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 traveled 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.

With the final fade of the ominous voice on the air, the two combatants found themselves facing off in opposite corners of the illuminated arena. No shadows to hide, nowhere beyond the shocking walls of their entrapment. Like two caged beasts, their only recourse was to strike hard, strike fast, and destroy their opponent for the entertainment of their keepers. It was the only way out of this situation without explosively decompressing and flying out into space.

One, clad in the ebon battle armour of the Inquisition, stood steadfast as she stared down the bulkier frame of the man before her. Her hands went immediately to the two ornate lightsaber hilts that she carried upon her hilt - but refused to ignite them just yet. This was not an ideal situation for her; no shadows to skulk in, no range to apply her rifle; merely a front-on fight.

The other, dressed in the ancient robes of the first master of the Star Chamber, also drew his lightsabers without hesitation. The power of Okemi was inspiration to every Sith in the Brotherhood worth their salt and Mateus direly wanted to draw upon it. Both his sabers snapped unhesitatingly to life, their mismatched purple and crackling orange brightening the space between them.

"Tell me who you are, little girl," taunted the Mandalorian as his eyes shone with the thrill of prey before him.

"I am Shadow, of Scholae Palatinae, proud leader of Tacitus Athanasius. And you are?" she asked pointedly, a scowl crossing her lips. She didn't like this one bit, no. He seemed... deranged. Power-mad. Perhaps just a vicious little puppet.

"I never understood the Scholae love for long and difficult to spell words," taunted the man. "I am Mateus Kelborn. Proud Mandalorian of the First House of the First Clan of the Brotherhood." Every word was a slow, menacing step towards his enemy. This was his element. He seemed comfortable. Ready. Shadow didn't like that one bit, either.

Prideful words became an enraged howl. "And you serve the lapdog of the Grand Master, your false Emperor. Your death will bring another trophy head for my Master. Skulls, for the Serpentine Throne!"

The predatory gait became a full-out sprint as Mateus raised both of his lightsabers to his en garde stance, the tips of both blades pointed towards the throat of his enemy as if it tear it out. In pure instinct, Shadow ignited both of her weapons, the dazzling white and two-tone red plasma blades flashing brightly to life. As her hands came up, she found that the Battlelord was already upon her, viciously pressing against her guard as he lashed out with both of his weapons. She held, then pushed back for just a moment, enough to step back and begin circling around him. They both seemed to favour similar styles, dual-wielding lightsabers - this was going to be a fast, furious and most of all intense duel, something that she had not quite seen the likes of before.

Neither of them wasted time in lending credence to their offensive methods of fighting, their blades meeting in a whirling tempest of strikes in front of each other. Both had initial noticeable differences in their style - while Shadow unloaded strike after strike, alternating her hands in a fusillade of offensive cuts, Mateus parried each one with a rhythmic precision of his own attacks, unrelenting in their simultaneous fury. He seemed to be attacking her blades, for now, striking with the pure strength of his arm to force her blades wide. Those attacks granted her the momentum to swing again, true, but she wouldn't last forever. Their skills, in this opening moment, seemed to be equally matched.

"Not bad, little lapdog," he snarled, a cruel chuckle rising to his lips. "You may be worthy prey after all!"

"Will you just shut up?!" she retorted. Clearly, unimpressed.

Another laugh, full-bellied and tinged of malice. "Come, child!" he taunted simply.

Mateus advanced quickly, thrusting his off-hand purple blade forward to skewer her through the chest. A lithe little side-step and she came at him anew, slashing horizontally into a spin, twisting both of her blades through a slew of vicious arcs as she cleaved the air between them. Forced to step back, the Shadesworn could only laugh again as he came in on the offensive. Yes. He would not back down from this challenge. This would be a duel for the ages.

Shadow didn't know if it was his cockiness or trying to avoid being sucked out into space that drove her to fight, but she gave it all she had. The Mandalorian reminded her too much about her sister, and the thought of that made her blood boil. This arrogant fool was opening his mouth a bit too much, and she wanted to silence him. However, even she had to admit that her opponent was giving her quite a fight, and she was more than willing to put herself to the test against him.

The half-Sephi blocked and parried as the Mandalorian quickly landed blow after blow in a brilliant display of light and skill. She could feel his strength behind each quick and heavy blow, and knew that she couldn’t let him break through a single defense. The assassin caught another one of his blows with her blades crossed and pushed him off before leaping back to avoid his counter. Where strength and force seemed to be his focus, she would make force and flexibility hers.

“Not bad, for an Arconian,” she remarked sarcastically as the Battlelord tried to sneak in a thrust for her chest once again. “I’d love fighting with you any day to keep my skills up, but sadly I can’t have that pleasure.”

Mateus scowled, and was about to say something when Shadow caught his blow again with her sabers and kicked him back. “Your defeat will make sure of that!”

Shadow quickly launched a flurry of blows, twisting and turning in a dance of red and white as she struck with storm-like fury. She could hear the pirate scum banging on the windows overlooking the dreadful hanger out of anticipation and excitement. The idea of being entertainment for the whelps only strengthened her resolve and quickened her attacks. She wanted to put an end to this; and as soon as possible without making a fatal mistake.

The Battlemaster felt one of her strikes bounce off of Mateus’ saber, and hastily leapt back as the taller man sought to take advantage and land a blow with a thrust towards her chest. She struck down hard on it with both her blades in hopes of disarming him, and swiftly managing to parry his other blade that was aimed for her neck. Both began exchanging blows, creating a show of flashing plasma and sparks.

Mateus’ eyes locked with Shadow, and she felt an icy-fire of hate threaten to rise within her. Only reason and caution kept it at bay, as did the thought of being sucked out into oblivion by just the push of a button. Her determination to live was matched by the arcs and clashes of her blades against his. She wouldn’t let this Arconian get the better of her.

Their imminent destruction loomed as the pirates began to scream louder. The pace of the duel before them was intense, with blades swinging in vicious arcs and savage straight-line cuts, trying to find purchase through one another's guards, but to no avail. The laughter of the maniacal Sith man could only be heard as he gave himself wholesale to the slaughter before him, Shadow keeping her cool as she fought him, matching his raw ferocity with her technical prowess. Perhaps the two disparate fighting styles on display would keep them alive.

"By the way? It's Arconan, you bleeding milksop!" shouted the Battlelord as he pressed his lightsabers forward, driving all of his might behind his next blow. "Arcona invicta!"

Shadow couldn't believe her ears. Blind loyalty to one's Clan was certainly prevalent across the Brotherhood, but this was another level of insanity. All the Mandalorian could do was lust for bloodshed and tout the taglines of the First Clan. What kind of simpleton was he? Such a waste of actual potential, as far as she was concerned. No matter. Kill him, put on a good show whilst doing so and her life was guaranteed, as was her freedom. Those were two things that the battleteam leader was concerned.

However, the blow that the human delivered was powerful, overbearing, brought to life by the Force in its entirety. Her arms were beginning to give as he pressed both of his lightsabers down against hers, watching her knees buckle. Every ounce of Force-given strength that Mateus could muster was pressed into her guard, trying direly to drive her into the ground. All he needed was that one moment, the exact instant she decided to break. Just enough to distract her. When he found that mark, that exact second that she grunted, panted with exertion and Shadow's trembling arms began to gave way, the Shadesworn reared back to deliver the coup de grace.

Out of pure reflex, Shadow lashed out. Her death, terrifying as that thought was, could be avoided. If the Scholae warrior was not willing to accept her own death, perhaps her greatest skill to manipulate weaker minds could save her life - and bring his own fears to the forefront. She delved straight into the mysteries of his mind, trying to find what was there as his lightsabers loomed above her like twin suns. Her hand shot out, as if to stop him with little more than a gesture while she reached into his psyche.

There it was. A great beast loomed. A mighty dragon of the darkness, a beast so large and terrifying that it threatened to consume whole worlds. The mighty kell dragon roared, a piercing cry that echoed inside the mind of the red-dressed Sith warrior. His eyes shot open, a curious question as to how he was seeing and hearing the voice of the fell beast his Clan was named for - and the beast that could have slain everything he knew and loved. Why was he thinking of this now? No matter the reason, it gave him pause. Pause enough that his two blades stopped cutting.

In that instant, the Battlemaster lashed her crimson lightsaber out, slicing across his thigh. Bloodcurdling roars turned to a psychotic howl of pain as the blade sliced into his skin, the cut barely more than superficial. It was enough to stun Mateus and send him careening to the floor, his purple lightsaber flying out of his left hand and clattering to the floor. From where he was, supine and enraged, he allowed the fury to flow through him and gave it form made manifest, arcs of lightning erupting from his fingertips as he unleashed was was little more than bottled anger. The stream suddenly caught Shadow off-guard, not expecting a berserker to unleash a Force power of that nature. The half-Sephi's own screams filled the air this time as she struggled to hold on, gasping for air as her skin began to burn from the sheer ferocity unleashed upon her.

For a second, they both lay still, barely able to maintain their control. Both injured, both trying to keep themselves from death. As Mateus brought the Force to wash over himself, he came to his feet, his opponent following suit a second later. The cheers grew louder. The display of power was enough to make the crowd want more.

The only way this would likely end was one of their deaths.

As much as Shadow was tempted to take pleasure in the crescendo of cheers, she had come to the same conclusion as Mateus, and knew that there was no time for glory. The Palatinean, tired as she was becoming, launched herself as fast as she could to try and offset her opponent. She lashed out with her white blade, watching the sparks fly as it collided with Mateus’ orange blade. She attempted to strike for his gut with her free saber, Mateus’ summoned his fallen saber back to his hand just in time to protect himself. Hues of white, orange, and purple lit up their faces as their eyes locked again. The Arconan sneered at her, and roared with rage as he pushed his blades hard against hers and tried to land a blow for her head. Shadow quickly ducked before trying to stab his gut while defending her head from an incoming blow. Her attack was halted unfortunately, and she found herself suddenly leaping back from the Mandalorian before he could knock her down.

“You impudent pest! I will squish you, you Sith-wanna-be!” Mateus shouted as he took his turn in launching an attack against her.

“Save your breath for your last words!” Shadow countered as she quickly defended herself, though her tiring arms barely kept his blades at bay. “Buffoons like you are the scourge of the Sith!”

Mateus screamed out of anger and hatred as he struck his lightsabers harder against the Battlemaster’s again, trying to break past her defenses. He tried to sneak in a stab for her gut, only to suddenly howl in pain as Shadow launched a desperate kick at his injured thigh. This only infuriated him, and he pummeled the woman’s face with the hilt of one of his blades. She yelped in pain as blood dropped down from the gash in her cheek.

“So much for a Sephi with a pretty face,” the Battlelord taunted as he smirked.

“So much for a Mandalorian getting his ass whipped by a woman,” the woman sneered back as her golden eyes flashed with anger.

Again, Mateus struck out in hatred for Shadow’s insults. The Sith woman dove out of the way and rolled back to her feet before unleashing a hurricane of plasma towards the man’s back. His resolve was just as strong as hers as he managed to barely protect himself as he whirled and caught the battle team leader’s lightsabers with his. He then threw all his weight against her, trying to force her weapons away from him enough to ram his shoulder into her. A sudden spark in Shadow’s eyes revealed she was ready as she slipped away from him on time. The Mandalorian managed to keep himself from falling forward, but that didn’t save him from Shadow slashing his back. Adrenaline fueled his rage, and before Shadow could react, he whirled around and awkwardly jumped-kicked the Sith woman in the chest; sending her careening to the floor.

Shadow forced herself to try and get up, but only found herself pushed back down by Mateus boot on her chest. She looked up at him, refusing to show fear as he grinned in victory. No way was she going to allow him to win. Not now. Not ever. The little life-form just barely a few weeks in her womb was depending on her. The shouts and jeers of the spectators above only motivated her to set things straight. It would be Mateus dying today.

With her sabers having flown from her grasp only a few feet away, Shadow summoned them quickly back with the Force to block the fatal blow. The tip of his orange blade was only inches from her forehead, but she refused to flinch, and uncrossed her blades just as she moved her head on time before the blade could pierce her. She then slashed at his purple saber, and enshrouded him in a shell of darkness to blind him. Seeing her chance, the Battlemaster brought the hilt of her saber to his knee as hard as she could, forcing him to lose his balance and allow her to roll away from him.

“You crafty bitch!” Mateus spat as his vision slowly began to clear. “I’ll end you!”

Shadow chuckled as she got back up on her feet. “Then let’s tango , Mando boy.”

Breathe. Breathe.

The pounding of Mateus' heart against his chest was a palpable noise, threatening to break free as he snarled once more. However, there wasn't time to breathe. There was only one recourse left for him, trapped like a beast in a cage:tear her apart. Either kill her now, or be vented into vacuum and die while his body decompressed. Everything in his body cried out for only one thing: the blood of the little girl in front of him. Kill this woman. Rend her flesh! Reap her skull! Blood, in the Clan's name!

"What's wrong, Mando boy?" the woman chided again, taunting from the shadows as the sphere of midnight began to dissipate. "Afraid of the dark?"

"Not as much as you will be when I'm done with you," came the growl in response.

With his blades held in front of him once more, Mateus charged forward as the woman began to take form ahead of him while the last of her arcane defences faded. Every cut he initiated was bolstered by his rage, bubbling away as she blocked every last one - until he decided to give it true, physical form. His anger caved in the last of the Mandalorian's psyche, driving him into a true furor as the Palatinaean before him realised the error that she'd made. She'd made him angry. Very, very angry. It was no feat to feel the ripple in the Force that the overwhelming darkness that was his rage was creating.

Now, powered by his unbridled fury, Mateus was beginning to push her back. Every slash came faster. Every block she made came at greater cost to her arms. More and more she found herself on the defensive, on the back foot. No matter what she did, he was going to physically overpower her in moments if something drastic didn't happen.

Well, all she could do was try. Where they were equal in some fields, Shadow could already tell that she had the advantage in others.

A lithe little foot lashed out to catch the back of his right knee and pull forward, disrupting his balance for a single moment. She just needed that lapse in his concentration to pull her sabers up and try and behead him with a single scissoring motion while her hated foe stumbled forward slightly.

The Force seemed to be with the Battlelord in that moment, as it screamed at him that he would die, horrifically, if something wasn't done now. Move, or die. As she slashed, he let his spine bend, ducking under the two crossing blades. Mateus could have sworn that the heat of the saber blades tingled his skin as they passed over him. In response he did something rather rash - he threw the lightsaber in his left hand at her, shuffling backwards to do so. Not being a telekinetic expert, he didn't intend for it to be a move where he could throw an active lightsaber. He just had to distract her.

The arc of the man's hand caught her eye and by sheer instinct she began to move away. When only the cold steel of a lightsaber hilt came flying towards her, the Battlemaster pulled herself up short and realised that what was before her now was a man with his hand lowered towards her feet - and a second later a rocket loosed towards the floor just to her side. The blast wave of the rocket detonating against the durasteel deckplates threw the Sith woman to the side, her body careening through the air. In the next instant, Mateus was upon her, pouncing like a predator as she tried to gather her senses - no, he would not allow such a thing to happen.

Rip her flesh. The first saber thrust pierced across her thigh.

Tear her bones. With his newly-freed hand, he reached down to grab her ankle and twist, shattering it with all the strength that he could muster.

Reap her skull! The crackling orange lightsaber blade slashed its way through her neck as she screamed in abject pain, ending her life then and there. Were he to know she was pregnant... the Mandalorian might have fought harder to end her suffering even quicker.

A bestial roar erupted from the blood-hungry man, raising the severed head of his fallen enemy as tribute to the Shadow Lady, to his audience, to his utter conquest. The pain would subside later. Mateus cared not. Glory was his, rightly earned. As it should be.

Shadow’s challenge was met by Mateus’ battle cry as the Arconan charged and swung with all his might. Shadow’s strong-hand blade caught his blow while she countered his other saber with her off-hand weapon quickly countered against his other oncoming blade. A sense of warning overcame her, causing her to look at his wrist as she saw it begin to glow. She pulled back and leapt over him in the nick of time as a concussion rocket flew from the Mandalorian’s wrist weapon. The Sith woman flipped and twisted, landing on her feet while trying to send both blades slashing into his back. He saved himself with an over-shoulder reach of his sabers, and pushed up against her blades to allow him time to spin around and face her. His eyes blazed with an enraged fire that seemed to engulf his very soul. Shadow knew she’d have to diminish that flame before it could destroy her.

The pain from Mateus’ injuries seemed to have disappeared, allowing the Battlelord to focus on the Palatinean more. It was the opposite for Shadow, as her burnt flesh seared her with pain every time she twisted or swung. The Battlemaster knew that her opponent was aware of this, and it seemed that she was at a disadvantage. Truth be told, Shadow’s strength was slowly beginning to wane, but her spirit was still strong as was her wit. Trying to trick him was becoming harder, but she still had a few ideas.

She quickly unleashed another whirlwind attack, her muscles and flesh screaming with pain and protest as she landed multiple strikes against Kelborn’s sabers. Flashes, color, and sparks lit up the arena. The piratical audience howled with excitement as Mateus finally halted her attack by catching the half-Sephi’s weapons with his blades. He sneered as he gazed into her eyes, but that sneer quickly went away as something dark pulsed within those golden orbs.

Shadow kept her eyes locked with his as she reached into his mind, dark tendrils of the dark side reaching into his mind. She saw the beast from earlier again, and re-awoken the memory of the draconic terror. The Palatinean knew Mateus wouldn’t be so foolish to fall for it, but that slight pause gave her enough time to summon her hidden dagger from her boot to her hand as she willingly let go of one of her blades. Her arm already moving swiftly and out of instinct, she sent her dagger upwards into his armpit.

Mateus screamed, and out of rage, he kicked her away before removing the blade from his wound. Shadow called forth her abandoned lightsaber, only for the woman to be sent flying further back as the blast of another concussion rocket struck by her feet. Blood began to flow from her nose while new burns and cuts littered her face, arms, and legs. The disorientated Sith looked over at the Mandalorian as she watched him pick up her saber. He looked at her before turning around and throwing it, the hilt making impact with the thick glass of the overlooking window where it stuck.

Not…not like this.

Kelborn returned his attention to her as the onlookers became silent. He approached her, each of his steps becoming louder as the ringing in Shadow’s head began to subside. When the Arconan reached her, it seemed like a giant was towering over her. Her hatred for him grew even more as she weakly defended herself with her one remaining saber as he struck. The motherly instinct to try and save her child, of whom she prayed was unharmed, kept her going. Yet, it wasn’t good enough, and before she knew it, Mateus sent his blades plunging into her chest. A look of pain appeared on her face as she gasped. With her last breath, she let a scream of immense sorrow escape her lips as a tear slid down her bloodied cheek. Soon after, only the sound of an extinguishing blade filled the arena followed by a roar of victory from the surviving Sith Battlelord.

“So, it seems we have a champion,” declared the static voice of the announcer. “A good show. A grand show indeed!”