Keldabe, Mandalore
Cheers thundered through the stands as the two blades clashed together, hard enough make the fighter's arms shake. The two grappled for a moment, then one pushed away from the other and the two fell back to circle each other cautiously.
Jay, standing in the fighter's trench some meters away, clapped her gloved hands together and called, "Get her Jaing! You can do it!"
The blue-armored Mandalorian spun his beskad deftly in his hand and darted forward, coming at his opponent with a speedy attack of diagonal slashes and powerful stabs.
His opponent, a red-and-black armored Mandalorian woman, blocked the attacks and spun quickly to evade a slash at her head.
Jaing stepped forward, every motion filled with ferocious intent while the woman backpedaled, echoing his motions with deadly grace. The two paused near the center of the circle, and Jaing raised his sword above his head and a traditional Mando fighting position. His opponent slowly adopted a more open stance, her own blade pointed toward the ground. They once again fell into step around each other, circling and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Brianna, standing next to Jay, pointed to Jaing's feet.
"See how he keeps most of his weight on his front foot?" she said. "That's important in melee combat. You need to be able to leap forward, but not sacrifice so much mobility that you can't back up."
Jay craned her neck, trying to see more of the fight. Jaing ducked a swipe to the head and fell to his knees, bringing his sword around over his left shoulder. His blade scored a mark up the red-black Mandalorian's back plate and tore her shin-length black cape.
Spectators all around the arena either raised their left fists or slashed horizontally in the air, reinforcing their opinions with cheers or boos. Jay had learned early on during the tournament that a raised fist meant support for a simulated killing blow, while a horizontal slash said that it was just a flesh wound and therefore dismissible on the scoring charts.
The large readouts above the battle arena flashed a raised-fist symbol and switched from reading Skirata: 1, Tracyn: 2, to reading, Skirata: 2, Tracyn: 2. Cheers erupted through the stands outside the fighting pit and Jay could almost feel the vibrations from hundreds of feet stomping wildly.
"I can honestly say, vode, that I haven't seen a fight this serious in a very long time," boomed the announcer over the speakers set up around the arena. The loud, metallic Strap music that had been blaring through the speakers died to allow him to be heard. "Let's see if Skirata has the moves to unseat our current single-weapon champion!"
Rame slapped a palm against the trench wall and called, "You can do it Jaing! Wipe the floor with her ass!"
"Don't listen to them, Tal!" Brianna shouted to her own favored contender, grinning widely as the fight continued. "You're at least fifteen years younger than Skirata! You can take him!"
Jay, Brianna, and Rame were all standing within the prep ring that surrounded the Battle Circle arena. All around Jay, Mandalorians and non-Mandos alike were suiting up and practicing for their battle, or just waiting their turn and watching the fight. Some talked among themselves, some sat alone while lost in their own thoughts, and some even laid bets on who would be the victor of the current duel.
She heard friendly arguments, laughing, and shouting as the Battle Circle gladiators geared up for their fights. Everywhere she looked, the usually curt, laconic Mandalorians were as giddy as younglings in a sweetshop.
She wasn't surprised; from all she'd heard as the tournament date grew nearer, the Battle Circle was the single most popular competition in the Mandalorian culture. Not even meshgeroya - the supposed 'beautiful game' and a Mandalorian favorite - came close to the adrenaline and heady excitement of the Battle Circle. Mandos from all over the planet had traveled thousands of miles to mass in Keldabe for the competition, while others had traveled from as far as Imperial City to be present for this momentous occasion.
The Battle Circle itself was a fairly large circular arena, maybe nine meters across with a blue-white mat along the bottom. The entire arena was set a few meters into the ground so there would be no disputes over who was out of bounds or not. There were large viewscreens showing the close-up details of the duels for the mass of spectators in the stands. The entire complex had been built into the field where the Stunball pitch had once resided, near MandalMotors tower. The reasons were simply practical: once the tournament was over, the Battle Circle would all be disassembled and returned to its previous state.
The only detraction from the scene was that the Imperial Governor of Mandalore - a portly man named Utam - had decided to be present, and he had posted security forces accordingly. Jay was nowhere near as nervous around stormtroopers and other Imperials as previous months, but she still didn't like them being so close.
She rubbed her gloved hands together and zipped up her black armorleather jacket. It was the middle of winter now on Mandalore, and it seemed to get colder with every day that passed. The sky was covered in blue-gray clouds with shafts of light piercing through the dark cloud layer and a frigid breeze wafted through the area.
She looked around the prep ring and said, "Where's Vhetin? I haven't seen him in a while."
Brianna tore her gaze away from the fight and looked around, a slight frown creasing her face. "I don't know. Probably getting ready; he's up for a duel himself in a couple minutes."
"I hate to admit it," Jay said, "but I'm actually enjoying myself."
"Even though you can't fight yourself?" Brianna asked.
Because the Imperials were present, Jay couldn't risk fighting in the tournament and having someone recognize her as the prison escapee who'd had a six thousand credit bounty on her head only months ago.
But Jay nodded. "Yeah. I'm glad we decided to do this instead of having just a normal training session."
Someone clapped her on the shoulder and said, "That's the spirit. I told you you'd have fun."
Jay turned to see a white-armored Mandalorian woman standing behind her, hefting a long, thin beskad. She had a shin-length white kama decked with red trim and a white shoulder cape as well. She had a red stripe down her armor's chest plates, but her armor was otherwise unmarked. The woman pulled her helmet off and set it on the bench in front of them, revealing a stunningly beautiful face and long blond hair that - for now - hung loose over her shoulders.
"Oh," Jay said, relaxing. "Mia, it's you."
Rame's wife ran her hands through her hair, which was twisted up in a tangled mess that Mandalorians colloquially called buy'ce-gemas or helmet-hair, and smiled as she greeted everyone.
"Where'd you get the new kit?" Brianna asked with a raised eyebrow. "I thought you'd decided not to become Mandalorian. Had a change of heart?"
"Not yet. But just because I'm technically not Mando doesn't mean I can't have my own armor." Mia grinned, a gesture that made her face light up and one that drew gazes from all over the prep trench.
She stepped up next to Rame and regarded the fight with interest. She winced as Jaing caught a boot to the face and said, "How's he holding up?"
"Well enough," Brianna replied. "He's pulling the fight out to a draw, and Tracyn's not backing down for love or money. How was your practice with Ordo?"
"He's all moody again," Mia replied, not taking her eyes off the fight, "and he gets wicked fast with a sword when he does. That, and he's been practicing since last year, just so he can beat me this time."
"Does he have a chance?" Jay inquired.
Mia flipped her sword across the back of her hand in a blindingly fast arc before sheathing it across her back in a single, fluid motion.
"Not a chance in hell," she replied with a wink.
On the outside Mia may have looked like a beautiful, fragile farmer's wife, but she had a resilience hidden beneath the surface that rivaled that of even the most hardened Mandalorian. Jay admired the woman's inner strength. It was a pity she wasn't a bounty hunter.
Mia leaned against the front wall of the trench and said, "I'm more interested in Jaing's fight right now. I didn't know the old boy had it in him for another fight."
"Chronologically he's only in his late twenties," Rame reminded her.
"But biologically he's almost fifty," his wife replied. "And that takes a toll."
Rame shrugged and turned his attention back to the fight, booing as Tracyn slashed her saber across Jaing's stomach plate. The older Mando staggered back, a thin silver line of scraped paint marring the smooth gray of his armor. Across the arena, a horizontal-slash symbol appeared on the screens, signaling for the fight to continue.
"I don't think Jaing's age is a problem," Jay said, leaning against the trench wall. "Tracyn is a pretty impressive fighter. I think she could even show Vhetin a thing or two."
Rame chuckled. "Don't write Vhetin off just yet. At least not until you see him perform."
"Why?" Brianna said, looking over at him. "Have they released who he's fighting?"
There was a scattering of oohs and aahs from the crowd as Jaing caught his opponent with a fist to the gut, then followed up with a punch to the chin that sent the Mando woman staggering back. Jay flinched but grinned at the clone's relentlessness.
Whereas other cultures would look down on a man striking a woman - and it was no different on Mandalore, save that most of the women would undoubtedly punch back - within the Mandalorian Battle Circle everyone was equal and the contenders would pull no punches. Jay found that more fair.
Tracyn scrambled to her feet, holding her stomach as Jaing approached, ready to press his advantage. The crowd cheered as their sabers clashed once more, and Tracyn caught Jaing in the stomach with the tip of her armored boot.
Rame passed Brianna a datapad. The bounty huntress took it and scrolled through the posted fights until she stopped and her mouth dropped open.
"You're kidding, right?" she said with a growing grin. "Someone hit me, because I must be dreaming."
"Why?" Jay said, taking the datapad. She squinted as she hunted through the list of Mandalorian names until she found Vhetin. His name was partnered with...
"Who's Gotab?" she asked.
Mia grinned, still watching the fight outside the trench. "He's only one of the best swordsman on Mandalore. He was the champion for five years running a few seasons ago. Then Tracyn took him down and took the title. Since then he's laid low, waiting for the right time and the right fighting event."
"Looks like he's got it," Brianna said, "if they're going to have him fight Vhetin."
Jaing was thrown onto his back and as he attempted to roll aside as Tracyn leaped forward. He moved away, kicking out desperately with his right foot. He caught the woman in the side of the helmet and sent her sprawling. Jaing scrambled to press his advantage, swinging his blade down and pressing it to Tracyn's throat as the other fighter attempted to struggle to her feet.
The red-black Mando tensed for a moment, as if thinking of retaliation, then finally relaxed and raised her hands in submission.
The stands erupted into cheers and raised fists as the readout flashed to read, Skirata: 3, Tracyn: 2.
"And that's it, vode!" the announcer cried over the intercom. "Jaing Skirata is the clear and honorable victor! Give it up for our new single-blade champion!"
Jaing paid no attention to the cheering from his supporters or the booing from others. He just knelt and grasped Tracyn's forearm, hauling his fellow fighter to her feet. She nodded approval and seemed to exchange a few words with the old clone. They were too far away to hear, however, and the audio receptors set up around the arena were too flooded by the roar from the spectators to pick up their conversation.
Jaing turned to the crowd and threw his hands into the air in a victory stance, waving to his supporters. Tracyn waved as well as the viewscreens above them replayed some of the fight's more memorable moments: the time near the beginning of the duel when Tracyn had front-flipped over Jaing's sword blade, the time when Jaing had deflected his opponent's attack with merely his dueling gauntlet, and, of course, Jaing's impressive turnaround to victory at the end of the fight.
After a few more moments, the two Mandos strode toward the exit together, no apparent animosity between them. Small droplets of rain began to fall as they disappeared through a large door along one side of the arena.
For Mandalorians, the point of the Battle Circle wasn't about who won. It was about the fight itself, and the knowledge one could gain during combat. Jay had heard of the philosophy before when learning about the ancient Echani warrior race while in the Academy. It didn't surprise her that it was so similar for Mandalorians.
I guess when most of their culture revolves around their warriors and their notoriety as mercenaries, she thought, it's only natural that they perfect their fighting until it's part of who they are.
She applauded with the rest as Jaing and Tracyn left the Battle Circle. A large door slid shut behind them, clearing them from view.
The lights suddenly dimmed until the illumination from the cloudy sky was the only light in the arena. After a few moments of silence to let the crowd settle down, the announcer adopted a more serious tone.
"Now, vode of all shapes, sizes, ages, and races, we of the Battle Circle have a very special event this year... one that promises to have every single one of you on the edges of your seats."
The crowd went almost instantly silent, their attention drawn to the Circle once more.
"We Mando'ade pride ourselves on our adoption of other races' technology, weapons, even fighting styles. There is no one we can't learn from. And now, for the first time ever in MandalMotors' Battle Circle Tournament, I give you..." the announcer paused for dramatic effect, "the first match of the melee lightsaber event!"
The viewscreen flashed and was overlaid with the symbol of the Mandalorian emblem - the menacing mythosaur skull - behind two crossed lightsaber blades, one blue, and one green.
There was a pause as the crowd slowly began to realize what they were about to witness. Then the entire stadium exploded into cheers and stomping and howls of excitement.
Jay grinned at the crowd's jubilation. As one of the few who'd seen Vhetin in action, she knew they were in for a good show. She didn't know about this Gotab guy, though...
As the crowd eventually calmed down, the viewscreen's crossed saber symbol faded and the camera view returned, zooming in on the large door on the northern curve of the arena. With a low rumble the durasteel door retracted, revealing a shadowy form within.
"Our first contender," the announcer continued, "from the mysterious bastion known as Kyrimorut, the brother of our newest single-blade melee champion and the former melee single-blade champion for five consecutive seasons... vode an, I am proud to give you Gotab Skirata!"
At his cue, an athletic-looking Mandalorian in dull green-black armor jogged to the center of the Battle Circle, igniting a lightsaber of the same shade of dark green as his armor's beskar plates. Jay heard the familiar snap-hiss of the blade's activation, even over the cheering of the spectators. The Circle's audio receptors caught the sound and amplified it, further driving the point home that the new fighters would duel with the most deadly melee weapon in existence.
"And our challenger," the announcer said, "a man you all know even if only by reputation, one of Manda'yaim's premier bounty hunters and the current shockstaff melee champion for three consecutive years, let's hear it for... Cin Vhetin!"
The southern door rumbled open and Vhetin's familiar black-gray form strode to the center of the Circle, activating his blue-bladed saber pike with a flourish as he went.
Cheers shook the Battle Circle as the viewscreens zoomed in on both contestants. Jay noticed that there were considerably fewer cheers to greet Vhetin, and she briefly wondered why.
Probably because so few people know anything about him, she thought, rolling her eyes slightly. Vhetin's mystique didn't exactly make him popular in Keldabe; Mandalorians generally didn't like their own vode keeping secrets from them.
On the other hand, Gotab was certainly a crowd pleaser. He was clapping back at the crowd and raising his hands as the spectators shouted his name. Vhetin was his usual self. He looked around the crowd and waved as much as necessary, but was much less social than Gotab. His full attention was fixed on the other Mando.
Jay unconsciously copied Vhetin's tactics out of reflex, evaluating everything about Gotab. She watched his walk, seeing if he had any limp, evaluated his athletic form, estimated his overall skill.
From what she could see, Gotab was a seasoned warrior. He walked with that same warrior's grace that she had noticed in Vhetin upon their first meeting. And upon closer inspection, she thought she even saw a bit of Gotab's stance in Vhetin's movements. There was an undeniable similarity in their gait, that deadly grace that projected a strong don't mess with me vibe. An interesting coincidence, but how would it effect the duel?
From what she read on the datapad stats, Gotab was proficient in a lightsaber form called Ataru, apparently all spinning and flashy lightsaber tricks but extremely deadly in the right hands. The same stats also listed Vhetin as skilled in a form called Makashi, a very deadly form that was almost all aggression with a smattering of defensive moves thrown in for protection.
It would make for an interesting fight: Gotab's practiced skill and dexterity versus the raw aggression that Jay had witnessed pouring forth from Vhetin on several occasions. Jay found herself watching the proceedings intently.
As the two fighters approached the center of the battle circle, the Overseer - a kind of referee - stepped between them and exchanged a few muted words that the audio speakers didn't pick up.
Dressed in highly reflective red armor that made him stand out against the blue of the Battle Circle, the Overseer was arguably the most important member of the Battle Circle crew. He made sure the fight didn't get out of hand, and he was charged with breaking up the fight in the rare occasions that it did. He had a stun prod on his belt and a long-handled beskar longsaber sheathed across his back in case things got ugly.
"And now for the ritual reading of the rules," the announcer said, his voice hushed with something akin to awe. The stands were suddenly silent, not so much as a cough or muttered word.
The Overseer's voice was gravelly as it suddenly boomed out across the stadium. He looked between the two contestants and said, "Rule One: No one dies in the battle circle. No lethal tactics and no 'accidents.' Also with the jetii'kads, no amputations are allowed."
Vhetin and Gotab both nodded agreement, and the Overseer continued, "Rule Two: use only the weapons that are assigned to you. Fists and feet are allowed, but no external weapons are honorable. You lose your jetii'kad and you're on your own.
"Rule Three: no external equipment. Special species' abilities are allowed, but no hidden stim packs, spices, or powered armor equipment are honorable. Use only your strength, your stamina, and your own ingenuity to gain the upper hand in combat.
"Any deviation from these rules will result in a dishonorable disqualification from the Battle Circle tournament." He looked between the two again and said, "Do you understand and accept the rules of the Battle Circle?"
The two contenders nodded slowly and the Overseer nodded back. He turned to the crowd, taking three carefully measured steps away from the contestants, and raised an open palm. The rain was starting to come down harder now, making the lightsaber blades pop and hiss as the water evaporated on the energy blades.
Vhetin and Gotab tensed, each falling into their chosen combat stance. Gotab placed his right foot forward and held his saber steadily over his head, his gloves flexing over the contoured grip of his saber hilt in an openly aggressive stance. Vhetin bent his knees and held his saber pike out behind him, stretching his right hand forward in a cautious neutral combat stance; there was no telling what he would unleash first.
The Overseer made a fist, which hundreds of spectators around them mirrored, even Rame, Mia, and Brianna."
With a shout of "Nynir!" which roughly meant "Fight!" The Overseer swung his fist down, and the fight began.
Vhetin knew better than to attack right away. Doing so would be reckless and overly dangerous. So he kept his openly neutral stance and slowly began to circle Gotab. The older Mando didn't attack either, and shifted his feet to keep Vhetin in view.
"Nervous?" Gotab asked, a definite note of mischievousness in his tone. Vhetin didn't answer him; instead feinted to the left, then spun and slashed from the right.
Gotab blocked the surprise blow effortlessly, his glowing green blade sending a shower of sparks raining across the both of them as it slammed against Vhetin's blue one. Vhetin followed up with a reverse-slash with the blunt end of his longer weapon, knocking Gotab in the ribs. If the other Mando felt the blow, he didn't show it. He just trapped the blunt end of Vhetin's saber pike under his arm and kicked out with his boot. He caught Vhetin in the chest and sent him staggering away. The younger Mandalorian was barely able to maintain his grip on his saber pike's shaft.
He quickly regained his footing, swinging back to Gotab and pointing his blade at his opponent's chest in an openly offensive stance. Gotab's step didn't falter, and he just stepped forward and unleashed his attack.
Vhetin backpedaled, frantically blocking slashes and stabs that were all as powerful as any killing blow. For an old Clone Wars veteran, Gotab was still as strong as he must have been in his youth. As Vhetin was pushed back against the Battle Circle wall, he grimaced and thought, all right, I need to end this before things get seriously out of hand.
He pushed back with all his might against Gotab's blade, sending the Mando staggering back; he may have been strong, but Vhetin was much stronger. Vhetin spun and stabbed the blunt end of his staff against his opponent's faceplate before quickly spinning the other way and hooking the shaft of his weapon across the back of Gotab's knees and sending him sprawling to the ground in a crash of armor plates. Gotab struggled to get to his feet, but within the blink of an eye Vhetin's glowing blue lightsaber blade was hovering only inches away from his throat.
A smattering of cheers echoed through the Battle Circle as a black raised-fist symbol flashed across the arena's viewscreens. After a moment Vhetin stepped back and offered a hand to help Gotab to his feet. The other Mando took his hand as nearby fighters standing in the fighter's trench clapped Vhetin on the backplate in congratulations.
"Nice moves," Gotab grunted as he regained his balance. "You actually had me goin' there for a while."
"That makes the score Vhetin: one, Gotab: naas," Vhetin said, grinning behind his helmet's faceplate.
"Beginner's luck," Gotab said as they walked back to the center of the Battle Circle. "You won't get that lucky again."
"I don't know," Vhetin said as they fell into their battle stances once more. "I've learned some new moves since I trained with you."
"You were a good trainee," Gotab admitted as the Overseer started their fight again. He darted forward, trying to penetrate Vhetin's defenses as he said, "But you're a fool if you think I taught you everything I know."
Vhetin spun his saber pike in a full 360-degree circle and Gotab's strike bounced off the beskar shaft. Vhetin slid his saber pike along the glowing lightsaber blade, deactivating his own blue blade for a moment to hammer at Gotab's stomach and ribs with both ends of the weapon. The older Mando grunted and kneed Vhetin in the chest, forcing him a few steps back.
Vhetin put a hand to his chest, breathing hard as he raised his saber pike one-handed and once more adopted a defensive stance.
"Your form is good," Gotab said, crossing his saber in a lazy X in front of his chest, "but you're not using the appropriate mix of saber skills and physical fighting. You're focused too much on one or the other."
Vhetin shook his head as their lightsabers clashed again. "This isn't another one of your training exercises, old man. Try to stay focused."
"And you need to learn to relax," Gotab replied as he nimbly dodged out of the way of Vhetin's next strike. He didn't even flinch as Vhetin brought the blunt end of his weapon down at his head. He just blocked and caught Vhetin in the ribs with a roundhouse kick. Using the momentum from the kick, Gotab leaped nimbly into the air and caught Vhetin in the faceplate with a kick hard enough to send Vhetin head-over-heels.
Instinct kicked in. While twisting in mid air, Vhetin shifted his weight, kicking out with his arms and legs and landing on his feet a meter away. He glanced up at Gotab and grinned again, his face throbbing.
"You'll have to do better than that," he said, standing and bringing his blade up again.
Gotab nodded in appreciation. "Acrobatic. I'm impressed, but not frightened."
As their blades met again, Gotab grunted, "So... do you have gymnastic equipment up at the bastion? Or do you just do cartwheels when you think no one's looking?"
Vhetin chuckled darkly as he shoved the older man away and moved forward to press his advantage, spinning and whirling his saber pike around himself in blinding arcs that would cut any un-armored being to pieces. Sparks flew from their lightsabers and skittered away across the arena floor as their spectators screamed their approval at the fight unraveling in front of them.
"Give it up, old man," Vhetin growled as their sabers locked against each other once more. He shoved against the green blade in front of his eyes and said, "I'm younger, fitter, and faster than you."
Vhetin could almost see Gotab's grin through his helmet. "Well, you know how much the crowd loves an underdog."
Gotab suddenly relaxed his grip on his lightsaber and caught Vhetin in the chin with a strong uppercut. Vhetin was knocked backwards off his feet, cursing as he landed on his back, his jaw throbbing worse than before now. In an instant, Gotab's boot landed on Vhetin's chestplate, pinning him to the ground as the other Mando's green blade descended and pointed at Vhetin's neck.
"You were saying?" Gotab asked calmly as cheers erupted through the stands and a raised-fist symbol - green to symbolize Gotab's armor - flashed across the viewscreens. The speakers set up around the arena blasted a quick sound bite of the Vode An, the closest Mandalorians had to an anthem, and Vhetin heard the announcer cry, "What a turnaround! The score is now tied, solus-to-solus between Cin Vhetin and Gotab Skirata!"
As Vhetin clambered back to his feet he heard Brianna's voice behind him calling, "Come on cyar'ika! You can do it!"
He turned his gaze slightly as he walked and saw Bri, Rame, Mia, and Jay standing in the fighter's trench, clapping for him and cheering him on.
Rame's voice joined Brianna's, shouting, "Come on Cin! You can fight better than this!"
Vhetin narrowed his eyes, thinking, Rame is right. Time to stop holding back. Special biological abilities are allowed. Time to use them.
He stepped forward, igniting his lightsaber blade once more as Gotab settled into a neutral stance in the center of the Battle Circle. His heart was pumping as the red-armored Overseer raised his fist again.
At the shout of "Nynir!" Vhetin adopted a different tack. Instead of cautiously circling his enemy, or even madly rushing in to attack, he backpedaled. Gotab's body language was one of clear surprise, but he cautiously followed Vhetin, saber at the ready.
Vhetin kept backing up, slowly luring the older Mando closer and closer to the arena wall.
That's it, he thought, his face a mask of determination as they approached the wall. Come on... just a few feet closer.
But Gotab wouldn't fall for his ploy forever. He needed a distraction. So Vhetin jumped forward, spinning his saber pike at shoulder-height and slamming the blunt end against Gotab's blade. He quickly reversed his grip and brought the saber blade down at his opponent. Gotab raised a beskar gauntlet and the lightsaber bounced off it like a rock off a durasteel wall.
But Vhetin still wasn't done. He fell to his knees and slashed out with the shaft of his weapon, hitting Gotab in the armored shins before coming to his feet again and landing a jumping kick in the center of the other Mando's chest.
As planned, Gotab's back slammed against the arena wall and he shook his head, momentarily disoriented.
Vhetin sprinted toward him, leaping into the air and pushing himself off the wall with one foot. He lashed out with his boot, catching Gotab with a kick to the side of the helmet. The older Mando cried out in surprise as he was thrown to the ground, his saber skittering away across the ground and deactivating with a hiss.
Boos erupted from the stands as Vhetin landed hard on his feet and stepped forward. But he wasn't about to cheat. Instead, he tossed his weapon aside as Gotab got to his feet and raised his fists in challenge. Once again, they began to circle each other, waiting for the perfect moment to attack. They traded a few sporadic punches, testing each other's defenses.
There was no denying that Gotab was strong and fit, but now Vhetin was in his element. Hand-to-hand fighting was a specialty of his, and he was a Level 4 Teräs Käsi practitioner. Most beings wouldn't stand a whole minute against his skills.
But Gotab was a seasoned warrior, a veteran of the Clone Wars. He was a Teräs Käsi fighter himself, though not at the level Vhetin used. He was able to effectively hold Vhetin at bay while the younger hunter lashed out with wild punches, flip-kicks, even triple-kicks while in the air. Gotab staggered back as Vhetin front flipped and caught him in the shoulders with both his boots. Vhetin came to his feet again, throwing spinning kicks, punches, and headbutts that would cripple any being stupid enough not to wear armor.
As Gotab stumbled away, Vhetin broke into a run, leaping into the air with one of his gravity-defying jumps as soon as he was close enough. He threw himself sideways, wrapped his boots around Gotab's neck, and spun as he landed, sending his opponent crashing to the ground with an impact that made everyone in the stadium flinch.
Vhetin struggled to his feet again, every muscle in his body screaming in protest, as he knelt over Gotab. He ignored the mix of cheers and boos alike as he wrapped a gloved hand around Gotab's throat and panted, "Do you... yield?"
"A Mandalorian... never yields," Gotab gasped.
Vhetin was about to continue their fight when he heard an almost deafening snap-hiss. He looked down and saw that Gotab's green lightsaber was in the older man's hand and the blade was pointed right under Vhetin's chin.
Gotab chuckled breathlessly and deactivated the lightsaber as the stadium exploded into cheers and a raised-fist symbol flashed across the screen.
"You thought you were so... clever, luring me toward the wall earlier," he said as he clambered to his feet. "And you didn't even notice that I was luring you towards my lightsaber."
"Smart move," Vhetin grudgingly admitted as he moved to retrieve his own discarded weapon. "I have to give credit where it's due."
"Now..." Gotab breathed as they fell into their battle stances once more. "Watch the master at work."
Then the Overseer shouted "Nynir!" once more, and they went back to work.
The lightsaber rules were slightly altered from normal Battle Circle procedure: the winner had to be two killing blows ahead of their opponent to claim victory. In that way, the duel was prolonged for the spectator's enjoyment. As a result, their fight lasted a long time, much longer than any previous duel that day. They fought their way back and forth across the arena, sabers flashing, fists flying. The crowd cheered and booed along with every punch, kick, or slash, screaming their approval as their favored contenders were able to get the upper hand on their opponent. The scoreboard numbers slowly increased from 2 to 3 to eventually 6.
Then, when the seventh round was in full-force, and the score read Vhetin: 6, Skirata: 7, Gotab suddenly caught Vhetin with an uppercut to the chin with the deactivated hilt of his lightsaber. Vhetin's head snapped back, and he heard a loud ripping sound from his neck.
He suddenly felt fresh air on his face as his sealed combat suit ripped under the force of Gotab's blow and his helmet bounced away across the arena. The crowd let out surprised oohs as the cams focused on his helmet slowly spinning to a halt a few meters away.
Vhetin blinked and covered his face in case the cams rotated back to him; it was as terrifying as finding himself naked in front of the crowd. Everything else suddenly ceased to exist, and his mind went blank. Without thinking, without caring about the duel, he threw his saber pike aside and dove for his helmet, scrambling after it before grasping the sides and shoving it back over his head. He let out a long, relieved breath, rolling over onto his back.
Gotab was right there, lightsaber in Vhetin's helmeted face. Cheers erupted through the stands as a final raised-fist symbol flashed across the viewscreens. Vhetin cursed as he accepted Gotab's hand and let the other Mando help him to his feet.
"And that's it, vode!" the announcer shouted into the amplicoder. "This duel is over! Gotab Skirata is our new lightsaber dueling champion!"
It was a legal move. Any other Mandalorian would have continued the fight without a helmet. Gotab had merely pounced on his advantage, just as Vhetin would have done in his situation.
The older Mando sighed as he raised his hands in victory and waved to the cheering crowd.
"Sorry about that," he muttered as Vhetin stepped up to his shoulder and half-heartedly waved to his own scattered supporters. "I swear I didn't mean to-"
"Don't worry about it," Vhetin replied, putting a hand on the green-armored Mando's shoulder. The man turned to him, and they shook hands before the entire crowd.
"Good fight, Bard'ika," Vhetin said, nodding in congratulations. "You've still got good moves for an old man."
Gotab nodded back, saying, "I'll let you get away with that one, Vhetin. But remember, my name is Gotab. You use that name in public again, and I may just have to beat you senseless outside the Circle as well."
"Whatever you say," Vhetin said, not smiling, before turning and leaving the arena without another word. His heart was still pounding at the close call with his helmet; he hadn't expected anything like that to ever happen to him, let alone in front of virtually the entire Mandalorian population of Keldabe. He was glad the holocams had been diverted, focusing on the helmet itself for dramatic effect.
As for Gotab... well, Vhetin wasn't about to reveal the Mandalorian swordmaster's secret no matter how many times the old Mando beat him in the Battle Circle. The man was entitled to leave his past behind him, just as Vhetin had when he'd adopted the Mandalorian way of life.
And after all, no one knew better than Vhetin the importance of secrets.