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.

Gravel crunched under Katrila’s boot as she stepped into the colosseum. The stacked shipping containers towered above her. The whole setup felt a little uncanny. These containers had been stacked to form a maze and meticulously designed to mimic the facade of a town, but it lacked a certain gritty resilience and cultural vibrancy. When she visited the slums outside of Ord Mantell’s capital, bass lines bumped as young people listened to music and played games in the streets. Colorful crafts fashioned out of upcycled refuse popped against the makeshift housing’s gray and beige palette. Here an eerie quiet pervaded, the hushed roar of a spectating crowd only underlining the lack of life in the shanties.

That wasn’t entirely accurate. On the other side of the stadium one life roamed among the labyrinth, her enemy in the Singularity tournament. This battle wasn’t only a test of skill, but a chance to establish a place in the Brotherhood’s hierarchy. She relished outmaneuvering her competitors in the black markets of the Galaxy’s underworld, but the time had come to prove her worth in a more selective environment. To the matter at hand, Katrila, she thought, pulling up her armor’s cowl to conceal her face below her emerald green eyes.

The Plagueian slinked into the corridor-like street. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the grip of her sniper pistol. She created a mental model of the arena with every turn. Left. Left. Right. As she plodded along, sticking to the flimsy metal wells as much as she could, each footfall grounded her in the Force, the living power within her and around her. This expanded awareness seemed to guide her steps, warning her of mine embedded in the center of the path ahead of her or a turret waiting to be tripped should she enter a darkened alleyway.

Katrila’s eyes narrowed as she detected a presence, an imprint in the Force the next street over. Light and darkness ebbed and flowed through this being like currents, not opposing one another but harmonious. Those currents ripped strongly as though a storm raged, betraying a great power at work. Still, the order seemed precarious somehow, a balance waiting to be tipped. My enemy reveals himself.

Across the way, the door of one of the artificial dwellings stood ajar. The Togorian ducked inside. The outdoor light cast long shadows across the raggedy furnishings. Before she could marvel at the Combat Master’s dedication to verisimilitude or wonder how he had sourced such antique appliances, her ears flicked to the side as a growl emanated from deeper in the house. She activated her blaster’s laser sight, but it was too late; a beast leapt at her from behind a chair, baring its teeth. It knocked her down, sharp claws scraping against the matte black breastplate of her armor. A swift kick sent it flying back; in the momentary reprieve she recognized its lupine form, piercing blue eyes, and motley fur as a Cynthraul. “Karking dog!” she hissed. Canines brought out a rare feeling in her, something between rage and disgust. Her ears lay flat to the side as she trained the red laser dot on the wolf, now baring its teeth and barking loudly.

“Kal’ceran! Heel,” a modulated voice called. Katrila scrambled to her feet as the dog ceased barking and trotted over to the armored figure standing in the doorway. “You’ve chosen a poor place to hide.”

“Hiding wasn’t the plan,” replied Katrila, who now recognized a Mandalorian from the infamous T-shaped visor. Her eyes glimpsed a lightsaber hilt in the hand that patted the Cynthraul’s head; the other hand held one, too. She swung the pistol toward him. “I prefer the fight.” Taunting wasn’t exactly her style, but she had to say something, especially since she never backed down from a fight. Cheap shots and dirty tricks, sure. But hiding? Never.

The Mandalorian nodded, igniting his lightsabers. The blades, one black and one white, completed the stripes adorning his black armor. He turned sideways and widened his stance. The light blade guarded his form while the dark extended toward his opponent. “Then your wish shall be granted,” the deep, robotic voice declared. Aiden lunged, thrusting his blade at Katrila.

With elegant and seemingly effortless precision, the midnight blade skewered the air. Destined to pierce her shoulder, the swiftness of the strike was nearly too much for the Togorian to evade, but she was agile and her catlike reflexes served her well. She hopped backward out of the blade's reach as her trigger finger twitched, unleashing a barrage of blaster fire on her enemy.

Behind his helmet, Aiden’s expression was unimpressed. White and black blades swirled with refined reactivity, redirecting the bolts into the walls and paper-thin windows around them. A few even purposefully missed their adversary by a narrow margin, almost as if to prove a point. Katrila hadn't been facing some random Novitiate. She was facing a Master now.

“For one so eager to challenge, is this the best you can do?” The modulated voice of Aiden Lee Deshra hid none of his boredom. He joined this competition looking for a worthy opponent. The Mandalorian loved a good scuffle and so far this ‘cat’ didn’t meet his expectations.

“You might regret asking me that.” Katrila holstered her blaster, and a lightsaber slid into her grasp from its hidden sheath. With a slow hiss, the crimson-red blade extended out, its low hum reverberating. Turning slightly to the side with a relaxed hold on her saber, the Plagueian gave a predatory grin from beneath her cowl.

Leaping forward with feline grace and speed, her body spun and twisted in a cyclonic fashion. With the wild aggression of a Nexu, the Togorian’s slashes and strikes were sporadic and unpredictable. She ducked, rolled, and whirled around the Mandalorian aiming for his blind spots and weaker joints. Silvery white and deep black met the Sith’s red blade at every turn. It was almost as if he could see where the strikes were going to be before they even landed. His highly trained movements made it look easy. But he had yet to counter any of her attacks. With a final spin on her foot, Katrilla’s blade aimed to sever the Mandalorian’s neck, only to again be met with his own lightsaber keeping her in check.

Aiden’s helmet turned to face Katrila, his visor meeting the cat-like eyes. With the slightest gesture of his non-locked hand, the Plagueian felt an invisible force push her backward. Her feet slid across the floor before her back met the wall behind her. Righting herself, she looked on as Aiden flourished his blades, spinning them in his hands, with his lightsabers coming to a rest in a reverse grip stance.

“I must say, you have been well trained. I am highly impressed with your attacks and movements. Against other opponents, you would be an overwhelming enemy. It’s unfortunate for you that you happened to be matched up against me.”

Aiden whipped his right hand forward, releasing his midnight-black saber as he did so. The blade spun through the air, arcing towards Katrila. The Togorian launched herself through a nearby window, rolling across the ground and back onto her feet as the blade narrowly missed her neck and cut into the metallic wall of the building. She took off running, deciding it best to escape and recenter herself before engaging this opponent again. Aiden called the black saber back into his grasp before exiting the open door and looking around the shanty town battlefield.

“So much for not hiding!” His modulated voice called out. The light panting of his Cythraul became perceivable as the beast walked up to its master. “Kal’ceran, you did good, boy. Now go be safe. I have some hunting to do."

Taking to the streets, Aiden moved through the ‘town’. His thoughts stayed centered on the here and now. In the heights of battle, the rush of his blood lust, it would easy to slip too far into the dark side of the Force, but it was also a valuable tool. The Mandalorian had worked for too long on keeping himself balanced. He wouldn't succumb to baser desires today. He stayed focused on the task at hand.

Not only did he want to win and advance in this tournament, he wanted to put on a good show. It wasn’t often the Mandalorian wasn’t facing a world-ending threat on Selen, or another member of his Clan. Fighting for the sake of fighting was a good way to blow off some steam.

A tingle in the back of his mind alerted him to danger and his arms moved on instinct. A blazing red bolt of plasmic tibanna bounced off his white blade, returning to its sender. A once hidden droid fell over, now only a chunk of scrap metal with a hole burnt into its chassis.

“Gotta be careful out here. Seems our ‘benevolent’ Council is taking our safety as their utmost concern.” Aiden spoke to himself, sarcasm dripping in his words.

Turning around, away from the the downed droid, the Arconan was somewhat surprised to find himself facing an unarmed Katrila. No longer hidden, the Togorian readied herself for round 2. She looked up at his visor and gave the briefest motion with her hand.

“Throw those weapons aside and fight me like a man.”

Tendrils of the Force invaded Aiden’s mind as her words rang in his head. The echo of her voice fought to take hold of him, and the blades of his sabers receded with a hiss. The Mandalorian's fingers loosened as the hilts were nearly thrown to the side before he froze. With a slight jerk of his neck, Aiden shook free from Katrila’s influence. She was certainly strong with her tongue and voice, but the man had faced others superior to her and lived to tell the tale.

“Huh…that was certainly close. I mean, you’re no Tiexsema, false goddess she may have been, but frak, you almost had me there.” Aiden’s eyes narrowed on the Togorian from behind his visor. He began to channel the dark side as he put full concentration on the Plagueian in front of him. “But I’ve had about enough if I do say so myself. I came here for a fight, and that is what I expect. You try to disarm me in such a fashion, and then you wait and ‘hide’ while this arena tries to kill me. To top it all off, you kicked my Cythraul. It’s time for you to think about what you’ve done today and reflect. You wanted me to fight like a ‘man’? Time for you to fight without those powers of yours.”

The darkness grew in strength as Aiden bent the Force to his will. With a hidden smirk, he pushed his suppressing intent onto his adversary.

Her connection could no longer be felt. The Force was his…and for a time at least…not hers.

Katrila’s heart hammered as the familiar currents of the Force slipped away, leaving a still numbness where once flowed life and power. The suppression of her Force sensitivity meant more than a strategic disadvantage; her very essence had been severed. The void in her consciousness, combined with a lump of fear forming in her throat, froze her for a moment.

The synthetic notes of Aiden’s vocoder snapped her back to reality. “How does it feel, the consequence of your own actions? All things return to a Balance.” As he spoke, the Mandalorian reignited his lightsabers and began circling his opponent.

Clenching her teeth, the Sith relied only on her unaugmented senses to survey her surroundings: the towering shipping containers looming over the pair, the debris strewn all over the path before them, the dumpster sitting at the entrance of an alleyway off to the left. Perfect. As Aiden lunged at Katrila with a flurry of fluid slashes, she darted toward the alley that would take her deeper into the shantytown.

Katrila reached for her blaster as she ran, her mind racing to formulate a new plan. The polished pistol felt heavier and more awkward in her hand. Behind her thudded heavy footsteps. Aiden followed closely, an unyielding force of nature. Relentlessly focused on his target, he allowed his blades to sliced through the metal dumpster as he passed it. Cans and wires and rotten food spilling onto the dirt through the new, sizzling opening. “You’ve learned nothing!” he shouted.

Several meters ahead at the end of the alley sat a small barricade of wooden planks and metal sheets. She needed an edge, something to disrupt her enemy’s focus. Her eyes scanned for some ambient threat she could use to divert the other Seeker, even for a moment. The momentum she built while running easily propelled her forward as she leapt over the obstacle. In that brief weightless moment she spotted a glint of metal half-buried in the dirt. A hidden mine. It was a desperate gamble, but she had no other choice. Just as Aiden cleared the barricade, Katrila squeezed the trigger several times at the mine behind her.

The sudden blast shook the ground, sending a cloud of dust and shrapnel in the air. The explosive force propelled Katrila forward, crashing her into a rusty, broken-down landspeeder. Her ears rang with tinnitus and her muscles ached from the impact, but her gambit had paid off. Heightened awareness once again buzzed in the back of her mind. The Force flowed through her veins, a lifeline in the chaos.

Taking a second to ground herself, the Togorian rose to her feet. The mine had sent the blaster flying from her hand, so she yanked the lightsaber hilt from her belt. She thumbed its trigger button to summon the blood-red blade. Unleashing a guttural scream, she charged forward through the cloud of dust, an amplified strength surging through her limbs in preparation for a strike that would end the battle one way or another.

Aiden lost focus… a mistake. His enemy ran, and he blindly gave chase… a mistake. He leaped after her, not paying attention to his surroundings… a mistake. And it was those mistakes that would cost him.

Clearing the barricade, he hadn’t touched ground yet as blaster fire flew toward a glinting metal object in his peripheral vision. The Force screamed the danger as he saw the mine, realizing what was beneath him. A momentary panic took over as the hairs of his arms stood up. Fear overtook his mind as the Balance Adherent instinctively attempted to summon a barrier before him, but the coming explosion was too quick. A bright flash erupted as he turned his eyes away. He felt the heat even through his armor like it was trying to melt him.

The sheer impact of the blast sent him careening into the air, pain wracking his body. His mind went blank from shock, unable to comprehend at first his detrimental situation. He should have died. Luckily for him, his armor absorbed the brunt of the damage, but stabbing pain in his leg and side alerted him to clear injuries he had sustained from the blast. His muscles burned, his bones ached and he heard nothing but a sharp ringing chord in his ears. His vision was blurred, and the Arconan fell from the sky.

The lightsaber hilts he once held had ripped free from his grip. Realizing his predicament, he grasped the fibro-cord grappling hook off of his belt and launched it towards a nearby building. The hook grasped metal, and Aiden’s cybernetic arm jerked hard as the rope went taut. He swung down, slamming into a container wall. He was still several feet in the air, but his deceleration may have saved his life.

Releasing the grappling hook, he dropped hard, landing on his feet momentarily as the searing pain in his leg overtook him. Looking at his injury, he saw blood spewing from an open wound. A piece of shrapnel had lodged into his leg. With shaking hands he pulled the metal free, grunting in agony.

The Mandalorian lay in the dust cloud, catching his breath and attempting to heal his wounds with the Force. The process was rough, slowed by the damage he had sustained from the blast. So focused was he that he forgot about the fight, even for just the moment. His enemy didn't matter, only his life mattered. The goals he had. Desires unfulfilled.

The wound began to close, the skin stitching together at a sedate pace. A faint hiss, barely measurable against the loud ringing in his head, broke his concentration. He knew that sound well. A new pang of fear overroad his sense of security. The fight wasn't over yet, and the Togorian wasn't going to let him heal any further.

Desperately he looked around, dust blurring most of his vision. On the opposite side of the alleyway, he saw familiar glinting silver. Reaching out, he pulled one of his lost hilts to his grasp, and upon activation the silvery white blade burst forth, silent amidst the ever-rising sounds in the air. The ringing in his ear slowed ever so slightly replaced only by the resounding violent hiss of Katrila's blade.

Aiden took a deep breath as he began to stand up. His needs changed as he began centering himself in the Force’s warm embrace. Healing would have to wait, but his soreness and affliction needed to be silenced. Years of training paid off as the Force nullified his pain, at least enough that he could move. A form rushed his way, a guttural scream revealing her position. With his injuries, only his experience could save him now.

The red blade slashed forward, seemingly harder and with more strength behind it than the Arconan had noticed from his enemy before. Aiden held his hilt defensively, the white blade protecting his chest. He turned to his side and parried the crimson lightsaber away. His movements were short, fluid, and precise. He could not afford to exert himself too much, lest he run the gambit of facing an early death. Focused countering was the best option against Katrila’s more explosive and ferocious attacks.

She fought like a wild beast, intent only on destroying her enemy. He responded; a controlled Master who knew what he needed to do to survive, but even he knew that he couldn’t keep it up forever. She was trying to wear him down. The longer this fight went on, the closer he got to defeat. His parries were slowly weakening, but her strength had yet to ebb. Aiden merely looked for his opening, wherever he could find and capitalize on it.

The two Force Users fought through the streets of the shanty town arena, as spectators watched from the coliseum. It was yet to be clear whose bets would be successful and who would walk out with fewer credits. Aiden’s concentration was broken only by a warning in the back of his mind. Behind him, a turret opened from one of the makeshift walls and aimed directly at his back. As Katrila’s constant assault barreled down on him, he acted, rolling to the left instead of defending the blow. Her lightsaber scraped against the side of his beskar, the silver and black metal glowing red from the contact. The turret fired.

The Togorian’s senses hadn’t reacted in time, and she could do nothing but watch as the red blaster fire charged forward, slamming into her armor. The force of impact knocked her off her feet, and Aiden took the opening. He jerked forward, his silver blade raised up, before thrusting down into her shoulder. The searing pain of the lightsaber overwhelmed her. With a rasping scream, Katrila’s saber hilt fell from her grasp. The Sith fought to catch her breath, her vision wavering as tears of agony fell from her cat-like eyes.

Aiden ripped out his saber and hurled it at the turret. The blade spun through the air and upon reaching its target, cleaved the automated weapon into scrap metal before returning to its master’s hand. He disengaged the blade and returned it to his belt.

Kneeling next to his opponent he began to heal her wound, knowing he had limited strength. He just wanted to put a delay on her returning to the Force, for the moment at least. He spoke with calm words and respect. “For what I said before, those disparaging remarks, I apologize. You are a formidable foe, and I am honored to have had this bout with you. Until we next meet, in this life… or the next.”

Her eyes bore into his as she gave an annoyed smirk beneath her cowl. “Go… frack yourself… with your honor.” the Togorian gritted out, no longer able to ward off the overwhelming pain before passing out.

Aiden pushed himself back onto his feet. He stood victorious. Limping off, he had a sole goal in mind before he could stop to heal. He needed to recover his other blade. The Mandalorian only hoped his coming matches would end up being this intense.

He felt alive. He was alive.