The Rebel Faction

The matches began, young and old alike meeting in the center of the circle, The gong striking, the battles beginning. There were 32 matches being fought at the same time, in different rings around the arena. Dante sat quietly in the back of the arena, on his dais, watching the contests. These were all master shockboxers, representing all the evolutions of master Khan's art. The zap of the shockboxing gloves filled the arena, the crackling cutting the air easily.
The crowds were going wild as this round ended, and another began. Those who were eliminated were brought before Dante, sitting below him on the dais, medics attending to them. Teh gong struck again, the next group of combatants taking their places. The first 32 rounds of the contest went long, and it was becoming late in the night, but the barabel hadn't even considered moving from their seats.
Sixteen more rounds would pass, the first of the quarter final combats. and the number of warrriors still participating was halved yet again. The next series of quarter final matches dropped the number by half again, leaving a 128 contenders left in teh game.

Dante rose to his feet, striking teh gong. "We call a hold to our actions to permit rest for all competitors this evening. The warriors will be sleeping here this evening, i bid you all return early in the morning, as teh first rays of light come across the bay." Dante turned, the staff of medics and warriors moving down ramps, coming to chamber s that had been prepared for them, medics tending to the freshly wounded, everyone tired yet exhilirated. Tomorrow would see the end of this, and the crowning of a new champion.

Dante sat quietly in meditation, remembering the man that he had seen when the barabel had taken him to the monastery in the crowd, something odd abotu him, something strange. Whatever it was, it would revela itself in time

Dante awoke from his meditations quietly, eyes adjusting to the dim light. His students had brought him into the down below with the rest of the warriors, he was sitting in the midst of them, some were sleeping, preparing for the day to come, others were sitting together, telling stories, younger warriors listening to the battle wisdom of their elders. He felt at home for the first time in a while, surrounded by likeminded spirits, it made him feel at ease, moreso than he was around humans.

His gaze turned, his pale skin almost the shade of snow in the darkness of the sleeping chambers. He had felt the human move through his students, not sure how, not sure why, he had felt him, but he knew this man would come, he knew not why, but it appeared that fate intended for them to meet.

He sat quietly, white robe loose around his body, scars of old battles evident. The small metal cylinder was at his belt, the longer cylinder, obviously the hilt of a lightsaber, rested against it, his neck bearing a chain with crystals on it. His icy blue eyes studied the human as he approached, his senses keyed to him at this moment, the rest of the room fading from vision.

"What can i do for you?" he said quietly, offering the man a seat.

"You make the assumption of my species, it is unwise. I may be the same height, the same general weight with an appearance resembling humanity, but as far as i know, my species is unknown."

His gaze turned, studying the Shockboxers around him, seeing most of them turn in for the evening, the spirit of competition appeased for one night.

"yes, i am Dante Khan, all though by the end of tomorrow i will be Dante again, The Khan becoming one of the men around us." He rose to his feet, silently, robe pulling up tightly around him. "If you wish to speak, let us go outside so as not to disturb them." He pointed towards the door, waiting for his decision.

Blackkon smiled and walked with Dante, his duffel over his shoulder once again. "I simply refer to you as human for ease of conversation. If you had actually been human then the young smuggler who attempted to join the tournament would have been allowed. But no matter."

As they walked they both saw the man waiting by the arena exits. The former Admiral's mind recognized him and identified him. Ace Lohan, former smuggler from the recently disbanded Solo Syndicate. He was gesturing to Blackkon and Dante, indicating he wished to speak to them. "Interesting," Arthorn thought.

He straightened slightly in proper military fashion before speaking. "Greetings Mr. Lohan. You may not recognize me from my former work but I'm Arthorn Blakkon. I used to be an Admiral in the New Alliance. How can I help you?"

Arthorn left Dante's introduction to himself. If the unknown wished to be known he would handle it. Inside Blackkon was chuckling to himself. He'd fully intended to recruit the young smuggler from earlier, and now he was being approached by another. An odd coincidence.

Niox was exiting the arena when he saw a group of three men, one looking very much like a smuggler himself, discussing something. Niox was a bit out of the loop and since he couldn't fight, thought he might be able to get a job out of it. He walked over to the group and said, "Hello gentlemen, I'm Niox. I noticed this fellow over here looks like a smuggler. I am as well, and I'm always looking for a job. Could you use my services for something?"