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.

Hevan scanned the empty loading dock, advancing carefully with his rifle outstretched. He stuck to the edges, crouched down and constantly looking around the area. Ash and embers seemed suspended in the air, the heat making it hard to breathe, the ground too hot to stand on for a limited time. As soon as possible, he wanted to get off this area and back into the ash choked rocks.

A hiss from above sent Hevan down on the ground, hidden in behind a tipped over crate. A silhouette passed above one of the skylights, as if a Corellian Banshee was stalking its prey. Hevan was well experienced in this feeling, a far too common situation these days. The glass suddenly shattered, littering the ground with dozens of sharp glass shards.

Through dropped a man, a man clad in Mandalorian plate. "Perfect. Just perfect." Hevan murmured to himself as he watched the man look around. The armour clad soldier did not bear himself with the stance befitting a soldier, nor the stance of those touched by the force. However, despite the obvious presence of the Beskar armour, he could tell from here, Hevan felt little fear. After all, all those who wore the Plate of Mandalore were always arrogant to some degree. Beskar heightened this to a feigned sense of invulnerability. Yes, Hevan's rifle and pistol would be about as useful as a blind Tauntan would be right now, but there were... other ways to deal with them. For all their armour, they still had one weakness. The joints.

The man had turned away now, inspecting the office on the other side of the room. Taking his opportunity, Hevan crouched and silently made his way to the glass shards. Picking a sizeable one up, he closed on his target. The man began to turn, but Hevan saw the opportune moment and attacked, driving the makeshift blade into the mans thigh before he had time to turn fully. Warm blood flowed over Hevan's hands as the man screamed, Hevan twisting the shard into his leg.

A fist connected with Hevan's face, knocking him to the ground. Soon after, a metal boot connected with Hevan's ribcage, then another into his stomach. Coughing out blood, Hevan was able to roll out of the way from another kick, lashing out with his legs and kicking the man back. He staggered, obviously wounded from the stab, but soon drew his own knife.

Lunging at Hevan, the man swung blindly with rage, the blade nearly slashing Hevan several times before he grabbed the man's hand. There, the two struggled, the blade being the focus of both fighters. Hevan felt he was winning the struggle, the blade being pressed closer and closer to his targets neck, but a metal fist slammed once again into his face. Hevan staggered back, now on the defensive, turned to run.

"You're not getting away that easily, you little osik!" Haro reached out with the Force, grabbing his attacker. He called upon his anger, using it to fuel his Force Lightning. Brilliant blue tendrils of electricity stretched from his hand to his opponent. Now it was Hevan's turn to scream.

After a few seconds of electrocution, the lightning stopped and Haro set his opponent down. Hevan started to run, and Haro motivated him to go faster with a touch of flame to his behind. Hevan disappeared behind a rock and Haro followed. Slowly catching up to his opponent, Haro pulled ahead and said, "Nice day for a run, isn't it?" Hevan recoiled in shock and stumbled, falling to the ground. Haro kept running, shouting over his shoulder, "How about you try the hunting for once!" Once he was out of sight of the man, Haro stumbled, then fell. Running with a hurt leg had been agonizing, but he had used the Force to keep moving. He focused on healing his wound, until he felt good enough to continue. Just then, Hevan tentatively looked around the corner and received a blaster bolt to the back of the head.

"I'm over here, old man!" As Haro had expected, the jibe caught Hevan's attention, and Hevan turned to see Haro sitting on the ground. Haro holstered his blaster and drew his lightsaber. "Let's see you fight one of these!" Haro got to his feet and ignited the saber, settling into the ready stance of a Djem So user with the words, "Come at me."

'By the 7 spires, this man is a lunatic.' Pulling his now damaged helmet off, Hevan now knew how Haro had survived so long. It was more akin to fighting a 12 armed Gundark high on deathsticks than anything else. Only thing for it now was to meet the challenge. His hands were shaking, but he had been through far worse. Hevan grabbed a metal spike from the debris that littered the floor and held it steady, slowly circling his opponent, looking for weaknesses. But his eyes did not just stay on Haro, but rather above and below him.

'There.' Hevan spotted a large grate in the ground, a vent of sorts, wispy tendrils of steam rising from it. If he could trap him there, and he didn't yield, he would be cooked alive. Not a way Hevan had any intention in using, but it was a means to an end.

Perfect. He had his plan.

Hevan dropped the spike, raising his rifle while calling the Mandalorian to attack.

"Come, show me what passes for fury among your kind."

Haro took the bait, as could be expected of one who wore the armour of Mandalore, running at Hevan with little focus on his surroundings. Even for him, this was folly, but Hevan knew the man was too focused on bloodlust to see the true objective.

Hevan's rifle dropped, shooting the grate as soon as Haro was about to step on it. The resulting fall was comedic and made Hevan audibly chuckle. Hevan rushed to get into position and close the grate, but a whine and roar soon filled his ears.

'Right. Fraking jetpacks. Why do they always have jetpacks?' The man shot out from the vent like a shuttle entered hyperspace, hardly visible amongst the steam and fire. Now, Hevan decided to pull a age old tactic out of the book.

He turned tail, running as fast as he could while the man was still recovering from the fall. Hevan decided to simply try and get to a safe hiding spot, after all, he didn't have the resources to deal with a lightsaber wielding Mandalorian with Beskar armour. If he did, he would be stupider than a lobotomised Gammorian. Now, if he had a missile launcher it would be a different story, but alas he had not one to spare.

Hevan jumped underneath a bridge across a long drop to lava, hiding in the shadows. Here, he would to some extent be safe.

"Where did you go?" Haro muttered to himself. Landing, he closed his eyes and tried to find his opponent through the Force. He sensed a living creature, about a tenth of a klick away. "Well, that narrows it down." He deactivated his saber and clipped it to his belt, drawing his blaster. He started to search, scouring the landscape for any sign of life.

After a few minutes, Haro again tried to Sense his opponent. This time, he didn't get a distance, but he could feel that his quarry was near. He continued to search and came to a bridge, crossing it without thinking. Suddenly, the Force warned him of danger, and he jumped to the side, just dodging a blaster bolt that had been aimed at his head. He spun around and found his opponent aiming a rifle at his head.

"So that's how it's going to be, eh?" Haro pointed his pistol at Hevan's uncovered head, and fired a pair of shots. Hevan managed to dodge, and Haro ran towards his hiding spot, holstering his blaster and grabbing his lightsaber. He ran below the bridge and fell to the ground, dodging a kick from Hevan. The fall, however, wasn't the best option, as Haro lost his grip of his lightsaber and it began to fall towards the lava below. Haro reached out with the Force, trying to retrieve the saber, but a kick from his opponent broke his concentration. Haro rolled towards Hevan, crashing into his legs and tripping him. Haro got to his feet and started to attack his quarry. He kicked Hevan's arm, making him lose his grip on the pistol he had been drawing from a hidden holster on his chest. Haro grabbed the blaster and threw it into the lava.

"Frack! Frack, frack, frack, frack, frack!" Hevan cursed as he tried to defend against the brunt of Haro's blows.

"Frack, frack, frack," Haro started mocking him. "You say that so much, I think that might be your favorite word. Well, here's mine: Credits. Credits, credits, credits. I only get paid for winning, and I can't afford to lose again." Haro threw in a kick to the groin and Hevan howled in pain, letting his guard slip for a single moment, enough for Haro to slip his fist in between Hevan's arms and activate his flamethrower. Fire blasted Hevan's face as Hevan screamed in agony. After a full ten seconds, Haro cut off the power, and the flames died out. Hevan's face was melted and burned, a horrific sight for anyone but those who were trained not to care. "Well?" Haro asked. "Do you relent?"

Hevan kept screaming, and Haro sighed and used the Force to heal him. When all was quiet, Haro asked again, punctuating each word, "Do. You. Relent."

Hevan replied, in a croaking voice, "Never."

Haro sighed again, saying "Either you surrender, or you die in your jaro. Which will it be?"

Hevan coughed a glob of blood onto the ground, and the blood immediately started to sizzle. "Better to die in glory than to live in shame."

"There is no fault in admitting you are weak. All that does is give you a chance to become stronger. You can't live to die in glory if you die now in shame."

Hevan screamed, frothing at what was left of his mouth, "Glory!"

"Very well then." Haro drew his blaster and fired once, twice, into Hevan's face, and Hevan finally lay still. Haro had won.