Groz could hear the crowd going wild. The vibrations from the bustling people in the stands traveled from the foundation of the arena up through his feet. His stomach felt sick as time grew shorter before he was forced to enter the arena. The pounding of his heart was strong enough to see through his hairy chest. His muscles were stiff; the heat already causing his hair to be matted to his body. His presence was that of a soldier. The tunnel was hot and dry; wind blew dust up from the rock ground. His armor lay still next to him as though anticipating the action soon to arise.
He fell to one knee and dropped his head as a few beads of sweat slowly ran down his face before they dropped to the dirt. Just for a moment, the world became still and all the noise that had once filled his head was silent; a second to clear his head of the jolting, repulsive thoughts that overwhelmed him. The image the cargo ship being boarded by pirates and the bounty hunter Trex; Groz being sold to Teemu and his Wookiee crew likely sent to a labour camp in a nearby system. Nothing would stop him from tracking down his fellow Wookiee and returning them to Kashyyyk; the thought of abondoning them was unbearable. He had a plan to escape Mos Shuuta, he just needed to survive the arena yet be wounded enough to need the medical drone.
For some it was a choice to fight but for him, it was something he was forced to do. The respect and honor he had felt during battle was absent in this arena fighting for Teemu’s enjoyment and profit. At 2.1 meters tall, Groz might have towered over most of his foes, but he was still short for a Wookiee. Short enough, that back home his squad had given him the callsign ‘Ewok’.
According to Teemu the Hutt legends were made in his arena. Big, small, tall, short, fat, skinny…creatures of all kinds fought here to prove themselves to the galaxy, Teemu would say. That was all bantha dung. Creatures fought for Teemu’s profit and enjoyment only. This would not be just another spectacle this time. This was spectacle was to celebrate the anniversary of Teemu’s arrival on Mos Shuuta. As he rose back to his feet, he could now see the beasts who had entered the area before him. Massive beasts paced back and forth in the center of the ring. Grusome amounts of saliva dripped from their jaws. Their demeanor was beyond that of anxiousness and a look of hunger filled their eyes. It would be a gruesome battle none the less. He picked up his blade, gave a Wookiee war cry and strode out into the arena.
Groz along with all the other gladiators, both criminals and non, flooded the area and the crowd drowned out the sound of the growling beasts and the swords clashing against one another. His adrenaline pumped so fast it was hard to control and he was breathing so heavily that he grunted with every swing of his blade. Groz was so busy fighting off every blade that came his way that he did not notice he had been cut on his lower back. Whips and knives and swords and weapons of every kind came from every direction. There was no time to stop to see how badly he was injured. Bodies started dropping left and right. Groz was a Wookiee, unlike other races he only grew stronger the more wounded he became. A red haze of rage came over Groz.
Next he knew he was being escorted to the infirmary.
“Patient racial profile scan complete” reported the old DD-13 surgical drone.
“Loading Ewok biological profile. Patient appears to be suffering from a laceration to the back and gigantism.”
Seconds later, the sound of a Wookiee roar and the crash of metal filled the air. Teemu’s goons found the DD-13 droid was lying in a heap of metal in the corner of the medbay. Undetected by them one of it’s surgical vibroknives missing.