The arena roared to life as we were dragged into the blistering sunlight, the heat bouncing off the sand like a blazing inferno. My eyes immediately locked on the three beasts before us, each one a nightmare forged of muscle, claw, and primal fury.

The first was a hulking beast, something like a horned rhinoceros, its sheer size enough to make the ground tremble with every snort and step. It was massive, built for destruction, its horn gleaming wickedly under the harsh sun.

The second was an ungainly creature, resembling a walking scabbard with thick, ridged skin and brute strength that could crush anything in its path.

The third was assigned to me—a sleek, cat-like predator, its body coiled with power and precision. It hissed at me, baring dagger-like teeth, its glowing eyes burning with a feral challenge. The way it stalked toward me made one thing abundantly clear: this wasn't going to end peacefully.

Without waiting for it to make the first move, I shot forward. My foot connected with its snarling face in a swift, calculated kick, the force of it momentarily stunning the beast. With a burst of adrenaline, I vaulted over the barrier, landing with a graceful roll in the sand below.

The crowd gasped, their shocked murmurs a faint buzz beneath the cacophony of roaring cheers.

"What exactly do you have in those veins of yours?!" Anakin shouted from behind me, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and exasperation.

I threw my head back and laughed, the sheer exhilaration of the moment rushing through me. "A little too much courage, apparently!" I called back, not bothering to look at him as I turned my attention back to the lynx-like beast.

The chain binding my wrists became my weapon. With deft movements, I twisted and turned, wrapping the chain around the creature's neck. It roared in defiance, thrashing wildly, its razor-sharp claws raking at the links in a desperate attempt to free itself. But its claws, while deadly, were no match for the tempered chain.

With a calculated maneuver, I pulled the chain tighter, using my weight and momentum to twist it around the beast's limbs. It screeched, a guttural sound of frustration and pain, its movements growing sluggish as I refused to relent. The chain tightened like a serpent, choking away its fight until, at last, it collapsed lifelessly onto the sands.

The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps, their disbelief palpable. But there was no time to revel in victory.

Across the arena, Obi-Wan was facing his own beast—the scabbard-like creature. I watched as he darted and weaved, evading its clumsy but devastating strikes. His sharp mind turned the environment into a weapon, grabbing a jagged piece of stone and driving it into the beast's exposed flank with precision.

The creature roared in agony, staggering backward as the force of Obi-Wan's attack caused it to break free from the ring tethering it. It careened across the arena, stumbling and collapsing in a heap.

Obi-Wan, ever composed, vaulted away from the crumbling remains of the pillar that had bound him, landing nimbly in the sand as dust and debris filled the air.

I scanned the arena, my golden eyes darting toward Anakin and Padmé. They were still restrained, their beasts circling, the tension mounting with every heartbeat. Anakin was struggling against the chains, his frustration evident, while Padmé kept her focus, watching for an opening.

The energy in the arena was electric, the crowd baying for more blood, but I wasn't about to let this end with our defeat.

"Hold on," I muttered under my breath, my gaze locking on Anakin's predicament. The game was far from over, and I intended to turn the odds in our favor.

-

In the aftermath of the battle, the air hung heavy with the scent of blood and sweat. The once chaotic arena was now littered with the hulking forms of the defeated creatures, their bodies sprawled across the sand like fallen titans. I stood, breathing heavily, my blade still gleaming in my hand as I surveyed the scene, a quiet sense of satisfaction settling over me.

Above, on the balcony, Count Dooku observed the carnage, his eyes narrowed in judgment. Standing next to him was a man cloaked in gleaming silver armor, his posture rigid, exuding an air of authority and precision. His brown eyes, sharp and penetrating, followed my every movement as I moved gracefully around the fallen beasts, checking to ensure they were truly neutralized.

"Seems like this one got lucky," the armored man remarked, his voice low, tinged with both curiosity and wariness. There was something in his gaze that suggested he saw more than just the surface of the battle—a sense of calculation, of knowing that the victory we had earned was not merely a stroke of fortune.

Count Dooku, however, did not share the same sentiment. He huffed in apparent disdain, his hand waving dismissively as he summoned a guard to approach. The guard obediently stepped forward, holding a sword in his hands. The blade gleamed under the harsh arena lights, but there was a cruel irony to it—the sword was no longer mine. It was the one that had been pried from my grasp during the earlier confrontation.

"This is her sword," Dooku sneered, looking down at me with an air of incredulity. "She claims it's from the Queen of the Universe, and that it once belonged to her," he continued, a mocking tone in his voice, rolling his eyes as if my words were a mere child's fantasy. "Absurd."

I could feel the tension in the air, the weight of his words pressing down on me. His dismissive attitude stung, but I was unshaken. The sword was not just a weapon—it was a symbol of something far greater, a link to my past and the universe I had sworn to protect. But to him, it was just another relic, something he could scoff at.

The man in silver armor—Jango, I assumed—didn't speak right away, his gaze flicking between the sword and me. His silence held a strange sense of recognition, like he was seeing something deeper than what Dooku was willing to acknowledge. I wondered if he knew of its true power, if he felt the pull of its history as I did. But for now, his face remained unreadable, his expression guarded.

"Absurd," Dooku repeated, as though trying to convince himself. But in the way his voice wavered slightly, I caught the hint of doubt, a fleeting moment where perhaps he wondered if there was more truth to my words than he cared to admit.

I felt a chill at the question, the words hanging in the air like an unspoken threat. "How much does she cost?" Jango's voice was as cold as the gleaming silver armor that encased him, his words cutting through the tension like a blade. I stiffened instinctively, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. It was as if his question alone reduced me to a mere object, something to be bought and sold.

I had been deep in conversation with Obi-Wan and Anakin, discussing our next move, but at the sound of Jango's question, I turned toward the balcony. The view had once seemed serene, but now it felt like an oppressive watchtower, where judgments were passed without mercy.

"What?" Anakin muttered, his voice edged with disbelief, confusion flickering across his features. His sharp eyes flicked between me and the balcony, his jaw tightening in frustration. "He can't be serious—none of them own you." His voice was a low growl now, protective and fierce, as though the very notion of ownership was an affront to him.

I nodded slowly, trying to steady my breathing, trying to keep my emotions in check. Anakin's reaction made my heart ache with a warmth I hadn't expected. The way he stood by me, unyielding in his belief that I was my own, was more than I could have asked for. But the reality of the situation was clear—Jango had asked the question, and there was a sinister edge to it. Whether Dooku saw me as a pawn, a tool, or something worse, I didn't know. But I knew one thing for certain: I was not his to trade.

"You see," Dooku's voice drifted down to us from the balcony, smooth and authoritative, though there was a coldness in his tone. "The bounty hunter was merely curious. After all, such power can't come without a price. And what is a queen worth, I wonder?"

I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to lash out. The condescension in his words stung like acid, each syllable calculated to provoke, to diminish. But I refused to let him see me falter. Instead, I stood tall, shoulders squared, my eyes unwavering as I met his gaze from the distance, determined not to show weakness.

"We all have our value, Count Dooku," I replied, my voice steady despite the emotions churning beneath. "But you'll find that mine cannot be measured in credits or terms of ownership. Not here, not ever."

Anakin's hand brushed mine briefly, the gesture grounding me, reminding me that, despite everything, I was not alone in this.