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.

"I want you to test him, see his capabilities. If he wants to be a pilot on the Flagship, then he must best you."

This was an unconventional battle. Unlike tradition, where battles normally took place inside the Godless Matron, Gehn sat relaxed in the cockpit seat of his TIE/D Defender just outside the sealed hangar bay. He was in his dark grey engineering uniform, without his hat for once, but donned a breath mask to be able to breathe. While the fighter did not have open life support aside from an oxygen generator, the cockpit was pressurized at the least. There were dozens of other pilots, he thought, that could have been chosen for this. He almost feeling bad for Deezn. Just reading over his personnel profile, there was a solid difference in their piloting abilities. How could the Rodian possibly best him like the Grand Admiral had asked? Should he give him opportunities to do so and see if he capitalizes upon them like an effective pilot would? Or should he go all out in this training battle and end it quickly to demonstrate the caliber of which the pilots of the flagship Leviathan are held to? Countless thoughts and scenarios ran through his head as he held his eyes closed, quietly listening to the soft hum of the engines. He had to distract himself.

Just then, the sensor panel in front of him began beeping quickly with successive beeps and a flashing red light. Gehn opened his eyes and leaned forward, looking at the panel. It was as he thought, Deezn had arrived. The signature and code from one of the Leviathan's TIE/D Defenders appeared. So not only was he certain about this, he had also chosen the same fighter as him. The TIE/D Defender was a difficult craft to pilot, and to his knowledge the Rodian did not have experience with them. He could, however, have had prior experience or familiarity with them. This was the only unknown variable that he saw.

He reached out with his right hand and gripped the throttle. As soon as the encrypted communications channel went live he thrusted it forward. The TIE/D Defender shot from it's holding position out into space, turning upwards and to the left to meet up with the approaching Defender.

"Defender 2-7, this is Oracle Leader. Acknowledge message receipt." Gehn spoke into the small microphone on the front panel. The distance gauge between the two was quickly closing on the tracking screen.

"Oracle Leader, this is Defender 2-7. Receipt acknowledged., the voice of Deezn Jarok came back across, *"It's an honor to fly with you today, sir."

"The honor is all mine, 2-7. Switch weapons configuration to simulation mode, we start in twenty seconds." Gehn said back as he flipped several overhead switches, disabling the live fire sequence of his cannons and missiles, enabling the simulated fire mode. It would track where actual shots would move as if they were attacking each other with actual live weapons, logging when if any hits were to be registered on either fighter by either combatant.

When the time left was but five seconds, he touched a small green button on his left console and music began playing within the pressurized cockpit. It started off with a simple guitar riff and drum beat, before vocals began. "Danger zone, baby. Training sequence, commence."

Gehn pushed the throttle the rest of the way forward, red trails of light now following behind his fighter as its speed significantly increased. He pulled up on the yoke, the fighter moving upwards towards a small cluster of asteroids that were not far away from the station. Deezn made the same maneuver and followed him up into it, pulling the trigger on his own yoke as the cannons lit up; but did not fire. Flashes of light appeared on the asteroids as Gehn weaved through them in an evasive manner, but not a single flash on the fighter.

As they flew through the field, the Ugnaught made a sharp turn around one of the larger asteroids before he suddenly pulled back on the throttle, igniting the thrusters to turn his fighter in a quick 180 degree motion. As soon as he was facing the opposite direction, he thrust the throttle forward once more and shot back in the opposite direction just as Deezn was coming around the asteroid as well. Gehn flipped a small panel on his yoke up, and pressed a red button underneath it as they were passing by each other, a bright red light appearing on the Rodian's fighter. "Missile strike, you're dead."

"It's on." Deezn came across the communicator, his voice filled with determination. Though it was super rare to do so, Gehn gave a small smile under his breath mask. This was indeed going to be fun.

Deezn adjusted his breathing mask, his green skin beading with moisture. Not a good start, he thought. He’d come to this training session cocksure and eager but the excitement of anticipation was rapidly turning into existential dread. It had taken his would-be opponent a measly few maneuvers and a fancy pull around an asteroid to plug him with a simulated missile. Had this been real, he’d already be dead and floating in space, all those hours spent in simulations a complete and utter waste. What a joke.

He closed his eyes, inhaled, then blew into the breathing mask. He opened his eyes.

It’s on, he repeated to himself as he tightened his grip on the yolk and thrust the throttle forward. The familiar whine of the TIE/D Defender filled the cockpit and he shot through the asteroid field. Gehn was hard on his tail already. The navicomputer’s proximity sensors were screaming at Deezn as he leveled the fighter so close to a large asteroid that he was raising a cloud of dust in his wake. Gehn unleashed a salvo, each simulated hit ending against the rock. He tried another missile but this one missed. It would have torn through the asteroid and pelted their ships with debris. Risky, Deezn thought as he pulled back on the yoke, bringing the ship up and around in a spiral, weaving through the field, banking the yolk left and right, rolling the TIE in tight arcs. He wasn’t winning any dogfights but maybe—just maybe—if he managed to confuse and outmaneuver his opponent he could land a shot.

Simulated shots lit up the back of the ship.

“That’s two hits dead center, champ,” announced Gehn through the comm. Deezn could have sworn there was contempt in his voice. “Your reactor would be exploding right about now.”

Deezn pulled back on the throttle, bringing the ship to a stop. E chu ta! He smashed his fist against the controls as Gehn’s ship shrieked past him. He could almost hear the Ugnaught laughing at him from across space. Deezn had been so sure of himself. He always said to anyone who’d listen that he only felt at home behind the cockpit, that there was nowhere he would rather be. At that moment, he would have rather been anywhere else.

He slapped the thruster and his ship spat forward again. It was his turn to chase and chase he did, matching Gehn’s every move as he spun left then right, up and around, needling his way through the asteroid field with finesse that would’ve been awe-inspiring had Deezn not been fuming. The moment he saw an opening, he pulled the triggers on his yolk and asteroid after asteroid were lit up as he unleashed a relentless barrage of fake shots, not one of them connecting.

With each shot, Deezn could feel his blood boil over. It was only after a moment that he realized he was screaming. The sound died in his throat as he shook his head. This wasn’t like him. But then, losing wasn’t like him either, and it all seemed so futile to him. He pulled back on the thruster and brought the ship around, then punched it back to full, diving back into the asteroid field.

“2-7, where are you going?” The confusion was clear in Gehn’s voice. Then it was mockery. ”Running away are we?”

Gehn’s words were like a bucket of ice cold water. Deezn shook his head, realizing how foolish he was being. He needed to focus. He needed to set aside his pride, his ego, this blasted need to be the best. He wasn’t the best, and he had to be ok with that. He could learn from this. He should learn from this.

“Come and get me, sleemo,” said Deezn into the communicator.

“Oh, don’t you worry, boy. I’m coming.”

This time, Gehn stayed on Deezn like a flea on a Quenker. No matter how many turns or tight maneuvers the Rodian made, he was on him.

Narrowly slicing through two asteroids before they collided? He made it through too. Weaving through the narrow exterior passages and dodging the frame of the Godless Matron? Matched movement for movement.

But he did not fire on the Rodian. Instead, he watched him. How he maneuvered, how he reacted when he lined up every potential shot and every firing lock that he knew was pinging on his console.

At this point, he had seen enough. Gehn then threw the throttle straight forward and shot ahead of Deezn, letting him take the same position he was in previously. Now he wanted to see how he handled.

Gehn took similar paths that Deezn had taken, but far tighter and faster. He could tell the Rodian was having significant trouble keeping up, but was giving it his all. On one final turn, Gehn skimmed the edge of a large asteroid. Deezn however, in the same maneuver, not just skimmed it but took off one entire section of plating.

Gehn backed off on the throttle and drew his fighter next to his. "You alright, 2-7? You did extremely well."

"Yeah...I'm fine. Just a hurt ego," the Rodian said across the comm, "Guessing I wont be flying, huh?"

"On the contrary," Gehn reassured, "While not refined, you have the potential to be an ace pilot in time. While it wont be with Oracle Squadron, I will recommend you are brought on the Leviathan within one of the squadrons."

"T-thank you, sir."

"You're welcome, 2-7. You've earned it."

Deezn was struggling to remain polite. Nothing like a good string of expletives to take the edge off, a friend used to tell him but he couldn’t afford it, not when they were evaluating it. His behavior would go a long way to securing his spot on the Taldryan fleet. Gehn was kind enough, supportive even, and sure, one could qualify the outcome as a success, but it sure didn’t feel like one. He was going home with his tail between his legs, pride in a carbonized pile of ash. He was just about ready to ground the TIE inside the Matron, leave this whole blasted notion of becoming a starfighter pilot behind him and crawl home where he could get right and drunk.

Yet, something bothered him. It niggled at the back of his mind. He was better than this. He had to be. He could do it. He could beat that Ugnaught.

“Hey Oracle Leader?” he asked.

“What is it, 2-7?” Gehn responded.

“How about one more go?”

“2-7, you took out your undercarriage plating on that last run. You pull something like that again, this training session is getting a whole different outcome. You’re good, kid. There’s no one you need to impress.” “Yeah, I get that, Oracle Leader. Doesn’t change a thing. I want another run,” Deezn insisted.

There was a long and strained silence. After a moment, he expected Gehn to order him to land the ship. Had he just ruined his chances by insisting? Maybe he was being too cocky? Oh, blast it!

There was a sigh and Gehn finally answered, “Fine. Watch yourself, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Stupid ain’t in my blood, sir,” Deezn said.

“We’ll see about that.” With that, Gehn’s TIE shrieked past him.

He punched the throttle and launched in pursuit. Deezn could tell the Ugnaught was eager to put his foolish notions to rest from the way he was flying. He was wove through space with the grace of Twi’lek dancer, his fighter spinning as he swung around the Godless Matron and plunged back towards the asteroid field. He shot through space faster than he had in any previous run. Deezn didn’t take the bait this time. He maintained at a steady pace, keeping Gehn’s ship in his sights. His fingers cradled the yolk’s triggers but he didn’t shoot. He could shoot all he wanted, he’d get the same results as before. He had to be patient. He had to choose his moment. He took a deep breath as they reached the asteroid field.

Don’t stress, he reminded himself.

The leading TIE plunged through a gaping hole in one asteroid then swerved on the exit, switching trajectories with expert handling. Deezn risked an increase in speed and dove beneath the rock instead of going through it, then kept diving even as he kept an eye on the enemy fighter. The asteroid field was less mercurial the lower he went. Down there things moved with diminished velocity, floating in a more orderly fashion, with more space to maneuver. Watching, studying, biding his time, he matched Gehn’s path from below as the adept pilot cut a winding path from asteroid to asteroid.

“You back there, boy?” The voice over the comm sounded almost worried.

“Right here.” Thrusters roaring, Deezn yanked the yolk back into his chest. The ship shot upwards like a missile. Gotcha. He pulled the triggers as the TIE crossed into his sights. The starboard wing lit up.

Yes!

The Rodian whooped and pumped his fist as his fighter barreled past Gehn’s ship.

“Good move, kid. You got me. Let’s go h—” Gehn stopped for a split second before screaming, “Watch out!”

Deezn never saw the asteroid coming. Before he could react, his port-side wing broke off with a crack of thunder and lightning.

---

“Hey, kid, wake up.”

The voice seemed distant, the echo of an echo. A hand tapped his cheek a few times. Deezn groaned as he opened his eyes, the ceiling of Hangar Zerek overhead. He recoiled against the brightness of the light then shielded his large Rodian eyes with one hand. Slowly, begrudgingly, he tried to pull himself up on one elbow but everything started spinning around him, his stomach threatening to eject his half-digested rations. He gave up and sank back down, defeated. Gehn’s face appeared overhead, his swine-like features split by a frown and a furrowed brow.

“You’ll live,” he announced.

“Ugh, doesn't feel like it,” Deezn croaked. He ran his hand over his head through the spines and bristles, “What happened?”

“You got cocky is what happened, laserbrain,” the Ugnaught’s voice was stern, humorless.

Deezn winced as the specifics of his situation dawned on him. I’ve made a huge mistake, he thought. He threw his legs over the side of the cot and forced himself to sit up, the pain and the nausea a well-deserved punishment. He stared at his feet for a moment, terrified to make eye contact with the Ugnaught. He took a deep breath then looked up in surrender.

“Should I pack my things, sir?”

Gehn raised an eyebrow, “As I said, unrefined, but you’ve got potential. Besides, you’ll need a way to earn credits if you’re going to compensate us for that ship.”

Deezn slumped back down with a whimper.

Turns out stupid’s in my blood, afterall.