In the crowd, Rogers' rescuers watched with tense anticipation. Every instinct urged them to rush in and save him, but the collar around his neck made any hasty action potentially fatal.
There was no doubt that if they moved too quickly, his captors would execute him before their eyes.
"Think we should place a friendly wager?" Scorch asked quietly, nudging Quinlan. "I'll bet he takes down the rancor with a spear thrust."
"Is your brain actually fried?" Vos asked dryly. "We're here to rescue him, not gamble with his life."
Scorch chuckled. "He'll be fine with us watching his back. Just trying to lighten the mood."
The Jedi stared at his demolitions expert for a moment.
"You lost credits to Fixer again, didn't you?"
"I'd rather not discuss it."
"That's definitely a yes."
"He's cheating, I swear," Scorch complained like a petulant child. "It's not fair!"
"You're such an amateur," Vos said, shaking his head.
After a moment, Quinlan produced a credit chip. "Alright, small wager then."
"You two are idiots," Sam said with exasperation.
"Any progress on disabling the collar?" T'Challa asked, ignoring their antics and focusing on Steve, who had just narrowly avoided the rancor's claws.
Meanwhile, Natasha, Fixer, and Scott encountered resistance from security droids, which they quickly eliminated.
"Problem is, we don't know what we're looking for."
Fixer shot down the last security droid in their corridor. "Control console's the logical target, probably has a master override device."
"We don't even know what it looks like," Natasha pointed out.
"Search every level systematically."
"Wait..." Scott stopped mid-stride, causing his companions to halt as well. "Everyone fighting here has one of these collars, right?"
Natasha and Fixer exchanged glances before looking back at the former thief, who nodded knowingly.
"So... shouldn't we find whoever's holding the control devices for all these collars?"
"I hate that we didn't think of this immediately," Natasha muttered, feeling foolish.
Fixer chuckled. "Always frustrating when we overcomplicate the obvious."
"Where's the most likely location for these control operators?" Scott asked.
Keeping their comm channel open, the others heard the conversation, and Khaleen provided the answer.
"Northern section of the arena," Khaleen responded quickly. "But it's heavily fortified."
"Won't be a problem," Natasha said confidently. "When you see the collar deactivate, move in."
"Understood," came the collective response from those positioned in the audience.
The three infiltrators advanced toward the arena's northern end, eventually reaching the corridor leading to the primary viewing box.
Scott shrank down and perched on Fixer's shoulder while the commando positioned himself at the corner. Natasha crouched beside them for reconnaissance.
"Ten guards," Natasha counted quickly.
"Gamorreans," Fixer identified, studying the sentries. "Tough little bastards with thick hide."
"Think they're as durable as battle droids?" Scott asked.
"Only one way to find out."
Scott adjusted his position carefully.
"Give me a boost," Scott requested.
Moments later, Scott launched himself toward the nearest Gamorrean.
The pig-like biped he was approaching squinted briefly, thinking it glimpsed something small in its peripheral vision.
An instant later, the guard was struck and collapsed unconscious.
Scott expanded to full size, startling the remaining guards, then immediately shrank again.
Another Gamorrean suddenly stumbled, and then reinforcements arrived.
Fixer and Natasha charged the confused pig-guards and, together with Scott, eliminated them in rapid succession.
They stood among the fallen sentries.
"For oversized pig-men, they weren't particularly challenging," Scott said with a shrug.
Fixer laughed while Natasha activated her comm unit.
"We're outside the control room," Natasha reported to the team. "What's Steve's status?"
"Well, Scorch just won some credits," Anakin said with amusement, clone laughter audible in the background. "You'd better hurry, Steve's now facing another rancor, and this time there are two of them."
Without hesitation, the green-armored clone commando retrieved three charges from his pack.
"On my Mak, we breach the room," Fixer announced, placing explosives on the door.
Once everything was prepared, the others took cover to avoid the impending blast.
Fixer counted down before detonating the charges.
BOOM
"What the, !"
Hearing screams from within, the team rushed in with weapons ready.
Seeing the intruders, the arena's operators began firing at them. Their leader turned just in time to be struck by flying debris from the explosion.
The man collapsed unconscious as blaster fire and chaos consumed his observation deck above the arena.
The rest of his entourage was quickly subdued by Scott, Natasha, and Fixer at the entrance. They lowered their weapons and surveyed the room's contents with slight embarrassment.
The space was filled primarily with drunk gamblers and scantily clad entertainment staff. Scott quickly focused on the ceiling as if something fascinating was up there, making sure to think about Hope to avoid looking at the barely clothed women.
"I think you know what you should do now," Natasha said matter-of-factly.
Within moments, the surviving occupants fled straight for the door and rushed from the room, leaving the three behind.
"So, what exactly are we searching for?" Scott asked, examining their handiwork.
Fixer was already checking the bodies nearest to him.
Natasha studied the numerous figures scattered across the floor until her gaze settled on the ground before the room's most luxurious seating area.
Without a word, she approached the unconscious leader and began searching his pockets until she extracted some kind of remote control device.
"Fixer," Natasha called, tossing him the device she'd found.
Catching it, he examined the control for a moment before smiling and nodding beneath his helmet.
"This is exactly what we needed," Fixer announced.
As he spoke, they heard the crowd's roar intensify.
They looked through the observation window and saw Steve standing over the rancor's corpse, facing another massive predator.
Only this rancor wasn't alone.
The arena now contained several nexu, a reek, another acklay, and Corellian hounds.
"What the hell?" Scott shouted in shock. "How did they all get released?"
Fixer looked down at the remote and noticed several buttons in the lower section were illuminated, then glanced back at the unconscious operator.
"Whether intentional or accidental, that bastard's the reason they're all loose," Fixer said.
"Can you identify Steve's collar frequency?" Natasha asked the clone commando, who nodded and pressed the central button on the remote.
From their vantage point, they watched a momentarily confused Captain America reach up and touch his neck as the death collar's restraining mechanism deactivated.
"Now we can help him," Natasha announced, raising her wrist comm. "Ladies and gentlemen, that's our cue."