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 crowd roared from the overhead balconies, the unrestrained bellowing of their voices echoing throughout the pit in anticipation of the battle to come. Debris lay strewn about the makeshift arena, mementos of matches gone by littering the scorched ground. The metallic stench of freshly spilled blood lingered in the air, wafting through the audience and driving them further into their frenzied bloodlust.

This was a place of strength, a center of power where those who felt the siren call of combat could test their might to the thunderous applause of hundreds, if not thousands. Here, weakness was burned away in the fiery forges of conflict, bringing fortune and glory to those with the skill and determination to succeed.

It was here, in the center of this shrine to power, that a lone woman stood waiting. Skin as pale as moonlight adorned the soft edges of her face, with wild hair as black as the void between the stars dangling down around her features. She wore a wicked, eager grin on her face and her piercing silver eyes bespoke of a deep hunger. She stood clad in her dread black armor, still splattered by the viscera of her previous foes. She paced back and forth like a hungry beast, eyes never averting from the turbolift that would soon bring her a new morsel.

She did not have to wait long, the grinding of the turbolift was audible even over the chanting of the seas of people above. As the shaft descended, Scarlett had to chuckle to herself.

You'd think they'd learn by now.

As the doors opened the young Echani was greeted by the sight of a large Nautolan man. His green skin reflecting the overhanging lights, his unblinking obsidian eyes boring directly into her. His figure was obscured by the bulky armor he wore, blotted in dark colors that faded into the shadows. His expression remained stoic as he stepped towards her.

Raiju had been strong armed into this, the price to be paid yet again for one of his many debts. A powerful crime boss, to whom he owed more credits than he cared to admit, had given him a choice: fight in the Matron's Pit and pay back his debt with the winnings and bets or be hunted for the rest of his life. He decided to oblige the request.

As the two combatants sized each other up, a voice came crackling in over the ramshackle intercom system overhead.

"Alright, pit scum! The rules on this one are clear: no weapons, fists only. Break my rules, and your winnings are forfeit. Now let's get to the action!"

They looked at each other and smiled.

This should be easy they thought.

A chorus of laughter filled the hanger following the announcement. It rattled off the broken and discarded machinery that littered the environment before turning into a roar of unintelligence ramble. Catcalls aimed at the woman came from a group of Twi’leks hanging out of the control room viewports, while on the catwalks above, a trio of Trandoshans hung over the rails to snarl and curse the Nautolan. The crowd of scum and villainy became frenzied as they disputed the obvious choice in the battle; would brute force of the large Nautolan overcome the skill they had witnessed in the woman?

For several long, drawn out moments, the Nautolan held his gaze upon the woman. He needed to buy time for those that still needed to place their bets. Finally he scoffed and turned his gaze upon the crowd and gave them a toothy grin. A rally of support was quickly consumed by a wave of taunts directed at Raiju, but that didn’t seem to bother him as he waved and gestured towards individuals that caught his eye.

“Are you quite done?” The shrillness of the woman’s voice cut through the chorus, yet the Nautolan failed to turn back to her. Instead, he grinned at a sour looking figure completely shroud in black; motioning at him with a thumbs up like he was trying to cheer up the man.

“Darling, there’s no need to get jealous that I’m not trying to woo you.” Finally Raiju turned back to face the woman, still carrying a stupid grin. “After I’m done spanking you here, I’d be happy to let you have a turn at the helm. We could even get you an outfit that says ‘My Master Is A Green Freak’.”

“That’s not funny.” The tone of the woman had quickly soured while the Nautolan bellowed at his own comment. “Slavery is not something that should be joked about.”

“Relax, you might have a chip on your shoulder but slavery is part of life. Part of my clan’s imperial ways.”

Without warning the gloved right fist of the woman leapt from its place by her side towards the jawline of the Nautolan. As if he had been expecting the attack, Raiju quickly tucked his head towards his shoulder and brought his left arm up to hug the side of his face, absorbing the strike. Yet, a howl of frustration from the woman announced more incoming attacks as she now swung in combination - first left, then right. Raiju was quick to bring his right arm up but the woman’s tiny fist still found its way to smash the Nautolan’s ear. This left him slightly dazed for her right that drilled him in his abs - sending him recoiling away from the woman and trying to get some distance. Blow for blow, the fight continued with the woman on offense while Raiju turtled in defense.

Raiju’s technique, if you could call it that, was awful. Not once over the years had he ever considered taking martial arts, priding himself as a barroom brawler. Scarlett clearly had the form of someone with years of dedicated training. Recognizing this, Raiju knew he had to play for an opening...and that meant getting his butt handed to him until then.

Scarlett smashed a flurry of fists into the Nautolan. His saving grace was the armour he wore, softening many of the blows. Recoiling kept the worst of it from overwhelming him. Finally, the woman seemed to abandon her form for passion and raised her hands together over her head. Raiju’s right arm dropped to his side and he imagined an extension on his fist as he waved it towards the woman’s gut. An groan first escaped the woman as she absorbed the attack, then it forced her off balanced and onto her back gasping for air.

A eerie silence quickly took over the crowd as they processed what had happened. In that time, Raiju had regained his composure and stood above the woman with a toothy grin, while a rambling grew in the audience. The concern of the crowd grew into shouts that the Force usage was unfair. Immediately, a look of disgust covered the Nautolan’s face as he looked around the hangar with outstretched arms.

“What?!” Raiju started, glaring at the control room. “Is this not what you came for?!”

Suddenly the large man felt … dread. An existential terror overwhelming his very being, infusing his soul with it's twisted taint. Visions of darkness, past pains and failures flashed through his mind one by one as the waves of terror and panic crashed against the shores of his mind.

No, this … what is...

A roar of anger erupted from the shaken man, his unblinking eyes coming to look upon the intense glare of the woman.

“You … get out of my head!”

A roar of laughter erupted from the intercom system that silenced the agitated rumblings of the crowd.

“Alright you slag heaps, you wanna play it that way? Fine. I'll be keeping your earnings for myself, but you still better put on a hell of a show for us. If you don't, I'm gonna void you both into space. Now let's have some blood! No restraints, no rules!”

About time the large Nautolan thought to himself.

Grasping his lightsaber firmly, he lept towards the Echani woman. As he closed the distance between them Scarlett grasped for her own saber, the crackling of her chaotic red blade echoing through the suddenly still and silent atmosphere.

They lunged at once, blade locking with blade, a whirlwind of mighty blows and deft dodges. The woman's rage mounted as the fight progresses and she felt herself once again losing herself in her mindless emotions.

She screamed and lunged. One attack after the other after the other. Primal fury and a passion deep and longing. The need to destroy, to incinerate her foe and leave nothing left of him. To rip and tear until the job was done.

Raiju faltered, the hurricane of attacks going faster and harder than he could keep up with. He was pushed back, forced into a defensive position to prevent her all out rage induced lunacy from ripping him to shreds.

He focused the Force within him and unleashed another blow, pushing her back with the power of his push. And she charged back. Again and again, undeterred from the damage she had received.

But as the woman seemed to slow down, the Nautolan saw his chance. In a quick and deft maneuver he brought his blade slashing down her exposed torso, melting away her armor into slag and searing her flesh in agony.

As he stood over her, prepared to land his killing blow, he looked upwards at the man from earlier. His head shook and the meaning was clear: leave this one alive.

As he stepped away from the scarred woman and towards the baying of the crowd, he heard her voice whisper out:

“Y-you think this is over? Not even c-close. I'll gut you like a fish and hang your corpse above these rafters. You're a dead man walking.”

Raiju smiled his toothy grin, and with one more nod to the shady man in the crowd, ascended the turbolift.

The words had barely left the Nautolan’s mouth before the audience turned on him. The heckling had switched to cursing. From above, a Trandoshan spat at the Nautolan, which hit its mark on the side of Raiju’s face. However, this all quickly turned into applause as Raiju felt pressure on his throat. He writhed in place as he struggled against the sudden chokehold he found himself in.

The woman had used the crowd as a distraction to get the jump on him. Instinct buried Raiju's thoughts as he clawed at her arm and failed to find a grip. In addition, he now felt the woman’s legs fix themselves around his waist and felt her body stretch; putting more pressure on his windpipe.

I’m going to snap this kriffing woman’s neck! The Nautolan thought to himself, Totally gonna yell something catchy when I do it, too…

Despite the Nautolan’s thoughts, he knew he didn’t have time to waste with revenge fantasies. The woman shifted her weight like she was trying to roll Raiju on his side, likely to pin one of his arms. Yet, the Nautolan struggled to maintain his spot on top of the woman and cautiously stretched his right arm over his shoulder, feeling for the woman’s face. As his hand came close; Raiju felt the woman shift her weight at the last minute and he had to stop to adjust. Finally, as if she had given up shifting and just focused on keeping his windpipe close, the woman stopped and that allowed the Nautolan to pinpoint her location.

He snapped his wrist backwards and activated the bracer strapped to his arm. A slender blade immediately appeared and then quickly vanished as the Nautolan drove it deep into Scarlett’s eye. Wrenching the blade out, Raiju noticed the blood now painting his hand. More importantly, the arm around his neck loosened and he wormed his head out of her grapple.

Rolling off the woman’s body, the Nautolan inched away from the corpse. A hacking cough cleared his airways and a deep gasp echoed from Raiju as he crawledl.

It was the shadow that fell over him that finally brought the Nautolan back to reality. Looking up from his place on the floor, Raiju noticed most of the pirates from the control room had emptied it and now surrounded him. Yet, for the moment, they held off their vigilante justice and waited upon a small Ithorian to speak through the protocol droid accompanying him..

“You clearly knew the rules of the match, Raiju. No Weapons, fists only.”

“Aye and I also knew the penalty; my winnings would be forfeit. Good thing for me, my winnings were already forfeit.” Raiju replied with a grin, taking the time to rise from the floor as well. “Rules didn’t apply to me.”

“The rules most certainly applied to you, as your winnings alone do not cover your debt and your disqualification doesn’t get me anything.”

“No, but it did get all your bookies paid for you - which you get a percentage of.” Raiju then proceeded to point at the sour looking man in black, whom now stood at the edge of the crowd. “And it did pay him, betting on a D.Q., who’s willing to buy out my debt to you.”

“And why would he want that?” This time after the protocol droid finished, it was the sour looking man that spoke; stepping forward though refusing to pull down his hood. While Raiju imagined few among them would recognize the Voice of the Brotherhood, the authority in the man’s tone even put him on edge.

“Because the Nautolan can be useful to me,” the man was firm with his statement, especially as he continued from over his shoulder as he walked away. “But this is a limited opportunity for you to make back your credits from him. I won’t be negotiating for a creature that could be easily replaced by either of us.”

“‘Fine-”

“Your payment is with your bookie.” The Voice cut off the protocol droid with a shout. At no point did the man pause for the Nautolan to catch up, forcing the still panting Raiju to awkwardly ramble a sarcastic goodbye to the Ithorian before he took off running. When he had caught up, as the Voice entered the turbolift, doubt finally set in on Raiju.

What have I got myself into now. He thought to himself as the doors closed on the pair.