You stand at the very top of the Shadow Academy—the great pyramid of Lyspair—in the offices of the Headmaster. A fire crackles merrily in the chamber, background noise for the battle yet to come. Two comfortable couches sit in the center of the long, ovoid room. Your eyes land on the desk opposite the fireplace, filled with datapads and forms. The yellowish glows of the flames illuminate the shelves of artifacts and holo-books surrounding the upper tier of the room. This was a private study, the place where the Headmaster of the Shadow Academy met his subordinates to discuss important matters.

Your eyes track beyond the desk, to an unassuming door which will lead directly to the Headmaster's living quarters. A side door to your immediate right leads to the more public office. The opposite door, standing on the left, leads to a private sparring room. You hear the soft rush of metal and cloth as your opponent pulls their weapon. Despite the sanctity of the Headmaster's chambers, the fight is inevitable. It was meant to be. As your hand drops down to your own weapon, you shift into a combat stance and prepare to draw.

Dacien had it all planned out.

His ascension to the post of Headmaster had been bloodless, as such things often were in the modern Brotherhood. But this marked the first time in the history of the Brotherhood that a devotee of the Light Side of the Force -- a Jedi, the true enemy -- had served on the Dark Council. Astounding. Blasphemous.

This intruder, a technical marvel and an abomination of silicon and metal, had enjoyed full access to the deepest archives of the Shadow Academy. Some of the most valuable, ancient secrets of the Sith, Obelisk, and Krath orders were at his fingertips. Dank caverns of scrolls and holocrons, buried far under the pyramid and kept under lock and guard for generations were compromised. And the Grand Master suffered Solari to live. Dacien could not comprehend his Master's purpose, but he fully understood the danger of letting Solari loose in a galaxy set against the Dark Jedi.

Today, he would solve a problem.

Dacien stood from his desk and turned towards the figure entering his private office.

"Solari, welcome. I trust the guards gave you no trouble," Dacien said without a hint of warmth.

"None, Headmaster," the creature replied. Its voice reverberated throughout the room with an irritating and unnatural timbre. "I believe you reserved that right for yourself, correct?"

Dacien, a cruel grin spreading, stepped around his desk. He placed both hands out to the side of his body, parallel to the ground, and walked towards the cyborg. "I asked you here for advice, friend," Dacien lied, continuing his slow approach. "Forgive me, but I have been away from the Academy for some time. I have questions. For you, about you."

Solari's cold, impassive frame stood perfectly still, balanced and prepared. "So ask," he replied.

Dacien nodded, still slowly advancing. "I know you are Lord Ashen's pet rock, but why? Why would the commander of a mighty fleet, a man able to bend a horde of vicious warriors and sorcerers to his will, elevate and protect a clump of glowing dirt?" He continued forward. "More perplexing to me, though, is why he did not grind you to dust under his boot when you embraced the path of weakness."

The Sith stopped, lowered his arms to his sides. In an instant, two brilliant streaks of crimson light erupted into the room as Dacien simultaneously hurled his cloak aside and pulled his dual lightsabers to him, ignited. "Questions abound," Dacien snarled as he launched himself at Solari.