"Does he know that you're here?"
"I don't think so. Or, if he does, he doesn't care." Calen felt a strange bit of frustration twinging Niyasa's words in his mind. "What did he show you?"
"His apprentice went mad at the end of the Clone Wars. Said he was going to hunt all the Clones down. Maybe others."
"Well, since the Empire is still around, we know that that didn't pan out."
"Right." Calen slipped back into the cell block as Niyasa got the door open. "What are you going to do?"
"Fiddle around with the electronics. I have a plan, don't worry. Just keep playing your role." Calen grimaced at that, but slid back in between the pair of bars that had lowered, giving him just enough time to slide through. The bars sealed up once again, getting the attention of a Gamorrean on patrol who stared menacingly into Calen and Ziv's cell before stomping off once again.
"You're an absolute madman!" Ziv hissed.
"I have been told as such." Calen said as he slumped down against the wall of his cell.
"No luck with your Jedi friend?"
"No." Calen said, shaking his head. "So that plan is out."
"You planned to get that old fool?" The voice of Mona came to him from across the corridor. Calen could barely make out the pinpricks of her eyes from the dim light over the door of her cell.
"What's it to you?" Calen asked.
"The Grand Champion is a broken man." Mona said. "He was broken before Zobek acquired him. He will not change."
"What would you know about it?" Calen asked. There was a silence that followed.
"My people were brought to ruin just as his were, Darkhaven. The Empire wiped out the Jedi and the Mandalorians. The Night of a Thousand Tears. I was barely a child..." Calen knew of it from the historical records, of course. The suppression of an uprising on Mandalore... another lie he had been told again and again, it would seem.
"I'm sorry."
"It is foolish to be sorry for acts you didn't commit." Mona replied.
"Well, no, but-"
"It doesn't matter now." Mona said. "None of it matters." The pinpricks of her eyes seemed to vanish, the woman returning into the darkness of her cell.
"You should probably get some sleep, Calen." Ziv said, Calen's eyes flicking over to the Neimoidian, barely visible in the after hours light. "The next matches are tomorrow... you'll need your strength."
And right Ziv turned out to be. Sleep was a fleeting thing for him that night and morning came over Rorak 4 far, far too soon and the guards were at the cells to bring the Champions and Technicians alike to that same viewing area.
"Alright, form the queue here! Form the queue here!" One of Zobek's serving staff, flanked by several Gamorreans, approached the group. Along with them were several droids in pairs, one carrying a box and one removing the contents from said box - Calen recognized the silver-white wrapping of ration packs. One was being handed to each combatant and one to each technician. Each one, Calen knew from his time with the Rebels, had enough nutrients in it for a single day all in one meal.
Zobek, clearly, wanted them fully nourished for what was to come.
Or, perhaps, Pirc did. The majordomo had arrived as he had before, with more Gamorreans in tow.
"A new day begins! Our master's tournament of Champions continues!" He walked over to the screen displaying the brackets. "Mona Awaud stood victorious yesterday over her opponent! She is the first Champion to rise to the second round!" It was at this point, along with the camera droids dropping into the pit area, that Calen had become aware that Pirc's voice was being projected to viewers across the Holonet. He slumped down a bit as he tried to stay out of view... which wasn't helped minutes later when the choices were made.
"You have been chosen! The next match shall be Kerth the Mutilator versus...Calen Darkhaven!" Calen visibly paled. Somewhere, a crowd was going nuts.
"Oh, dear..." Ziv looked likewise a bit uneasy, or at least the look that he thought Neimoidians got that resembled uneasiness.
"I'm guessing he's 'the Mutilator' because of his severed thumbs collection?" Calen muttered.
"Not... exactly..." Ziv said quietly, but was soon cut off as Pirc spoke again.
"Champions! Step forward!" Calen moved forward before the Gamorrean could get to him with their vibropikes, instead moving up and just in time to come face to face with a black-suited Trandoshan. The moment Calen locked eyes with the being, he felt his blood run cold. The lizard-like being had a hard edge to him, a deep scar cresting through one of his large, orange eyes. A few scales from his face had been torn away, leaving only scar-tissue in its wake. Calen's instincts were to run, but he knew well that he had nowhere to run to even if he were inclined to follow that instinct. Instead, he stood there, his back stiffened.
"Champions! The time has come to select your weapons for the fight to come!" Once more, the weapons chamber was opened and the holographic armory appeared before them, filled to the brim with various instruments.
"Choose carefully!" Ziv warned with a hissing whisper before some Gamorreans came along to separate Calen and Kerth from the rest of the group. Calen moved into the armory proper and began to look at the images. There were so many options and he knew next to nothing about what it was he was going to face. Remembering his Academy days, he decided that the best approach would be to cast a wide net. His first weapon choice was an E-11, a power pack already loaded in. The second option was a cluster of grenades. The third and final choice was a simple vibroknife. Not his first choice, but if worse came to worse he would at least have a melee option besides his fist. The Trandoshan, he knew, would have much more than just fists.
With that task completed, Calen moved to stand on one of the two circular spots that would lead up into the arena. Kerth, his choices made, moved into the other spot and locked eyes with Calen once more.
"Sham ba gahoo jar s'ont kahassk." The reptilian hissed at Calen.
"...what?"
"Champions! Prepare yourselves! The match is about to begin!" Pirc said. "I think you'll find that our Master Zobek has... special... things planned for you! Get ready... begin!" The platforms rose up and Calen found himself shrouded in darkness for a long moment. After that moment, he felt a breeze on his face and realized that he'd been lifted up into a chamber of some kind. It was dark and he could hear a distant rumbling that quickly grew louder as the roofing above him opened up to show the seats of the arena above. To Calen's left and right, there was a corridor that went down as far as he could see before branching off in another direction.
'A maze?' He thought, wondering if that was what the game was. Unlike Mona's fight in what had looked to be a rocky, grassy field, he was now in some sort of metal and stone construct... along with a bloodthirsty Trandoshan. 'Great... just great...' He moved forward out of the spot where his platform had risen to, his feet hitting something metallic. With the light from above, he could make out the form of his chosen E-11, which he grabbed and immediately checked to ensure that it was loaded. His attempt to set it for stun, however, failed and the weapon immediately went back to kill.
Zobek, it seemed, was fond of the bloodsport. As if literally everything else about the Hutt's set up weren't an indication of that.
'If there's a maze, then there must be an exit.' Calen reasoned. 'If I can find it, I can get out of here.' Of course, he wasn't naive enough to believe that it was that easy, if there even was an exit to the place. Given the fight he had seen Mona in, it seemed that the fights were to the death. He heard the crowd calling out for blood and Pirc's voice thundered over them all.
"The Mutilator versus the newcomer! Will Calen Darkhaven survive the Maze of Mayhem? Or will the Trandoshan Terror claim another victim?"
"What are you, the narrator?" Calen muttered in spite of the danger of the situation, carefully making his way down one of the two corridors, keeping a hand to the wall. The corridor soon branched off into four different pathways that each went further than his eyes could see before either stopping in a wall or fading off into the darkness. "Kind of spoiled for choice, I guess..." He said, blaster raised as he awaited death by Trandoshan. Picking a hallway, he moved along it into the darkness as he heard the dull roar of the crowd overhead.
"Looks like Calen is in the eye of the Krykna!"
"The eye of the wha-?" Calen started before his eyes caught the form before him. A thin, white leg appeared in his view... and then a few more attached to a large, bulbous form. "Okay, well.. that's new..." The creature was like a spider, evidently much larger as it lumbered toward him. Its black eyes blinking and a mouth beneath those eyes opened and flanked on either side by large mandibles. Calen lifted his blaster and pulled the trigger three times. Three bolts hit the beast, and seemed to bounce right off of it, slamming into the walls. Calen ducked away, rolling back down the corridor as bits of debris rained down from the stone walls that had been blasted into.
The crowd cheered.
"EAT HIM! EAT HIM! EAT HIM! EAT HIM!" Calen tensed as the Krykna moved toward him, its legs clamoring within the narrow space to get toward him, drool dropping from its gaping maw as it grew closer and closer to him.
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