Colloquially known as Outland Station, Outland Transit Station was a large outpost situated above a barren planetoid within the Outer Rim Territories.

The station itself is divided into districts attracting anyone from traders and mercenaries. It's key attraction, however, is the Fight Pit.

Legends say the bounty hunter Jango Fett once fought a borhek in this very arena. One might question how, given these arenas were used for bets on beasts fighting to maim and destroy each other from all over the galaxy.

The arena itself is circular in shape, large, especially for humanoids, and surrounded completely by an electrical fence that deliverers painful shocks to any who are unfortunate enough to touch it. The floor is flat and even, a blank slate for those competing.

Today, you are the main event for the evening. The crowd has gathered, bets have been made, and they cheer and jeer to see you win, or lose, depending on where their credits lay.

Will you be able to overcome your foe in whatever form it may be? Or will you crumble like so many before you? The crowd at least hopes it will be entertaining.

Whilst he listened to the combination of cheers and jeers from the crowd as he awaited the arrival of his — currently unknown — opponent, Celevon Werd’a absentmindedly checked the systems on both of his vambraces as he thought back to what led to this situation.

The Shaevalian-Umbaran had been assigned the assassination of a Prime Minister in a neighboring system by the Empress of the Vatali, the rightful ruler of the Kiast System, in which Odan-Urr called their home. He also had known how easily he could be caught out, and had thus decided to cloud any investigation that occurred with video evidence. So, he had scheduled a highly visual spectacle: to fight in the Pit, which were viewable on the holonet, just hours after he committed the assassination.

Celevon also knew that, if it got out, someone would be sent to retrieve him. Thus, after winning his original match, the Corellian native had spoken with those who ran and recorded the fights in the Pit that he could guarantee them even more profit with a fight they’d never forget. They had agreed, promising ten percent of what the house earned, even if the Shaevalian-Umbaran could not exactly tell them when it would occur.

As a result, he had been staying in temporary quarters here aboard the station, all the while awaiting the opponent he had promised.

Truthfully, the most difficult part had not been waiting. It had been convincing HK-72 to remain outside of the arena and not interfere in the fight itself.

The Shaevalian-Umbaran felt the approach of a familiar presence very nearby and a small smirk curved his lips. And she was very annoyed. ‘Looks like my promise of a fight to remember is being kept.’

Then, the announcement roared across the arena.

“Ladies and gentlemen, sentients of all ages, welcome to our MAIN EVENT OF THE EVENING!” It took a few moments for the roars of approval to fade enough for the announcer to continue. “Our returning Champion from last week’s fights has returned, the Blood Raven. The Challenger he promised has arrived and her name is...”

There was a distinct, lengthy pause in which the Corellian native felt the irritation aimed in his direction surge.

‘Perhaps this wasn’t my best idea... Oh well, too late to back out now.’

“The SLEEPING DRAGON!”

Then, the gate at the far end open and she stepped out. Mihoshi Keibatsu, War Councilor of Odan-Urr. Her violet eyes were fixed on the Corellian native.

Glaring, in fact.

Whilst her figure was slight, the Keibatsu’s presence dwarfed it massively. Clad in her leather trousers, knee-high boots, loose-fitted shirt and long coat, with a wide-brimmed hat casting a shadow over her face, the Kyataran looked like a gunslinger straight from the days of the Old Republic.

Only, in her hands, she held what appeared to be a black bo-staff with silver on either ends that he knew depicted dragons.

The gate slammed shut behind her, the electrical fence came to life with a crackle, then hummed with energy. Bright orange currents became visible around each other.

“LET. THE FIGHT... BEGIN!”

Miho stared at the Shaevelian-Umbaran, her violet eyes harder than amethysts. How long had she been tracking him? Two weeks now? Two weeks she wasn't spending with someone she actually cared about. Two weeks in the emptiness of space with constant communications asking her ‘Has he been found yet?’ and it was all so stupid. Even Pips wanted nothing to do with this and was currently searching through the crowd for HK-72 in the event it needed to be neutralized in some way.

Why were they here? Because the man across the ring from her couldn't keep it in his pants. “I don't suppose you'll just come with me, will you?”

She could feel his mischievous smirk from behind his helmet. “Didn't think so.”

She leveled Kurotsubaki at the man and sighed softly. He wasn't going to be an easy take down, but she didn't have a choice. “It's time to come home, Celevon. If you don't make me angrier, I promise the trip and the trial will be swift.”

The armored man shook his head, his voice carrying just as much. “Can't do that. Spending a god awful amount of time in prison again is not what I want to be doing.”

With that, he drew the Deadman's revolver knowing that he needed range on the smaller woman. A lot of it. His first shot hit the ground at her feet, causing an explosion of sparks from the ground as the slug ricocheted off the floor and into the wall behind her.

“Cute,” she said almost disgustedly. “Very well then.”

She barely tapped the end of Kurotsubaki on the ground before Celevon fired several more times. The Force guided her steps, the path of each slug laid bare along the fabric of time. She followed those threads and sidestepped away from the slugs one after another, each impacted the area wall harmlessly. Using her free hand, she reached up and held her hat in place as she moved through a space all her own.

Fire, dodge, fire, dodge. It was almost enjoyable to dance through the rain of rounds as Celevon moved back and away along the circular ring. The outcome of the fight was a moot point. He was coming with her one way or the other, but until then, surely the High Councillor couldn’t fault her for having a bit of fun with it.

Faster than she really expected, Celevon holstered his firearm and launched several throwing knives in her direction. The end of Kurotsubaki whirled in a blur of black and silver to knock the blades away just before the wave of fire shot forward to engulf the space around her. Miho covered her face quickly, pulling down the brim of her hat for a moment until the heat of the fire wooshed behind her.

Looking up at the man, she narrowed her eyes at him and the look she gave him should have been enough to peel the color from his armor. Small wisps of smoke drifted away from her lustrous black hair. “Do you have any idea how long the smell of burnt hair lingers?”

The cad nodded and the Proconsul just knew he was grinning at her. She rushed forward, stepping in a way that each movement put her just out of the way of an oncoming projectile, either a thrown knife or a hastily fired shot, Miho spun at the last second on the balls of her feet and slammed the end of Kurotsubaki’s haft into the side of Celevon’s helmeted head.

The impact of the strike staggered the man, the sound of it had to be like being on the inside of a cathedral bell. She set the end of her weapon on the arena’s ground and smiled, her face devoid of any emotion that was even remotely pleasant. There was nothing that she needed to get done, so waiting for him to recover his faculties before she kept beating on him was little more than good manners.

It took Celevon a few moments to recover from the disorientation of having his bell rung. His throwing knives were behind Mihoshi and neither were visibly utilizing the Force, the Deadman revolver was securely holstered at his side and it would take too long to reload.

Thus, the Seeker popped both concealed blades in his vambraces and smiled — ignoring the fact that the Keibatsu couldn’t see it — in an inviting manner at the woman. “Should I get knocked out, make sure you pick up our profits for the fight before we depart.”

The Marauder was close enough that the Shaevalian-Umbaran didn’t need to raise his voice to be heard. As one of Mihoshi’s eyebrows quirked, Celevon moved to close the distance between them, ducking and sliding beneath the reactive strike of Kurotsubaki that would’ve rang his bell again.

The War Councilor stepped back as the Seeker lashed out toward her booted ankles with one of his blades, then advanced toward Celevon with Kurotsubaki in an overhand strike as the male moved into a kneeling position. A flick of both wrists retracted the blades, vambraces crossed to intersect her weapon.

Before the strike could fully impact, Mihoshi’s violet eyes widened as she felt one of his hands close around her wrist, an armored shoulder tucked into her abdomen and the Seeker continued her forward momentum in a toss.

Both of them ignored the wild cheering of the crowd as the Proconsul flipped mid-air, then landed smoothly on her feet, one end of her weapon pointed at the Shaevalian-Umbaran. The amethyst of her gaze had narrowed once more as the Keibatsu recalled that the man was just as dangerous in close range, even when severely limiting himself.

Celevon had trained extensively in mixed martial arts, fusing elements of Teras Kasi and Echani with Sliding Hands and Whiptree. Whilst she kept up the attack, aiming Kurotsubaki at different parts of his body and the Shaevalian-Umbaran tucked and weaved, Mihoshi’s mind raced through what she recalled from both observation and the male’s file. It matched up perfectly with what she was seeing. Reactionary, utilizing her own momentum in an attempt to take the Marauder down.

Even with her own extensive training, the Keibatsu would be at his mercy if it came to grappling. Thankfully, she had a plan. And it relied on the Seeker using his own tactics.

Therefore, she let Celevon get close.

Strike. Feint.

The moment the Shaevalian-Umbaran moved to grab her, the Marauder struck back, using his greatest defense against him.

While practically indestructible, beskar was highly conductive when it came to electricity.

Thus, when Celevon moved to grab, Mihoshi unleashed her fury in a point-blank burst of Force Lightning, directly into one of the vambraces.

Whilst the Seeker was twitching on the ground, with the occasional blue-white current visibly sparking off of his armor, the Marauder breathed a sigh of relief. And raised Kurotsubaki to signal her victory.

Amongst the cheers and chants of ‘Dragon’, Mihoshi Keibatsu allowed a small smirk to curve her lips.

She would let them assume it had been a weapon she had kept concealed until the right moment.

In a way, it was true.

Miho had known on some level that everything about this was off. Celevon hadn't been trying as hard as she'd seen him fight. Hadn't been doing everything he could to stop her. Which meant this was all for show. She closed her eyes and shook her head. A bit of warning about his flair for being overly dramatic would have been nice. Ah well.

The Shaevelian-Umbaran steadied himself and Miho could feel the glare from behind the visor. She gave him a shrug that meant everything and nothing, but her smile was definitely becoming more and more pleasant. “You ready to give up yet?”

Celevon shook his head one last time, an answer instead of trying to clear anything away. “Where would the fun be in that?”

The War Councillor shrugged and sighed. He'd come with her but only when he thought the show was over. So, a show it would be. She surged forward, booted heels seeming to thunder across the ring. Celevon quickly drew his Sith Dagger and closed with the much smaller woman.

Miho deflected the blows from his dagger with the haft of Kurotsubaki, each one getting a little closer and pushing her back. The lines of fate shown to her by the Force helped, but his sheer size and physicality were slowly making up for the difference.

The blade slipped through her whirling defenses and traced a line through the silk shirt and along her stomach, drawing a thin line of scarlet. Celevon stepped back, the game wasn't meant to be that real.

That one moment of doubt was exactly what Miho had been aiming for. Kurotsubaki's black haft whirled in a blur of black, silver and green, as the end of it came up between Celevon’s legs and impacted his jewels with a deafening crack.

The blow lifted the Shaevelian-Umbaran from the ground, the deafening crack of the haft striking armor plating, the sheer magnitude of physical might she put behind it and Celevon was left gasping and writing on the ground.

She gently placed Kurotsubaki against the unarmored area where his groin and upper thigh met. “Yield. Yield, or I take your treasures with me and keep them in a jar.”

Celevon nodded, still in too much pain to actually form words.

She lifted her weapon to thunderous applause and cheers. The show of it was fun, exciting and a little bit annoying. But, that last part was probably because of the Assassin laying on the ground.

“If you're a good boy, you can rest in the extra cabin I have on the ship. If you aren't, I will muzzle you and throw you in the cargo hold.”