Abandoned and forgotten, the ruins of the Dark Temple have slowly succumbed to the erosion of time. In the central chamber—the walls have crumbled, the ceiling has caved in, and the jungle now flourishes within the once pristine halls.

Green light filters itself through the temple, mixing eerily with the dark, violet hue of Dromund Kaas’ sky. Lightning flickers overhead, the raw energy of the Force clashing high above. The floor is overgrown with flora, large plants and grasses that have swallowed the old stone. Wild creatures roam freely, skittering away from the presence of intruders while vicious predators hide just out of sight.

The main hall is lined on both sides by towering statues, heads bowed in supplication. They stand in deference to the sculpture of a pure-blooded Sith, which towers over the chamber with outstretched arms. The sculpture has been split diagonally down the middle, as if cleaved in two by a rusted blade, but the majesty in the stone still echoes to the past.

On either side of the main hall, remnants of branches to inaccessible parts of the temple remain. One might tilt their head to take in what is left of the mezzanine—the balcony overlooking the chamber—still held aloft by the great pillars standing behind the statues. Several of the pillars have fallen, providing a pathway up to the mezzanine for those willing to take the risk for higher ground. Spirits of the Sith are rumoured to still haunt the grounds—waiting for poor, misguided fools to walk blindly into their domain.

The two Quaestor's of Clan Plagueis knelt in front of a robed figure, his powerful face and neat top-knot shrouded by hood of his black cloak. Their eyes faced the floor, a sign of immense reverence for their lord and master, Teylas Ramar. At least, their former master.

"This is my final command as your Dread Lord," spoke Teylas, turning away from the duo to peer out the large window of the The Pinnacle. "Retrieve the artifact at all costs."

As the large, triangular frame of the Delta T-3c-class faded from view, Laren Uscot and Arden Karn stood a few hundred meters from the entrance of the former Dark Temple. The duo stood awestruck before the massive structure, taking in its immensity and adept craftsmanship. Or perhaps it was fear that halted their inevitable movement - after all, it was a Dark temple. Evil deeds unspeakable even among some of the Sith had been perpetrated here, and due to their efforts the Dark side permeated every aspect of the planet. The slinking sensation of fear and dread crept into the souls of the two servants of Clan Plagueis, and the two accepted in silence that the the cold touch of the Dark Side would only grow stronger.

"We have to go in there?" Laren asked incredulously. The mercenary was not one to normally shy away from dangerous and taxing assignments, but he had never been asked to infiltrate a ruined temple to retrieve an artifact of immense power.

"Indeed, Pantoran," the di Plagia responded flatly through his elaborate mask. "Follow me."

Laren responded with a nod and drew his trusted sidearm, a well-kept DC-17 hand blaster. Arden mirrored the movements of his fellow Quaestor, reaching for his F-11 blaster rifle slung on his back. He brought the rifle forward and held it horizontally near his waist, two hands firmly grasping the powerful weapon. The two trained killers walked with an unnatural patience, keenly aware that there could be dangers waiting beyond every corner. The thought sent a chill down the spine of the wiry Pantoran. He glanced at Arden, wondering if the experienced Sith Warlord felt the same emptiness as he did. There was no way to be sure, for it was said among those of the Ascendant Clan that Arden Karn felt nothing.

Lightning began to dance violently overhead, answered by crashing thunder that drowned out the noise of the relatively quiet jungle surrounding them. The unnatural display of nature's wrath did nothing to calm Laren's nerves about their mission. He could sense that Arden felt similar, for he glanced rigorously around them, searching ever more intensely for the slightest sign of danger. So far, however, their slow journey had been uneventful.

"I didn't think it too relevant to ask, human," the cerulean bounty hunter began, breaking their silence, "but why are we walking so slow?"

"Dromund Kaas is a world of dangers that transcend merely the mystic," Arden replied, his voice soft, now. "The Dark Side has consumed every aspect of this world - every living thing on this planet is tainted by it. And as you well know by now, the darker aspects of the Force do not usually create the cuddliest of creatures."

"You warlocks do keep me busy, though," Laren replied sarcastically. "But there are times like now that I regret getting involved wi -"

Arden outstretched his left hand abruptly, using a common military hand motion to indicate he wanted absolute silence. Laren complied, gripping his DC-17 tighter in his left hand and scanning their surroundings. The flora near the pair was thick jungle stock. For a planet tainted by the Dark Side, life was thriving in its own way. Yet even as Laren attempted to peer through the thick bushes, he noticed something seemed off. The leaves of the plants seemed sickly, or perhaps toxic, and the nearby trees seemed to droop as if battered by powerful wind. Though a storm raged above them, the air was still on the ground below. What did he see?

Crack. The sound of snapping twigs was coming from behind them, slightly further back than their landing sight. Laren was the first to whip around, his blaster held firmly in a two-handed tactical grip in front of him, his index finger poised on the trigger and ready to squeeze at a moments notice. Arden turned next, his F-11 poised for a killing shot at what or whomever was behind them, his right eye peering through the scope.

What stood before them was no mere creature of the jungle. The ruby-skinned creature was taller than Arden and Laren by a head or so, and twice as wide. The lumbering anthropoid had four arms, two longer than the other, and they sported a number of claws - at least ten by Laren's count. Over certain sections of its body, thick mats of brown hair stood straight up in a predatory fashion similar to giant felines found throughout the galaxy. But what struck Laren the most was its face - yellow eyes eerily similar to some of their Sith counterparts were fixed upon the pair of Plagueians, and a set of razor-sharp teeth were bared in an aggressive stance.

"A gundark," Arden breathed.

"A gundark? Here?!" Laren whispered.

"Won't be a gundark for long. I reckon there is a nest nearby. Make your choice now, bounty hunter - fight the gundarks out here, or fight spirits inside."

"Did you just say spirits?" Laren turned to glance at the warlord, a frown upon his face.

"You're taking too long - the temple it is. GO!"

After a brief sprint and a couple of warning shots to deter the Gundark’s pursuit, Arden and Laren ducked into one of the Dark Temple’s many narrow side entrances. Whether it was simply too large, disinterested, or perhaps was aware of something they weren’t, the Gundark wasn’t interested in pursuing. The last of those things was quite likely as Arden immediately felt the pull of the Dark Side intensify as soon as his boots hit the stone floor. He’d expected this place to be saturated by the Force, but he wasn’t quite prepared for the sudden rush of it. The human stumbled a moment but pulled himself together quickly.

“You all right? Seemed a bit wobbly,” the Pantoran asked.

Arden simply nodded. “For now, at least. The Dark Side permeates this place even more than I’d expected.”

“Yeah, figured it was warlock stuff,” Laren answered as he dug around for a light. “Figure that thing the boss wants is around here somewhere?”

“Probably,” Arden replied. “From what he said it’s likely in the personal studies of one of the former Sith lords that ran this place. Coming in the back probably saved us some time.”

Finally getting a light source, Laren pointed to a passage that led deeper into the temple. Arden nodded and waved the Pantoran ahead. They wound their way down into the former temple until they found a larger chamber. Rubble was strewn everywhere, clogging what were likely several other passageways. There was, however, a door that led deeper into the temple. Before they could open it though, there was an oddly timed crack of thunder that reverberated through the corridor. A moment later the sound of wind could be heard rushing down the corridor.

“Somehow, this is scarier than the Gundark,” Laren quipped as the sound grew louder.

Before Arden could respond, a shimmering figure of a robed humanoid appeared between them and the door. First came an unintelligible shriek and then a hollow voice rang out from seemingly all directions at once.

“How dare you disturb my sanctum! Leave now or face my wrath!”

Arden looked at Laren who seemed to be a bit shaken by the appearance of the spirit but then looked more closely at the apparition. After a second or two, the Sith closed his eyes and looked into the Force. After a silent moment, the room started to shutter and quake as the spirit started to shout.

“Flee now puny beings, you are no match for the power of the Dark Side!”

Laren glanced over at Arden, a tinge of fear creeping into his voice. “Maybe we should just go deal with the Gundark.”

Arden said nothing but opened his eyes and started scanning the room. After a couple seconds, and without warning, he raised his rifle and took aim for a spot just above the door. A bolt shot out of the rifle and over the spirit’s head impacting the wall. Instead of a dull thud that would normally result from such an impact, a sharp hissing and sparking noise emanated from the impact spot. The apparition in front of them flickered for a moment and then winked out completely. Laren looked to Arden with a clear expression of surprise.

“That was a hologram! How did you know?”

“A spirit like that should have been discernable in the Force, even with all the background energy. I felt nothing,” Arden replied calmly.

“So someone set this up? Clever,” Laren added. “Probably hid speakers and some sonic agitators in the rocks. Probably trying to scare people off because they…”

“Were looking for the same thing we are,” Arden interrupted. “Plenty of stuff to loot and/or study down here for the right sort of treasure hunter.”

“Figure they’re still around?” Laren asked. Arden was probably grinning widely beneath his mask at the comment. “They best hope not.”

"There's only one way to find out," Arden replied with a shrug before continuing deeper into the temple.

Laren followed close behind, his blaster grasped firmly in two hands. The passageway was narrow and and it was unlikely that their quarry, let alone anyone, would risk destroying a potential extraction route out of the complex. Yet even knowing that they were safe for now, the duo were clearly on edge. Both had blasters at the ready and were scanning their surroundings, looking for anything that could be used to signal ahead to an enemy of their approach.

The light from the end of the passageway was beginning to grow, most likely marking the entrance into an as-of-yet unexplored part of the temple. It seemed well-lit, and based on the map they were coming up to a larger space utilized as some sort of hall. Laren also surmised - based on his limited knowledge of the Sith and the Temple - that the passageway and the room ahead was representative of the journey of the Sith. Specifically, it was one of the many entrances into the temple, but a long and narrow path to a room likely to be larger and of some importance to the lore of the temple. He had little physical evidence with which to confirm his suspicions, considering the passageway was bare of any decoration or markings, but Laren kept the suspicion in the back of his mind.

Arden stopped walking, and Laren could sense the man had spotted - no, he felt something.

"The dead seem to be the least of our problems. Be ready to move on my signal."

He didn't give any more time to explain the matter. Arden unhooked a a grenade from his utility belt and activated the trigger mechanism. He tossed the grenade - a flash grenade, from what Laren could see - with a powerful underhanded throw. The grenade quickly disappeared from view and landed in the open area ahead. The Sith brought a hand in front of his eyes, and Laren relinquished one of his own hands from his hand blaster to do the same. The explosion from the grenade rang loud, and he heard a few cries and grunts of surprise at the temporary blindness.

The mercenary dropped his hand and saw Arden dashing toward the entrance, blaster in hand. It was a smart plan, though Laren wasn't a fan of the lack of details. He took the vanguard by surprise with the flash grenade, allowing them the chance to exit the narrow passage and take cover in the room beyond. Arden took cover behind the fallen hand of a massive and crumbling stone statue near the entrance, and Laren did the same. He spotted at least two enemies with some sort of combat armor and blasters on the mezzanine above, and he had no doubt there were more scattered throughout the vast room.

"Was this room important?" Laren whispered, trying to keep his voice down. The room was silent, now - why hadn't their enemy struck?

"The main hall, if I'm not mistaken - did you even read the briefing notes?"

Laren had no time to respond. Blaster fire began raining down from the mezzanine, some coming from the locations he had spotted before, and others from various crevasses and fallen boulders. Their aim was wild, and it seemed they didn't have a clear idea of where Arden and Laren were - for the moment.

"Something's not right, Arden," Laren said, examining the room. "These guys are trained, but no way are they the real muscle of this operation. I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Perhaps, bounty hunter. It's hard to say. The deeper we go, the deeper the Dark Side permeates the very fabric of our being. Though the spirit we saw before was a hologram, I fear even our mortal adversaries and their overlords will not be the worst of our troubles."

"Well for now they are. Look," Laren said, nodding his head to the opposite end of the room.

There, standing in the open in front of a massive, cracked sculpture of a menacing looking creature was a woman garbed in a filthy black cloak. She was a human woman, taller than average and athletic of build. He short brown hair was cut around her petite ears, and her large brown eyes would have been considered beautiful if they weren't so tainted by fatigue and hatred. To stand with such confidence was a sign of her power, or perhaps he foolishness.

"Whoever you are, forget about retrieving the artifact. The Acolytes of the Beyond claim this prize for their own," the woman said, her voice booming and powerful.

"Arden, do you trust me?" Laren asked as he unclipped his grappling hook from his utility belt.

"Not really, no."

"Well that's goo - ah." Arden turned from peering over his cover to looking back at his companion. In his left hand he held a grappling hook, and his blaster was holstered.

"I'll take the top, you take the bottom - and maybe deal with that pretty lady over their while you're at it. We move on three."

"Laren, I don't think this -"

"One."

"- is a good idea -"

"Two." The bounty hunter looked up at the mezzanine, aiming from a spot the grappling hook could attach.

"- in the slightest -"

"THREE!"

Arden shook his head as Laren's grappling hook hit home and he started rapidly ascending the line. This did not stop him from getting off several quickly aimed shots at the nearest few enemies, hitting one and causing the others to duck behind cover. As he made his move out from behind the broken statue, he noticed one of the so-called 'Acolytes' take aim at the ascending Pantoran. Before he could get a shot off, Arden swung his rifle up and around and took him out with a well-placed shot to his exposed head.

“Boom, headshot,” Arden said to no one in particular.

The cloaked woman didn't seem to be amused though and finally turned to face Arden, an angry scowl on her face. She stared him down menacingly for a moment before speaking.

“Do you have any idea who you're dealing with? Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you for that?”

Without waiting for an answer, though Arden knew it was coming thanks to the Force, the woman shot out a gout of Force Lighting towards the Plagueian Overseer. Arden raised his hand and called upon the Force to harmlessly absorb the blast. His expression showed some exertion but otherwise remained emotionless. Looking her straight in her eyes, Arden spoke with a calm confidence.

“Do you have any idea who YOU are dealing with? Neither my friend or I are ones to be trifled with, I thought you would have known that seeing that we saw through your charade with the 'spirit'”

The woman harrumphed at Arden's comment. “It served its purpose, it delayed you. Gave us time to prepare. Besides, we have the high ground and you're out numbered.”

Arden didn’t react at first as she was only stating the obvious. On the whole the situation didn’t look good, but that was beside the point. They had skill, the Force, and the numbers were slowly evening out. Arden glanced up just as one of the thugs took a shot to the stomach, which sent him staggering back over the ledge of the mezzanine and down to the floor hard. As the body made a satisfying splat, Arden turned back to the woman.

“I’m liking our odds more every minute.”

I'm liking our odds every minute, Laren thought as he stood behind the cover of a large pillar. The man he had thought that had tossed himself over the mezzanine in death had been too close to shooting Arden for comfort. Liking our odds. Karabast... If he had the capability, he would have given a loud harumph for Arden to hear. Their odds, at least to Laren's eyes, were slim to none for getting out alive. Above on the mezzanine there were at least eight, possibly ten guards and more on the way. Below, Arden seemed to have met an equal - she had an intimate knowledge of the Force, a knowledge that Laren was sure came from experience in its usage. As he peeked out to take a potshot at one of the advancing guards, he shuddered at the thought of another Force-user giving battle. Perhaps more than one. Focus, Laren, let Arden dance away with his laser sword. Focus, indeed.

The bounty hunter took another peak below and saw the human adeptly dodging and side-stepping the attacks of his enraged female counterpart. Her black robe billowed behind her with the speed at which she advanced upon the fair-skinned human, but Arden seemed to easily dodge her well-placed fists and kicks. She had no weapon that Laren could see, but perhaps there was more hidden under her cloak than met the eye. Arden had yet to draw his own lightsaber, or any weapon for that matter. Laren didn't even want to guess as to why Arden was toying with this woman, for he had his own concerns to deal with above that took precedence. Yet he couldn't help but wonder if Arden was toying with his opponent, or if his opponent was baiting him into arrogance.

A blaster bolt an inch away from the Pantoran's face, and his attention returned to his own concerns. The number of guards above had swelled to twelve, and he suspected there would be at least two attempting to flank him through another possible entrance. The thugs seemed to be well-trained and somewhat disciplined, though they lacked Laren's experience in the killing-field which could lead to their downfall.

Laren holstered his blaster pistol and reached for the rifle expertly slung on his shoulder. He took it in two hands, the left grasping the trigger mechanism and his right under the stock. It was a short carbine, but it could do the trick. He knew with a well-placed shot he could take two in the chest when next he popped out from cover, and then he would have to move. Below, Laren caught a glimpse of Arden and his opponent dancing through the fallen debris with unnatural speed, highlighting their various abilities. I hope you can dodge bodies, human.

The Pantoran popped out from behind the relative safety of the pillar and began to advance methodically. Bolts of ruby red and sapphire blue plasma whizzed by him as he advanced, and he returned with his own blue discharges. He had twenty, maybe thirty shots before the blaster would need to recharge. His second shot took a thug to the stomach, and he dropped to floor in a massive heap. He scanned his arcs of fire, looking for another target. Another popped up and Laren squeezed the trigger, and this one flipped over the broken mezzanine balcony.

"How goes it, Arden!?"