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.

Whe Lontra came through the observation deck, Creon was already waiting for him. The dark hooded knight turned to have his mask face Lontra, and then turned back towards the arena.

"He is waiting for you," Creon's said with a gesture to the large black rancor resting patiently in the center of the arena. The feeling of fear came like a wave upon sight of the creature. Lontra's heart rate accelerated, in which Creon took notice with a slight tilt of his head.

"I feel mastered in ways to defeat other men, but not a beast such as this. This is a new challenge for me," Lontra said with a smile.

"It is as much as a challenge for him as well. You are helping me train him for the upcoming tournament. He will not eat you, and I expect you will not kill my friend," Creon replied.

With a heavy exhale Lontra looked nervous but nodded, "No promises. It can still accidentally squish my like a bug."

"He won't. He is here to learn same as you."

"And I'm suppose to just take your word for it, mister?" Lontra almost spat with stress.

A wave of what felt like pressure loomed over Lontra's mind. He felt the Force in Creon, and sensed a tethering connection between him and the beast. "Boss Creon," he replied.

Lontra almost wanted to laugh at the audacity of ego one would have to call themselves a boss, until his attention took notice of Creon's blaster pistol lightsaber holstered at the hip. He recognized the weapon as a badge of merit and rank within the Godless Matron's Syndicate. This had him raise a brow but stayed silent in respect. "I'd feel better if you were out there with us, as a sign of trust should things get out of hand."

Creon paused for a moment and then nodded, "Very well." He turned and picked up what looked to be a thick hammer resting upright next to him and placed it on his shoulder.

"Is that for when he acts out?" Lontra asked.

"No, it is for you."

This pushed a nerve that gave Lontra a dark frown as he walked with Creon from the observation deck towards the center of the arena. To think a hammer would be needed for a civilized man over a beast, and to assume that he could be defeated by such a primitive tool had Lontra's fingers twitch towards his lightsaber.

The shadow rancor awoke and turned to face them after they came within approximately 20 meters. It's knuckles pressed into the durasteel flooring, and it raised its head that showed a shock collar around the throat. The sight of the collar brought Lontra to ease, but it did little against his resolve from overcoming the fear of the fact he was about to face an actual rancor alone.

Creon walked to the side of the arena and gestured Lontra to the opposite end from where the rancor stood. Lontra walked past Creon and circled around until he stood across from the huge creature. He tried to think about what stories he'd tell at parties on how he was able to overcome such a fearsome foe, but the Rancor's scream snapped him back to the reality in coming to terms with what he is facing. He thought to first go for his lightsaber, but the glow of its blade would be for him like a Loth-cat chasing a laser pointer.

The rancor took the initiative and scurried towards Lontra with both arms extended. In seemingly superhuman speed Lontra was able to dash and circle around behind the behemoth. He took his lightsaber and threw it towards the rancor and then ran the opposite direction. The orange hue of its blade spun like a wheel until it made contact on the creature's shoulder. It's cut wasn't too deep, but had the rancor turn towards the pain with a large sweep with its claws. It's turn brought it's back to where Lontra now stood. As the blade was coming back through telekinesis, so too did he channel the Force telekinetically in attempts to grab the creature and lift it from the ground.

"Size matters not," Lontra whispered before gritting his teeth in strain to force the rancor afloat. Unlike the heavy stones Lontra would train with, he knew the Force moved through a living creature in a more condensed a d complex way by comparison. Thus his command of the Force to grip it was contested by the creatures' affinity. At first he was confident to rise to such a challenge, yet in failure to do so he sensed resistance that came not from the creature's living essence in the Force, but instead by its tethered connection to Creon. When he tried to move the creature, it was if Creon subtlety worked to stop him.

"Hey! I saw that!" Lontra barked just after catching his returning lightsaber. "Stop the fight!"

Creon shook his head, "This is part of the test."

"The hell it is! You can't tell me there are monsters out there that resistant to the Force!"

"You must have heard of when the ascendancy attacked Kiast. I was there, and there were such creatures."

Lontra threw his saber again, in which its shining glow captured the Rancor's attention once again. Creon tried to bring the creature to focus with his connection, but Lontra's telekinesis in mimicry of a familiar kickboxing combination sent striking blows to the rancor until the blade was able to slash across its back. The reptile fell to a knee from a strike, and Lontra was able to pick up a path where he dashed to the knee and jumped high off of it and above the rancor's head. The orange lightsaber came to Lontha's hand just as he landed and posed with its edge pointed down for an executionary stab.

"Call it off!" Lontra screamed. The rancor tried to reach on its head to grab Lontra, but he was able to jump away and land a safe distance away. His pistol with was then drawn and aimed at the approaching giant. The sense of fear pulsed in the Force from Creon upon sight of its trandoshan tripler. "This will kill it!" Lontra warned. It was within the frames from his warning that the thought of the creature's innocence and ignorance was not to blame, but to that of Creon's enforcement. His instinct drew the barrel to aim and fire instead at Creon before darting once again away from the rancor's rampage.

Creon's instinct was almost as quick as Lontra's turn to fire at him in stepping away from the blaster bolt's trajectory. Almost simultaneously did a cloaking shield cover Creon along with a projection of his likeness from the holoshroud on his belt. Lontra could pick up on sight the connective lines of hologram light that faded in and out in reaching towards its projecting image, allowing him to trace its point of origin. Yet the presence of the Rancor distracted him from keeping concentration on Creon's position. He could suddenly sense a growing channeling of rage from the Dark Side. The rancor's face of aggression towards Lontra was powerful and full of hunger and malice. It roared at the top of its lungs.

"A challenge indeed," Lontra hissed in response.

The words of the Arconan drowned in the roar of the Shadow Rancor.

When the deafening blast came to an end, the beast followed up by smashing its barrel-sized fists together into the hanger floor. The durasteel released a dull thud from the weight and Lontra Boglach had to steady himself from the vibration that followed. The arcanist’s left knee ached from his attempt to brace, betraying an old policing injury that never properly healed, yet the Arconan stood stoically in defiance of the creature’s tantrum.

The scene was reminiscent to Lontra of the cheeky detective series he loved to watch on the holonet. The type that would have froze the camera’s view on the back of the hero as he stared up at the monster that had been unleashed upon him. The narration of the hero would have then cut in with some smartass remark, baiting the viewer to continue watching to see how the hero got out of this mess.

Instead, the Shadow Rancor leaned forward and scraped its claws across the arena floor. The durasteel shrieked in protest as tiny metallic bits twisted under the points of the beast’s talons. When that failed to get a reaction, the Rancor bellowed a second roar that was so vitriol that Lontra was showered in Rancor spit.

I bet that felt like the ride your mother gave you when she birthed you into this world. The foul thought came through Lontra’s comlink in Droidspeak. The hair on the man’s neck raised as a fury flooded Lontra’s head, yet the man failed to respond before the Droidspeak continued. It’s trying to get you to run-

The idea came through the man’s headset at the same time Lontra’s legs put him back into motion. An almost gleeful bark came from the Shadow Rancor as it lunged forward, chasing after the Arconan as he fled the makeshift arena. While Lontra had the grace to leap over the barriers, the beast plowed through the force barriers with an annoyed snarl.

You idjit.

“Riptide?” Lontra panted through his headset as he headed towards the side of the hanger that was still operational, passing under the observation deck he had entered from. “Where are you?”

On your left. As Lontra made it to the first set of fabricator arms, he turned to his left expecting to see his black and orange astromech. Instead, a green blade leapt into existence from the blurred shadows and Creon appeared behind the blade. The Jedi proceeded to shout as he rushed forward, his lightsaber pistol raised high over his right shoulder and intent on cutting the Arconan down.

A crackling sound rumbled through the bay when Creon’s blade smashed into the activated buckler on the Arconan’s left forearm. The weight of the attack forced the Arconan to the ground, where he rolled a couple of meters away before resting on his back beneath the fabricator arms. Yet, the scream of stressed durasteel brought Lontra’s sight up in time to catch the first arm being stripped from the wall as the Rancor barrelled towards him. Lontra was quick to rest his right forearm on the metal frame of the buckler in front of him, thumbing the hairtrigger of his vambrace which immediately whooshed at the charging Rancor.

Bright oranges, yellows, and reds spun from below the Arcantist’s wrist and created a fiery vortex that lept towards the black skin of the Rancor’s face. The raging beast bellowed and backed away from the flames, which gave Lontra the room he needed to stand in an effort to pursue the retreating creature. Yet, as the creature’s scream faded as it fled from the flamethrower; the room was filled with the panicked protest of Creon.

“Don’t!” The strained shout of the Odanite proceeded a hard impact into Lontra’s side as Creon tackled the Arconan into the wall. A dull thud from their weight flexing the wall brought a stillness to the room as the pair wrestled from the wall to the ground and rolled back and forth before exhaust wore on them and brought them to a tight hold of each other.

“How simple are you?!” Lontra broke the silence with a frustrated lecture. “Do you really think you can let that thing do all your fighting for you in the tournament? Even if you did, how could you ever be called champion when it was the beast that won your fights for you?”

Lontra didn’t bother to wait for an answer from the other man. When he felt the Odanite prepare to respond, he released his hold of the man and pushed off - breaking the other man’s grasp. The pair exchanged minor scuffles as each regained their feet while throwing poorly timed kicks or off-balanced slaps on the other. When the pair had reached a comfortable distance from the other, the room filled with a low, drawn-out growl that brought shivers down the Arconan’s spine.

“More importantly…” Lontra continued, pointing over the shoulder of the Odanite to the long talons that danced a few meters behind Creon. “Are you able to maintain control of that thing when you’ve been distracted and it’s been harmed in the pursuit of your commands?”

The question was left an uncomfortably long time in the air before the Rancor’s roar cut the tension.

“Rip!” Lontra keyed his comlink before taking off running through the maintenance area. Unless he had gained deity-status, then there was only one area left for the astromech. “Are you plugged into the control room?”

Does a porg with a boner drag seaweed? The sad whistle of the droid matched the imagery he created.

“Send it!”