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.

Too loud.

Those were the only words Titius could think as the gate opened into the infernal expanse of The Forge. A volcanic wasteland was already a deafening roar but the addition of gnashing machinery around its circumfrence was causing his auditory implants to gate into horrific feedback. Kneeling from the deluge, Titius slashed through control menus on his wrist to turn down the noise. The environment tapered off to a dull hiss as the attenuation program took hold. Noise back to acceptable limits, he rose to face the arena and stepped in.

At least I can turn down the volume. I doubt my good Proconsul can do the same

A sly grin spread across Titius' face at the thought only to melt off from the wave of heat that assaulted him. Clearly the entry lift had been environmentally conditioned. Titius felt his mouth go dry from the desiccated air coming through his respirator. Heaving a deep inhale, he plodded forwards. The terrain was treacherous, taking every ounce of control for Titius to stay upright while heaving his pack. The loose basalt from the lava flows slopping over their banks had a tendency to create fragile platers that slid underfoot without warning. Rocking erratically with each step, he made his way towards the foothills of the volcano.

Several layers above, TuQ'uan stood idly as he looked at Titius scrabbling through the obsidian promenade. The Kel Dor was almost amused at the struggles downslope. Once again, TuQ'uan Varick di Plagia was smarter than his opponent. The comforting weight of his jetpack saw to that. Though not the most avid of operators, TuQ knew enough to keep his balance in flight. Saved him walking like he had imbibed to many mature beverages. He saw his opponent dive behind a rock followed by the glint of a weapon scope sweeping out.

"Shall we get this over with?" TuQ tutted. Drawing his pistol, he assumed a sidelong dueling stance and sent bolts downrange.

Titius dropped behind the rock as chips flew, trying to minimize his exposure. He knew roughly where the shots had originated from but his scope had drowned in a mottled field of red and orange when he leveled it. Infrared sensors in a lava field was possibly the worst choice for optics but he would have to make do. Poking his head around the other side of his cover, Titius squinted to better visualize the terrain. A blaster shot chipped the stone to a fine dust directly onto his helmet lens, completely blinding him.

"Oh, kriff!" Titius pulled back to clear the dust. The shots had come from the same place but without his scope, the mercenary needed to be closer.

Ok, new plan

Pulling out his rifle, Titius checked the payload in its launchers. As always, Horrific Deluge was ready for duty. Poking the barrel out the side of cover, he skipped a line of grenades towards a smaller jut of stone further ahead. Where each canister landed, a green cloud appeared to mask the selected path. "Subtlety is out, I suppose."

Not waiting for the last grenade to land, Titius launched out towards his goal.

TuQ growled and unloaded a volley of plasma into the plumes of green smoke. He knew where the Plagueian Quaestor was headed–to get closer to him–and he knew the path he would take–following the trail of smoke canisters. What he couldn’t tell was where exactly the blasted man was through all the smoke. And so, TuQ opted to fire as many bolts of plasma as his trigger finger could squeeze out.

As the bolts disappeared into the clouds, the Kel Dor realized he had two options, move towards his opponent and try and catch him by surprise as he emerged from the clouds of noxious gas or find cover, either way he couldn’t remain where he was. Making a snap decision, the Proconsul opted to keep the battle at range for now and took off higher up the volcanic cliffs. If he had learnt anything from historic battles, it was to always take the high ground. TuQ pushed every bit of strength he could into running up a path on the side of the volcanic structure; a wall of stone blocked him from going straight up. Chips burst from the obsidian wall of the cliff at his side as Titius fired repeatedly, barely missing him every time. In response, TuQ blindly opened fire in the general direction of the human, laying down his own cover fire.

Frak, frak, frak, he cursed to himself as dust sprinkled down, dirtying the brim of his quite fashionable hat. The path ahead narrowed, pushing him closer to the edge of the path and exposing himself to Titius’ incessant rain of fire. One step too slow sent a searing pain through the di Plagia’s leg as one of Titius’ bolts burned into his calf, causing him to stumble. TuQ struggled between the pain growing in his leg and the symphony of industrial sounds that rang so loud in TuQ’s ears that he couldn’t even hear himself think. If only he could just turn it all off.

And with that, an idea began to form.

TuQ fumbled with the grenades strapped to his belt, Titius wasn’t the only one with a proclivity to explosives. Finding the one he was looking for, TuQ pushed the activator on the small round grenade, wound up, and threw it towards the Quaestor with all his might. Trained to hit a moving target, Titius swung Horrific Deluge towards the falling object, squeezed the trigger and dove for cover. The single bolt struck true, stopping the grenade mid flight and a wave of relief washed over the man when no explosion rocked the area, that mixed with the sudden silence of the arena gave him a moment to pause. The raucous cacophony of sound had finally gone out, no more having to listen to the roar of molten rock, the constant pounding of metal no longer bashing away inside his head making it hard to think. Nothing. And then it struck him. Looking down at his wrist mounted datapad Titius saw the screen glitching out, attempting to reboot itself. That wasn’t an explosive grenade, it was an EMP!

The silence was deafening as Titius refocused. A bout of tinnitus sprang up in the soundless void, the dull hum only slightly distracting as the mercenary examined the path forward. He was sure one of his shot had contacted TuQ but lost visual not a second later.

Annoying The emotion tickled at Titius's mind as he continued to assess. Noting the cliff, Titius surmised his quarry would not have scaled it without drawing attention. Holstering Deluge Titius pulled forth his grapple effortlessly sending the line out in a silvery arc. The barb lodged firmly ahead, sinking deeper as Titius reamed on the cable. Satisfied with its security, the mercenary doffed his pack and emptied its contents over the rock. Dentonite charges rolled downhill while Titius reseated his pack. Made for safely transporting demolition charges, the hard case of the pack would suit the next stage of the plan. Rather, that is the theory at least.

TuQ continued to edge slowly along the cliff base, trying to ignore the screaming pain in his leg. A series of deafening explosions lit up the rock behind as magma flung skyward, drawing his attention away from the pain. Through the chaos, TuQ saw an object shoot out in a line of heavy sparks directly towards him. A moment of confusion struck as he tried to rationalize why the mountain was sparking in a jagged line. The sparks dissipated as the object took air and TuQ locked eyes with...

"Titius?!" TuQ was momentarily agog at the sheer audacity of the move. Swiftly composing himself, pistol came up for a spray of shots. One impacted in a shoulder, sending the airborne Titius into a tailspin. The human landed crudely, performing his best scorpion move as he landed. TuQ gingerly peered at the limp carcass where it lay. "Was that it? I will admit, I am impressed by the move but not your intelligence."

A long groan filtered from the discombobulated pile of armour, indicating in the negative. Titius brought his head up to reveal a smashed faceplate dripping rivulets of blood. "No, but I brought you a present, TuQ." came the grating response, words slurred by painkillers already permeating the mercenary's body. A tattered arm swung wide to fling a misshapen cylinder wide of TuQ. The Elder made to dive away but felt himself drawn towards by some invisible force. Stumbling off balance, TuQ was yanked closer to the now whirring object. Attempting to dig his heels in resistance and detonate the object resulted in nauseating levels of pain to flare from the injured calf. A cackle assaulted TuQ's ears as he was finally pulled over onto the object.

Titius could feel the pull of the gravity well from where he fell as a gentle tug countered by the barbs embedded in his suit from his landing. Looking forward through the blood and flickering visor, he could see shards of obsidian being drawn in towards the downed Elder, each one bearing a vibroblade sharp edge. A death by a thousand cuts. As if sensing the impending doom, TuQ lit his jetpack hurriedly at maximum thrust. His world began to shake as the gravity well and jetpack fought each other to stand still. Just as the first shards began to carve into his paltry armour, the jetpack won out. The resulting acceleration sent TuQ rocketing along the cliff base, bouncing his hat and the head within wildly along the bumpy surface completely out of control.

TuQ grunted as he bounced and slid across the ground like a stone being skipped across the placid surface of lake Paonga. Except instead of a flat, smooth stone bouncing across the water’s surface, it was TuQ’s face being repeatedly bashed against the hot, jagged stone pathway. He liked his jetpack, it really was a sound investment. It offered maneuverability, quick access to the high ground and, when the need arose, a quick means of escape. What he didn’t like, however, was constantly using it in a tug of war that left him careening out of control. It was only the second time, but he was truly beginning to dislike the pattern that was forming.

As the Kel Dor’s body finally slid to a stop he took a moment while laying face down to gather himself. The pain in his leg was growing almost to the point of distracting him from the burning sensations across his body from the dozens of cuts left behind by the impromptu stone shrapnel. He slowly rose, struggling to put much weight on his leg, and turned to see Titius doing the same.

“I’m your boss,” he sighed. “You’re supposed to let me win.” TuQ unhooked the jetpack and felt relief at the sudden reduction of weight on his back.

“That's not the Plagueian way, sir.” A sound escaped Titius' lips that was a cross between a laugh and a cough. He spat to the side, leaving a glob of blood on the ground.

“Fine then.” TuQ raised his blaster aimed right for his opponent's throat and squeezed the trigger once more. Click. Nothing. Click, click, click. He threw the DL-44 to the side and drew his Sith Sword. The wounded di Plagia hobbled towards the Quaestor who raised his blaster in response.

Titius opened fire, trying to pick his shots carefully. TuQ, with both hands tightly gripping the hilt of the sword, batted away the shots one at a time with a look of grim determination set in his face. As the distance between the combatants shrank, Titius realized that his blaster was quickly becoming useless at this range. Tossing Horrific Deluge aside, he unsheathed Viper Fang and readied himself with the dagger. Things were about to get close and personal.

What normally would have been an impressive display of prowess as the two opponents clashed was now a slow, dull clash of blades. Their reflexes were dulled by the brutal beating both bodies had borne. Fury filled the frustrated fighters as they pushed through the growing exhaustion. Titius stepped aside to avoid a heavy overhand swing and countered with a jab from his dagger that came closer to embedding itself within him than the Proconsul was particularly comfortable with.

“Just. Give. Up,” TuQ growled.

The two danced back and forth like a pair of inebriated guests overstaying their welcome at a wedding. Parry, dodge, swing, parry, dodge, swing. The pattern repeated over and over again as their movements slowed. The oppressive heat and unrelenting cacophony of sounds in the arena pressed against the two as they battled. TuQ’s anger boiled over and in a desperate maneuver he swung his head forward with as much strength as he could muster and smashed his forehead against Titius’. The flash of pain and shock from the attack sent the Quaestor tumbling backwards.

“It’s over Titius, I win.” TuQ reversed his grip on the Sith Sword as he stood over the prone man, the blade lifted high, ready to stab straight through his opponent and pin him to the ground. A sneer appeared on Titius’ bloodied face as TuQ initiated his killing blow.

The di Plagia’s vision began to blur as he drove the blade down, his legs gave out as his body fell forward carried by the momentum of the attack. His thoughts were clouded and he struggled to focus as he landed on his side, confusion filled his mind. What just happened?

TuQ’s gaze lowered to his abdomen where he saw a gash too long and too clean to have been from Titius’ shrapnel trap.

*So, who wins?” the Kel Dor thought to himself. Consciousness fled as he lay crumpled next to Titius, impaled through the shoulder, unconscious himself.