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 Bridges.

High-suspended walkways cross and weave through multiple levels of platforms. Some are solid, metal and duracrete crafting an unmoving foundation. Others are mere rope and wood, swaying with even the most gentle of breezes.

Below the walkways is a void filled with mist, the ground unseen for combatants and spectators alike. Periodic ripples of electrical energy can be seen through the mist, hinting to the deadly nature of the arena floor below.

Wind brushed through Zuza’s hair as she stepped through the entrance gate. The initial burst carried Idris Adenn’s voice through the air around her. Frond’s ears flicked, golden eyes turning up to the holoprojectors.

“WELCOME TO BRIIIIIIIDGETOPIA!”

A short giggle escaped the young woman before her gaze focused on the arena around her, drones swooped through the tangle of bridges. Some were made from duracrete, spanning large swathes of the space, with wobbling rope bridges passing between them in all directions. Zuza grinned, dropping a few feet onto the nearest wooden bridge angling up towards the top of the arena.

It drifted with each step, swaying back and forth, and was only interrupted by particularly powerful gusts of wind. Lightweight and short as she was, Zuza was fairly certain it wouldn’t take much to capsize it.

Frond barked from below, the cythraul padding along the original duracrete bridge they entered onto. Initially he’d been above his master but now looked up. Yet it wasn’t Zuza his gaze was locked onto. It was ahead of her, to the plasteel bridge her chosen path connected to.

Aiden Lee Deshra’s visor was directed down at the Arconan Consul, stepping slowly as he considered his opponent…

“Hey, I’ve seen you around. Aiden, right?” Zuza waved, coming to a stop on her bridge.

“That is me,” the Mandalorian answered, his modulated voice giving little away. He watched Zuza press her feet to the rope’s handrail and lean her elbows on the opposing side, twisting the bridge so she was still upright and looking up to Aiden.

“How you doin’?”

“I am well,” Aiden answered, sounding unimpressed from behind his visor. Though as much as her manner of handling a supposedly deadly fight contributed to it, it was more so due to the Voice’s choice of opponent for him. He had to fight his own Consul. No matter how tenuous his connection to Arcona may have been, this was complicated and hardly ideal.

Zuza continued, unaware of the inner turmoil present in her opponent. “Sooo, we’re all good. I don’t really wanna fight you proper. I know that’s what this all is, don’t get me wrong, but I think we could play this different.”

The Mandalorian considered, finally coming to a stop in his approach at the end of Zuza’s bridge. The ropes were held into the plasteel with hefty brackets pinning the fibres in place. “You have my curiosity.”

“Perfect! So, I’m thinkin’,” Zuza said as she straightened up and balanced on the rope-handrail and held onto the one by her head as she looked up to her fellow Arconan. “We should play a game. These matches only last so long before they come clear us out, so all ya have to do is catch me before that happens. If you get me pinned down, you win. If ya don’t, you don’t.” She pointed her index finger toward him, her thumb aimed toward the sky as if aiming a child’s toy blaster at Aiden.

“That’s one way we could handle this–”

Aiden didn’t get a chance to complete the thought before Zuza cheered and dove. Letting go of the handrail, she pushed herself forward, leaping across and rolling onto her shoulder to pad the landing onto the duracrete crossing below her. Frond yipped in panic as she almost barrelled forward into him.

Once kneeling she looked over her shoulder toward Aiden, calling over the chasm, “Catch me if you can!”

Aiden began running along his bridge and then dropped down onto a narrow walkway made of interlocking panels in pursuit of his target. She took a moment to regain her footing while pushing ahead toward the centre of the arena. She’d get there first, barring some mishap. The Mandalorian raised his hand, focusing as he called on the Force and created a vacuum from its connection around Zuza.

The Consul hesitated as the arena around her suddenly became quieter. Sinisterly so. Zuza turned to look over her shoulder. Yet to Aiden’s surprise, her steps only slowed for as long as she looked, an expression of discomfort on her face, before continuing on unaffected. Her senses were dulled and her options were reduced as her connection to the Force was suppressed, but Zuza had spent most of her life unable to draw on the Force. As strangling as it felt, she continued her path ahead.

Aiden dropped down, catching the edge of his bridge and swinging forward slowly before letting himself fall backwards, armoured knees bending and impacting the duracrete. He looked up, and came face-to-face with the maroon-furred form of Frond. The cythraul panted, tail wagging and ears pointed up toward the sky, lowering his head toward the ground with each bounce on his front paws. Zuza wasn’t the only one after playtime, it seemed.

Torn between two mindsets. That was the best way to describe Aiden as he watched the tail-wagging fluff ball in front of him. On the one hand, this was a significant event. He had signed up for, and had been challenged to, a series of high-octane and maximum effort-inducing duels. Whether fighting the “cat”, or his fellow Magistrate, Aiden's previous bouts had been exhilarating and proof of his martial and spiritual prowess. On the other hand, though…this mass of fur and innocence was rather cute. It reminded the Mandalorian of his own Cythraul pup, Kal’ceran. While he couldn’t lose this…interesting interpretation of a match, Aiden was also unwilling to hurt Zuza’s clearly good wolf. He knelt down, bringing himself to Frond’s level.

“Do you wanna play then, boy?” From beneath his helmet, his voice was noticeably modulated and reverberated as he spoke. Frond didn’t seem to care as he yipped happily at the word ‘play’. “As you wish.”

As Aiden stood up, he looked at the wooden rope bridge that he had just crossed. The Mandalorian grabbed a lightsaber from his belt and activated the ghostly white blade. With a quick flick of his arm and wrist, he threw the saber towards the bridge. Spinning through the air, the blade cut through one rope handrail, singeing the frayed edges together. As the saber returned like a boomerang, it severed another spot of the same rope. Aiden’s arm and hand never dropped as the hilt returned to its owner's clutch and deactivated. The length of braided fibers flew over into his other hand. Aiden spun the foot-long section of rope, which Frond’s eyes focused on in an instant.

“You want the rope, boy?”

Frond knelt further down, his tail raised high as it wagged profusely. He seemed to be salivating at the sight of the new toy!

“Time to fetch.”

Aiden threw the rope over to another bridge, away from the path he needed to take to reach Zuza. Frond bolted without a second thought, yipping happily as he darted after his prey.

As soon as he was free of the oversized furball’s frame of vision, Aiden leaped. He landed on another bridge and chased off in the direction his Consul had gone. She wanted to play this game of Lothcat and Snowmouse, and he would oblige.

When he finally caught sight of her, he saw that she had actually put a fair amount of space between them. Even worse for him, her smaller stature was actively working for her as his line of sight kept being blocked by these crisscrossing multi-directional bridges.

“Whoever came up with this arena was a sadist,” Aiden said to himself, his modified voice dripping with disdain. He gazed up to look at the central viewing platform high above them, meaning to shoot Idris a glare when the sight of a higher-up bridge caught his attention. A higher vantage point was just what he needed. “Time to fight smarter, not harder.”

Quickly typing into his vambrace, Aiden activated the jetpack thrusters on his boots. Rocketing upwards, the Arconan tried his hardest to keep a line of sight on his target. Landing on the durasteel bridge, he pulled out his rifle. Syncing up his weapon and helmet’s targeting systems, he tracked the Consul.

…

Zuza never looked back after she heard Frond’s playful yips. From everything she’d heard of the Mandalorian ex-proconsul, she knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her Cythraul friend. Frond wanted to play, and the maroon-coated pup of hers was the perfect distraction for this ‘match’. Now she just needed to widen the gap between them. Slowly she felt the Force return to her, and with each step that connection grew stronger.

Zuza's feet glided across the stone pathway with a dancer’s grace. Despite the inherent danger of this arena, her movements remained fluid and exuded her positivity. Her strides might not have been long, but every step she made showed intention. Diving over the edge of her bridge, she rolled onto the next one with her shoulder, hopping onto her feet before continuing on in a dead sprint once more. From duracrete to durasteel, each bridge she took put more distance between her and her hunter.

As she raced along, she saw a wooden rope bridge coming above her. She stopped running and traced the length of the bridge with her eyes before smiling. If she got to the other end and then severed the bridge, Aiden would have a much harder time getting to her. It would hopefully deter him enough to win this little challenge.

She began channeling the Force into her legs, feeling the warmth empowering her muscles and augmenting her natural abilities, and then she jumped. Feeling the rough grain of wood, her fingers caught the edge of one of the planks, and she carefully pulled herself up. Triumphantly grinning as she looked down the long bridge, she felt victory was close at hand. All she needed was to get to the other side. Taking a few breaths, Zuza dashed onward. With each step she took she could see the end closing in on her. She was going to win! She pushed herself harder and felt a slight burn in her leg muscles. She could take a breather after she was “safe”.

“Almost there,” she thought to herself in excitement. Frond had given her the win in this match!

…

Aiden watched Zuza racing down another suspended wooden rope bridge. He waited, his finger resting on the trigger as he took slow deep breaths. Watching her nearing the end of her path a devious idea came into his mind. Beneath his helmet, he smiled as he quickly fired off three shots.

“Checkmate.”

…

Out of the corner of her eye, three blue bolts of energy tore across the arena. Zuza could only watch as one by one they landed, burning through wood and rope and melting the duracrete around the bridge's wooden posts. Her brown eyes widened as the end of the bridge fell apart, tearing free from the duracrete landing and falling towards the misty void. The planks shook beneath her feet, and she felt almost weightless for a split second in the air.

As she began to fall, her reflexes kicked in and she reached out, grabbing hold of a rope before it was beyond her reach. What remained of the bridge swung backward, away from the arena’s edge. The crackling of electricity in the fog below nipped at her heels and the wind rushed past her as her hair whipped out of her face. She could only think of one thing to say as adrenaline pumped through her veins.

“Sithspit!”

Zuza’s cuss wasn’t audible across the arena, though it didn’t need to be. Her frustration was palpable in the Force, a small strike of heated jabs passing through it to any that were paying close attention. Aiden straightened up from his squatted position and looked over the mess of bridges. There was a duracrete pathway that would lead him there. Unfortunately, the most direct one still required him to cross closer to the centre of the arena before angling back out.

The Mandalorian dropped onto a wooden bridge, gripping the ropes that bound the deck slats together with the Force. It began to sway like an oceanic tide. With each step forward, he raised his hands and pulled the bridge. The waves grew in strength until he pushed from the crest of the rolling slats, causing them to concurrently jump and race forward at a far faster pace than any running could have generated. It cast him through the air and he landed on one knee, his armour crunching lightly under the force of the landing. Within moments, the scuffing and slight dent had disappeared as the self repair system thrummed into action.

Now on the duracrete bridge aimed directly toward his Consul’s dangled position, he broke into a sprint.

Zuza had attempted to pull her leg up onto the next slat, but the angle was sketchy at best. She tucked her arm over the slat that she was gripping onto to gain a better grip, just as she spotted Aiden’s approaching form.

“Kark.” What else was there to…A holodrone swept past, the buzz of its rotors audible as it stared at her. Zuza grinned, waving with her free arm. “Hey, you want an interview? I’m just hangin’ out.”

The drone hesitated, whirring for a moment before drawing closer. It was the size of a Huttball, but flattened out like it’d been sat on, so, not really that big. Neither was she.

It flew closer, suspending itself in the air with the camera close to get a portrait shot of the Human only to have Zuza swing her arm forward and wrap it over the smooth surface, gripping the edge as its whirring increased in pitch. Despite its struggle, it raised up, only to have Zuza tug her arm free of the slat she’d secured herself on. Zuza and the droid were left dropping in altitude at the sudden movement.

“Come on, you can do it! Ya got this.”

The drone continued its whirring, but slowly and surely raised up into the air. Zuza reached with her leg, swinging it and catching the edge of land with her toes, only to slowly slip. Her boot was pulled up, the friction keeping it in place as her foot lost grip from within, her heel pressing against where her calf should’ve been.

The Arconan Consul swung her leg again, grasping the bridge with her heel as the drone’s propeller stuttered and they dipped in altitude. In a sudden surge of movement that loosened the boot from her foot entirely, Zuza pulled herself onto the bridge. She settled onto her side still grasping the drone. The boot teetered over the edge, wavering a long few moments as Zuza watched before slipping down into the abyss.

The drone whirred, higher than before as it struggled against her arms and began to lift again.

“Oh kist, sorry.” Zuza released it, watching as it wobbled up and out of even a Sarlacc’s reach.

A short bork brought her attention back to the arena. Aiden was imminently approaching but Frond dropped a rope beside her hand. He was very much in the way, panting happily and bounding perfectly side to side across the path she’d need to run on to escape. Zuza sighed, slipping her other boot off. The rope was soggy, but she tied its singed ends around the boot.

“Okay boy, ya ready?”

Borf!

Zuza laughed softly, getting onto her feet and using the weight of the boot to throw the rope further, watching as it landed on a plasteel bridge closer to the centre of the arena.

Frond’s wagging tail disappeared in a blink as he clambered down in pursuit, though Zuza had to turn away. The stomping of Beskar boots became unignorable and she barely turned on her heel to deflect Aiden’s arm with her Beskad blade’s blunt edge, turning to run once more. Her legs took her no further than the Mandalorian’s reach. He grabbed the back of her coat, Zuza’s socks ripping against the rough duracrete and being forced to turn back.

Metal glinted from his belt. Zuza darted forward, forcing him off balance long enough to rip the grappling hook from Aiden’s belt and wiggle free of her jacket. She ran again, chest heaving with each breath and firing the hook. It struck the centre pillar, cast into shadow by the VIP box above. Grasping the rope, she swung through the air, laughing in desperate relief only to slowly trail off. The whistling wind didn’t deafen her to the clunk of another grappling hook striking duracrete.

Zuza turned her head, barely needing to look over her shoulder to see the large form of her opponent swinging behind her.

“KARK OFF!”

“I don’t think I will.” If Zuza could hear Aiden’s voice in its true tone, she’d place money on it being smug.