Pirates are a rowdy lot. It is a fact rarely questioned and merely accepted by those who deal with them regularly. While the Herald’s crew is no different, the band's leader has a different approach to facilitating their tendencies. To this end, one of the Matron's smaller hangars — designated Hangar Zerek — has been recommissioned as a combat arena... or execution chamber.

Once a dedicated repair bay, Hangar Zerek is still equipped with fabricator arms and an assortment of Trade Federation droid parts that have fallen into disrepair. A squared off section, including illumination banks at each corner, designates the intended 'arena'. The section is denoted by active shock fences, run by nearby generators. It is here that the crew lets off steam, with the hangar bay sealed.

The hangar itself still has a fully functioning force field that comes into play when matches are meant to become more interesting, or when it comes time to jettison troublesome captives. The hangar bay doors peel open, leaving only the active field to separate the arena from the vacuum of space. The control mechanisms for the hangar doors can be operated manually from the control booth or on a set timer, including the force field's toggle switch.

The control booth is the last segment of Hangar Zerek worth noting. Doubling as an observation deck, it is the only obvious entrance to the hangar. All maintenance hatches and access-ways have been sealed in advance, though the catwalks crisscrossing along the upper layers of the hangar remain. The booth itself is sealed, providing a safe haven for when the force field comes down.

The vastness of space had a feeling to it that was hard to describe. The infinite. An expanse of nothing that meant death for so many species within the galaxy. It was always so close, to those who travelled within its vacuum, yet deceptively far away. That deception fell to the wayside standing within Hangar Zerek. The hangar doors had been fully retracted, leaving only the force field separating the combatants within from being sucked into the void.

"Now now," a voice rang out. The overlay of static was thick, warping the tone of the voice as it echoed within the derelict space. "You're going to be putting on quite the show for us or, well... Would be a shame to have to hit this here button."

The threat was clear. the combatants remained exposed within the hangar proper and the only thing between them and a sudden, violent exit from the Godless Matron was the master control panel.

Take a vessel worth millions, plunge it deep into the Yavin IV jungles and leave it there for the next thousand years and you would still have a better ship than the worthless trash that stood beneath Raiju Kang. It was hard to see a vessel fall into such disrepair - actually, rot was the better word. Yet, this was a mark of the character of the people that called this place home, only through intention disregard could the Lucrehulk-class battleship have been left to corrode to this point. The vacuum in space did well to preserve anything left in its void, a fate the Nautolan now faced as he regained his composure.

Lifting himself off the pad he had been thrown upon, Raiju took a moment to stretch out one of the kinks that irritated his neck. As if that wasn’t enough; a trickle of blood dipped from the Jedi’s now unset nose, bruises had begun to form upon his back and stomach, and a throbbing pain clouded his mind; all of which were a consequence of his failed attempt to elude his captors. Yet, as the Nautolan sighed into a deep breathing exercise; he peered around his environment and could feel a soft presence relieve him of some of the aches and clear his mind. If only he could have kept the same tranquil composure when his gaze fell upon the strange woman with whom he shared the “arena”.

“Caraya's soul!” The words bellowed out of the Nautolan with a howling laugh as he pointed to the observation deck the announcer’s voice had came from, “Did they do that to your face, or were you always this ugly?!”

A look of embarrassment as quickly followed by a flood of anger over the girl’s face, clearly Raiju had impulsively offended the creature - yet, he wasn’t quite sure what she even was. To the Nautolan’s eyes, she appeared to be a type of human; exhibiting the standard facial features and body characteristics. However, her skin had a blue tinge and she had some sort of short tail protruding from her backside. Clearly she had been a product of the “Love is love” philosophy those damn humans seemed to fond of.

“Hurry up and stick it to the halfling!” A voice piped up in the distance.

“If not, I’m going to stick it to her afterwards!” Another voice cackled out with a chorus laughter to follow.

Further heckling had started to sound off from above while the Nautolan finished his commentary on the unsightly woman. Glancing towards the ceiling, Raiju could faintly make out a growing crowd of offensive looking beings that clambered across the catwalks that were thread across the hangar. Several familiar faces, those of his captors, could be recognized in the crowd and Nautolan was reminded of why he was here. Like the feral creatures he would bet on to pay for his drinking and other habits, their purpose for survival was only to be entertainment for those above. Unfortunately for whoever this woman was, Raiju wasn’t going to be facing hard vacuum today. Even if it wasn’t very Jedi-like behaviour, the Nautolan had to trust the Force would reveal its path.

The iconic sound of lightsabers springing to life filled the small pad and left their hum echoing through the hangar. Hues of blue and green splashed colour across the floor and combatants, yet when the Nautolan pulled his green lightsaber, Mist, back and left the hue of Radula colouring the girl; something clicked in his mind.

“Ah hell, that’s why you have a tail.” Raiju chuckled as he now spotted bits of thick hair protruding from the girls collar and sleeves. “You’re a kriffing half Ryn! No wonder they want you dead.”

Furiously, the girl sprang into action and the electro staff that had been dropped in the “arena” with her now twirled in front of the woman in amazing fashion. Each tip of the woman’s weapon hammered toward the Nautolan in alternating fashion and collided with Raiju’s blades; first smashing into Radula and knocking it back then crashing into Mist. Defiantly, the girl stood pushing the staff into the lightsaber as the weapons’ remained locked. Staring past the weapons, Raiju felt he saw a history of pain and humiliation in the eyes of the woman which gave a chill to her words.

“I thought a Jedi would have more chivalry than this.”

Zujenia’s words ended in a quiet hiss and her hands shook with rage, causing the half-Ryn to struggle to maintain pressure against the green blade. The fear of a frigid, suffocating death provided an easy fuel for the anger as it clouded her ability to think clearly and masked what scraps she had received prior to being tossed into the arena. White brows furrowed when the woman caught a flash of slight hesitation within the dark eyes of the Nautolan, her words appearing to have struck some sort of internal cord. She wasted not the opportunity, dropping backwards and unlocking her electrostaff from Mist. A quick reversal of her arms sent the opposite end towards Raiju's torso, which was easily intercepted by a swift block with Radula.

Raiju resumed his offhand visage, twisting his torso to bring around his reversed blade. Green and purple electricity clashed together as Zujenia once again matched his blow. His trailing blade halted her staff long enough for him to spin around with athletic grace, right arm arcing his second blade in a manner that disrupted what sense of balance the half-Ryn had established upon the invisible forcefield, sending her backpedalling. Dark amber eyes darted between the following cyclonic moves, searching for an opening. The torsion of her torso as she reflected his blows slowly flared up her undealt with aches towards the center of her psyche, which brushed small tendrils of anger aside in its wake.

A low, reverberating buzz built up from behind the Knight, the whining gradually getting louder in her ear. Shifting her head, Zujenia made out the pulsing yellow energy of the shock barrier surrounding the arena within her peripheral. A couple gruff voices called out above, followed by a choir of cheers that ruffled the hair on her back.

“Put ‘er up against the wall!”

“C’mon Halfling, shock us!”

Heartbeat racing and hands gripping the cold, metal shaft, Zujenia awaited for the next strike from Raiju’s overwhelming assault. Just as the Jedi’s left arm extended towards her, the half-Ryn knocked aside the green lightsaber. Pivoting on her feet, she released her right grip, wrapping the electrostaff under the man’s chin. Shifting the pole to rest locked in the crook of her arms, Zujenia leaned her weight back, teeth gritting as her muscles strained against the taller opponent.

Head-tresses smacked her in the face as the Nautolan choked and dropped his weapons. He slid back his strong leg, gathering his weight beneath him again. Thick green and black hands gripped beside her own gloved ones. With a grunt, Raiju leaned forward with all his might, hoisting and tossing the half-Ryn in front of him. Zujenia collided side-long into the shock fence, the electricity lashing through her spine and limbs — her torn and dusty clothing offering little insulation.

Dropping onto the forcefield, the woman’s sandy colored tail curled around her leg, searching for some familiarity. The shock had flared up the damaged nerves from when her captors had yanked it from its hidden tether. Gasping, Zujenia managed to roll herself onto her back, placing the stars behind her. Her golden gaze landing upon the crew above on the catwalk. A thought flitted through her mind, out of place and an unexpected wonder — perhaps it was the daze she was in.

I wonder how they’ll avoid getting ejected into space...oh, right.

Zujenia’s eyes shifted to the control booth and back at her opponent as she recalled quickly the fact she was seconds from jettison. A tan finger twitched against the guard of her vibroblade tucked within her belt as she rolled with a groan onto her knees. She watched wearily as Raiju straightened up, his two cylindrical weapons in hand. The muscles of his brow raising slightly on one side as he took in her sitting on the ground. With a kick of his leg, the electrostaff at his feet skittered across the field, coming to rest at her knees. Zujenia shot him a look and he jabbed a blackened thumb behind him in response — either at the control booth, the crew, or the shock fences, she wasn’t quite sure.

“Half-breed, apparently they’re not yet entertained. Get up.”

It doesn’t matter which of us dies. The Nautolan thought to himself in reflection of the larger situation, knowing the lull in battle may sap some of his energy as his muscles burned to be used and thrown back into action. These deplorables could simply jettison the “winner” with the corpse and save some hassle.

Waiting for the girl to rise, Raiju Kang analyzed his options. The girl wasn’t his enemy, nor even his true opponent. He had the choice to look at her either as an opportunity or a hurdle. The easy path would be to just strike her down and handle whatever situation the ship’s crew provided - but he wouldn’t be getting an ally from that direction. Somehow, in the midst of combat, surrounded by enemies, and facing the cold vacuum of space; he had to get her to go along with his scheme.

“Hurry up girl!” The Nautolan bellowed. He felt a presence reverberate through his words amplifying their volume so they could be heard above. To the girl’s credit, she had already managed to get herself to her feet; yet, Raiju need to get the crowd on board as well. “I bet it was your Ryn father that taught you to slug through life.”

“It was my mother that was Ryn-” The girl’s protest was swift, yet the Nautolan was just as quick to cut her off.

“Ah ha! I’m imaging it now!” Raiju continued to bellow with an amplified voice, he hoped the volume was enough to drown out the girl's soft-spoken words. “Your dad must have had a preference for the velvety feel between her legs. How he could get pass the smell that must have been there is beyond me!”

The crude remark was met with a chorus of cheers from above. A small chant started from several of the most desperate looking individuals, yet Raiju had little care for what they actually said. The energy had picked up again, and that was what was important in this arena.

“See!” The Nautolan shouted with an accompanying laugh, raising his emerald blade to point at the chanting pack. A large smile crossed the alien’s face before he stuck out a tongue in mock protest. “They know what I am talking about!”

Waving his arms to beckon another chant, the Nautolan swiftly turned and gave the girl his full attention again. With the energy up, the girl on her feet, and the crowd being rowdy; now might be his only opportunity.

The familiar sound of energy sparking off the tips of their weapons echoed into the hangar once again. Having closed the distance between the two, Raiju had been swift in his strikes between both his blades - putting the half-Ryn on the defense again. The Nautolan had not been a natural with dual sabers, yet hours spent drilling on the subject under the past tutelage of Darth Aeternus had forced the Nautolan to accept the advantage dual wielding had to offer. Though his transition between using his off hand as a guard to a secondary attack left much to the imagination; the Nautolan managed to coordinate his efforts into a chain of attacks that kept the girl reeling. More importantly, it kept the pair close and the action covered the Jedi’s whispers.

“When I pull back, girl, I want you to drop towards the floor.” When the girl offered no more than a look of pure confusion, the Nautolan was quick to continue under the guise of their weapons lock - their weapons crackling in protest. “There is no guarantee that the survivor of this contest will live to see another day. You have the same choice I do, attempt to fight this contest to its unpromising conclusion or risk everything on a chance to both get out alive.”

Pulling back from the lock, Raiju was quick to leap away from the girl. While the Nautolan travelled in the direction away from the half-Ryn, his emerald lightsaber floated in the opposite direction. Sailing over the arena floor, there was a universal hush that fell over the crowd as the weapon pass over the girl - whom had dropped to the ground as hoped. Yet, where it had missed to cleave the Arconan in half, the blade had perfectly stuck the corner pillar behind that girl.

Slowly, as if time had stalled, part of the pillar toppled over. And with it; the electric fence came down.

Within a blink of an eye, the Nautolan had jumped backwards from the confused half-Ryn, his arm pulled behind him. White brows furrowed as Zujenia’s mind attempted to pedal through thoughts of whatever the alien had plan. She wasn’t given long to do so when a jolt of warning flashed through her nerves, dark amber eyes growing wide at Raju's arm snapping forward — the cylindrical hilt of the green saber sliding from his hold. Instinctively, the woman threw herself onto the force field, hissing through her clenched teeth as the action spurred her growing sores. The flung weapon whistled overhead until it collided into the pillar behind her. A large crack resounded through the stilled room, a boom as the electrical system within the large metal post exploded. The Arconan lifted her head in time to catch glimpse of the debris material plummeting to the ground and the yellow shock fence pulsing into nonexistence.

...Sithspit! Frak! Bantha dung!

A stream of curses berated her mind as Zujenia realized this action may have given them an early sentence. With two Force users free from restraints, would the voice within the booth press whatever button kept this blasted field below them running? Either way, Zujenia knew she needed to get off the open hangar doors and reach somewhere she could secure herself. She winced as she called upon what energy reserves she had, weaving the Force into her tendons while gathering herself onto her feet.

Just as she was about to push forward into a sprint, her gaze landed on the green humanoid. He had called his deactivated saber back into his hand, its state difficult to discern do to the charcoal smoke covering it’s chrome finish. What truly paused her was the wave of a hand before his eyes, the tense facial muscles, and shifty stance. If Zujenia hadn’t know any better, she would have concluded that the Nautolan was having difficulty seeing with the smoke and particles drifting into the arena.

Help him or get the hell to safety? A sigh escaped her as she weighed the fact he had taken down the barrier containing them greater in significance than the Eopie’s behind’s remarks about her heritage and family. Not like helping him would really stop us from being jettisoned.

Bunching her muscles, the half-Ryn dashed with enhanced speed to Raiju. The Jedi spun around, arm swinging out at the approaching footfalls. Using her momentum, Zujenia ducked under the punch, gloved hand snaking around his other forearm and spinning herself around, boots skidding to a halt.

“Hey, listen! We don’t have a choice now in helping each other out. Follow me.” The Arconan started for the edge of the Force field, only to be drawn short when the Nautolan didn’t budge. She bit her lip as weariness and dread built within her abdomen. “What?”

“You’re not leading me like a blind akk dog, mutt. Let’s go.”

Raiju pushed past her when her grip slipped from his wrist and despite the looming potential doom, Zujenia couldn’t help but mutter a couple harsh words of judgement under her breath with a annoyed flick of her tail before following. They were only a mere couple meters from the durasteel flooring of the hangar when the crackling of the speakers stopped them dead in their tracks.

“It looks as though our entertainment is undergoing a twist of style.” The heavily static voice rang out, the speaker’s warping removing all but a sliver of amusement from the tone. “Well, spectators? Who’s itching to join the fray?”

A sudden relief washed over the exhausted young woman. Space was on hold, for now. Zujenia tossed a look over to her opponent-turned-comrade. Raiju returned it with a curt nod before raising up the cylinders clenched in his fists and focusing ahead. Her mouth drew taut as she watched the horde above set to motion.

Hanging from ropes anchored to the catwalks, it was like watching spider hatchlings leave the comforts of the nest for the first time - unaware of the dangers below.

The Nautolan gave them no time, charging towards the first to descend - who was vulnerable even though he was at least three metres from the floor. From an outstretched hand Radula was cast towards the rope that hung the man; cleaving it and dropping the fool hard. The sound of meat hitting the hangar cut the scream short, at best he would be paralyzed. Yet, Raiju’s attack didn’t end there.

Radula soared back into its owner’s hand, while Mist was deactivated and clipped back upon Raiju’s belt. With his free hand outstretched; the Nautolan was hurled off the ground, as if he had hit a spring in it’s floor. With the rope free from the deplorable, Raiju took ownership and swung. Carried by the momentum of his leap, Raiju circled the hangar towards the other hanging ropes; clipping each within reach and casting their owners down.

One after another, bodies rained upon the metallic floor with an uncomfortable sounding as its material flexed under the weight of each deplorable. It wasn’t long before those above had taken the hint, and remained nested above the threat below - all of which now chanted for the combatants to be spaced. Below the Nautolan, it seemed the girl had done well to intercept any deplorable who had been out of his reach as several bodies still smoked from the burns of the girl’s electro-staff.

When the Nautolan came to rest his feet upon the hangar floor once more, each combatant eyed the control room nervously. They only had one chance.

“Hurry!” Raiju bellowed, pointing towards a piece of rope that had been cut from the catwalks. “Toss me that!”

While the woman was quick to gather up the cord, Raiju casted something from his free hand towards the control room. Whatever it was soared through the viewport of the control room and struck the Operator hard, throwing the man back from the control panel and knocking him from sight.

“Here!” Zujenia snapped, passing the Nautolan the bundle of rope. When Raiju snatched the gift from her hands, threw it under his shoulder, and then proceeded to launch himself on top of the control room; the girl continued with a tone of both confusion and fear in her voice. “What are you planning on doing with that?!”

“I don’t know!” Raiju shouted back with a shrug. Suddenly, both of his lightsabers were activated and burning into the roof of the control room. The spin was quick, but before the Nautolan dropped into the control panel he finally continued. “On the holo, they always seem to need it!”

The disc cut from the ceiling hammered straight to the floor, surprising the Nautolan. The room wasn’t large, and he figured he had knocked the Operator onto what little floor space there had been. Yet, a whimpering seemed to be coming from beneath a section of the panel. Curious, the Raiju bent to look at the source.

“You’ve done it now.” The Operator was quick to spit out when their eyes met. “We all are going to feel her wrath now.”

“You’re mistaken.” Raiju dismissed the warning, while he wrapped his waist with the rope and tied it off around the panel. Peering out through the viewport, Raiju could see the bewilderment in the half-breed's facen. “She’s still getting spaced, I just want the pleasure.”

Without hesitation, the Nautolan slapped the control panel. Immediately, the bodies that lined the hanger were swept from floor and plunged into the depths that had been behind the energy field. Zujenia was just as easily cast out to the starry background - and Raiju couldn’t help but feel her thoughts of betrayal and fear before she disappeared from view.

Struggling to reach the control panel due to the howling pull from the hole Raiju made, when he finally reach the button again and activated the field he was surprised to see the Operator had managed to hang on from his spot beneath the panel.

“See?” Raiju asked with a wide smile, “What can she do to us now?”

“Not her, you idiot.” The Operator was quick to snap, and the smile fell from Raiju’s face. When the man continued, the Nautolan felt a deep disturbance in his chest.

“Morgan.”

The scruffy looking pirates flowed down the stairs, a number hoisted themselves over the catwalk’s railing — jumping and rolling to their feet or sliding roughly down supports. The few remaining overhead grasped at their waists and drew their blasters. Zujenia watched as the mass on the ground drew clubs and vibroblades. As growl catching in her throat in response to the oncoming threat. She reached behind her to grab her electrostaff from her back, her fingers curling around...nothing. Twisting her head around, Zujenia caught the shine of the metal staff lying exactly where she had dropped to avoid the lightsaber.

*Frack! Alright, that leaves my slug— *

A beam of red light dashed inches from her cheek, her torso reflexively shifting just enough to avoid a fatal headshot. The half-Ryn’s balance unstabilized, she rolled to the side, pulling the Tusken Cycler from her back. Propping the butt against her shoulder and sliding the bolt back, she aimed hastily at one of the men above. The slug clipped his shoulder deeply, but continued on to ricochet off the far wall — the target tumbling over the rail.

Raiju coiled slightly turning to grumble at the hybrid. “You pulled a riffle? Girl, you’re dumber than I thought. That blade would be more helpful than that piece of scrap metal.”

Well, his eyesight has cleared up some. Zujenia tsked, noting the smoke and particles from the pillar had yet to reach this section. She watched as the Nautolan bursted forward with Force augmented speed, sabers alternating between slicing through unresistant weapons and beings.

“I wouldn’t kill the lot if I were you two, would have to clean out the hangar.” That same voice rang over the speakers, causing Raiju to come short of his swing. Blaster bolts rained from above, forcing Zujenia to dodge behind a nearby crate.

Breathing heavily, she called upon the Force weaving tendrils of Shadow and light around her. Nearly hidden from sight, the Shadow crept around the crate, eyes darting between Raiju, who had punched the floor beneath him and sent several of the pirates surrounding him flying, to a ladder. Zujenia maneuvered as quickly as she could without disrupting her concentration around the crowd and up the ladder.

The shift of her added weight to the platform alerted the Human gunner next to her, he spun around bewildered by a seemingly empty area. His eyes had just honed in on the shifting outline when Zujenia drove forward — the Force shedding from her form. The bayonet attached to her slugthrower sliced through the surface of his thigh and a reverse arc with the butt end bashed into the doubled-over man’s head.

Stepping quickly over the unconscious foe, the Arconan dodged the new found onslaught of red bolts, using very short bursts of amplification to aid her aching muscles to do so. Utilizing both ends of her weapon as both a blunt and bladed one, she swiftly incapacitated three more. As she spun around to knock out the last gunsman, a massive burning pain exploded against her side. Zujenia hissed sharply through her teeth as her hand pressed against the blaster wound and her muscles clenched in recoil.

Catching herself against the rails, the half-Ryn watched through as the scum before her aimed his bladder pistol to finish her off. Zujenia closed her eyes, residing in her thoughts as she desperately attempted to make peace with the fate she could now not avoid.

A sharp yelp caused golden orbs to flash open and onto the gunner now clasping his hand, blood pouring through his clenched fingers. With labored breathing, she turned to see the Nautolan holstering his sidearm. Masses of groaning and painfully slumbering individuals laid by his feet, some with broken or missing limbs. A loud crackling pierced the air as the sound speaker came to life, a loud clapping driving the Jedi’s attention to the control room.

“Well done, a burning performance. You may leave now. Woman, your opponent carried you, better performance next time. For now, one of the men will aid you to a shuttle. Heal well, looking forward to the next match.”

Zujenia’s gut clenched at the words and strong arms threw her unceremoniously onto thick shoulders, carrying her towards an exit at the end of the catwalk. Before disappearing through the blast doors, she caught the gaze of the Jedi for a moment and watched him turn, leaving through an exit himself.