feet.

He was actually trying not to hurt her. Or a very convincing actor. Interesting.

You'll have to do better than that if you're going to help anyone, darling, Lucine thought directly into his mind, watching him flinch in surprise. Stars, but she was working with an amateur.

Taking advantage of his shock, she delivered a swift riposte, scoring a simmering line over his armor. He leapt away, growling, gaze narrowing.

She felt the crackling in the air before the lightning wreathed his hand and exploded from his palm.

The crowd roared in approval as the lightning arced toward her, jagged streaks of electricity that crackled with wicked purpose. Lucine’s smile never faltered as she fell back into her defensive posture, angling her blade across her body. The energy struck her lightsaber, causing the plasma blade to hiss and crackle as it acted as a ground for the lightning. When the energy was spent, she slashed downward in a showy arc even as she offered Ruka a smirk that was more for the crowd’s benefit than his.

But the Mirialan was undeterred. His face split into a grin as lighting wreathed his hand once more, before arcing toward the red-head. This, too, was grounded by her lightsaber, safely drawing the energy into the blade and away from her.

As she dealt with the lightning, she glanced briefly at the cheering crowd. There were too many of them to take on in direct combat. Furthermore, there were the shields that kept them contained in the ring; those would have to be taken down to make escape possible.

She could feel the pirates’ anticipation and bloodlust, which grew with every passing moment. They were enjoying the spectacle. As such, it was unlikely that they would be satisfied until either she or Ruka was soundly beaten and possibly dead.

But who should be the winner?

A flash of movement caught her eye and dragged her attention from her thoughts. She ducked as a blue lightsaber arced over her head. “You cut that a little close, darling,” she murmured, pitching her voice low to keep the onlookers from overhearing.

“Just making sure you’re paying attention,” Ruka retorted with a chuckle. He then launched into a chaotic series of attacks. His moves were showy, but also slow as he took pains to project his intended attacks with every movement. It allowed Lucine to easily block and parry his blade, though she made a grand show of occasionally losing ground to the Mirialan. As emerald and cerulean blades whirled and crackled with each strike and counter-strike, she gauged the reactions of the crowd. Ruka had begun the fight with a slight advantage, but the protracted lightsaber battle and her steady loss of ground had steadily shifted the favor of the crowd further in his direction. There was now little doubt who the pirates wanted to win.

“Quit playin’ around an’ kill ‘er already!”

“Come on, Flower-boy! I got a lot of creds ridin’ on yer win!” This last was said by the one who had first shoved Lucine into the hangar, a bulky and particularly stupid looking Besalisk. Lucine studied him appraisingly, before returning her attention to Ruka.

“Hear that, darling?” Lucine murmured as she inclined her head toward the crowd. “It appears that you are the favorite. At this point, I do not think they will be satisfied unless you win.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ruka replied with a stubborn set to his jaw. “I’m still gonna help you.”

“Oh, that is refreshing to hear!” the redhead said with a wicked grin. She darted forward abruptly, lashing out with her blade to push his lightsaber to the side, putting herself within his guard. Ruka instinctively tried to step back, and the redhead took advantage of his awkward posture to lash out with her foot, sweeping his planted leg out from under him.

The crowd erupted into boos and hisses as Ruka tumbled to the floor, his lightsaber skittering just out of reach. Lucine leveled her lightsaber on him as she said, loud enough for the crowd to hear: “But who is going to help you?”