Chapter Nine: Fighters
Rattatak. A harsh world of stone, unable to create or sustain life. But its peoples endured, thrived, off the sustenance of battle. Of conflict. Of pain. Their pale hands not meant to create, only to crush and destroy. Their structures not crafted, but carved from the rocky terrain. And carved into a mountain bordering a small village was an example of Rattataki splendor. A coliseum. Where the warriors' warriors would meet in combat to the delight of onlookers.
Rows of seats encircled the rounded arena, where the majority of the village congregated in anticipation of the next match. The white-skinned Rattataki numbered over one hundred, each marked with a unique set of tribal tattoos indicative of their accomplishments and legacy.
But a single figure stood out from the others. Sitting alone, a Human watched over the proceedings, donned in a vibrant red coat that clashed with the dullness that surrounded him, but was right at home amongst the blood stains that populated the arena.
The crowd began to stir when one of the entrances to the lower floor opened. The voice of an announcer began to ring out across the arena. "Are you ready to see some action?" The crowd unanimously replied with an affirming cheer. "Then let's get started! This man needs no introduction. You know him. You love him. He's your champion… the Jagged Tempest… the Ardent Razor… Kar'jek Tjensi!"
The stirring crowd turned into one of absolute fervor when a man emerged from the shadowed hallway below. The figure's gait exuded confidence. He raised his arms as well as the audience's spirits as he approached the floor's center. The crowd went wild at the gladiator's presence, especially one little girl who violently cheered from the front row.
The man was immediately recognizable as a warrior, despite being completely unarmored. The Rattataki moved with pride, showing off the numerous black cultural tattoos that marked the entirety of his face and continued down to his body. Long lines of barbed tribal circles and curved patterns wrapped around his naked torso and arms. At his waist, two pristinely silver swords rested, each capable of wreaking destruction without the help of energized edges or vibrating cores.
"And the challenger... a man who doesn't know the meaning of the word unscathed… the last man standing in the last battle royal… 'Stoneskin' Ukajj!"
Opposite the champion, a new figure emerged. A giant of a man, even for a Rattataki. With a powerful, lumbering gait the gladiator approached the center of the arena, where he would stand over two heads taller than his opponent. His bared torso was utterly marred with an equal combination of tattoos and scars from previous battles. But more intimidating than his stature and appearance, was the large, two-handed metallic mallet he rested upon his shoulder.
The announcer's voice started up once more as the two gladiators stared each other down. "As you all know, the champion is set to defend his title against three opponents in three successive matches. Each match will end when someone yields… or dies. In the event of an incapacitation, the person left standing decides the other's fate. Warriors… are you ready?"
Kar'jek unsheathed his swords and adopted his usual battle stance, rotating his body and directing the points of his blades toward his opponent. Ukajj merely lifted the weapon from his shoulder before striking the mallet's head upon the ground with a resounding thud.
"Let the match… begin!"
Kar'jek took the initiative, rushing toward his stalwart opponent, thrusting his swords forward before the giant could even lift his weapon off the ground. Resolute, Ukajj pivoted his weapon upon the mallet's head, deflecting the strike with the long handle. Following through, Kar'jek used the deflection to his advantage, maintaining his momentum. The swordsman kept the giant on the defensive, lashing out before he could get a proper grip on his own weapon.
The crowd cheered as the two did battle, everyone rapt in emotional interest. All except one, however. The Human audience member was content to watch the proceedings with a reserved smile. The two gladiators combated one another in an escalating series of maneuvers and strikes. As dexterous as the swordsman was, the giant was fully capable of defending himself. As Ukajj finally got a firm grip on his weapon, he went on the offensive.
The crowd hollered as the giant brought his mallet down upon Kar'jek, only for the swordsman to escape at the last moment. The massive weapon would impact against the ground, wracking the stone foundation with thunderous cracks. Watching the battle unfold with a keen eye, the Human started speaking to himself.
"The father is a rather capable fighter. I think he might have actually once been one of Darth Vich's crop," Thorel said.
"Ah yes, Darth Vich," Tash's voice rang out in Thorel's earpiece. "The man who discovered the Rattataki and decided to turn them into his own personal army."
"Followed by a bit of insurrection, death, and enslavement courtesy of the Dark Council. I do hope you aren't planning on achieving similar results."
"I'm not known for making mistakes, apprentice."
"Right."
The fight below was reaching a climax. Slowly but surely, Kar'jek chipped away at Ukajj's defenses. Through a chaotic grace, the swordsman lashed out with a flurry of blows, slicing into the giant's flesh little by little. As blood began to pour from the gladiator's wounds, Ukajj found it harder and harder to lift his massive weapon. Moving to his opponent's flank, Kar'jek struck the back of the giant's legs, forcing him to his knees. Not a moment later, Ukajj found two blades crossed beneath his neck. And not a moment after that, the first match was over, as the giant formally yielded.
The crowd erupted in jubilant cheers as the winning gladiator basked in the revelry, gifting a smile to the young girl who jumped and shouted from the front row.
"That concludes the first match! Victor… Kar'jek Tjensi!" the announcer declared. "But the show's not over folks. We still have two matches to go!"
A trio of nondescript Rattataki emerged from the arena's entrance to escort the first combatant from the floor. Slowly, they managed to drag the massive gladiator and his weapon back into the arena's underworkings. Kar'jek meanwhile, remained undeterred in his presence, standing as if he hadn't just spent the last few minutes in martial combat.
"Our next combatant… a rising star in the gladiator circuit. The Cloaked Dagger. The Masked Terror. Rejj Daiden!"
Emerging from the entrance like a walking shadow, the lithe Rattataki that walked out covered the majority of his flesh with tight, black clothes. His face was concealed beneath a featureless mask, a simple plate held in place by a wrapped cloth, only a single slit cut across it to grant its wearer sight.
The cloaked Rattataki gripped within his hands two black daggers, not letting his guard down even as he entered the arena. Cautiously he made his way toward the floor's center, to stand opposite Kar'jek. The cold glare of the masked gladiator cast itself upon the champion as the two awaited the start of their match. The two did not have to wait long as the announcer declared the battle commenced.
The two dashed at each other, both gladiators wielding a weapon in each hand. As the four blades lashed out at one another with utmost skill, Kar'jek appeared to pull out an early lead. The swordsman capitalized on the superior reach of his weapons, keeping a safe distance between himself and his opponent as they exchanged blows. The crowd's cheers hushed as they focused all of their attention on analyzing the two combatants.
The exchange of blades continued with no sign of either gladiator making a remarkable impact on the other. Eventually, the masked warrior stopped playing it safe. Charging forward, the dagger wielding gladiator lashed out at his opponent, slicing Kar'jek across the chest. But for his one wound, the swordsman reciprocated three upon his foe. A muffled howl rang out from beneath the gladiator's mask as he stumbled past Kar'jek, three diagonal slashes cut into his chest.
As Kar'jek turned, his looked upon his opponent with a snide grin, unfazed by the thin gash across his chest. The swordsman readied his weapons, intent on pressing his assault. Rejj focused on defense, dodging and parrying the swordsman's attacks, but never returning one of his own. The crowd returned to their boisterous cheering as their champion lashed out at the masked challenger.
Rejj dodged yet another strike, leaping backward to put a sizable distance between himself and his opponent. Just as Kar'jek was about to renew his offense, his left leg stumbled as he took a step forward. As the swordsman looked down, his vision began to blur. Shaking his head, the champion tried to focus as the crowd looked on with a hushed wonder.
"Come on, Dad! You can do it!" the young girl shouted from the sidelines. The swordsman could have sworn he heard something, but all that registered in his ears was a steady ringing.
As Kar'jek steadied his stance, he found himself under attack. A flurry of blurred daggers lashed out at him, to which he was unable to properly defend himself. Another gash opened across the swordsman's chest. Then another. One by one, Kar'jek's senses were failing him. His mind wanted to speak, but his mouth wouldn't allow him. Everything grew heavy. Everything began to fade. Looking down, Kar'jek saw the dagger that had been plunged into his chest. His swords dropped. His body followed. The roar of the crowd turned to murmurs. Then silence.
"We have a new champion!" the announcer broke the silence. "Rejj Daiden!"
"NO!" the girl in the front row screamed. "It can't be! He cheated!"
As the girl stood on the precipice of sobbing, she lost it at the sight of the arena attendants stepping out to retrieve her father's corpse. Jumping over the barrier separating the ground floor and the rows of seating, the girl rushed toward the fallen champion. Sliding to her knees, she gazed upon her father's body, dagger still sticking out of his chest. She reached out toward the weapon, when a sharp voice pounded at her senses.
"Don't touch that," the voice directed. "There's likely still venom on the dagger, as well as the wounds."
The girl immediately rose to her feet, turning upon her heels as she looked for the source of the voice. With her back turned, the attendant began to drag her father by his feet back to the underworkings of the arena. The daughter shouted a protest that fell on deaf ears. She turned her attention to the masked killer who cast his cold gaze upon her. She took a step toward him, only to find herself being dragged from the arena by an attendant. She flailed her limbs and tried to break free, but to no avail.
"With a new champion, the third match will be postponed until later in the day. Come back to see if the Masked Terror is capable of defending his new title!" the announcer declared. As the crowd lifted itself from its seating and vacated the arena, the Human watched as the cloaked victor did the same, but not before the two locked their gazes for the briefest of moments. The Human kept his subtle grin as he removed himself from the arena seating.
In one of the back rooms of the arena's underworkings, Kar'jek Tjensi's body lay upon a rocky slab. Beside him, his daughter rest on her knees, head buried in her hands as she lamented the loss of her father.
"It's not fair," the girl sobbed. Lifting her head, she slammed one of her fists against the slab. "You didn't deserve this."
Her gaze transitioned to her father's swords that leaned against the slab beside her. She reached to one, taking hold of the hilt. Even as she gripped the weapon with both of her hands, she struggled to lift the dense blade. But ever determined, she drug herself and the sword toward the room's exit.
"One should really choose the right weapon if they intend to kill," a voice rang out, the same one that had reached out to her before. This time emanating from the doorway to the rest of the arena underworkings. Though surprised, the girl kept her cool, staring at the stranger, resolute in her stance. "I'm not going to stop you, but you need to think. What kind of man killed your father? Quick. Agile. Cunning. You'll not get very far with a weapon that size. Here…" Reaching for his belt, the Human unhooked a metallic cylinder and tossed it toward the child. The girl dropped the sword just in time to catch the object. "Now careful with that. Point that end this way, and press that button…"
The girl complied, jumping when the crimson blade of energy sprung out from the handle.
"Now that, that is a proper weapon. The weapon of a warrior. That blade can cut through just about any material imaginable. Now… would you like to borrow it?"
The girl nodded.
"Alright then. Where does the champion go after a match?"
The Human and the girl walked out of the carved mountain together, lightsaber returned to its owner, the deed done. The arena was lacking a champion.
"There's a strength in you unlike anyone else in this village," Thorel stated as the pair walked. "We can ensure that strength is tested against others like yourself. Persevere, and you'll become a warrior capable of anything." The Human looked to his follower, whose gaze remained determinedly affixed ahead of her. "I think you'll like Korriban. You'll feel right at home."
The two continued their walk toward Thorel's parked shuttle a short distance away in silence. Kar'ai was heading for the Academy.