The Pits of Rattatak

[Zef Halo]

Orkrik's Pool,
Rattatak

His arrival on Rattatak like any other stranger's arrival on the harsh planet was met with supreme resistance and attempts on his life. That was how the welcoming parties worked on this rotten planet of blood and tears. Easily overpowered by the dark side of the Force, the petty minions were soon replaced with an invitation to the 'throne' of Warlord Orkrik.

Heim and the escorts' steps echoed through the dark corridor through which light was only shed at the dozen periodical holes to reveal the nature of the ground - sand. Sand that was stained with dry blood. The arid and heavy air that was typical of the planet was full with the stench of sweat. The Sith Knight perfectly knew what this place was and where the Warlord's 'throne' was. A gladiator arena. One of the thousands arenas that dotted the surface of Rattatak where fights to the death occurred. These gladiatorial battles were what Rattatak was mainly known for. A dry planet divided by bloodthirsty warlords and their minions in an never ending fight.

"Chief. Here." The Weequay behind him said. Keeping the distance of dozen feet from the Sith intact. As if staying away from the Lorrdian would save him from death.

Heim pushed the old but sturdy doors open to reveal a barren throne room. No decorations at all, empty as the pits where the gladiators fought. Only beings walking around tending to their responsibilities. Nonetheless, the way the hall was made was obvious that this was a throne room. A long room where a throne was located at the furthest side from the door. Not much width existed, especially with the shadows covering the side walls. Even the Sith Knight could not make out when the side walls finished, he could not see them. The room could be much wider than expected. A glass window with numerous cracks was from where the sun rays entered and lit the room but also throwing long shadows.

"Sith." The neutral tone of the Warlord was clearly heard over to where Heim who was making his way towards the throne. The Warlord's tone although blunt did not have a hint of spite towards the Lorrdian.

The cloaked Sith strode forward and the passing figures around would halt and lay their eyes on the man. He could feel the eyes of fear, of curiosity, of hate, of respect all around him. Finally, at a closer distance, Heim would utter:

"Warlord."

The large figure sitting on the throne finally revealed his face and the rest of his bulky and scarred body to reveal a Dashade with a smirk on his face. The Sith Knight could neither feel through the force nor read through kinetic communication any fear within the Warlord.

"I welcome you."

"Let's cut the semantics short, Warlord."

"Good, I was already getting tired of them." ​Orkrik replied with a slight smirk and beckoned Heim to follow him somewhere into the shadows of the throne room. "There will be bread and circuses soon, follow me."

With a slight nod, the Sith Knight followed the Warlord and so did a group of guards that escorted them. Heim was glad that the Warlord was a man direct to the point but the Lorrdian's only obstacle was that the Dashade did not hint any fear towards the Sith.

That should change.

 

[Zef Halo]

Orkrik's metal steps on the floor echoed the Dashade's massive weight as both men and the escort made their way through the complex of the warlord. Heim's eyes fell upon both guards and what he could read from both were commitment to the large figure of Orkrik. That was something interesting to witness on such a lawless planet as Rattatak where every man was for himself. Perhaps there was something special with this Orkrik after all.

A massive double door like the one he had previously used to enter the throne room of the warlord stood in their way and with ease the Dashade pushed the doors wide open. Sand lingered from the top of it, an unusually loud creaking voice followed along with the rays of light that made the Sith scowl. He had just gotten used to the rather dimly lit palace of Orkrik.

Both stepped forward unto a large terrace that was by far a contrast to the whole spartan environment within the Dashade's palace. Exotic food, exotic women, servants and all the jazz that came usually part of a Hutt's entourage. This truly surprised him and Heim grew mixed feelings of the Dashade beside him. He was hard to read as a personality, he showed one thing then the completely different thing. He was an anomaly and he was unpredictable. It made Heim admire him and despise him. It made Orkrik a dangerous opponent to face. The poet had to keep his senses open if he was to win.

"Orkrik's Pool, Sith." The large warlord waved his arm at the gladiator arena that was average in size but full with people. "You've arrived just in time for the beginning of the games." Orkrik sat down on his rather large but uncomfortable looking seat and gestured to Heim to take a seat beside him. "Enjoy the hospitality that I offer you."

"Certainly." The Sith Knight smirked and took a seat besides the Dashade. "Will the-"

"IN.
THE
NAME
OF
GOD~"

What the..?

A yell broke through the crowd's chattering and the dialogue going on between the two men. Its source - a simply dressed man in the middle of the gladiatorial pit.

"Just watch." Orkrik said. The command in his voice aggravated the Sith but the next words spoken from the Dashade made Heim smirk victoriously. "Take your chits out and let's gamble."


Perhaps Heim would not have to siphon the life out of Orkrik to gain his servitude.

Perhaps.

 

[Zef Halo]

"...Jitheer, the Beast of Togoria!!!" A voice boomed through the numerous speakers around the arena followed by the cheering yells of the audience. "On the other side stands the underdog, of course, Bruce the Mad!!"

"I COME FORTH TO BRING GOD'S WORD!!! I MUST PURGE THEE, HEATHEN!!" Bruce's voice crackled through the air, even louder than the commentator. A loud hateful boo was followed from the crowd. Heim slightly fell a ripple in the Force and frowned focusing upon it.

"A thousand on Jitheer." Orkrik's deep voice cut his concentration and brought him back from the flow of the ethereal. "Make it two thousand on Jither to draw first blood."

"Big sums, Warlord. Are you sure you will be able to pay them ?" Heim bit at the Dashade who in response grumbled something between a grunt and a scoff. "Five thousand on Bruce." A few gasps were heard from behind and the Warlord erupted into laughter. His servants as well.

"Have you come to lose your belongings, Sith ? That is the way to do so."

"The guy's so insane, he did not choose any weapon to fight the Togorian." A comment made by a near-human in the entourage of Warlord was heard followed by a few nods of approval.

"Let us just enjoy the blood that will be shed, Warlord." Heim smirked as he tossed a satchel of credit chits on the table between them. The Dashade did the same.

"BEGIN." Orkrik shouted from the bottom of his lungs and silence engulfed the crowd as the two combatants preyed on each other. Bruce's movements looked ridiculous. The crowd saw that and laughter followed. None knew, except for Heim, that Bruce the Mad had a weapon other than his fists and Jitheer's two blades would not save him from that weapon.

Bruce had the Force.