Built from the shell of an ancient foundation, the Arx Colosseum has undergone renovations to allow multiple new configurations for battle. Its spectator setup remains largely the same, with high walls, tall enough for even the most savvy Jedi to find unscalable that lead up to spectator chairs which are divided into nearly organized sections to accommodate several thousand people. At the center, an elongated platform “box” contains 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 match bia holocam drones.

Today’s setup is known as The Shanty Town.

Hundreds of shipping containers line the arena floor, some stacked tall, others singular obstacles forming the walls of a complex maze. Each has been converted to function as housing, windows, doors, even furnishments added to further sell the illusion of it being a living town.

While the only real life contained within is today’s combatants, that is far from the only level of danger found within.

Dozens of armed and battle-ready droids hide in wait. Turrets and barricades line the narrow passageways of the town. Expertly hidden mines wait to trigger with every step. Make no mistake, the Shanty Town is ready to kill all who enter it. Embracing its chaos, and surviving is no easy feat.

’...two enter, one will leave!’

Kordath Bleu woke with a groan as a voice that sounded an awful lot like it was coming from a speaker rang through his dreams. He rubbed his tired face and aching head, then blinked a few times. He looked down at the bottle in his hand, then at his state of relative undress. The purple ribbon was still wrapped around his wrist, at least, but aside from a foam finger that he vaguely recalled getting at a sporting event the night prior at a stadium in Arx…

“What tha bleedin’ ‘ell did I do last night?” he questioned aloud, groaning as he looked around the area. Battered, broken-down homes stretched out for as far as the eye could see, with tall walls beyond in every direction.

“Did nae know Arx had any slums yet…how forward thinkin’ of ‘em to prepare ahead o’ time.”

He stumbled out of the alleyway he’d woken up, swearing he was never leaving home for a ‘vacation’ without his wife ever again. He’d thought he’d outgrown waking up in dumpsters and in the garbage, but here he was, hungover and lost. Turning a corner, he spotted a patrol of droids, which he promptly tried to flag down for directions or information. What he hadn’t expected was a volley of blaster fire from the blasted machines, prompting him to dive through a window to scramble away. Out the back of the building and a few steps later, he found himself flung into the air by a concussion mine, only the sixth sense for danger and trust in the Force allowing him to shield himself moments before the blast went off.

The Ryn landed on a metal roof with a loud thud and lay there, groaning up at the sky.

“You make a lot of noise,” came a quiet voice from nearby, prompting him to squint open an eye and turn to spot a… Twi’lek? Blue of skin, and small, even to him… and heavily armed.

“Aye… not me best day.”

“Well you could always surrender and get it over with,” she flashed him a kind smile, even as she drew a blaster pistol. “Then you could go back to sleep, or whatever it is you were doing… that left you like this.”

Kordath looked down at himself and felt a bit of a blush, his tail flicking nervously.

“Yer, ah, pullin’ that pistol cause o’ tha droids, yeah?” he asked slowly, rolling onto his front and bracing his feet against the roof, hunched over much like a sprinter’s start.

“Well… yes and no? Surrender, and I won’t have to use it!” she said with a bit too much mirth in her voice as she began to level the weapon towards the disoriented Ryn.

“Blast,” he muttered and took off at a run up the rooftop. Shots rang out, scorching the metal roof in his wake. “Surrender ta who? Ta what? What tha bleedin’ ‘ell is happenin’ ‘ere, luv!?”

“The match!” she shouted after him, firing more bolts his way as he scrambled to the next rooftop and back down into the alleyway. He scurried away much like the rodent so many people thought he looked like.

“What bleedin’ match?” he muttered to himself. Shadows crossed above him as the Twi’lek woman hopped from rooftop to rooftop in pursuit. “Someday, Kord, yer gonna learn how ta use a bleedin’ gun,” he grumbled, trying to find cover as inexpertly fired shots came down at him. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t that good of a shot when she had a high vantage point and he had no cover.

Scrambling through another open window, the Ryn slumped against the wall, taking a few deep breaths. A thud could be heard above on the metal roof and a cursory check through the Force let him know she was, just above him. Going very still, he hoped she’d keep going. After all, it wasn’t like she was a Force Sensitive and could tell he was there, right? What were the odds of a Force User? On Arx? His line of reasoning made him sigh as he realized how stupid it was.

Seconds later, a bright green saber blade jabbed through the metal and made a quick circle cut. The woman dropped into the shack in front of him, brandishing the pistol towards him in one hand and a sly smile on her face.

“Ah… hi there,” stated Kordath, holding his free hand up, palm out, the bottle in the other still awkwardly clutched by the foam finger. “Lovely weather we be havin’, eh?”

“Nice place you got here… now you going to yield, or do I have to shoot you?” she asked brightly, a disarming smile on her face.

For some reason, he didn’t trust her, but he really wanted to believe she wouldn’t shoot him if he gave up. Something about the armor she wore gave him worrying vibes. The design was scratching a memory in his hungover brain that told him he should be running away.

“Well, ya see…I always find that givin’ up ta strange women who be shootin’ at me only goes one o’ two ways, lass, and I’m a married man these days, so….” he gave a regretful shrug, and snapped the fingers on his upheld hand. The moment her eyes flickered toward his hand, he let forth a burst of Force-conjured light, filling the shack with a brilliant flash of white.

Kordath didn’t even bother trying to hit her while she was blinded, instead scuttling past and out the door, trying to put distance between himself and the lightsaber-wielding woman.

“Gotta find a comm station and call me wife,” he muttered, “maybe she can send someone ta pick me up. Or… call someone else… Zuji gonna give me a bleedin’ earful for slippin’ inta me old ways”

“Aaahhh!” the Twi’lek groaned as she shielded her eyes a second too late. “Why’d you do that? Winbekhia.” Sinya’ni rubbed her eyes as she felt her opponent slip away. She let him go. After all, it was best to let her eyes recover before facing off again. “This isn’t going to be as easy as I’d thought.” Her chagrin at his disorderly appearance was now replaced with annoyance. “Go ahead and run, winbekhia. I’ll find you.”

Kordath made his way down the abandoned streets. The brain fog quickly lifted as he narrowly avoided more battle droids in his search for a holoterminal. “Ya know, for a town this big, they don’t seem keen on communicating. Now, how do I get out of here before that kid starts shooting at me again?” He picked a direction and started forward when the hair stood up on the back of his neck and he felt the need to look down. It was a karking mine! And he had stepped right on it…

Sinya’ni took a moment to center herself before resuming the chase. Reaching out with her feelings, she could sense the droid patrols, the turrets, the mines. Her quarry had made good time. He had gone beyond her ability to sense him, but the stones remember it’d be simple work to make them talk. She exited the cargo crate masquerading as a home and began the ritual. Green ichor flowed from her hands and into the stones of the street and began to take form. The green effigy of the disheveled Rynn began running haphazardly down the block and–.

The explosion broke her concentration as she at once knew what direction her opponent had fled. Though she did not know his conditions, or if this meant the end of their game. She ran towards the sound, being careful to avoid the droids and mines herself. As she drew near, she paused for a moment to bend the light around her small frame, becoming practically invisible. She gripped the inactivated hilt of her lightsaber and slowly rounded the corner….

He’d tried to pull a trick that some of the kids had talked about, pushing the pressure plate of the mine down with a little telekinetic nudge, and stepping off. Between his head ringing and the vaguely Ryn-shaped crater imprinted into the shed, Kordath found himself slumped against said shed, suggesting it hadn’t worked, as it had instead hurled him into the sheet metal. Somehow, he’d managed to keep a hold of his bottle because some things were more important.

“Gotta… get up… gotta get back… ta Zuji…” he mumbled, holding his aching head, blinking and trying to focus.

Gray eyes angled up to blink and look down the alleyway. He froze, certain he had a concussion as a wee blue goblin was menacingly approaching, shuttering in and out of existence like one of those things on the horror holos.

“Stay away… ya little goblin…” he slurred, trying to get to his feet and promptly stumbling sideways, back into the wall. With effort, he lifted the bottle, staring at it, then at the… Twi’lek approaching as a flicker. With a sigh of remorse, he took a swig of the whiskey with a misguided hope that the burning, wonderful elixir would help the ringing in his head, before flinging the bottle down the alley towards her.

It smashed into the side of a shack, raining whiskey over the woman who was half there, half not, to the concussed Ryn. He heard a shout of, ‘Winbekhia!’ from the woman as she quit trying to hide herself, blinking away the sting of alcohol in her eyes and coughing at the smell of it.

“What is wrong with you, Winbekhia!?” she yelled, stalking towards the half-naked, woozy looking man. Her black eyes widened in alarm as he produced a single vibroknuckler from somewhere while rising unsteadily. She finally glared at him, pushing out with Force, into his addled mind.

“Stop it!” she commanded, snapping her fingers at him, a faint green glow about her eyes as her words sank into his head, causing the Ryn to sway in place. Anger burned in her eyes, she waved her hand again, ”Hit yourself” she hissed, her words laden with power.

The command worked its way through Bleu’s fuzzy, buzzed and concussed head.… He nodded, lifting his hand, and punched himself in the face with the foam finger.

The Twi’lek sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, her lekku curling in frustration. Why had her first match been against a drunken buffoon? He was still smacking himself with the foam hand, to little effect.

“So…how long am I smackin’ meself with this?”

“Until I say you’re done—” she blinked, realizing he’d slipped out of her control, his natural willpower or distractible nature allowing him to act of his own free will once more. With a quiet anger, she hooked her saber hilt back to her belt before brandishing the other one,snapping the hissing red blade to life. The crimson glow perfectly reflected the mood the man had put her in. She half-turned and gripped the hilt firmly.

“I was going to let you surrender, Winbekhia.”

The tiny blue nightsister growled at the Ryn. Why was he so infuriating? Probably because despite his complete lack of preparedness and whitt, she had not been able to put an end to this farce. Well, that and being blinded and then doused in alcohol didn’t help.

“You obviously think this is a joke or you think I’m a joke. Either way, I’m not juy yelniyo anymore. This ends now!” Her words were accented by the sudden burst of lightning emanating from her outstretched fingers.

The scent of burning flesh filled the air. The diminutive Twi’lek looked up at the charred and steaming bodies of her crew. The people she had, just moments before, trusted with her life. The people who she thought of as family. Her fingers ached. The dark side energy had poured out of them in a torrential storm of raw emotion. She looked down at the lifeless body of A’dara in her lap. The captain’s vibroblade still protruding from her almost lover’s back. Tears flowed freely as she gave in to the grief– the snaphiss of a lightsaber igniting abruptly pulled the Rylothian from her reverie.

“Where did you go just now?” Kordath stood over her in his dirty underwear with her own red bladed lightsaber in his hand. Sinya’ni was kneeling on the floor, mascara running down her face in multiple little rivulets of her tears.

The tears stopped and the grief on her face was replaced by anger. “None of your business. Why do you have my lightsaber! Give it back!” she snarled as she lunged for the weapon.

Kord sidestepped, “I don’t think so. You’re welcome to surrender.” He smirked as he brandished the blade with the practiced ease of a master. He was obviously a well trained Jedi or something. The Rylothian growled to herself, “Tah kark doth kankahuesa mee cet mi mo.” Her purple plasma blade sprung to life as she attacked the homeless looking Ryn. She moved cautiously, keeping her guard up and making quick slashes and thrusts. The Ryn parried the thrusts and dodged the slashes for a while but it was soon obvious that he was not as skilled with a saber as he had first appeared. Sinya’ni became more aggressive, sacrificing defense for a more powerful offense. Her saber lashed out from the left then the right, she spun and ducked and twirled.

Kordath did his best to keep up the facade but was soon overwhelmed by the little blue goblin’s purple blade. Even knowing where she would strike and his incredible endurance was no match for her lightsaber skills. He gave up parring all together as lithe muscular body contorted this way and that, avoiding her strikes. Unitil finally he held up his hand and the amethyst blade impacted against a shimmering wall of energy. “Enough!” he commanded as he dropped the barrier and slammed her with a telekinetic blast. The small nightsister was thrown back several meters and landed on her feet like a Loth cat.

Sinya sprinted back towards her opponent at full speed when her already large eyes suddenly widened in fear. It was too late to avoid it, the path was set and the momentum carried her forward onto the primed land mine. She screamed as the explosion sent her flying straight up. A shimmering ethereal barrier wrapped in flames and debris slammed to the ground, popping like a soap bubble as the wind was knocked out of the tiny combatant. Gasping for breath, Sinya’ni rolled to her feet to face the white haired menace that has now completely ruined this rotation. Click

The look of fear and defeat played across the orphan’s face. Kordath slowly approached, deactivating the stolen lightsaber. “I could help you with that,” he motioned towards the mine under the Twi’lek’s foot. “I have some experience with disarming explosives.”

Sinya’ni stood very still hardly daring to breath. “Yes, please.” She murmured.

“Ok, just one thing. A formality really. I need to to accept defeat before I help you.” A satisfied smile spread across his face. “A bit of bad luck really, but I’d rather not have you end me while I’m hunched over at your feet. I’m sure you understand.” The Rylothian’s face soured. As she absorbed the futility of her situation. She nodded carefully. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to need to hear you say it.”

“Yes! I concede the battle,” Sinya’ni blurted out before turning white as a sheet. “Please just disarm this thing before I am killed, or..” she looks at all the scars sported by her foe turned rescuer…”horribly disfigured.” The Ryn smiled reassuringly as he got to work on the mine.