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.

“Are you trying to kill me?!” The accusation was hurled with both venom and an accompanying bedpan. No doubt the venom bit into the accused, but the bedpan bounced off the door frame of the medical bay and rolled into the adjacent locker room. As the medical device slowed before wobbling to a stop in the middle of the floor, its metallic ring was enough to kill all conversation in the locker room before further shouting came from the medical bay. “Watch your damn needlework, you lunatic!”

Most didn’t react; there was no breath holding for an apology or plea to defend someone clearing going through “a difficult time”. This wasn’t an Odanite locker room. In fact, it wasn’t specifically assigned to any clan but, as the gladiatorial games continued from days into weeks, it had become the de facto Arcona locker room as those Arconans in the games gathered here for support, refreshment, and the occasional celebration of their clanmates.

“Are you daft?! No, I won’t use that - what’s wrong with bacta?!” The protest from the medical bay reminded all that not every match had been successful. Few were in the mood to be reminded of this, especially those that had a loss recorded. One in particular stood and had a mind to take out their foul mood right here and now.

A dull tone rang across the locker room after Lontra Boglach swung his right foot into the resting bedpan, causing it to spring back towards the doorway of the medical bay and ping inside. A chorus of clanging metal and breaking glass answered before a wolflike face appeared in the doorway bearing a snarl. The Shistavanen bore red, curly fur that was held up in two buns, which upon spotting this, Lontra’s mood quickly changed and he couldn’t contain any of his laughter.

“Well, aren’t you the apex predator…” Hubris could be sensed in the human’s tone as he shook his head to clear away his chuckle. A howl came from the Shistavanen known as Archian as he started to protest the destruction of his lap equipment, but it was quickly cut short by a dismissive wave of Lontra’s hand. “Sorry, I don’t speak hound, buddy. Next time just use bacta and keep your experiments to yourself - we’ve all been mauled enough.”

A low growl came from the Shistavanen, the lips on his snot curled and twitched, yet the creature did not react to the man’s insults and instead turned back to clean up the broken glass. Rather than defusing the situation, the lack of reaction boiled the Arcanist’s blood. There was a primal urge from the man to break into violence, his pride demanded that if he couldn’t win on the arena flood he had to do something to show Arcona that he was no longer the recent transferee from Odan-Urr.

As soon as the Bryar pistol was pulled from its holster, the locker room erupted into chaos. Several people called to Archian to watch out, others protested Lontra’s escalation and grabbed the man’s arm to hold it pointed at the ground, but there were a few who had been Archian medical experiments that wanted to see the Shistavanen endure some pain himself so they complained about the interference.

“That’s enough!” A voice boomed through the room with a firmness that froze everyone in place. As heads turned to the source, they found a lean-built man with long, flowing gray hair who stood by the entrance to the locker room. As the room settled, Marick continued. “I get it, you’re all itching to get out there and make a name for yourselves but save that drive for the field. We don’t need any friendly fire before the next round.”

“Friendly fire?” Lontra laughed, “If you haven’t noticed, we are fighting on our own out there.”

“Not anymore.” Marick’s response was sharp as he marched through the group and knocked on the doorway to the medbay. “Archian, get out here - you’re going topside. Lontra, you’re going with him.”

“The second round has us fighting in pairs?” Archian barked with annoyance, though Lontra wasn’t sure if this was just the way Shistavanens spoke basic.

“Looks like it, they have several clans sending pairs up in the next round.” Marick pointed their attention to the sole display hanging in a ceiling corner. Tension quickly returned to the room as Archian and Lontra exchanged annoyed looks at their names being together. A few moments later, a dull tone filled the room announcing that the lift was now in service.

As the two Arconans made their way across the locker room to the only exit available to them, Lontra whistled at a sentry droid that remained standing in a corner. Having the droid’s attention, he waved at the droid to follow along and keyed the turbolift open. Lontra, with his sentry droid in tow, stepped onto the platform behind Archian and leaned toward the Shistavanen with a whisper. “Whatever awaits us up there, can’t hurt to have a third set of hands.”

The gears of the lift rattled and lugged, showing signs of their age. While modern technologies existed in the locker and medical rooms, the trio were slowly being lifted into an arena with foundations that were over a millenia old, built in the foundations left from long-dead civilization. The Arx Colosseum had seen multiple transformations over the years since the Council had occupied it, yet, while the shell and foundations remained in their neglected forms recent renovations had introduced new features. The most important of which was the changing design of the arena floor itself.

With different configurations for each round, the crowds would never be bored by the callous death happening below them. Unfortunately, like the future wars they prepared for, this feature also ensured each combatant faced confusion and chaos at the start of every battle. It was clear that in the modern Brotherhood, only those made for war would be recognized for their value.

When the lift finally lugged into it’s final position, Archian, Lontra, and the Sentry droid emerged from the south side of the field and were immediately hit with a wall of sweltering heat. As they advanced onto the platform in front of them, they could clearly make out three other starting platforms at each compass direction that all circled a ringed pyramid that was built up in the arena’s centre.

Yet, no other combatants could be seen on these starting areas.

Before Lontra could comment on his observation, an explosion roared from the peak of the pyramid. Lontra felt his chest tighten in fear as he watched lava spray out and cascade down the rings of the pyramid. Surrounding this appeared to be many manufacturing lines floating on repulsors just about the magma as if working away to harvest resources for another part of the Brotherhood’s empire.

The fear in Lontra’s chest gave way to a sinking feeling in his stomach as a voice boomed over the arena’s stereo.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the second round of this year’s games!” The Voice was quickly cut off by a roar of the crowds gathered high above and along the arena’s walls. As the roar turned into chanting, Lontra attempted to casually distance himself from the Shistavanen and made some last second adjustments on his belt by locking his Bryar in its holster and reaching for his pair of lightsabers. “Let the first battle of the Forge, begin!”

The heat was strong, the new veins of lava which came out from the peak of the Forge multiplied the feeling. The cheers from above made reverberated through the arena.

“Another day, another trick.” Archian commented and shrugged his shoulders like it wasn't anything new, that Arcona made him and Lontra believe that they would fight not against but alongside. The Human chuckled at the comment, adjusting explosives at his belt and making sure that his Legion's Eyes are correctly adjusted.

The red Shistavanen felt that his fur started to stick into clumps from the sweat under his Inquisitor armor, forcing him take deeper breaths.

The sound of the detached belts and clips were followed with the upper body part of the armor thrown to the floor, uncovering the two bold scars upon the Wolf-man's chest; one at the left shoulder, another one closer to the center of his chest. Another pair were located at both of his wrists.

Archian took a deep breath to release the knots of tension that had subconsciously built up without him noticing.

“Striptease? You shouldn't have to.” Lontra chuckled again, looking at him with green eyes full of sparkles, walking to the left of the platform and checking the altitude that they were at. Red didn't react at the comment, but stripped back all of his items together with material of his hood and gloves.

The white blast of light blinded the Shistavanen as he was braiding his two buns together. Lontra used the opportunity and amplified his run speed to reach Archian quicker after blinding him, and caged his arms into Stuncuffs.

“You're too slow, and I do not fancy a battle surrounded by hot lava. The battle is over.” He justified his dirty move with nice words.

The spectators at the seats above them were divided between booing and cheering at the male Human, and his action. Archian just shrugged his shoulders, making all the hanging equipment clatter with a metallic sound.

“Before I surrender could you do me a favor?” The Shistavanen asked, looking at the human with his citrine eyes.

“If that involves unzipping you, and holding your pee wee then I will refuse.” Force Disciple replied ironically with a smile beaming on his face, after hearing the word “surrender” used by his opponent.

“No. That can wait. My bladder is stronger than you think.” Archian attempted to repond with wit against the quip showing his sharp teeth with a cracked smile. “If you can reach into my pocket please, and take out the dice. I want to decide how to surrender to random fate.”

Lontra couldn't refuse. He loved gambling, so favor like this was to his taste. He reached to the side pocket of the unmoving calm Shistavanen, holding his other hand at the handle of his Bryar as precaution.

The Wolf-man didn't react, he remained statuesque in obedience for the moment. His opposition lifted his hand, having a vision of his opponent playing a game with blue hued female Shistavanen in front of him. He threw the dice at the steel floor of the platform, revealing mostly odd numbers. Archian deepened his cracked smile as he took note of the results.

“Thank you. I will see you downstairs then.” Archian chuckled, and before Human Force Disciple could understand the meaning of his words, ran straight at the Imperial Sentry Droid, pushing it with his body over the edge of the platform, disappearing from view.

The whole arena exploded with cheers and excitement.

Above, at the first row of the seats the two black eyes were watching how his owner fell down.

Porg, wearing the Mandalorian helmet, rocket backpack and with the wide scar at his belly was stealing the popcorn from the amused child, who was enjoying avian's company.

Creature was waiting for a signal from his companion.

For a moment, the Arcanist stood still in the chorus of the crowd’s laughter as he pondered what he had just witnessed. No doubt he looked clueless as his mouth hung open at what he just watched. Now alone on the entrance platform, the waves of heat warned of the terrible fate below.

As the man left his daze, he felt a pull on his torso and an urge to step with the motion. Following its command, the Arcanist moved just before a glass bottle smashed into the place he had been standing. Looking up to find his aggressor, Lontra spotted several reddened faces at the front of the crowd that spat insults his way.

“Get down there and stab the bastard!” Lontra was able to make out from the least inebriated voice.

No longer was there a unified voice from galleries above, instead the crowd was now divided into many factions. Some claiming the Arcanist had already won or at least the Shistavanen had surrendered so they wanted to cash in their bets, others were demanding the fight continue and a bloody resolution was needed. Given the assault on his droid, Lontra was happy to deliver both outcomes.

His frustration came as a curse through gritted teeth as the man charged to the edge of the platform. To his surprise, neither the wolfman or the droid were melting into the lava pooling below. Instead, the pair dangled off different sections of a conveyor belt that led to the manufacturing chaos at the arena’s centre. Lontra made a nervous gulp before stepping off the platform and falling to the manufacturing line below.

The weight of the Arcanist hitting the conveyor belt was enough to make the machine sway despite it’s many repulsors keeping the manufacturing line from collapsing into the melted metals below. Archian was able to tuck an elbow over a rail and weather the swaying motion, yet it was the Arcanist’s own droid that was bucked from the machine. Once more cheers rained down from the crowd as they watched the sentry droid plunge into the bubbling magma.

“When this is over, you owe me a droid.” Lontra was calm as he stomped up the conveyor belt to stand over the flailing medic. Both lightsabers were firmly in the Arcanist’s hands and cast orange and blue hues over the man’s face as he looked down at Archian struggling to maintain his hold on the edge. When Lontra noticed the wolfman was still cuffed, he also caught a view of the Shistavanen’s right forearm and the flame projector strapped on it that was pointed in his direction.

The heat of the fiery burst felt too close for comfort as Lontra leaned back away from the cone of flames and fell to his back on the conveyer. Rolling with the moment, Lontra pulled his feet over his head and continued into a somersault backwards after from the danger, careful to deactivate his lightsabers while bringing his hands down to push himself up. As Lontra regained his feet, so too did Archian find his and the pair squared off quickly with several jabs and kicks while shuffling along the conveyor belt trying to find an advantage.

From there, the pair appeared to dance through a well choreographed exchange as they moved deeper bit by bit into the centre of the arean along the manufacturing line. As Archian batted away attacks from the Arcanist, the parries would open Lontra up to a riposte. Yet, when the Shistavanen acted, Lontra would counter by wildly changing directions to deflect these until he had once again regained the advantage to strike. As the pair moved back and forth over conveyor, which continued to sway from the weight and movement upon it, the repulsors began to strain from the stress.

A hush fell over the crowd as the side of the convoyer that was closest to the wall and entrance, suddenly collapsed and began to pull adjoining sections into the lava below. The shake of the collapse paused the combatants and when Lontra noticed the cascading event, he suddenly turned from Archian and threw himself into a inhuman leap to the first ring of the pyramid. Landing on a rocky outcrop untouched by the flowing lava, Lontra was quick to turn back to his fellow Arconan and pointed his right vambrace at the Shistavanen.

A smirk kept across the man’s face when Archian flinched, as if expecting the vambrace’s built-in blaster to discharge. Instead, the vambrace fired a grappling line that sailed around the field medic and wrapped tightly around his torso. Once the line was taut, Lontra grasped it with both hands and heaved away with a defiant shout.

“Get over here!”

The Arena exploded with cheers as soon as Lontra's last words were said. The body of Shistavanen was pulled, taking breath out of his lungs as soon as his whole posture flew across, falling flat at his belly and rolling forward as soon as human hands released the ropes, stepping aside, letting furry body pass him by and stop at the nearest rock. The Face of Force Disciple wore a satisfactory smirk.

Shistavanen slowly, without hurry stood up. “Thank you. Now are you satisfied?” He said to Lontra with the question. “No. Not yet.” He responded, activating his Lightsaber. With smooth hand movement, Human used Force to pull Shistavanen closer. Fluently lifted the weapon higher at the height of his neck, just under his chin, and hands at its handle one after another. “Wshhhhhhh.” Archian whistled in high pitch. “Impressed?” Force User asked with an even bigger beam at his face. “No. Just itchy. Do you mind scratching my nose? You see… I can't.” Red Wolfman replied egotisticaly.

This one sentence crossed the line. Lontra immediately pushed the saber closer to Shistavanen's neck aggressively and through his teeth said. “Unbelievable! You made my jump here! Destroyed my Droid!” Continued rising voice. “Let's cool the atmosphere a little.” Archian pushed his paws down, and with a subtle touch of small trigger connected to his hairy finger ejected the cryo-ban liquid from the flame projector underneath them both. Both postures fell on the ice, sliding, and getting their armors wet from hot underlying rocks. Spectators cheered happily from every possible seat.

“I'm gonna kill you!” Lontra shouted, trying to get up, but a small shadow flew next to him, hitting his leg with a beskar helmet. Human fell to the ground again. Porg slided to the front of him, stared at him, and threw popcorn at him. All the people watching the duel laughed, Archian didn't join them, but only because with a cheeky smile, was holding laughter inside of his snout.

The lightsaber user enforced himself with the Force, and fastly reached Shistavanen, without bothering to stop at the Porg still holding some popcorn with its wings. The weapon was lifted above his own head, ready for a strike. “Any last words?” He shouted from furiosity and embarrassment. “No. I don’t think so.” Archian calmly answered, still holding back own laughter. “I told you, that I surrender. Do you fancy a pub and dice game?” At that moment the ignited saber moved down, passing mercenarie’s head, and cutting handcuffs to unlock them - Lontra released a deep breath.

“Sure. Just promise me some popcorn. It smells incredibly good.” Arcanist said, gave hand to Archian to help him to lift up from the flooring. Unexpectedly Shistavanen raised both own and opponent's arm above hands and pointed at fellow Arcona's member as a winner.

“Agreed.” He nodded, not paying attention to the cheering around the crowd - both from the gesture, but also from one of the most strange battles they had seen this season.

In the meantime Porg was making circles around them, skating at the leftovers of the ice.