Elevated over a ravine, the Massassi Arena has withstood the tests of time. It is arranged in a circular formation and made by a slab of stone that connects the opposite slopes of the ravine. On its eastern side, the floating arena leads to a staircase and into a near-vertical cliff face. Because of its nearly unsupported vantage that overlooks a several hundred-meter fall, even the smallest creatures can feel the occasional motion the platform makes as the breeze brushes across its cold surface.

Adding to the adrenaline rush of standing within the slab’s concentric patterns carved into the rock, barriers and obstacles echo the Massassi’s commitment to taking every advantage over their opponents. Pillars ring the outer edge without guard rails between them, some remaining intact and others having toppled into the arena or over the perilous heights. Weeds and other fauna cover each surface as nature seeks to reclaim the ravine and eventually send the arena itself to the depths.

A creaky rope-bridge leads away towards another ancient suspended platform with the same weathered, upturned stones. Mossy footing, and uneven ground make each of these platforms unique in small subtle ways. While there is no seating for formal spectators, the ancient stones of the Massassi Arena hold an omniscient, aged wisdom that speak to the things they have seen and the battles fought through history.

A third rope-bridge leads to yet another platform, completing the triad of battlegrounds that make up the Massassi Arena.

Locke inhaled deeply as he stepped onto the platform, moisture filling his lungs as he looked slowly from side to side. The light breeze came as a gentle respite from the arena's humidity, but it did little to comfort him, especially as it seemed to make the ancient stone platform float from side to side. That was disconcerting, but he forced himself to ignore it. The Augur walked to the center of the platform and looked around, noting the environment around him. He made special note of the intact pillars and the remaining rubble of fallen ones.

Abruptly, a voice called behind him in a slightly slurred Corellian accent. "You wanted to see me?"

Spinning around, Locke looked up at the newcomer, who had just stepped off one of the rope bridges that linked the platform to others. The Augur shifted his grip slightly on his weapon, making sure he was ready to raise the rifle at a moment's notice.

"Zachary O'Maille, I presume?" Locke asked.

The man nodded, then sipped from a flask of something. "Locke Sonjie?" he said in that accent. "Why did you want me to come out here?"

Drinking on the job, he'll fit right in, Locke thought wryly, before explaining the situation. "Bentre is gone, and for whatever reason, my Proconsul has chosen you to take his place as Aedile of Shar Dakhan. He may trust you, but I do not. Why should I trust someone who just dropped into our proverbial lap?"

Before he finished his words, Locke raised his rifle. He aimed near the man's shoulder and held down the weapon's trigger.

Zachary dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the steam of laser fire. He ducked into a somersault as it obliterated the remains of a pillar where he had been standing. When Zachary came out of his maneuver, he had a slugthrower in hand, his discarded flask flying off the edge of the platform.

Locke summoned the Force, dropping his rifle as the energy surged through him. He raised both hands and focused, the barrier he erected barely stopping the slugs Zachary fired. The Augur walked toward Zachary, closing the gap to melee range before dropping the barrier and going for his lightsaber.

Zachary seemed to anticipate the Augur's thoughts - going for his own weapon - and in a moment sunfire met azure blade as the two clashed. "What in the nine hells are you doing?" he snapped.

"Testing you," Locke said, speaking quickly as their weapons locked together. "I have to know if you are worthy to lead in Naga Sadow."

"Odd way to show it," Zachary replied. "But very well."

Locke barely sensed the attack coming before the rock hurled toward the side of his head. He had felt the twinge of Force energy, but Zachary was fast. That would benefit him. The Augur leaped backward, narrowly avoiding the flying rock. Zachary took the opportunity to attack, but Locke didn't intend to let him get too close. He opened himself to the dark side, feeling the rush of power and exhilaration that it brought. He added his passion to the mix and it erupted within him.

He thinks he can waltz into the Clan and assume Bentre's position with no credentials? Ha!

Lightning erupted from Locke's free hand as he unleashed the stored energy. Zachary had to halt his advance and quickly threw up his lightsaber to deflect it, catching the energy on his blade. As the power raged within him, Locke spoke, letting his voice rise to show the other man how serious he was.

"What makes you think you are worthy to serve this Clan? Why should I trust you?" He finished with a sneer, the lightning dying away as Locke prepared his next move.

In his short time within the Clan, he had somehow never had the opportunity to meet the Augur. Still, he had taken plenty of time to read up what little was available on the man. His knowledge on the Brotherhood at large was still scarce so it served to at least know his allies a little better. He knew the man hailed from Bakura, that he had served as an Aedile and spent the last year serving as Consul over the Clan. Locke was not to someone to be trifled with.The Savant knew that he needed to pick his next words very carefully.

O’Maille looked hard at Locke, studying the man intently. “I somehow get the idea that you aren’t really here to test me, Consul.” Zachary shook his head slowly as he watched Sonjie’s movements. “Testing me would imply some level of trust.” The Corellian wagged with the tip of his lightsaber at his opponent as he shifted into a more relaxed stance, holding the sapphire beam roughly parallel to the ground.

Locke’s eyes narrowed, his murky irises flashing in obvious annoyance. The Arcanist jumped forward, draw up his left fist as he did so. As he landed, the Augur struck the ground with his fist. Zachary felt the Force wash over him as he lost his footing. Turning into the fall, he tried to plant a hand on the ground. As he landed, he managed to turn his body and cartwheel back into a standing position. His shoulders heaved with an uneasy breath. While he had managed to save himself from a fall, his expression was not entirely confident. Releasing a slow breath the Aedile gave a weak smile.

Despite his unease, O’Maille let out a sharp laugh. “Surely you knew I followed the Force’s will here. Did you talk to that Versea girl about our conversations? Did your Proconsul tell you about our talks about visions? I am here because the Force brought me here. Are you saying you distrust the Force?”

As he saw Sonjie’s gaze narrow at his words, Zachary threw his right hand out, his weapon spinning in a dead arc toward the Sadowan Consul.

Locke side-stepped and parried Zachary's lightsaber with his own, sending his opponent's weapon off to one side. He waited until it floated back to the other man's hand, wary of the weapon's position relative to Locke's. The Arcanist held his lightsaber down at an angle, trying to make himself seem relaxed as he answered the other man's questions.

"The Force is just a tool." Locke had been a soldier before finding the Force. He did not believe in the Force's guidance any more than he did in prophecy. "It is a fool's errand to let it lead you."

"That is where you are wrong, Consul," Zachary said. "The Force shows guidance. It is much more than a tool. The Force is a living energy."

Locke chuckled dryly, his voice turning to sarcasm. "Now you sound like a Jedi. That's just what we need in Naga Sadow. Another blind idealist."

"I'm no Jedi," Zachary growled. "Nor an idealist."

He advanced forward, angling his weapon toward Locke's head. The Arcanist parried and tried to prepare a counter attack, but before he could, the other man pivoted, and suddenly his weapon was aimed at Locke's wrist. The Consul retreated into a defensive stance, briefly glancing to one side as Zachary approached. The Arcanist flicked the fingers of his free hand, the Force - invisible to the naked eye - leaping from his fingertips to part of a fallen column. A rounded chunk of rock hurled at Zachary's head from behind as Locke parried his next strike.

Zachary must have sensed it, because he backed away, allowing the fragment of rock to fly between them. It smashed into another column, causing that one to topple into the vast canyon below the platform.

The two locked eyes, and Locke knew Zachary was trying to decide how best to attack again. The arena was silent, save for both combatants breathing. Locke decided to fill that silence before Zachary came up with a good way to attack.

"Every other Dark Jedi or Sith who shows up in Brotherhood space claims to be guided by visions. That may be good enough for Sang, it may be good enough for Tasha, but you will find that my judgement is not as easy as theirs. I don't need another potential enemy living in my Clan."

Even as he spoke the words, Locke knew they were without meaning. Everyone was a potential enemy. Sang, more or less a Jedi in hiding, could decide that Locke's methods were too cruel and seek to overthrow him. Tasha would likely support the Jedi if he did that. His Rollmaster had already attempted to seize power once, as well. Then there were the Sons and Daughters of Sadow. Each had their own plans and goals, and those often conflicted with Locke's. It was not even a surprise when it resulted in open conflict.

If visions were all Zachary had, then Locke wanted to see what he would do when they were not accepted as a convenient excuse. If he were to be a successful leader, he would have to be more creative than that.

"Surely there is more to you than some visions."

He let that statement hang in the air between them. Zachary did not attack. Locke imagined he was thinking through his options. He had gained the trust of Sang, and - apparently - Tasha. Striking down Locke, or bloodying him, might break that trust. At the same time, if he merely disengaged and left, that would definitely reduce Locke's trust in him.

"Most Dark Jedi are fools," Zachary said. "I am not here to strike at you. I was drawn here. Perhaps it is because you have so many potential enemies that I am here - to help and serve."

"Perhaps," Locke mused, "but I do not know if you are strong enough."

Locke did not wait for a reply. Instead, he attacked the other man. The Arcanist swept his lightsaber up toward Zachary's midsection, to which the Sorcerer responded with a downward parry which left Locke open to counter attack. The Consul called on the Force instinctively, quickening his movements to reposition and block his opponent's next strike. Their blades barely touched, Locke narrowly deflecting Zachary's strike away from his body. The Sorcerer was skilled, and would probably defeat Locke in a fair fight.

The Arcanist didn't intend to fight fair. However, he also did not want to injure Zachary too badly, so he had to end the fight carefully. He did intend this as a test, after all.

Filled with the Force, Locke shunted it's energy to his arms, reaching to his belt and raising his hand with a primed thermal detonator in the blink of an eye. He tossed the device at their feet and leaped backward, seeing that Zachary did the same. However, the detonator did not stay where it was. Instead, it rolled toward Locke, following his jump. He saw Zachary focused on it; feeling the Force flowing from the other man toward the detonator.

Locke didn't have time to curse before the device exploded, filling the arena between the two combatants with brilliant fire.

As soon as he saw the detonator moving closer, Locke summoned the Force again and erected another barrier, shoving it between his body and the device. The explosion buffeted the barrier, pushing Locke backward, finally shattering his defense and causing Locke to collapse back onto one of the rope bridges leading to the platform.

It didn't support him. Distantly, ears ringing, he felt the bridge falling, realizing that the explosion had detached it from the platform. The Consul grabbed onto the rope railing of the bridge and groaned as his body ached from the force of being thrown backward. He was not burned that he could tell, but had not been able to stop the kinetic strength of the explosion from causing his body injury.

Gritting his teeth, Locke held onto the Force, doing his best to ignore the pain as he climbed up the remains of the rope bridge. He finally managed to scramble onto the smaller platform it connected to and turned around, searching for Zachary.

He gasped when he saw the result of the explosion. The main arena platform was gone, either dislodged or destroyed by the explosion; the other rope bridges hanging in tatters as well. Zachary was nowhere in sight. Feeling a stab of frustration - more at the possibility the man had died than that he had apparently tried to kill Locke - the Arcanist weakly reached out with the Force. He closed his eyes and focused. His body ached. His ears ringed from the explosion. He could hear his heart pounding from exertion, but he tried to ignore it.

Finally, Locke sensed that Zachary still lived, somewhere far below. He sensed frustration, pain, and determination. Zachary did not seem that badly injured. He would definitely live and be able to escape this world on his own.

At the limit of his own energy, Locke rolled over and passed out, his last thought of how poorly that encounter had gone. It seemed his methods did not always work.