History speaks of the origin of the Clone Wars on Geonosis, and the first major clash between the Jedi and the Sith. The Colosseum draws inspiration from the fabled Petranaki arena, certainly, but was built with a more contemporary audience in mind. Located on the planet that serves as the new seat of the Brotherhood's central power, [REDACTED], the structure was rebuilt and renovated from the shell of an ancient foundation that had barely weathered away against the planets ever-changing climate.

High walls, tall enough for even the most savvy Jedi to find unscalable, line a large field of ancient sand and sediment the size of a holoball field. The spectators' chairs are divided into neatly organized sections with seats bunched close together to accommodate anywhere up to a few thousand people. At the center, an elongated platform “box” has been constructed with 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 fight via Holocam Drones.

While unassuming at first glance and looking very much like an archaic gladiatorial arena, the Colosseum features a medley of traps and surprises built into the floor and walls at random intervals. These obstacles include, but are hardly limited to: retractable nozzles that can shoot out gouts of flame; battery-coils that can spit out tendrils of electric current; receding floor panels with electric shock panels; deep pits with sharpened spikes and more. At some points, the ground can simply erupt upwards and create a concentrated, if not impromptu angular-platform that could be used as a springboard or temporary high ground. While seemingly random, these obstacles are handled and triggered by a manned-operator in a control room within.

Outside the fighting arena, the Colosseum features on-site, state of the art medical facilities that can bring nearly anyone back from the brink of the death and offer a full team of trainers, doctors, and rehabilitation units. There is also a neatly kept armory a basic training center with mechanical-dummies, and private sparring chambers.

Blade Ta’var and Aul Celsus stood near the middle of an expansive arena, its high walls casting long shadows upon the two combatants. Thin shafts of natural light dotted the field’s shade as the hot sun overhead peeked through the arena’s large windows above. The Marauder glanced upwards at the imposing height of the walls and couldn’t help but feel very small. Fortunately, she was not alone. She was surrounded by a sea of beings that packed the stands in an amalgamation of colors and species. Horns, lekku, and fangs punctuated the mass of flesh.

Everyone, including Darth Pravus, looked down at the Palatinaean and Sadowan, eager yells and roars filling the air. Despite the dark presence on the central throne, her body filled with hope at the sight of the overwhelming show of support her Clan gave her. It was like a wave of energy that warmed her soul, feeding the inner light she clung to so dearly. Meanwhile, a thick undercurrent of suspense pounded against the Zeltron as the crowd stomped and clapped.

BOOM. BOOM. CLAP!

BOOM. BOOM. CLAP!

BOOM. BOOM. CLAP!

Blade’s heartbeat quickened to the drumming of the rapturous crowd. Each breath came in time with a clap. Beads of pheromone-laden sweat bubbled on her skin. She licked her lips and tasted the sweet tinge of her own perspiration. The Marauder’s cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkled with anticipation. This was what she lived for lately: to prove that she was the best.

That single-minded devotion was squarely centered on Aul Celsus today. He was her final obstacle to victory in this brutal tournament, and she had high expectations for him. The Zeltron watched closely as the Grey Jedi simply stood there, seemingly lost in thought. She reached out to the energy surrounding them and found the Arcanist, a swirl of contradictory emotions.

Disgust.

Ironic amusement.

Curiosity.

“No time for reverie, Sadowan. Come a little closer and show me what you’ve got!” enthused Blade as she ignited her lightsaber with a snap-hiss, throwing the raucous crowd into a frenzy.

“Everyone thinks far too highly of me, but sure,” smiled the Sadowan politely as he ignited his blue blade. The Grey Jedi raised his lightsaber above his head, leveling it parallel with the ground while stretching his off-hand in front of him.

The Marauder submerged herself in the Force and launched herself at the waiting Arcanist. The Palatinaean whipped her lightsaber into a frenzy of swift, deceptive cuts in the hopes of finding an opening. Aul deflected each attack harmlessly away from him, tightly coiling his lightsaber in a whirlwind of blue light. Blade grimaced in frustration. Damn, he has good defenses.

She jabbed and slashed in a constant blur as she attempted to overwhelm the Sadowan’s guard. Their lightsabers clashed again and again, the angry hum of a kksssshhhh filling the stadium. The Grey Jedi attempted to parry, but the Zeltron was already onto her next strike. Blade stabbed her saber towards Aul’s open left side. The Arcanist rushed to divert it.

Whoosh.

Air whipped up the sand around her as a platform emerged under Aul, launching him upwards. Her lightsaber stabbed thin air. Danger tugged at the back of her mind, prompting her to move, and quickly. The Marauder pulled the Force into her legs and leapt back, gouts of flame scorching the ground before her.

Her familiar sense of urgency tugged at her again, but this time she wasn’t quick enough. As she jumped to her left, tendrils of electric current shot out from the ground and pierced her legs. The Zeltron’s flight faltered and she fell, kicking up dirt and sand into the air. She writhed in agony as electricity coursed through her convulsing body. Blade screwed up her face in contorted concentration and took deep breaths as she willed the Force to calm her spastic muscles. After what felt like one too many heartbeats, the Marauder steadied herself and stood back up. Aul calmly hopped down from his perch to join her.

“Now that was lucky. You sure are getting a workout. Looks like the traps don’t like you very much,” remarked the Grey Jedi with a bemused smile as he looked at her dirt smudged clothes.

The Palatinaean paused for a moment. It was no secret that the Grand Master preferred Humans, but would he really fix the match just so one would win? Rumors abounded like wildfire, but that’s all they were, right? Her mind went back to the multiple traps that dogged her every step when the Sadowan appeared to be in trouble. Could Darth Pravus be out to get me?

“It seems that I am having bad luck, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ll do everything I can to beat you,” vowed the determined Zeltron.

“Typical Sith…” sighed Aul. Blade felt a flood of indignation rush through her veins.

“Excuse me?! I may be ambitious, but there are things I won’t do. Typical Sith hurt, maim, and kill for their own pleasure. I am not an animal ruled by baser emotions,” seethed the irate Palatinaean.

“Interesting. You say that, but you’ve murdered before in this tournament and with a crimson blade as well. Curious though, you haven’t used a killing blow here yet. Would you kill me to win?” asked Aul inquisitively.

“No, I only kill the guilty. I’m not your typical Sith. Now shut up and fight,” demanded the annoyed Marauder.

“If you insist,” sighed the reluctant Grey Jedi.

The Zeltron took a deep breath to calm herself, focusing her energy on her desire to find a way to beat Aul’s impenetrable defenses. Despite her annoyance and the seemingly unfair traps, the Marauder grinned. This was a worthy challenge indeed.

“Come face your destiny, Sadowan. I don’t bite too much.” The Palatinaean smiled wryly as she beckoned him with a curled finger.

BOOM. BOOM. CLAP!

Blade winked flirtatiously at Aul and flashed a coy smile. Camera lenses on the drones whizzing overhead whirred their lenses into focus on the pair of combatants, and as the gesture was projected onto the arena screens the audience erupted in a cacophony of applause and cheering.

She sure knows how to work the crowd...

Aul tapped into the massive excess of energies permeating the stadium and let them flood into his muscles. With a grunt of exertion, he launched at the Palatinaean with his light blue blade held high. As Aul closed in, Blade closed her eyes and succumbed to the will of the Force. The Zeltron fluidly side-stepped the attack. Aul moved into her vacant space and inhaled a cloud of the Zeltron’s pheromones, instantly filling his heart with lust and sending it racing through his chest. With the human’s focus lost, the Dark Jedi explosively slammed her crimson blade down upon the Aul’s, causing him to overcompensate his momentum and tumble forward. The Gray Jedi landed clumsily, his face partially buried in the dirt floor of the arena.

The crowd roared with laughter.

Aul hurriedly rose to his feet, spitting out a chunk of dirt. He felt a tiny bit of relief that the dirt and sweat caking his face hid the blush of embarrassment from his misstep.

“Come on sweetheart, you’ve got to have better moves than that,” Blade quipped, standing with her hip thrust to the side and her head slightly tilted. Hoots and whistles filled the air.

The Gray Jedi scanned the stands, looking for a familiar face. His eyes settled on Darkblade, his Master and trusted compatriot; the one responsible for his ascension to this level. The Anzat was making a “V” with the two fingers of his right hand, pointing to his own eyes, then to Aul’s, before finishing with a thumbs-up.

Aul inhaled deeply and focused on the moment, pushing the world out of his mind. He stared at the Dark Jedi with surgical focus, as if his gaze was slicing right through her, to her very core. He considered her; her curves, the texture of her skin, her intoxicating scent. He appreciated the delicate beads of sweat gathering on her brow beneath her azure hair. She was deadly and gorgeous, this Zeltron; a figure to appreciate and fear. The last remnants of her pheromones decomposed in Aul’s nose, her enchantment fading with it.

“Curves and kisses won’t yield you victory today, Blade. You won’t see me falter again,” challenged the Sadowan. Aul spread his stance wide, as if to mount and ride a beast. He bent his legs slightly and raise his blade over his head.

Spreading his vision away from his opponent slightly, he considered the arena space around them. A few metallic panels were barely visible beneath the arena flooring just behind Blade; it was anyone’s guess what they were for, but it was worth a shot.

Aul took a sudden step forward, shouting as he did so in an attempt to confuse Blade’s senses. She took a short step back, raising her lightsaber in defense with her left foot resting on the panel.

Nothing. The panels were silent.

Aul charged at the Zeltron, hoping that movement may trigger its function. The combatants’ lightsabers met with a sizzling screech, while the crowd cheered with bloodlust. Swift cross strikes followed, kicking up a whirlwind of dust around the two fierce opponents. Blade’s vicious strikes steadily deflected by Aul, only to be quickly followed with a deadly parry.

The two moved slowly over the panel until only Aul’s feet remained planted. As soon as Blade’s foot left the metallic platform, a flurry of electricity shot out in all directions. White hot branches coursed along the Zeltron’s body, causing her to arch her back and scream in agony. Every muscle in her body tensed and her veins looked as if they might burst. Aul looked on in curious confusion, standing in the center of the electric maelstrom. Finally, the Dark Jedi collapsed in a limp heap on the arena floor.

“Ha! Ha! Excellent,” came a booming voice across the colosseum from the central dais, “truly an excellent example for the rest,” Pravus mused.

“Something’s not right here,” Aul muttered quietly to himself. He ran over to Blade’s body and knelt down to check her vital signs. As his off-hand reached for her neck to check her pulse, Blade grabbed his arm and twisted it rapidly. An audible tearing sound came from Aul’s shoulder. His agonized outcry was silenced by a swift strike to his windpipe. The Sadowan stumbled backwards, choking and gasping for air.

Blade kicked her legs up and thrust them out, using the momentum of the motion to vault her to her feet. As the Dark Jedi solidified her balance, she pooled the energies surrounding the combatants into her palms and lunged forward, her open hands extended outwards. The dust hanging over the arena floor parted as if a maglev was running through them, directed skillfully at Aul’s chest. As the telekinetic punch struck its mark, the Gray Jedi was launched a dozen meters backwards, slamming into the sidewall of the colosseum.

“Thank you, Grand Master! You really helped me loosen up these muscles,” Blade called out to the throne, rubbing her shoulders and winking.

The entire audience fell to a dead hush. The awkward silence lasted for what seemed like a full rotation before a hearty laugh bellowed from the white-gowned Lord of the Sith.

“I like this one, it’ll be sad to see her die,” Pravus said with a morbid appreciation. The cheers of the crowd must’ve been audible from kilometers away.

Aul rolled over onto his back, trying to catch his breath and gather some strength to continue. As he rolled again to begin to stand, he feared the worst.

BOOM. BOOM. CLAP!

Blade grabbed her lightsaber off the ground, and glared defiantly at the booming Sith Lord’s voice as she rubbed her thumb in anxious circles on her saber hilt. Unbidden mental images of her broken body caked in dirt littered her mind. For the first time today, the Palatinaean feared for her life. Despair gripped her briefly as the Zeltron looked for an escape, already knowing none existed. Fortunately, Aul caught her attention as he rose again. Taking a deep breath, she clung to her own inner light and the raucous, hoarsening crowd. I can win. He’s injured. I just need to hurry.

The Marauder submersed herself in the Force, feeling the arena around her and the Sadowan’s aura of fear. Homing in on it, Blade charged, trusting the Force to nudge her safely to Aul. After several paces, she felt an urge to flee. To the left! The Palatinaean lunged sideways. Clank. She didn’t see the noise’s source, but sighed in relief nonetheless.

The Zeltron rolled down fluidly and pushed off towards her objective. Again, the urge to move. Right! Blade dove, swearing loudly as she heard the familiar pew pew of a blaster miss her by inches. She rolled into a tense crouch, seething at the injustice.

“Karking traps come from the walls too. Damn them,” snarled the Palatinaean to no one in particular.

The Marauder growled and sprang forward, targeting Aul’s presence nearby. After a few long strides, she lit her saber with a crisp snap-hiss and leapt into the air, the Force carrying her above the Grey Jedi in a graceful arc. The Sadowan raised his lightsaber overhead in a high guard parallel with the ground. Blade’s anticipatory smirk was quickly replaced by horror as she watched a pole with a trio of vertical blades thrust up from the ground. The blades clicked into horizontal staggered positions, then spun rapidly in a constant series of whooshes.

“Watch out!” Aul yelled.

As Blade hurtled towards her impending doom feet first, time seemed to freeze. There was no escape. Her mind flooded with fear, bitterness, regret — she wasn’t ready to die yet. The Zeltron captured every moment she had left: the roar of the bloodthirsty crowd, her heart’s thunderclaps as if it was trying to escape her chest, and the Arcanist’s appalled face. The Woman smiled sadly as she turned off her lightsaber and accepted her fate, closing her eyes as fond memories of loved ones accompanied her on her final journey. Her eyes glistened with tears. Strange — was that a lightsaber’s hum?

Reality crashed over the Zeltron as she hit the ground hard, falling awkwardly to her side. Her eyes snapped open to a strange sight: small fragments of blades scattered around the vicinity, pole spinning forlornly, and the Sadowan standing with a relieved smile and unlit saber. A heartbeat or two went by as the two stared at each other. She felt the reassuring presence of her saber in her hand and quickly activated it while rolling to her feet.

“You cut them away. You could have won. Why save me?” asked Blade curiously. The Sadowan paused.

“You’re no good to me dead. You’re lucky that worked. This is getting dangerous. Wear yourself out yet?” inquired the Grey Jedi seriously.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” promised the Zeltron with a smile.

“Are you insane? Don’t you see he enjoys this? They all do. Why play their game?” interrogated Aul.

“Because I think I can win,” answered the Palatinaean earnestly.

“I think you’re crazy, but if you care that much, then I’ll fight...” sighed the Sadowan in resignation as his lightsaber reignited.

“That’s all I ask. Let’s go,” urged Blade.

The Marauder launched into ferocious, rapid-fire attacks, edging her way along his defenses. Aul whipped his weapon into whirlwinds of deflections and parries, catching each assault. The Zeltron jumped back unexpectedly and smiled triumphantly. Let’s see if he can keep up now.

The Palatinaean reached for Aul’s body through the Force, induced his nerves and muscles to relax, and pounced. Blade unleashed an explosive strike near his offhand. The Sadowan barely deflected it, but the Marauder was already on her next strike. She spun out counterclockwise and slashed him from behind. His body angled to deflect, but it was too late. Her lightsaber licked the Human’s back, leaving a long burn. The Arcanist fell with anguished wails and writhed in agony, fighting to stay conscious. The Zeltron secured the Grey Jedi’s lightsaber and pointed her own at the defeated Human.

“Grand Master, I have won,” Blade shouted excitedly.

“FINISH HIM!” yelled Pravus.

“Now...you see the...price you pay to..win his game. Are you w-willing to ne...needlessly destroy life for the sake...of winning? I thought you said y...you were different,” gasped Aul bitterly.

The Zeltron looked at the defeated Sadowan, conflicted between compassion and rapturous ambition. Aul’s a good person. Could I sacrifice him to please Pravus? The Marauder furrowed her brow as she remembered him saving her from the twirling blades of death. A debt unpaid.

“No. I won’t kill him,” vowed Blade resolutely. The boisterous crowd turned silent. Tension of a thousand unknowns filled the colosseum as everyone stared at the Palatinaean and Darth Pravus. Aul’s frail laughter punctuated the eerie silence as it echoed around the colosseum before it abruptly stopped. The Zeltron spared a quick glance and saw a peaceful sleeping figure. About time he used a healing trance.

“Kill him,” ordered the Grand Master in a cold fury.

“No. He is more useful alive,” promised Blade as she looked up determinedly at Darth Pravus. She reached out to the aura surrounding him and found reason to hope.

Amusement.

Vexation.

Curiosity.

Anger.

“Congratulations. Come collect your reward,” replied Darth Pravus. As she walked to the throne she wondered which would prevail...

Aul cursed under his breath and panted in pain. The Sadowan’s head thumped with every cheer of the crowd for their beloved Palatinaean champion. As he tried to regain his composure, searing hot bursts of agony coursed from his shoulder and spread throughout his body. The world began to turn on the Gray Jedi and he bowled over on his knees before vomiting onto the arena floor.

The crowd groaned in disgust, then broke out in another round of laughter.

“Attractive,” Blade taunted the broken combatant. “Come, now, you’ve made it this far. Don’t embarrass yourself. Don’t embarrass your Clan.”

The anxiety and fear in Aul grew stronger as the crowd turned against him. Blade’s statement sent shockwaves through Celsus’ mind as he realized the potential to let his entire clan down, and the devastation he would feel in doing so. His other fights were remote and isolated, if he failed then at least it was his own burden. Here, his mentors, his friends, his family would know. The world around him closed away and he could only focus on panic.

Shame. Outcast. Failure.

Blade looked at Aul cowering on the ground in disbelief. She turned to the section of the stands holding the members of Clan Naga Sadow. “This is your champion? Your great entry to the tournament? What a joke.”

Darkness. Defeat. Death.

A voice broke through the darkness.

“Owly! Get your arse in gear!”

Within his internal realm of terror Aul came alive. He “grabbed” the shockwave of fear running through his thoughts and stilled it expertly. He opened his eyes and the volume of the arena registered in his senses again.

“Oh, good, you’ve joined us again,” Blade scoffed, kicking a bit of dirt in Aul’s direction.

The human locked eyes with the Zeltron and defiantly rose to his feet once more. His left arm dangled loosely at his sides. He turned and looked at his comrades.

“Owly, you’ve got this, you lazy bum!” Ophelia, Aul's Aedile in Marka Ragnos, shouted at the top of her lungs.

Seated behind her, Sanguinius Tsucyra leaned forward on the bench and clipped Ophelia on the ear. Leaning back, he locked eyes with Aul. He wasn’t cheering, but simply sat with a peaceful, knowing expression on his face. Everything he needed to say came through with a simple nod.

Looking down the bench he saw the rest of his adopted family gathered in support of him. Locke, the Consul of Naga Sadow, was organizing a “Corellian Wave” down the bench while Tasha, DarkHawk and the rest of Aul’s Battleteam held up pieces of paper to construct a mosaic of the Naga Sadow seal.

“Woo! Carl!” the former Grand Master Muz shouted, turned away from the arena center and sending lightning bolts haphazardly through the air. A number of bottles of Corellian rum lay beside him.

Aul laughed at the chaotic scene. He turned back to Blade and ignited his lightsaber with a snap-hiss. With the support of his Clan, he found his center; no matter the outcome.

Aul lifted his blade over his head parallel to the ground, but his left arm remained limp at his side. He crouched deeply to minimize his target area to compensate for his handicap.

“Sure, you’re confident. The traps are on your side,” moaned Blade. She raised her lightsaber and bolted at Aul. A trail of dust rose in her wake. Crimson met blue in quick succession as the Marauder ferociously advanced on the Arcanist. Her rapid, unpredictable movement brought her closer and closer to tagging her target.

Suddenly, a small port opened in the arena floor beneath Blade’s feet and a meter-wide fireball shot up from a small nozzle hidden in the compartment. The Zeltron dove away desperately, but her legs were caught in the blast. She cried out in excruciating pain as the top layer of her skin was immediately scorched off. She stumbled a few steps away from Aul, but kept on her feet with pure, fierce determination. Her hilt held tightly in her hands she launched at Aul again, leaving a trail of blood in the dirt.

The cheers and applause from the crowd was remarkable. The fluid, blurred strikes from the half-burned Zeltron against the half-crippled human were a surprise to even the Grand Master himself, who could not help but appreciate her prowess in combat. The Dark Lord of the Sith sighed, looked over at the control booth, then nodded.

With a crunch and a splat, meter-long spikes exploded out of the arena floor. The Zeltron was held in her spot, skewered through various places around her body, blood pooling beneath her. The screams of pain pierced through the cries of horror and gasps of disbelief from the crowd.

Aul stood with his mouth agape, his lightsaber held loosely at his side.

“Help, please…” Blade begged of Aul between sobs.

The human ran to the Zeltron’s side and checked the wounds where she had been impaled. To his horror he found that numerous organs were punctured completely through, beyond salvage by all but the most advanced medical facilities on Coruscant.

Aul slowly moved in front of Blade’s face. He held his hand on her cheek as she continued to weep in desperation. The human knelt down to look directly the Zeltron’s face and connected with her gaze.

“They all love you. Know that. You did wonderfully,” Aul tried to comfort the distraught Blade.

With a swift motion, Aul’s blue blade flashed between them and an instant later a blue-haired head lay on the arena floor.

“Victor!” came the cry that resounded around the arena.