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.

Calling hoots, crackling leaves and whistling of wings surrounded Turel as he entered the jungle, leaving the cool space of the waiting area behind and barely hearing the click of the door closing. Humidity filled the air, flittering sunlight passing between the thick canopy above. None of the inhabitants here were visible to a wandering eye; the shadows cast provided more than enough cover to only be able to sense the critters filling the land.

It’d be easy enough to blend in, at least.

The Jedi kept his pace steady, each step light through the undergrowth as he wrapped the Force around himself, adding legs and spikes to his visage until he was more an elongated Nexu than a Human. The stripes covered its whole body, distorting the already vague portrayal. He wasn’t one to go too big either way, and in the dim light, this should frighten off any untoward predators.

Speaking of such, the lack of an opponent became more notable as the minutes passed. Turel inhaled slowly, connecting to the life forms surrounding him to sense for them. After a moment, he found the bright spot of energy within the Force that was his opponent. She wasn’t far, the short form of another Human crouching as she traversed in the canopy above. So she thought she could hide from him?

Turel wandered towards her, a smile lighting his face despite hiding behind his illusion. Watching his step as the ground grew less stable and hopping from tree root to tree root, calling out into the murky air, “Ooooooo, watch out for the Wexu.”

Zuza frowned upon hearing the distant voice, dropping slightly from the sheer height she’d clambered to out of curiosity. What was happening? What in the Galaxy was a Wexu?

“Nerfalumps and Wexus, are very confoozles.” The haunting voice was getting closer.

It didn’t take long before she got her answer. A large, horribly deformed, brightly coloured form stumbled wildly below her, pausing in place and looking up with the sharpness of a straight razor being flicked open.

“WHAT THE KARK-”

Zuza didn’t stop to find out what level of weirdly karked-up creature had just made eye contact with her. It didn’t look real! Knowing the name Wexu was enough for Arcona’s Consul. She bounded from tree to tree, feeling the taller branches bending beneath her weight before slipping down a tree trunk to settle on the forest floor. With her path above, hopefully, her new route would give her the upper hand against that thing.

The crunching of leaves got closer, and she slipped beneath a bush. Drawing her blade and holding it against her side, she knelt with her chest low to the dirt. The dirt stained her shirt, and twigs stuck to the mud.

The crunching came closer. Turel chuckled to himself, a soft noise that sounded more like a grunt from several metres away. The Jedi began letting his illusion slip away, piece by piece. His opponent had made a hasty escape, providing plenty of time to consider his next move. There was a clear path in the canopy to follow. Broken vines and freshly fallen leaves marked the path and gave time to-

“Piss off, Wexu!”

Zuza’s voice snapped through his line of thought. Leaping from the bush she’d nestled into, the blade of her Beskad glinted as it swung through a lone sliver of sunlight breaching the canopy. Zuza’s eyes widened, realisation dawning with no time to redirect the blow.

A warning shot across Turel’s consciousness, causing him to try to move to dodge the blow. The downward slash of Zuza’s leap attack would have taken his left arm off if the Jedi hadn’t started to move out of the way. Instead, the deadly sharp Beskad nicked his shoulder and cut an unsightly gash in his jacket.

“OW!” Turel exclaimed as he brought up his right hand to favor his lacerated left shoulder.

Zuza kept her Beskad pointed at the Odanite, adrenaline still surging through her veins and her mind rushing to process what just happened. “That was you?! What in seven hells is a Wexu?”

“It’s from a children’s story,” the Jedi replied calmly as he removed his jacket slowly to assess his injury.

The Shadow Lady felt a growing surge of frustration, “A children’s story? Is this some kind of game to you?”

Turel looked up at Zuza with a sarcastic glare and said nothing for a moment, “I mean this is a game if you think about it.”

“That’s not what I mea—nevermind!” The Arconan cursed her luck at pulling this clown for an opponent. Turel had been a major ally to the Shadow Clan within Odan-Urr and a former Qel-Droma Quaestor in a past life. He was also notorious for deliberately trying to make a mockery of the Combat Center on various occasions.

The Jedi ripped one of the sleeves off his jacket and formed it into a makeshift bandage to wrap around his shoulder and armpit. Blood dripped onto the jungle floor. “Oh that’s just great.”

“What?” Zuza replied.

“I’m no animal expert but I’m pretty sure the smell of blood will–” Turel stopped mid-sentence as a rustle in the nearby underbrush drew his attention toward an array of eyes staring at him.

Zuza spun around to point her weapon at the new threat. “--attract predators,” she finished the Jedi’s thought.

Before Turel could reply, an actual Nexu leaped from the bushes to try to pin him down and presumably take a bite that would swallow half his body. The Jedi reached out both hands and made a motion over his head. The beast’s trajectory altered in an unnatural way to have it go from landing on Turel to sailing over his head into a nearby tree. The temporarily stunned predator got back up and snarled at the Odanite.

“Get out of here, I’ll hold this naughty kitty off,” Turel reflexively commanded as his instinct to protect the smaller woman kicked in and he stepped between her and the Nexu.

“Hey! I can more than handle myself,” Zuza retorted as she moved beside the Jedi with her Beskad at the ready.

“So can I. Please, get away!” Turel stepped in front of Zuza once more, sweeping a hand out to make himself the obvious target to attack only to have the shorter Human slip under his arm.

“You’re the one who’s injured!” she raised her Beskad, prepared to defend with a wide stance and the blade blocking most of her body.

“And who’s fault is that?” Turel put his hands on his hips but was interrupted by the Nexu making its attack, charging. The Jedi jumped, grasping onto an overhead branch with his uninjured arm and lifting his legs out of the Nexu’s trajectory.

It was only after the beast had passed that he saw Zuza had chosen the opposite direction, already rolling onto her side. She twisted herself, pushing up and regaining her feet within a breath. Not wanting to lag behind, Turel dropped down and promptly stumbled, the leaf litter beneath his feet shifting.

Zuza watched as Turel pinwheeled his arms forward before leaning back and placing his hands onto his hips once more, a winning smile on his face.

“Nailed it.”

The Human woman snorted, raising her hand to prevent the laugh from fully escaping. Not that it went without notice.

“I did!”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You can’t stab me and then tell me I didn’t nail a landing, that’s rude-”

The Nexu prowled in and interrupted them with a furious growl, the ominous rumble radiating through the air.

Zuza looked at it, raised a hand and added, “I wasn’t going to say anything, but being as you’re askin’, no you didn’t!”

“Hey!”

Zuza stepped forward as the Nexu slammed its front paws into the dirt, the charging attacks not working. It swiped at her, only narrowly being dodged as she made a shushing noise.

“You don’t have to be scared of us.” The reply she received was a hiss, the Nexu raising a paw only to have Zuza slip closer. She dipped her head, breaking eye contact and placing her hand toward its nose. She’d learned plenty about creatures, between her friendship with Anders and his Nexu and training her Cythraul who was somewhere around here. Sometimes all they needed was to know they weren’t small.

“See, I’m not scary. Ya don’t have to prove anything.”

Its hissing reduced into a rumbling growl once more, nostrils flaring as it inhaled her scent. The Nexu took a moment, leaning forward but retreating before making true contact with her hand. It turned its head to look behind itself a moment before a roar shook the forest around them. Crashing footsteps thundered toward them and the shadow of a huge beast passed through the sunbeams breaking past the canopy. The Nexu whined before rushing away, its tail whipping round and, the action entirely unintentional, smacking Zuza directly in the face.

She landed on her butt, sputtering in shock.

Despite the chaos, Turel stepped forward, narrowing his eyes to peer through the murky light.

“A Rancor. Well, that’s even more rude.”

The Jedi twitched his hands, raising roots from the ground itself. They creaked, rended free of the earth, and loosened the dirt beneath them while making any ground-bound beasts have to clamber over the newly raised mess. The roots were so deep he kept pulling, the trees themselves ready to pin the Rancor down and give Zuza the time to get a head start on running. It wasn’t until he was ankle-deep in the dirt that Turel realised the roots had been the only thing holding the ground stable. As he tried to pull one leg up, experimenting with the severity of the situation, the panicked voice of Arcona’s Consul piped up from behind him.

“My arse is stuck!”

“I think I’ve seen a holo that started off that way,” Turel quipped as he turned around to help the Arconan Consul.

Zuza didn’t miss a beat despite struggling to free herself from her earthy restraint, “Was that the one your sister was in?”

Turel stopped in his tracks and cocked his head to the side in shock, for a moment, he was uncharacteristically speechless. After the moment passed, the Jedi kicked himself for not seeing it coming, one doesn’t rise the ranks of the shadow clan without being adept at throwing shade. He reached out and willed the Force to gently pull Zuza up and out of the ground, setting her gently down on a nearby rock.

Zuza made a mental note of her opponent’s weakness when it came to Morgan. She hadn’t expected a throwaway comment like that to stun a loudmouth like him into silence, even if for a moment. Still, she savored her momentary victory with a grin.

A loud roar shook the ground as the rancor drew closer. It was headed directly toward them, almost as if something was driving the creature in that direction. Zuza gingerly lowered herself from the rock, ensuring the ground was solid beneath her. She slapped dirt off her pants as Turel approached.

“So what are we going to do about the—” the Jedi’s statement was interrupted by a grow in the bushes behind him. “--oh kark!” The Odanite dove to his left as a maroon blur of fur and claws lept at him. Turel scrambled backward as a large Cythraul approached, growling and bearing its fangs. “Nice doggie.”

“Frond!” Zuza exclaimed with a mixture of surprise and relief. The canine responded by rushing to its master’s side, making sure to place itself between Zuza and Turel. “He’s not a threat—for now.”

Turel stood up, genuinely relieved. He knew enough about cythrauls to know about their loyalty, intelligence and ferocity. He didn’t know how effective one would be against a rancor but it was better than nothing.

Right on cue the rancor threw a tree a surprisingly large distance with enough accuracy to cause both humans and the canine to jump away from it. The beast appeared to be a normal rage rancor with the typical horns all over its body. As it grew closer Zuza noticed the familiar glow of crystals embedded in the creature’s hide.

“It’s…it’s…ascended,” the Consul muttered as she readied her beskar blade.

Fear shot across both combatants like never before. They both were veterans of the war with the Children of Mortis and had their own experiences facing their abominations. Why the Council kept one and deployed it for the combat center was an issue for another time.

Turel ignited his lightsaber with a deadly serious look on his face, “take your dog and get out while you can.” Memories of comrades getting torn apart by similar ascended battle beasts flooded the Jedi’s consciousness. Not today he thought as he steeled his resolve.

For a moment Zuza considered heeding the Jedi’s warning and retreating. She had seen similar horrors on the battlefield herself. Frond had turned their attention toward the new threat, maroon fur on its back standing up. She was no Jedi, but she was the Shadow Lady, “stop trying to play the hero and work with me. Our odds are better together.”

It was hard for the Odanite to deny her logic: “Okay. We have to go for its eyes; it's one of the only weak points.”

Frond rushed forward to intercept the abomination, the instinct to protect Zuza taking control. The rancor made a clumsy swipe at the cythraul, which the more agile canine handily dodged. Orange fingers of lighting crackled on the rancor’s crystals as it smashed through trees trying to smash Frond.

Turel threw his lightsaber at the rancor’s face. The spinning blade found its mark and bounced off the beast’s forehead with a burst of sparks. “Hey, over here you gray sack of poodoo!” The saber returned to its owner’s hand in a smooth arc.

The rancor turned and diverted its attention toward Turel as Frond followed trying to nip at the create’s heels. Zuza realized Turel had positioned himself to turn the beast away from her, exposing its backside. She called Frond back to her and jumped on the cythraul’s back with practiced ease.

Turel was quickly running out of terrain and wasn’t nearly fast enough to completely evade the rancor’s swipes. Cornered, he dropped his saber and raised both hands up into the air. A translucent bubble of pure Force energy formed around him. Surveying the situation, Turel noticed Zuza and Frond moving in for the attack. It wouldn’t be the first time he put his life in Arconan hands and it wouldn’t be the last.

The rancor struck at the barrier, throwing its hand back in momentary pain. The blue bubble flashed as it barely held. Turel was visibly pouring all his will into keeping the barricade up. Time seemed to slow as the rancor picked up a nearby tree and swung it at the Jedi. This time the bubble slowed the momentum of the makeshift club and then shattered. Turel was struck and sent flying into another tree nearby, falling unconscious from the blow.

Zuza took the opportunity her Jedi opponent had given her and gave Frond the signal to jump. The pair lept onto the rancor’s back. Zuza jumped off the cythraul and managed to land on the beast’s head. Frond bounced off the rancor’s back, having gotten their master to the vulnerable spot. Zuza drove her beskad into the beast’s hide to form an ancor.

The rancor did not take kindly to this small human digging in on the top of its head and began to thrash and try to swat her off. Zuza pulled out her own lightsaber while holding onto the beskad and swung down to drive the plasma blade right into the rancor’s eye socket. The eyeball exploded with bodily fluid as Zuza drove the blade further in toward the beast’s brain. She rode the rancor’s head as it collapsed to the ground, dead.

“We did it…Turel?” She rushed to the fallen Jedi. He was alive but badly battered from the impact. He slowly came to as Zuza assessed his wounds.

“I guess that makes you the winner,” he coughed before wincing in pain.