Elevated over a ravine, the Massassi Arena has withstood the tests of time. It is arranged in a circular formation and made by a slab of stone that connects the opposite slopes of the ravine. On its eastern side, the floating arena leads to a staircase and into a near-vertical cliff face. Because of its nearly unsupported vantage that overlooks a several hundred-meter fall, even the smallest creatures can feel the occasional motion the platform makes as the breeze brushes across its cold surface.

Adding to the adrenaline rush of standing within the slab’s concentric patterns carved into the rock, barriers and obstacles echo the Massassi’s commitment to taking every advantage over their opponents. Pillars ring the outer edge without guard rails between them, some remaining intact and others having toppled into the arena or over the perilous heights. Weeds and other fauna cover each surface as nature seeks to reclaim the ravine and eventually send the arena itself to the depths.

A creaky rope-bridge leads away towards another ancient suspended platform with the same weathered, upturned stones. Mossy footing, and uneven ground make each of these platforms unique in small subtle ways. While there is no seating for formal spectators, the ancient stones of the Massassi Arena hold an omniscient, aged wisdom that speak to the things they have seen and the battles fought through history.

A third rope-bridge leads to yet another platform, completing the triad of battlegrounds that make up the Massassi Arena.

Lucine stood at the edge of the cliff face, gazing down at the ravine below. The ancient trees along the floor of the basin spread their branches wide, creating a canopy of varying shades of green. It was interrupted only by the river that had cut the canyon over the passage of centuries. The sun was nearing the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, giving the river a golden appearance.

There was no sign of Pravus here; or anyone else, for that matter. Lucine knew that she should check in and receive her next assignment, but decided that a few hours of rest were warranted.

She turned away from the magnificent vista, descended the staircase and began to cross the arena. She paused at the center for several moments, before moving to the edge and seating herself upon one of the fallen pillars.

The quiet atmosphere put her into a rare, peaceful mood. She had suffered so much tragedy of late, and had deliberately kept herself busy to avoid thinking about it. Here in this serene setting, she felt like she could start to unravel all of the complicated emotions she had been feeling of late.

But her meditations were interrupted when she noticed the approach of someone new. Though his hair and beard spoke of his advanced age, he was powerfully built and moved with the grace of a man who had spent his life in training. The sight of him tugged at the edges of her memory, as she remembered a few of the reports her spies had brought her. The words of one spy in particular stood out in her mind.

She had sent Kyle to gather intel on an ancient Odanite Jedi, and the spy had returned a changed man. A fevered light had filled his eyes as he had apologetically explained that he had to give up spying for her. He now wanted to do something meaningful with his life. She studied the stranger, wondering if this was the same Jedi who had elicited Kyle's sudden change in heart.

“Good evening. It is a bit late for a stroll in such a desolate location, is it not?” she called to him.

“I could say the same to you,” the old man said with a slight creak to his voice. As he drew nearer, the milk-white cataracts that covered his eyes convinced her of his identity.

“Are you by any chance Liam Torun-Urr?” she asked, her eyes narrowed.

“I am.”

“Do you remember a Human by the name of Kyle Renalion? He spend about three days with you. I would like to know what you said to him to make him quit my service.”

A look of surprise crossed Liam's wrinkled face. “A spy, hmm? I had wondered. He asked the most unusual questions.”

“And yet you have not answered mine,” Lucine replied. She drew upon the Force to give weight to her words as she gestured with her right hand. “Tell me what you said to him.”

The Odanite paused as he felt the her Force-fueled words tickle his mind, before chuckling softly. “Such impatience. Why are you so desperate to know?”

“He was a good employee. I want to know why he left,” she replied, feeling a rising irritation at the old man's recalcitrance.

“His words on the matter were not sufficient?”

“I believe in having all sides of the story,” the Arconan said, her voice tight with frustration.

Liam offered her a small smile as he gestured toward her, before tugging on her beard. “You seem tense. Perhaps we should have a nice cup of Oku Flower tea and talk like rational adults.”

Tea does sound nice, Lucine thought. She opened her mouth to respond to the affirmative before realizing what she was doing. She pressed her lips closed tightly, and unclipped her lightsaber from her belt. “If you will not tell me what I want to know, then I shall simply have to find other ways to convince you.”

“So be it,” the Odanite said, shaking his head as he freed his saberstaff from its shoulder strap. With a snap-hiss, the twin white blades flared to life.

The redhead darted forward, her lightsaber held to the side. The emerald blade materialized moments before she struck, but the blow was easily deflected. The Odanite then shifted his stance, responding with a series of rapid attacks. Lucine fell back, blocking each attack in a haphazard fashion.