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 Jungle.

A simple design, hot, humid, muddy, and murky, the imported jungle setting has plenty of dangers to be found within its thick growth of plant life. Quicksand, sticky mud, and entangling vines all wait for the ill-prepared combatant. Yet something more causes a chill down your spine.

Within the shadows even more dangers lurk. Deadly creatures such as the Nexu, Acklay, and Gundar hide away in the lush vegetation waiting for their next meal. And even then the periodic roars and thudding ground hint that maybe something even more deadly waits in the jungle's depth.

Morgan absolutely hated being in the jungle. Of all the settings the Combat Master could have dreamed up, why did he make the Colosseum into this dark, dank, humid tangle of vines and plants? It has been said that people naturally hate the opposite of where they were born and, as a native Nar Shaddaan, this was as far from the glamorous metallic skyline and bright neon lights as you could get.

The athletic woman’s cybernetic hand brushed aside a large palm leaf as her one good eye tried desperately to adjust to a ray of light that cut through the jungle canopy. She could feel the wild life that filled the arena. It felt familiar to her like that of an old tool well-used over many years. She and her opponent were violators of what little new territory they had carved out, and soon they would have to be dealt with. She could feel the eyes upon her when she heard the cry for help.

She twirled in place, hand on her blaster, as she sought out its source. It cried out again and she had it. Drawing her blaster, she was not about to be caught unaware as she crept through a wall of vegetation and entered a clearing. A blinding ray of light shone down upon a pit of muck and a figure struggling to keep his head out of it.

The man’s hair was matted flat with foul mud and his teeth were stained as he gulped and spat the filth. “Oh, thank the maker. I don’t care about the match anymore. Just get me out of this,” he said, as waterlogged curtains of cloaked fabric hung off his arms as he struggled to get a grip on a loan branch just outside his reach.

Morgan leveled her blaster at the figure, scanning around the clearing. She fired a warning shot at the man’s head. “This is a trick.”

“Woah! Woah!! What are you doing?” the man said, panicking as he struggled to keep his head above the muck as he tilted away from the geyser of superheated mud. “Help me out and I’ll concede.”

Morgan tilted her head, so her good eye could get a better look at the man. “Aren’t you Kamjin? There’s no way you’re stuck in that muck,” she said, firing two shots now on either side of the Justicar’s head.

Kamjin slammed his head back into the muck. Only his mouth was left free for air as he struggled to avoid the blasts. Stagnant water arced forward as he brought his head up. He blew horrid chunks of jungle filth out of his nostrils, coughing for air. “It didn’t look like this when I fell into it. I’m not going to die because Idris thought it would be fun to create a sandpit in the Colosseum.

Morgan mulled it over. An easy win versus the likelihood that this was a trap. She could have pulled him out easily with her Mitrinomon Thrusters and it would let her advance quickly. Her milky white eye bore into the man and as she blinked she caught the slight smirk and knew it was a trap.

“No deal,” she said, as she began firing directly at the Justicar. With a sickening plop, the Justicar leapt free of the pit. The muck was flung over the clearing, splattering Morgan as she turned to shield her face. For a moment she thought she saw the carcass of a Nexu in the pit that Kamjin must have been using as a platform. She continued to fire blindly at where the Justicar should have been.

There was a familiar snap-hiss as a blood-red blade ignited, and the blaster bolts were deflected. The plants sizzled but were too waterlogged to catch fire so easily. “What the kark? I thought you Odanite’s were peace-loving people,” Kamjin said, as he landed and brought his blade upwards to defend against another shot.

“Why do people keep stereotyping us? I am not some Jedi loving hippie,” Morgan spat, as she whipped her hair around. Chucks of muck plopping to the ground. “I’m going to show you that I’m nothing like them.”

A thunderous roar echoing through the jungle drew the attention of both combatants. Morgan smirked.One thing that could make this hell hole much more interesting is a good fight. She ignited Furia with a flourish and holstered her Bryar pistol as the duo circled each other, assessing carefully what their next move would be. There was a fire in the woman’s eye, Kamjin noted, a kind of fire that made his Force-given senses cry danger.

“We’re about to have company. You really want to do this now?” Maverick cut her off just as she was about to pounce into an attack. They both sensed the creatures around them, more specifically the several larger specimens rushing in their direction, drawn in by the blaster fire.

Sorenn smiled and squeezed Furia even harder. “Makes it more interesting, in my opinion.”

Her attack was as swift as he expected it to be — maybe quicker. Damn fast! he thought as he triggered his gauntlet’s flamethrower into her face. Morgan slipped under the flaming inferno as it singed her back and rolled through the mud to Kamjin’s right, under his dominant arm’s guard and away from his gauntlet. Before she could get into range to strike at him, Maverick sensed and then saw the jungle underbrush exploding behind Morgan as a pack of wild, hungry Nexu rushed out. He jumped backward and upwards, out of danger, and onto a tree branch some twenty feet up.

“Suck to be you, eh?” He asked with a shrug as his saber disengaged and he observed the entertainment.

Morgan jumped backwards as well, somersaulting in the air as one of the Nexu pounced at her. Furia twirled in the air, bisecting the beast just above the thigh with one swift slice. It fell to the ground yelping as its hind legs and lower torso twitched in the mud. Guts spilled out of the cauterized cut, mixing with mud to give off a revolting stench. Morgan’s nose jerked at the sensation, but she pushed it away before it could churn her stomach.

“Funny guy,” she yelled out at Maverick as her focus shifted on the other beasts. The remaining duo circled around her, cautious but hungry and salivating.

“Watch out, they’re not kitten around,” Kamjin hollered back with a smirk.

“Ugh!.” She rolled her eyes and barely had time to voice her disgust before the Nexu jumped her. She rolled across the mud, evading one of the beasts sure enough, but the other was on her in moments, raking her back with its extended claws. Morgan grit her teeth, growled at the beast, and rammed Furia into its chest, slashing it apart. As it crumpled on the ground, a powerful lightning bolt out of Morgan’s free hand jumped towards the last one. It convulsed and howled as its internal organs cooked and its fur caught fire.

The last of the beasts felled, she took a breath and winced at the pain across her back.She stretched her neck and called upon the Force to dull the pain. The mud seeping into her wounds certainly wasn’t helping matters. “I’ve heard better puns from an Ithorian, lawman.” She stared at Kamjin who was leaning against the tree trunk. “Enjoying yourself, are you?”

“You look like bantha dung.” The Justicar replied. “No, that’s an insult to bantha dung. If I’m honest, you look worse.” As if to emphasize his point Morgan brushed away the mud on her face and spat into the muck.

“Turel has the worst comebacks, and the worst jokes. Yours don’t impress.” She gave him a sad, sarcastic expression before she sat on a log half buried in the mud and smiled. “Now we wait,” she said with anticipation.

“For what?” Kamjin expressed confusion.

“The big guy. Or thing. Whatever Idris put in this hell hole that's bigger than these Nexu. At least they make for a good snack and they smell,” she paused, looked at the dead beasts, and grimaced, “appetizing.”

“You might just be insane.” Kamjin laughed. “Never expected someone like you in Odan-Urr.”

Morgan pulled on her flask and took a swig. “Me and Odan-Urr? We’re acquainted at best. Distant familial relation. Kinda like you and and the Sith you pretend are still the same ones you knew when you weren’t a fossil.” She laughed out loud. “Look, it’s alright if you don’t like me. Actually I prefer it that way.” She wiped off the mud from her boots and trousers and stood up, readying herself. “Not everyone has good taste.”

Kamjin stared down at the woman as she took another swig from her flask. Something wasn’t right. An Odanite that clearly had a twisted soul worthy of one of those day-time holo programs, Thran constantly required approved leave to attend. But…that wasn’t it. Something else was wrong. It was like a windless breeze had blown through the jungle. His skin felt cool and clammy.

That’s it…it’s quiet. Not even the insects that had been brought in were making any noise. Kamjin lowered his hood. He could feel the unease in the air. It hung heavy upon them. “What did you do?” he asked, as he began to pace away from the tree trunk.

Morgan’s only reply was a hollow laugh and another swig from her flask. Kamjin noticed she was rocking on the balls of her boot like a gymnast readying for a vault. Then it happened, like a vacuum-seal being released. The jungle exploded with noise. “Morgan…what have you done?” Kamjin demanded. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but he was feeling anxiety. An anxiety he shouldn’t have felt from a fight like this.

“You said I was insane. So I did something insane!” Morgan roared with laughter as a wave of insects came buzzing towards them. Kamjin pulled up his gaiter to not suck in the bugs as he breathed.

Bugs? Is that the best she can do?, he thought to himself before his eyes went wide. He could feel it before the ripples began among the leaves. Something was hurling towards them. Something large enough to knock down the trees. “Oh, Kark,” Kamjin cursed as he leapt free from the tree as a marauding stampede of Gundarks, Acklay, Nexu, and gods knows what other creatures burst into their area.

Kamjin twirled his twin saber hilts from his hips and fluidly connected them as dual purple blades ignited. This was a battle to survive, and it was as ungraceful as a dying Porg in flight. He hacked and slashed as creatures tried to trample him. Morgan roared with laughter as she drank, having somehow slunk away from the immediate path of the creatures. Kamjin slashed the hand of a Gundark that had jumped down from one of the falling trees only for its companion to grab him with its miniature arms. Kamjin felt the claws crack his armor and sink into his flesh. As Kamjin howled in pain, he twisted his saber, quartering the creature's arms. He rolled in the mud as the Gundark fell backwards, rolling in pain.

As the Justicar scrambled back to his feet, a family of Acklay caused the ground to shake. The elder knocked another tree over as it forced its way past whatever had spooked them. Kamjin rolled out of the way of the crashing tree only to roll up on a mother Acklay with its children. Kamjin’s eyes went wide as he realized the error he had made. The Acklay’s long neck extended with a roar as she snapped at him, catching his cloak. His body snapped back and forth as he flew through the air before the cloak caught, ripped, and pulled him down to the ground.

“Where’s all those smirking one-liners now?” Morgan shouted between fits of laughter. “Who looks like Bantha dung now, eh?” Kamjin didn’t have time to snap back, he was slicing through pincer arms like he was at a shellfish buffet, and it was twenty credits all you can eat. Kamjin had leapt onto several fallen trees that criss-crossed to gain the high ground. With careful attempts, he leapt from Ackley to Ackley, severing their heads or piercing their bodies. After what felt like hours but was only minutes, he had survived.

His chest heaved. His gaiter was soaked through. It hurt to breathe. As he turned to survey the carnage, he reacted on instinct to block the blackened blade of Morgan’s Forcesaber. The blades sizzled as Morgan pushed the attack. “How’re you feeling now, Justicar? Probably feel like karking poodoo. Probably wish you were more of a Sith than you are,” she baited the winded Elder.

Kamjin stumbled back as Morgan’s blade connected again and again. Blood flowed freely down Kamjin’s pierced arms. His saberstaff felt like it was made of the heart of a white dwarf star. He had to think of a way out of this fight, or it would be his last.

Morgan’s pace quickened as she gave herself to her passions. Anger flowed through her veins, bolstering her resolve, and granting her more power with every blow. She had her opponent on the back foot and pressed her advantage harder, pushing him out of the jungle and into a clearing.

Kamjin blocked a slash aimed to bisect him at the hips, followed by a strong overhead that had the Justicar stumbling backward. She broke through his guard forcing him to swing with his other blade to keep her away, only to raise his saber once more against another slow, impactful stike. Every time she struck with strength and power in the swing she did so slowly, and he deflected it and pushed his offensive, only to have his strikes swept away with quicker, more agile parries. The woman kept him on the edge, reeling one moment, in control the next — she was toying with him in an attempt to display her power. It turned into a dominance battle, like Sith of old. And yet her power she achieved herself, not through a cult or some ancient lore — not a Sith, but something just as potent. Telaris had chosen his former apprentice wisely; he had seen in her then what Kamjin saw now.

He aimed one of his attacks at Morgan’s shoulder. She caught it on Furia, pivoted, disengaged her blade to free herself of the saber lock, and lashed out, fist first, into his face. He stumbled back, twirled around on the ball of his right foot, and raised his blades again, deflecting the incoming blow of the reignited dark saber. He was lucky her little Trakata maneuver unbalanced him enough to take the blow on the cheek instead of the nose, otherwise the bout might have ended then and there.

As the former pirate rushed in for another blow, the jungle rumbled. Trees shook under a massive form headed their way, snapping trunks and rustling leaves droning ever closer as they both noticed the massive, shadowed shape in amongst the trees. With a roar, a Chirodactyl jumped the last several dozen feet, spread its wings over the canopy, and grabbed the tops of the trunks with its massive claws. The trunks snapped, toppling under its weight, and, with nowhere else to go, the beast plunged into the clearing to the stunned, silent shock of every person in the crowd.

Both Morgan and Kamjin looked at each other, then the beast, and took several steps back, readying their weapons. As the Chirodactyl shook away its momentary dizziness and its eyes caught sight of the duo, it let out a roar that made the crowd equally cower in fear and howl in exultation. The beast spread its massive wings and took flight, wing-wash toppling the combatants into the mud. It plunged with its claws and raked deep grooves next to Morgan who rolled out of the way. Luckily for him, Kamjin found himself out of harm’s way as he ducked under a flapping wing and rushed under the canopies, into safety.

“Sonnuva gundark!” Morgan spat as she found her footing and sabered the beast's foot, angered by a moment of triumph lost. It took off with a howl of pain and anger, tossing her aside with a kick from its claw. Morgan tumbled back, losing Furia in the mud. The beast roared, lifting itself above the stands and the terrified crowd. Royal guardsmen stepped out of line to protect the Council, blasters and armors gleaming, while Iron Army troops hidden in many of the arena’s archways shot at the beast to drive it away from the spectators. Annoyed by the gnats shooting at it, the Chirodactyl instead went for the easier pray, swung back towards the arena, and dove onto the former pirate.

Morgan lifted herself with a painful grunt, took another swig from the flask, and tossed it aside as Furia rattled from the mud into her hand flashing to life with her building anger. Intoxicated, tired, wounded, and distracted the former pirate gritted her teeth. “Come on!” She yelled as the beast's claws rushed towards her.

The Chirodactyl grabbed at her, and just as she sliced its claw open, lightning struck them both, spilling freely from the fingers of the bewildered Justicar. The Chirodactyl contorted in the air, wings clipped and smoking as it fell face-first into the mud and slid across the ground, lightning still flowing through its bulk. Kamjin nearly drained himself as he poured all his emotions into the strike to keep the beast down, but also to keep Morgan at bay. He swore he could hear laughter among the shrieks of pain.

As he finally let up and the Chirodactyl relaxed in death, body smoking, feathers burning, he turned his attention to the former Pirate Queen, his sabers ready to be ignited. He relaxed.

She was wheezing heavily, clothes smoking, arms twitching, and yet still her laughter persisted. Her one good yellow and red eye, almost glowing, stared at him. He could feel her attempting to reach out and gather her energy from the Force surrounding them. He felt her fail.

“You got…this one…lawman.” She spat out through grinning teeth before her world faded to black.

Absolutely insane, Kamjin thought as he limped towards the arena’s exit followed by adoring cheers from the crowd above.