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 Forge.

Inspired by the droid factories on Geonosis and the flowing lava rivers of Mustafar, the Forge is a collection of deadly heat and hard-slamming steel. In the center of the arena is a “peak” from which the lava flows downward through rivers and cliff-faces. Radiating outward is a series of tiered rings, each getting lower the further from the center you get.

Along the rivers of lava, various arteries suck out the super heated earth to melt metal. The loud clanking slamming of metal sheets heating and cooling, tempering and forging together ring clearly through the entire arena. Conveyor belts lead the metal sheets away from the arena to be used by ACE in the spaceship yards.

Selika Roh shook her head as she took in the arena that stretched out before her. The midday sun bore down from above, but even its heat was dwarfed by the oppressive heat that radiated up from the flowing lava that issued forth from the artificial peak that dominated the center of the arena floor.

"This is what I get," Selika mused to herself, "for complaining to Idris about the weather for the last match."

As much as the dual heat sources of the sun above and lava below combined with midday tropical humidity were off-putting, neither was what had earned Selika's disdain. As configured, the arena was a close approximation of a miniature Geonosis, droid forges and all. In tropical lowlands, hundreds of miles from any tectonic activity. Somewhere in the arena's heart, there had to be a massive generator expending truly ridiculous amounts of power melting stone into lava. The arena amounted to a fair-sized factory floor producing starship hull components, all within a sports arena without the logistical facilities to manage and support such "production". Each completed plate was also stamped with the logo of ACE Shipyards, which was product placement that she could imagine the Regent drooling over. And all of this after Selika had spent hours in back-and-forth discussions with both Evant and Zxyl on the need for true starship support facilities within the Clan systems, only to be shot down after being told the Brotherhood needed to concentrate its shipbuilding and repair facilities in the interest of efficiency. Selika silently ticked off the credit outlay for each component that she saw, each add-on cost that she could conceive of, and stewed. They could build a factory as an obstacle course for the amusement of the masses, but not on Aliso to support the Clans. Typical.

Putting her anger aside to focus on the task at hand, Selika turned her attention to finding her opponent. Battlemaster Karran Val'teo was unfamiliar to the Plagueian Consul, she had never met the Zabrak or previously had a need to study him. What little she had been able to glean in the limited time before the match had not been all that impressive to the Dread Lord. If one were looking for the definition of "blunt instrument", Val'teo would be as good of one as any. The towering hulk had faced Darkblade in the tournament's first preliminary round, but Selika hadn't been able to learn exactly how that battle finished. 

As Selika strode through the crashing machinery and swirls of lava, she almost missed the small droid watching her from between two giant hydraulic motors driving a massive press. The tiny automaton having moved to follow her movements was all that had given it away amongst the masses of machinery. Realizing it must belong to her adversary, she stopped and faced the diminutive droid.

"BD unit," she called, coaxing the droid. "Go, tell your master I await him at his earliest convenience."

The little droid chittered and beeped a string of binary that came out sounding vaguely accusatory, Selika being unable to make out exactly what it was saying.

"Go, shoo," Selika replied, waving the droid away dismissively.

As the droid departed, Selika moved towards a somewhat open area between the assembled machines bisected diagonally by a meter-wide channel of lava. This seemed as good a place as any to face her adversary, located halfway up the tiered rings surrounding the central peak. Centering herself, Selika closed her eyes as she held her hands just in front of her chest, fingers steepled together as if lost in meditation.

It didn't take long for the brutish Zabrak to make his appearance known to her within the Force, the Sith burning much more brightly than her prior, more mundane opponent had. When he finally moved out into the open, Selika got a better sense of him. Wrapped in a set of armored robes, Val'teo had a single-bladed saber lit and in his hands.

"So good of you to join me, Karran," Selika said, her voice pleasant and sweet.

She could feel the fire raging within him through the Force, gaining strength as Val'teo fanned the flames. Through her mind's eye, she could see it glowing from within him, the glare of it gaining strength until it was all she could see of the Zabrak. Just as the Force energy Val'teo was channeling seemed ready to burst forth, Selika's opponent let forth a primal cry as he leaped forward towards her.

Without any motion from Selika, her lightsaber leaped from her belt and ignited. The weapon flew not into her hand but to meet her adversary's blade directly. Disengaging, the Arconan moved to try to sidestep her blade. As fast as he was, the telekinetically controlled weapon was faster. Selika smiled as she kept the brute at a distance, standing stock still as her violet blade repeatedly met Val'teo's strikes with a well-executed Soresu guard. His saber blows were a whirl of motion, his feet striking out almost as much as the weapon itself. His particular fighting style was ill-suited to combat a lightsaber blade alone and untethered.

A sharp feeling of danger jolted through Selika's mind, instinct taking over to call the Force to her and form a protective barrier. A second later, an industrial crane slammed down from above onto it, the Force-created bubble fracturing under the weight of the blow. Careful to keep what attention she could spare on her weapon, Selika moved to her left to get out from under the piece of industrial equipment. The crane raised back up, moving towards her again as it did so. Following the crane arm back to its base Selika saw the BD unit chittering happily at the crane's console, scomp link connected to the device's controls.

Selika swore under her breath, realizing her cockiness had led her to discount the droid as a possible threat. Gritting her teeth, she channeled Force energy through her as lightning leapt from her fingertips towards the utility droid. The droid was already moving, however, as her bolts wreaked havoc on the crane controls but failed to find their target. 

Selika's frustration caused her focus to slip, and that was all the opening Val'teo needed. Exploiting her divided attention, the large Zabrak swatted her blade aside and drove towards the Plagueian Consul with thundering steps. His saber blow slashed across her back, neatly slicing through her armor's cape as it glanced off the armor plate below. The battlemaster's blade was followed by his shoulder, the full weight of his body slamming into Selika's back and driving her from her feet. She was able to brace her fall so she didn't end up smashing her face into the ground, but she was still left lying flat on her chest. Centering herself to sharpen her focus again, Selika reached out with her mind to call her weapon to her again. The weapon interposed itself between Selika and Val'teo, the blade in a guard position as she pulled herself back to her feet. 

The Zabrak took a step back from his prone opponent, his lightsaber blade dying with a hiss-snap. The expressionless visage of his helmet’s faceplate never broke away from the Consul. His guarded stance remained. His muscles twitched as he waited for any sign of aggression.

“Get up. I cannot kill you like this.”

The Human did her best to hide it, but getting shoulder checked by a one-hundred-and-seventy kilogram, rage-fueled Sith would knock the breath out of most people. Selika pushed herself up, regretting the weight of the armor she had opted for, and looked back at the Zabrak that had knocked her to the ground.

“But take as long as you need.”

Selika’s helmet may have concealed her confused look, but it still cocked slightly as she tried to understand the man’s sentence. The effort passed as quickly as it had come, however. It did not matter if he wanted to show mercy.

He was a fool for hesitating.

The disembodied lightsaber twitched slightly as it adjusted its angle and thrust forward. Karran’s blade sprang back to life as crimson and violet clashed. Sparks fell to the Zabrak’s feet.

Parry.

Counter.

Advance.

Parry.

Retreat.

Selika’s blade swung at impossible angles as it pivoted around the axis of its hilt. The taller Sith once again pushed forward to close the distance between himself and his opponent, only for the blade to pull to the left and strike at his blind side. It was only through the Force that Karran was able to sense the incoming strike at his hamstring and swing his own blade down to block the crippling wound; however, his preoccupation with the floating saber caused him to lose focus on his real target momentarily.

Karran’s muscles tensed as electricity arced over his body and flung him aside. His lightsaber tumbled from his hand to the ground as his considerable bulk came to a stop. The Zabrak’s hearts pittered in arrhythmia for several moments before gradually returning to their normal pattern. The haze that covered his mind faded as he squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. As the fog cleared, a buzzing sensation tingled the base of his skull, urging the Sith to move. Karran rolled, throwing his weight to carry him to a kneeling position as the purple blade pierced the ground where he had been a moment before.

“You’ll find I have no similar compunction, Val’teo.”

Selika sauntered forward as the lightsaber removed itself from the stone and returned to its defensive position between the two Sith. Karran’s right hand slowly reached to the small of his back as his left moved to cover the faceplate of his helmet. His cybernetic hand gripped the surface of the headgear as he slowly removed it, revealing his half-scarred face.

“That is fine. I would expect little else from the Consul of Plagueis.”

The Zabrak leaped forward as he channeled his fury back into himself and drew another lightsaber from behind his back. The twin blades of the saber roared to life as the Arconan vaulted through the air. Selika’s saber, in turn, moved to intercept him, only to be parried away again. Karran’s stance changed as he landed mere meters away from the woman. He rushed to close the distance, and struck out with a determined ferocity. The blade struck, but glanced off of the enhanced metal of her helmet. Selika had moved to withdraw, but the tip of the blade dragged across the faceplate of her helmet. It had failed to cut through, but left its mark nonetheless. The power that drove the strike pushed the Consul back, but she remained on her feet.

“You create distance between yourself and your weapon. You fight from afar, like a coward.” Karran’s words came at an even pace, no anger permeating them. He was simply disappointed.

The smaller of the Sith backpedaled from the Zabrak’s furious assault, blocking his strikes with her gauntlets, knowing the metal would resist the plasma. She concentrated once again and summoned her weapon to her hand to defend herself. Almost immediately, she was able to resist his advance. She parried, redirecting his strength away, but there was always another blow following the previous. Still, she had stopped giving ground. She risked a glance back to see a river of lava flowing a few meters away with a piece of equipment just beyond. The massive machine consisted of two hydraulic presses that periodically slammed together.

I won’t beat him in a battle of attrition.

The pieces of a plan began to form. The woman disengaged and channeled her strength in the Force to leap and clear the flow. With a wave of her hand, she threw her lightsaber at one of the large braided durasteel tubes that ran alongside the machine and severed it. The blade cut the hose, and the high pressure of the hydraulic fluid created a spray that whipped around the immediate area. As the fluid covered the ground, some landed in the lava flow and ignited. This newly created inferno rapidly spread across the battlefield and jumped to the tubing, spawning a wild, uncontrollable, high-pressure flamethrower.

“I was always taught not to play with my food, but sometimes I just can’t help it! Catch me if you can, Karran!”

The Zabrak hissed as gouts of fire erupted. Instinctively, he protected the left side of his body before cursing the woman in his native tongue. However, with no other choice, he collected his lost lightsaber and holstered it quickly before beginning the chase.

Selika smiled as she watched her opponent jog off after her illusory form. Her plan had worked just as intended, the distraction of the blasting flame from the hydraulic fluid having diverted Val'teo's attention just long enough. First triggering her armor's optical camouflage, it had then been a simple matter to create a projection of her armored form in her opponent's mind for the brute to chase off after. He had such a singular focus on the enemy in front of him that it had been easy to offer him up a target to chase. 

Put the piece of meat before the akk dog, Selika thought, and they'll follow it wherever you want them to.

Selika followed her opponent, knowing which way he was going as he continued to follow her illusion. Taking a more direct route to her eventual location, Selika was able to move more slowly to make her armor's stealth system still somewhat effective. There still was that droid out there, after all. The base of the central peak offered Selika what she had wanted, with the machinery well away from the central structure as the flowing, hot stone made its way outward. It was an open enough space that there would be little that her opponent's companion droid could do to impact the outcome, no mechanical weapons for the little thing to turn against her. Satisfied with her position, Selika awaited her foe.

After taking a more circuitous route the Zabrak made his way out from the machinery into the open space, his strides even and barely the hint of any labored breath. Selika stopped her illusion, having her ephemeral simulacrum turn to face him with her weapon drawn.

"Now you turn to fight. And properly this time," Val'teo said, a hint of satisfaction barely evident in his tone.

"Never let it be said that I would shy away from a true fight," Selika projected from her illusion's lips, the words only heard within the Arconan's mind.

A smile tugged at the corner of her opponent's mouth before he once again exploded forward, the twin blades of his saberstaff slashing through the air as he moved. The illusionary Selika moved to block his strike with her saber, but his weapon met nothing but air as it passed through the insubstantial plasma of her mirage. Finding no resistance where he expected to be stopped the juggernaut stumbled forward awkwardly, ending up on one knee as he just was able to maintain his balance. Selika allowed the illusion to melt away as Val'teo turned back to where it had been with his teeth clenched in frustration.

"And now you fight with phantasms, trickery," Val'teo growled, his initial disappointment now colored with annoyance.

Selika stabbed the control on her gauntlet that powered off her camouflage system, revealing herself fifteen meters from where the Zabrak was moving to stand once again.

"How do I know this one is real," her opponent asked matter of factly.

Selika raised her open hand to a position before her, then jerked it to her left several inches. The motion was accompanied by a telekinetic blow that smashed across Val'teo's face. The strike was enough to rattle her opponent's cage momentarily, but not enough to do real damage.

"Satisfied?" Selika inquired with a smile.

Val'teo spat out a bit of blood from his mouth, a result of a split lip from the blow Selika had landed.

"Once again you betray your cowardice," he replied, the sense of superior judgment evident in his words.

"Every one of you warrior-types is the same," Selika replied with a sigh. "You see the Force as a tool. It amplifies your strength, makes you a better weapon. To you, the Force is so… small."

"I bend the Force to my will," Val'teo shot back. "Its strength becomes my strength."

"Such a limited understanding," Selika scoffed. "The power to hit something really, really hard is insignificant next to the power of the Force."

"When I become one with the Force, nothing can stand in my way."

"Then perhaps a lesson is in order," Selika said.

Tendrils of invisible Force energies leaped from Selika to Val'teo, burrowing through her hard-headed opponent's skull. Latching onto the memory of a feeling, Selika projected an illusion into her opponent. The Zabrak let out a short, sharp scream of agony, his right leg collapsing out from under him as he dropped to the ground.

"It's funny," Selika mused as her opponent writhed in pain. "Usually it's much harder to create the realistic sensation of that much pain in a subject. But in this case, it's not just an illusion. It's also a memory. The feeling of a lightsaber driving its way into the back of your leg, as real as the moment it first happened."

She could sense her opponent calling the Force to himself, trying to center his mind and dull the pain away. She smiled again, cruelly.

"Your standard training won't help you. Dulling the sense of pain around an injury doesn't work when it's not the nerves sending the pain signals. The pain isn't in your leg, it's all in here," Selika illustrated, tapping her left temple with her finger. 

Just to be sure, she used some of her attention to dampen his ability to call on the Force, the threads he was grasping for staying just out of reach. 

"You really have endured some true brutality, haven't you Karran?" Selika asked mockingly. "That scar on your back must have really hurt."

Once again her opponent screamed in pain, this time his back arching as it felt like a saber blade was slashing him open once again. His saber slipped from his grip and rolled a few feet away as he writhed.

"I've always wondered what it truly feels like to be on fire," Selika continued. "I've had to make an educated guess when I've made someone feel as though they were burning. But with you? No. It doesn't have to be a guess. You know. You remember."

The Arconan gritted his teeth against the pain as he once again felt the pain of fire charring his flesh across his face, torso, and left leg. He squeezed his eyes shut against it so tightly that a tear ran down his left cheek.

"The Force isn't a parlor trick to make you jump higher, swing harder," Selika concluded. "It is what binds the entire galaxy together. It is pure, unadulterated power of the truest form. Using it like a stim-shot is hardly better than being a mundane flailing away with a blaster."

Selika closed the distance between herself and her opponent, stopping a few steps away as she looked down at him dismissively.

"Thus endeth the lesson."

Relaxing her grip on his mind, Selika allowed the pain to fade. The Zabrak gasped for breath as normal sensation returned, pushing himself back to his feet to face her again.

"Your mind tricks matter little," Val'teo said, his voice hoarse from his screams. "They are, in the end, only an illusion."

"Maybe one more?" Selika asked with amusement.

Selika's mental hold on him closed once more, this time filling his mind with the sensation of his left arm being severed. More prepared this time, the Zabrak tensed against the pain and was able to maintain his focus. His rage filled him, letting him push through her suppression as well as the sensation of pain.

"Not this time, witch," he grunted.

Reaching out Val'teo wrapped his telekinetic grip around his saberstaff and it jerked through the air towards his left hand. As the weapon was reaching his grip, Selika locked a Force grip on his secondary weapon. The hilt leaped from its holster as the lightsaber sprang to life with the telltale snap-hiss, a spinning slash sending the crimson blade slicing through Val'teo's prosthetic arm where it joined his body. The arm, hand still holding the Arconan's saberstaff, dropped to the ground with a dull thud.

"Maybe you are right," Selika said with a shrug. "Maybe pain isn't enough without real injury to go with it."

The hulking Sith’s breaths heaved as he knelt on the rock where he had fallen. His remaining hand clutched at his left arm where the cybernetic had been cleanly severed by his own blade. Razor-sharp blades at the tip of his gauntlet scratched at the exposed metal. His vision narrowed to pinholes as he stared at the obsidian beneath him. Each of his hearts stabbed with pain as they pounded in his chest. He tried with all his might to channel the Force and focus his mind. Yet, the Zabrak’s consciousness fought against him. It clung to the pain as if it were the only thing that mattered in the galaxy until, finally, his hearts began to slow. Karran’s vision widened slightly as his hand pulled away from the wound and into his field of vision. Blades ticked against his covered palm as fingers flexed and extended in sequence.

Selika watched the broken man with an unseen, haughty smile pulling at the corners of her mouth beneath her helmet. She reached out through the Force to brush the mind of the so-called Sith she had humbled. The pain that radiated off of him was intoxicating. The woman drew a shuddering breath as exhilaration filled her body until she sensed a sudden shift.

Labored breathing morphed into a broken chuckle. Breathy bass tones rumbled from his chest. When all of the air had been expelled from Karran’s chest, he inhaled sharply, hissing through gritted teeth. His eyes squeezed shut as another wave of pain washed over him. The Juggernaut grunted as he fought to gain control of his body. He ordered his legs to move and they did. It was slow. His toes dragged against the ground as he rose.

Selika reveled in his maddened laughter. Another proud warrior had been brought low. His agony was nearly divine as she basked in it. Just a few more moments, a few more seconds of savoring the feeling, and she would kill him.

“The funny thing about pain,” Karran interrupted her thoughts as his words strained, “is that it only truly has power over you when you cannot imagine anything worse.”

The Dread Lord’s face contorted into a sneer. She gestured with her hand subtly and the stolen blade leveled itself toward the Zabrak’s chest. It was time to put this rabid mongrel down.

“You are as stupid as you are prideful, dog! Pain is power. The ability to inflict it gives me far more strength than your ability to endure.”

Karran thought of reaching for the saberstaff that lay clutched in his fallen cybernetic hand to his left. He would need a weapon to break through his opponent’s defenses after all. He turned his head slightly so that his good eye could see it before returning his glaring gaze to the woman. His hand clenched and relaxed. His feet shuffled, then steadied and tensed.

Selika returned his stare and focused on the one bloodshot, yellowing eye. She reached out again through the Force to brush the man’s mind and found a single thought.

The lightsaber!

The disembodied blade adjusted as it hovered in the air as if seeking to aim ahead of where the Arconan might bolt to. The air hung still between them, hot and heavy.

Karran moved and the tension in his legs released like coiled springs. As he did, the Zabrak’s saber thrust forward like a dart to intercept him as he lunged for the saberstaff on the ground. However it found only solid rock as it pierced the obsidian surface. Karran charged toward the woman, unarmed. Fifteen meters closed to ten, then five, then he was on her.

Selika drew her own saber and ignited it. She struck out at the charging man with a downward diagonal slash, only to have her saber rebound from the shimmering, translucent shield of Force that Karran had summoned. In the moment before Karran reacted, she could see the look in his eye– was filled with the hateful gaze of a man with nothing left to lose. All pretense had been dropped.

As Selika attempted to recover from the deflected blow, Karran’s hand snatched forward to grip her wrist. He turned his back to her, dropping to one knee, and wrenched her arm down on his shoulder with as much strength as he could summon. The woman’s elbow bent at an awkward angle as the joint popped and snapped. The Elder cried out in pain as her hand struggled to keep a grip on her saber.

The taller Sith returned to his full height and released the Human’s wrist. She stumbled back, staggered by the pain and abruptness of the movement. Karran spun to face her, striking out with a powerful kick to the side of her knee. Still reeling from the assault, Selika’s leg buckled. Finally, the Arconan delivered a front kick to the chestplate of her armor, without which, ribs would have broken, but the woman still sprawled backwards on the ground.

Karran’s face showed no joy nor pleasure, but neither did he express pain or grief as he walked toward the supine woman. He planted a boot on her wrist, just below where the arm bent unnaturally. He reached down with a clawed gauntlet and removed Selika’s helmet. At last, he could look his opponent in the eye.

He knelt down, not relieving any of the weight on the woman’s broken arm. Each movement of his boot sent another wave of pain washing over her face. He reached back with an open hand and summoned his lightsaber from where it had buried its blade in the rock. The smooth, leather-wrapped bone hilt returned to its rightful owner to be held at Selika’s throat, as she strained to choke out breaths.

“Look at me!” Karran’s voice came in a low, guttural hiss. Selika did not obey, but the Zabrak continued to speak, “The Force is a powerful weapon, but mastery over it is nothing without mastery over yourself. Let this be my lesson to you.”

He stood, keeping the tip of the crimson blade inches from Selika’s face. He took a steadying breath before making two simple gestures. The plasma cut a superficial wound along her right cheekbone before redirecting toward the woman’s right hand.

The Human involuntarily let out another cry of pain before looking in a panic at her hand that now limply held a useless lightsaber.

“You are beaten.”

The pressure released from her wrist as Karran turned to walk away from her toward the arena’s exit. He stopped only for a moment to collect his abandoned saberstaff.