Unlike Elytra's first opponent, this one was far less hesitant behind the controls of a mech. They came rocketing out of the loading bay the moment the announcer's horn had sounded, opening fire as they advanced, forcing Elytra to go on the defensive right out the gate. She darted across the open arena, jinking through her enemy's fire, pulsing her shields to take the worst of the damage while not draining them needlessly in the opening volley of the match.
Throwing her mech into a leap, she took the opportunity to return fire, and her foe evaded what they could while being conservative with their shield use. A far cry from how her first opponent handled things.
Ammunition could only last for so long, and between the distance one needed to maintain an optimal firing vector, and the effectiveness of a mech's shields, it was rare for mechs to be taken out from long range in one-on-one combat. Getting in close range to destroy an enemy mech was something the training sims had drilled into the captives, and so after a few more rounds of gunfire, Elytra and her opponent closed into melee range to try and bring this match to an end.
Their energy sabres screamed against one another as they parried blow after blow, circling one another to try and gain some type of advantage. The pilot in purple pulled a risky manoeuver, firing their thrusters to crash into Elytra's mech. She brought up her shields long enough to absorb the brunt of the impact, trying to tuck and roll away from her enemy's downswing, but they'd accounted for that, pinning her in place with one foot against her mech's torso while they brought their sabre down in a finishing blow.
But Elytra was quicker, using her own sabre to deflect the attack above her mech's head, and throwing her enemy's balance off in the process. As the purple mech stumbled forward, she jammed her own mech's foot into its midriff, tipping it forward enough to send the mech hurtling face-first into the ground.
Sadly, this wasn't enough to incapacitate the purple mech, but it did give Elytra enough time to scramble forward, deactivating her blade as she went, and blocking the wide swing of the purple mech's sword arm with her off hand. Then, jamming the hilt of her sabre into the purple mech's sensor array, too close for the shields to defend against, she reactivated her blade, decisively ending the match.
And bringing her and Pryseia that much closer to escape.
The next morning, Pryseia was summoned for a bout, along with three others. This left only Elytra and three others behind for eating and socialization time, with none of them actually interested in socializing.
The pilot in green for round two ended up coming out as the victor, despite a nasty slash they took across their mech's middle. A slash that they should have avoided, only they'd purposefully deflected the blow so that it would make contact. With the way she'd been training her observation skills, Elytra knew this was Pryseia sending a message - she'd have Elytra striking true regardless of how skilled a pilot she actually was.
It was comforting, in a morbid way.
The day after, Elytra was called for a match again. Two once more, with Elytra in purple for the second round.
She and her opponent seemed to have the same goal of bringing the bout to a quick end, the both of them flying at each other the moment the call to begin sounded through the arena, foregoing their long range weaponry as they activated their blades, clashing in the centre of the ring.
The pilot in green had clearly been hoping their their aggression would carry them through to an instant victory, because as soon as Elytra pressed in with more complicated swordplay, her opponent began swinging wildly. They may as well have been shouting what technique they were going to use before every strike, the way they were telegraphing their blows so transparently.
In no time at all, Elytra had managed to circle behind the enemy mech, and grabbing its sensor array in both hands, she tore it from its body. As the headless mech toppled to the ground at her feet, Elytra turned her own around and headed off to the loading bay, casually tossing the severed array over her mech's shoulder as she went.
The crowd in the stands lost their minds over that.
And later that night, when Elytra was on the edge of sleep, she felt a winter-keen burst of pride come from the socialization area.
The twenty third day Elytra had been in the baithaizan facility dawned with no names called. Instead, all four remaining combatants would be in matches today.
Breakfast was a tense affair. Of the other two aliens, one looked ready to start a fight then and there.
And they just so happened to be seated at the same table as Pryseia.
The alien was talking too quietly to be heard across the empty space of the room, but with the deadly grin that Pryseia shot their way, it couldn't have been anything complementary. The woman responded with something clearly in kind, because the alien stiffened before hunching forward to mutter something else. The alien then grew louder, as the slow, predatory grin that bloomed across Pryseia's features was clearly not the reaction they had expected.
"I'll wipe that stupid fucking smirk off your face!" They eventually bellowed, standing so sharply from their chair that it was sent crashing to the ground.
The few reaming guards in the walkways above were quick to rush over, and an instant later the alien's collar was tugging them off to a different table. They shouted every step of the way, choking against their restraint, and Pryseia watched them go with a manic glint in her eye. She didn't do anything to follow after them, but Elytra could feel the killing intent rolling off her in waves.
"Your people have a saying, yes? About putting your money where your mouth is? Something you would do well to make good on, should we find ourselves opposed one another in the arena today." Pryseia said with all the casualness of a pleasant conversation between coworkers. The guards in the walkways glanced towards one of their own, one who had more red than teal on their uniform, and they touched one of their hands to their helmet, as if they were activating some kind of communication device.
And then Elytra realized what the other woman had done.
There were four opponents left, two per match. If it was a random assignment, then it could have wound up with Pryseia and Elytra facing off today. For Pryseia's plans, she needed Elytra in the Odazaen. But for Elytra to escape, she needed Pryseia here in this facility, not carted off to who knew where. By enraging this alien, Pryseia had just guaranteed that the two of them wouldn't be facing one another this day.
The thought of this bullet dodged had Elytra almost feeling lightheaded.
Thankfully, the rest of breakfast went by much quieter, and when they were lined up to be brought to the hangar bays where their mechs for the day lay in wait, the aggressive alien was at the front of the line, while Pryseia was in the back, right behind Elytra.
No doubt because of their little showdown in the feeding area, Pryseia and the aggressive alien were the first match of the day. Not that any names were named, but with how the purple mech was being thrown into every attack so recklessly, the green mech dancing infuriatingly out of the way at every last moment, Elytra knew it couldn't be anyone else.
Especially when the green mech achieved victory by causing purple to trip over itself and shear its sensor array off with its own blade. An embarrassing way to go.
Soon enough it was Elytra's turn, and she stepped out into the arena in green once more.
Her opponent was good. They were careful with their shields, deflected with their blade what they couldn't dodge, and pressed every opportunity they could find.
But what Pryseia had said the other day rang true - Elytra could see that they didn't have their heart in it, why bother when all that lay before them was slavery or death? Fuelled by the promise of escape, now only one match away, Elytra achieved victory by severing the arms from the enemy mech's body.
And later that evening, when it was just the two of them left at the evening meal, triumph was howling off of Pryseia like a midwinter storm.