Combat Master’s Note: Because you are matched against a member of your Clan, this battle takes on a unique format. You and your ally will be encountering three bounty hunters that have been trained to kill Jedi. Treat these bounty hunters as you would any other ACC opponent. In addition, note that your character is unaware of the nature or history of the bounty hunters you will be facing. You will recognize their armor and their weapons as Mandalorian in nature, but you will not know their true identities or motivations. You will be judged using the ACC rubric, so the person posting the best story will move on to subsequent rounds. If you wish to fight your Clanmate as well, you may, but this is not a requirement.

One month. The Dark Crusade’s latest conquest has cost one month of time and much more in terms of sacrifice. Sith, Krath, and Obelisk warriors from across the Dark Brotherhood have fallen in combat and withdrawn from the dusty plains of Begeren. Rivals from within the Brotherhood and external One Sith forces have reduced the once proud field of ninety elite warriors to just four. Guided by the Force, impatience, or a mix of both, the remaining combatants have been drawn to the final stages of their quest.

The palace’s main gates were barred and sealed; ancient Sith magics seemed to hold them in place, and even lightsabers couldn’t open them. However, you noticed another entrance, far above this one, accessible via a long bridge into the cliffside. Not long after, you were there, standing before a massive stone bridge built to reach one of the palisades of the gleaming palace. In the distance, you can tell One Sith activity has greatly increased on the palace; soldiers and cloaked figures can now be seen on the palace superstructure along terraces, moving hurriedly in unknown tasks. All activity seems to spiral up towards a massive, single tower. Even from here, before reaching the palace, the dark side can be felt snaking down from the top of spire. Whatever the One Sith are up to here on Begeren, this is the center of it.

Your eyes take in the fine craftsmanship of the bridge and its impressive scale, but your heart sinks at the sight of multiple sections that have fallen into ruin. Built of stone and mortar, the massive structure serves as the only passage across a deep and treacherous chasm. Expansive gaps, rubble, and debris litter the length of the bridge. Skeletons, long stripped of their flesh, sit in their final resting place, giving the impression that a great battle had once occurred to protect the ancient palace resting just beyond its reach.

You sense your ally as they approach and offer a subtle head nod in greeting. The two of you watch with little enjoyment as lightning strikes, the horizon holding torrential rains and gusting winds as an immense storm spreads across it, rolling menacingly towards the palace. The bridge before you groans as the strong winds force it to sway slightly, pieces of rubble falling into the dark chasm below. The first drops of rain patter off of your robes as you step onto the bridge and begin to move towards the conclusion of your Begeren journey. Far in the distance, you notice the One Sith soldiers guarding the door slip inside the structure; whether it was your presence, or the impending storm, you are briefly unsure. Moments later, a lightning strike behind you sends a large chunk of bridge flying into the abyss below. Instantly, you realize this bridge is doomed – whatever storm is overtaking Begeren, the bridge is sure to be destroyed… and you with it, if you don’t get to the palace.

You and your ally begin to run with a determined purpose across the increasingly slippery surface, and you pull your robes tighter around your throat as a slight chill enters the air. You glance at your ally and notice that they, too, have pulled their robes tighter around their shoulders. As the rain pours down around you, it is as if the dark side itself is enveloping the area, and you feel a twitch in the Force. Realizing it is more than a chill, your hand drops to your lightsaber at nearly the same moment as your companion.

The orange glow of jetpacks silhouetted against the increasingly dark sky signal the arrival of three unknown combatants. Dressed in Mandalorian armor, the warriors’ presence reveals a sense of grim determination. You and your ally simultaneously understand that whoever these beings are, they have come to prevent you from leaving the bridge before it collapses.

Keirdagh skidded to a halt on the slick stones high above the ground and was dimly aware of Kincaid doing the same. Taking a moment to survey the unwelcome visitors, Keirdagh could do nothing but curse under his breath. The trio ahead wore the Mandalorian beskar'gam as though it were a true iron skin.

In recent years, the had been an almost folk revival within the Brotherhood's ranks of pretenders to the grand Mandalorian tradition. All of those fools draped their iron from their bodies, and pretended to know what it was to be a warrior, mocking the people who they supposedly revered through their insolence.

The three ahead on the other hand, did not appear to be pretenders of a lost culture. They appeared to be every bit the heirs to the people who had shaken the galaxy to its very knees in the Mandalorian Wars. In this trio, Keirdagh could see every bit of the ruthless efficiency and skill that had earned their people the reputation of Jedi killers, and he knew immediately that fighting one of these men on his best day would be challenging. Fighting three would be nearly impossible.

"Shavit Kincaid," muttered Keirdagh, "I hope the old man taught you well, because we're deep in it now."

The other man just hefted his lightsaber and narrowed his eyes. "Stow it old man. Let's just get this done." Taking no further delay, Kincaid sprang forward to the attack. Groaning at the lack of planning, or thought in the maneuver, Keirdagh rushed behind him, trying to plan ahead. He'd never faced serious combat with just Kincaid before. The last time they had to work together was that ill-fated mission to Bosthirda, and even then, the enigmatic apprentice of Cotelin had spent much of the mission off on his own.

Still, it was clear to the old Master that if they were going to survive this day, they would need to lean on each other's skills. It was a sentiment that the Mandalorians seemed to share. Even as the duo of Dark Jedi rushed forward, the three armored men split in what appeared to be a synchronous movement. The tallest of the three activated his rocket pack and vaulted to the top of the parapet looking down over the bridge, even as the other two drew their swords and began advancing in a slow, measured step that was completely the opposite of Kincaid's mad cap rush. As the distance between the groups quickly contracted, the rain grew ever more fierce. Coupled with the nearly gale force gusts, this was not a location where Keirdagh wished for a protracted fight.

Making up his mind to try to end the fight as quickly as possible, Keirdagh reached out with his mind and sent a crushing blow into the side of Mandalorian distinguished by three gashes on his shoulder. The full fury of the Dark Jedi Master's blow crunched into the man, causing an audible clank even over the furious din of the storm. One down thought Keirdagh to himself.

The loss of his ally didn't seem to faze the warrior who still stood on the bridge way, blocking the onrushing path of the two. Even as Kincaid shifted weight to engage the straggler blade to blade, the man who had retreated to the high-ground started cutting into the stone in front of the Dark Jedi with his blaster. The two Dark Jedi halted their rush as an ominous crack sounded from beneath them. Holding his saber aloft, Keirdagh made ready to protect Kincaid from the withering hail of fire. "Get at the swordsman, I'll deal with up high."

Even as he finished the sentence though, he knew he'd made a massive mistake in underestimating his foes. With a hiss of evaporating rainfall, a stream of flame shot toward his back. The warrior whom he'd thrown overboard had neatly recovered, and placed the Dark Jedi in a cross fire.

"Shavit."

Kincaid heard Keirdagh's muttered curse, but was already well aware of the situation. In truth, since the battle had begun he had kept a firm track of all three opponents with the edge of his awareness. "Slash", the one with gouged armor Keirdagh had thrown, seemingly used his jetpacks to fly around the bridge and reappear behind them, giving him the perfect chance to pincer the two Jedi. Mandalorians were well trained, battle-tested, and impeccably equipped—it was a bad idea to underestimate their skills.

As the gout of flames neared, Kincaid willed strength into his legs and kicked off the ground, flipping over his opponent. Stripes stabbed upwards with his shortsword, but he lacked reach and the blade was easily parried. After blocking, Kincaid felt something hard coil around his chest. "Legs", the Mandalorian who had flown up to the parapets at the start of the battle, had launched his fibercord whip from his right gauntlet and bound Kincaid in midair. Before he could use his lightsaber to cut the cord, Legs ignited the boosters on his jetpack. With a powerful jerk, Kincaid was ripped through the air dragged behind the Mandalorian.

Below, Keirdagh was still dealing with Slash. He dove to the left to avoid the flames, rolling towards the edge of the bridge. As the flames chased after him, he reached out towards a small piece of debris and used the Force to launch it towards the Mandalorian. Slash's flames abruptly disappeared as he rolled out of the way. He quickly returned to his feet and raised his left gauntlet. The gauntlet clicked and a mini-rocket exploded outwards straight at Keirdagh.

“Ah, hell.”

Reacting with preternatural speed, Keirdagh sent a wall of power to intercept the rocket, forcing it to explode a few meters away. The power of the blast slammed into Keirdagh, but he braced himself, taking on the force of the explosion with fierce resolve. It was an exceptional show of power and will, but already Stripes was making his move. Losing Kincaid as an opponent, Stripes honed in on Keirdagh, waiting for his ally's attack to buy him an opening, then rushed in to strike with his shortsword raised high.

Kincaid was still being dragged along in midair, entangled in the fibercord as the Mandalorian zigzagged through the air. He was well aware of Keirdagh's situation on the ground, but there was little he could do at the moment. They were currently too high up for him to simply cut the tether—the gale force wind would likely blow him right into the abyss. Gritting his teeth against the pain of the buffeting winds and harsh flying, Kincaid bided his time.

At last, Legs seemed ready to join the rest of the fight. He spun around in the air and aimed himself at the bridge, diving downwards at incredible speed. Wind ripped at Kincaid's robes and hair, nearly blinding him with its strength. The bridge was coming up fast and he quickly realized that Legs intended to pull up right before hitting the ground and detaching the cord wrapped around Kincaid sending him face-first into the bridge's stone surface.

As Legs accelerated further, Kincaid allowed his eyes to close. He needed perfect timing, and watching their descent was just a distraction. In his minds' eye, he tracked their speed and the distance between them and the bridge, the Force filling in the details intuitively. They were only seconds away when Kincaid felt it. It was time.

Drawing on his power, Kincaid waited until just before the Mandalorian pulled up from his dive to unleashed a wave of telekinetic energy. The power slammed into the Mandalorian hard, stunning him momentarily and serving to push Kincaid higher into the air. With a deft spin of his lightsaber, Kincaid cut free of the fibercord as Legs crashed heavily into the bridge. Kincaid hit the ground a moment later, the fall slightly cushioned from his telekinetic blast, and rolled across the rain-slicked surface. Using the momentum of his roll, Kincaid sprung up and leapt towards the dazed Mandalorians back. In midair, he raised his lightsaber high overhead, holding the blade with both hands, then stabbed downwards into the Mandalorian's neck, right through the thin gap between the armor of his helmet and chest plate.

Wearily, Kincaid raised himself to his feet, breathing heavily. He sensed a brief burst of pain through the Force, followed by a wave of hatred and killing intent. The other two Mandalorians had witnessed their ally's death. Turning towards them, Kincaid saw Keirdagh standing between the remaining two, surrounded by his lightsaber and three other blades, which were spinning in a tight circle around him.

In a blink, the golden lightsaber lashed out like a bullet, aiming to pierce Slash before he could release another volley of fire. However, the Mandalorian raised his gauntleted fist just as the blade fell on him. His fist closed around the golden blade, stopping it dead still. Shock briefly filtered through Kincaid's consciousness, but he wasn't sure if it was his own or Keirdagh's.

Before either could react, Slash reached out with his other hand and grabbed the hilt of the lightsaber. The exquisitely crafted metal released a high-pitched creak… and then crumpled. The Mandalorian had crushed the hilt into scrap. That's when it happened. Kincaid felt as if something had snapped. His eyes turned back to Keirdagh, who had just watched his golden lightsaber—one of the highest honors bestowed by the Brotherhood—destroyed by a mere Mandalorian. Kincaid had had little opportunity to witness such an event:

Keirdagh Cantor was pissed.

The tempestuous night stilled, and was replaced by a blinding, pure light. All threat and notion of worry, or physical discomfort left the Dark Jedi Master's body, and he relaxed back into the beautiful oasis of calm and peace. It was such a rare delight for the old man, that despite having gone through life as brutally and dangerously as he had he had only glimpsed this haven three times before. It was his home, his true centre. It was where he felt most comfortable and calm in the entire universe.

Keirdagh Taldrya Cantor had become one with his rage.

Opening his eyes once more, the bearded Dark Jedi Master took in the scene around him. Lightning crackled above like a deranged god was constantly flicking the light switch on and off. Rain ferociously pounded the crumbling stones like waves against the shore, and wind howled like some long abandoned spirit desperately trying to get free, and all of it seemed to dance along in tune with the rage that thundered through his veins.

Whereas before, he knew he'd been fighting two of the Mandalorian scum, now he was left with only one target. Only one person in the entire universe held any interest to him whatsoever: the man in the striped armor in front of him, who had just destroyed his saber. In a burst of movement, Keirdagh rushed forward and engaged the Mandalorian in hand to hand combat.

With barely controlled ferocity, Keirdagh rained blows down upon the armored shell that encased the man, using the Force to strengthen his blows to the point where even beskar'gam was inadequate to fully turn the force of his hits. Stripes was doing all he could to regain safe distance to swing his sword, but there was no escaping from this juggernaut who was intent on his destruction. Blow after blow from the enraged Dark Jedi master clanked down upon Mandalorian iron, impacts sounding through the night like a blacksmith's hammer on an anvil, and still the warrior retreated.

With a sudden burst of fire, Stripes launched into the air, spraying fire from his jetpack and wrist alike, doing everything in his power to escape the increasingly dire situation he had found himself in. Keirdagh, forced to dodge from the wall of flame let loose an incoherent and guttural cry of rage as the focus on his anger looked likely to escape, and it was that moment when everything changed.

Reaching out with the Force, Keirdagh grasped Stripes in an impenetrable pincer. The Mandalorian's armor resisted the pressure, but Keirdagh knew he was squeezing the life out of the man, and the shouts of pain made it all the more obvious. Dimly aware that Kincaid was holding off the other Mandalorian, Keirdagh continued to focus solely on this transgressor. Bones and metal creaked, their sounds ominous against the harsh din of the storm outside. "Never," bit out Keirdagh through rage clenched teeth, "mess with a Sith's saber."

In a sudden blinding crash, the skies opened, and suddenly it appeared as though all the lightning that was in the clouds raced toward Stripes. Energy coalesced into a compacted ball of lightning as Keirdagh channeled his rage and into a localized burst of electrical energy, surrounding the leader of the Mandalorians. No sound could be heard outside of the electrical discharges and screams, and in a short while, even the screams stopped.

Vengeance sated, Keirdagh spread his vision out to see Kincaid still locked in a battle with the last of the Mandalorian trio. Though he had nearly spent all of his energy, sheer momentum gave him the strength to do what was needed at the end. "Kincaid, to me!" he shouted, even as he launched the now still corpse of Stripes down onto Slash's head with neck crushing force.

As he watched Kincaid nimbly scramble across the bridge, he noted that the force of the impact was enough to finish the bridge off also. What had been single stones falling into the depths below were now full sections, and within minutes the whole thing would have crumbled down into the abyss. Kincaid's eyes when he arrived next to his Proconsul were clouded with shadow and suspicion. Keirdagh merely levelled a weary smile at the enigmatic apprentice of Cotelin.

Let the smug son of a Hutt chew on that display of power.

"Kincaid."

Keirdagh's voice was eerily calm, given the rage emanating from him. Even against the harsh shrieks of the wind, everyone on the bridge could somehow hear him. Was he projecting his voice and thoughts simultaneously? Kincaid wasn't sure. The two Mandalorians stood still, probably confused about what they were feeling. Even with a non-existent sensitivity to the Force, Keirdagh's emotions would be palpable in their intensity.

"Go to the palace," he ordered. "I'll handle these two alone."

Kincaid's eyes narrowed dangerously at the peremptory tone. He and Keirdagh had long-since established some unspoken ground rules for working together. Giving him orders was definitely in breach of them. Still. Kincaid realized he was not on Begeren to fight this fight—he had an objective to complete. In truth, leaving the matter to Keirdagh made a great deal of sense. The storm was reaching its apex and the Mandalorians were slowing them down too much. As long as one of them finished the mission, that was all that mattered.

Decision made, Kincaid gave a small nod of acknowledgement, then turned back towards the palace. He sprinted off towards the palisades, but a modulated voice called out, amplified electronically from the Mandalorian's helmet.

"Bastard. You think you're getting away?"

It was Stripes. The Mandalorian took a running step, ignited the burners of his jetpack, and raced towards Kincaid flying just a few feet above the ground. Before he had a chance to react to the threat, Keirdagh thrust out his left hand and jerked it back. Like he had been caught by the invisible hand of a giant, the Mandalorian was ripped out of the air and slammed into the ground. Even within his vaunted armor, the blow had probably concussed him.

"Weren't you listening, asshole?" Keirdagh shouted. "This is between you two and me."

A vicious torrent of flames rushed towards Keirdagh's back. He rolled to avoid it, then sent one of his floating weapons flying in a high arc and brought it down directly on Slash's gauntlet. The flames disappeared instantly. Keirdagh vaulted up and rushed the Mandalorian, but Slash was unperturbed. He drew a heavy blaster from his side in a flash and unleashed a steady stream of well-aimed shots.

Keirdagh easily blocked the slow, high-powered shots with a small, sapphire blade, and continued his charge. With just a few yards between them, he launched himself into the air. His left foot crashed into Slash's helmet before he could dodge, knocking him back a few steps. Using the force of his kick, Keirdagh leaped up high. He reached out and clasped his hand around the spinning hilt of a lightsaber—a parting gift from Kincaid, who had thrown it only moments earlier. The amber blade activated as he plummeted downwards, and pierced through the Mandalorian's visor.

"Taron!" Stripes yelled as another of his brothers fell.

From the far side of the bridge, Kincaid felt the shout rather than heard it. Lightning crashed into the bridge, splintering off huge chunks of the ancient stone. A deep, terrible groan echoed around him and the bridge lurched beneath his feet. They were out of time.

The last Mandalorian tackled Keirdagh, and the two grappled on the ground near the edge of the bridge. Another bolt of lightning struck nearby, showering the two with debris. The bridge was going to collapse at any minute, but the Mandalorian seemed hell-bent on taking down at least one of the Dark Jedi.

Was he driven by rage? Vengeance? Or was it merely completing the bounty he had been given? Kincaid wasn't sure, but he felt it went deeper than that. Something had driven the three Mandalorians to attack two masters of the Force in a location on the brink of destruction. It was a suicide mission no matter how you looked at it. Whoever was pulling their strings would have to be fairly powerful. For a second, the name "Esoteric" reverberated within Kincaid's mind.

It could only be him.

Which meant the Sith Lord had not died on Bosthirda. He was still alive—still directing the One Sith's assault against the Brotherhood. The realization filled Kincaid with a renewed sense of purpose. Esoteric was alive. The Sith Lord had almost killed his master, along with nearly half of the Clan's Elders. He had to be found… and destroyed.

Kincaid once again turned away from Keirdagh and ran towards the palace. He was close now, close enough to see the undefended door through the torrential rain. He would continue the mission, as he had been ordered to do. Somehow, Keirdagh would just have to fend for himself. The old man could probably do it, even in such a dire situation.

As he reached the palisade walls, Kincaid felt another shudder run through the bridge. He turned back for one last look, but Keirdagh and the Mandalorian were no longer in sight. Lightning crashed down on the bridge over and over. From the deep, charred gouges in the stone, hairline fractures spread at an alarming rate. The terrible groaning sounded again, and the entire bridge shook. Huge chunks of stone fell into the chasm below. Kincaid activated his remaining lightsaber and leaped at the door, slashing through it just as the bridge finally surrendered and dropped into the abyss.

Kincaid hit the ground and rolled, springing back to his feet with blade raised. He let his power pulse outwards, immediately gaining a sense of who and what was nearby. Shouts of alarm greeted his entrance, and One Sith soldiers scrambled at the sudden appearance of an enemy in their midst. There were a half dozen fully armed and armored soldiers in the immediate area. A mere precursor to what was ahead, he was sure.

Still, Kincaid thought, eyeing the nearest soldier and calculating the distance between them. It was a start.