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.

As a pilot, Andrelious was already familiar with the vacuum of space. He was not, however, particularly enjoying the idea of leaving the hangar without a ship.

The Warlord regarded the second person in the hangar, guessing that she was supposed to be his opponent. The female was taller than Andrelious, and the Sith supposed she was also at least a dozen years younger from the lack of age lines on her face. He also noticed her pointed ears.

“You going to keep eyeing me up, or are we going to fight? I don’t think your lady wife would appreciate you looking at me,” the woman stated, having spotted Andrelious’ wedding ring.

“Lady!” Andrelious scoffed. “You wouldn’t say that about her if you knew her.”

“Classy, aren’t you? I can see what she likes about you!” the female sneered.

The Sith scowled. “This coming from you? I thought you Sephi were supposed to be all high society and fancy gowns. You look more like you’re used to cantina brawls!”

“Not much chance for all that. I’m only half Sephi, anyway,” the woman answered, secretly pleased at Andrelious’ mistake.

“Semantics. Pointy ears, Sephi, half Sephi. Probably won’t save you when Pravus comes knocking. That is, if you are with the Brotherhood? What clan?” Andrelious queried.

“My, my, quite the conversationalist, aren’t you? Just call me Alara! For what it matters I’m with Scholae. Going to tell me who you are?” the Sephi countered.

“Andrelious Mimosa-Inahj. I’m the Aedile of House Dinaari. Just survived the massacre of Karufr. I actually came here to deal with the Herald. Seems I’ve walked into a trap instead,” the Warlord said.

“Get on with it, you two!” a third voice interjected. Both Andrelious and Alara recognised it as the same voice that had commanded that they fight.

“It’s about time we did what they said. I’m not going to throw my life away!” Alara hissed.

“It would not be wise to challenge me. If I can deal with members of the Iron Legion and Inquisitors, I hardly think a slip of a girl like you is going to be any problem for me,” Andrelious warned, reaching for his silver hilted lightsaber.

As the Warlord’s weapon activated, he looked up to see Alara charging towards him, lightsaber active. The female was approaching with such speed that Andrelious had no time to do anything other than to prepare himself for what he expected to be a fast, but weak attack. Instead, when the blow came, it was enough power behind it that the Sith was forced to take a step back to regain his balance.

Frak. Fast, strong, and angry. Why do I always meet the most dangerous women? Andrelious thought to himself as he parried away a very determined attack from his new opponent.

Alara’s attacks continued to be precise and punchy, almost overwhelming a man who had been duelling almost as long as she had been alive.

“Still think I’m just a slip of a girl?” Alara snarled.