A gambler’s den of the Vertical City’s greatest bettors, Club Vertica is a casino reserved for the wealthiest of Nar Shaddaa. Cardshark droids are used exclusively to deal hands to those willing to risk their credits at the sabacc tables. Cheating is rendered near impossible under the surveillance of the droid's six photoreceptors. That of course does not stop the downtrodden from accusing others of being a fraud, which can often happen before someone receives a blaster bolt between the eyes. The few that have able to use skiffers undetected are counted as some of the best swindlers in the Galaxy.

Cerulean lights illuminate the tables, making concealment during a game difficult. Seated around most of the oval tables are a mix of gamblers from different species, succumbing to their addiction for the ultimate prize—the sabacc pot. Credits are tossed onto the tables forming mountains that draw in fierce competitors with deeper pockets and faster wit than the usual patrons.

Behind the games of sabacc, drinks are being served from the alcove of a small bar. Most of these are a shade of blue in color, expertly mixed to dull the senses of all but the hardiest individuals. Onstage, a local band sets the mood of the venue with an upbeat number that deafens out most conversations. The stakes are always high at Club Vertica.

Above all else, Club Vertica existed to do one thing - To make its patrons lose something. To some, it was a chance to abandon their old lives in a streak of good fortune, for others their credits when luck turned against them, and sometimes even old enemies. In Tarvitz’s case, he was simply there to make sure Clan Naga Sadow lost some very vital information to the right people.

Sitting at the bar, he risked another sip of the murky concoction which passed for tea in Vertica and eyed the chronometer on the far wall. Three hours had passed since his arrival, and two since his contact should have shown up. While he might have managed to keep himself entertained with the odd game of sabacc or two, there was little he could do to dissuade his growing concerns. Tarvitz was ill suited to the field of espionage, yet even he knew that remaining at a delayed rendezvous for long was tantamount to suicide. In fact, the only reason he had yet to move was due to the inherent danger of storming the casino.

As the more recent burn markings on the walls testified, any Iron Legion force seeking to breach the front doors would find itself facing down enough blasters to outfit a small company of soldiers. It was better to stay here and have a very heavily armed distraction on hand, than risk being ambushed by the Legion on the streets, after all. As if to emphasise this point, a tan skinned Mon Calamarai at one table who had been screaming accusations of cheating dragged a knife free from his belt. Lunging at the Arkanaian opposite him, he lasted just long enough to apparently realise the gravity of his mistake, before being downed by several stun blasts. Tarvitz shook his head, half tempted to intervene despite the gambler’s sheer stupidity as he was dragged to the door, before his heart stopped. As it slid open to allow the bouncers to throw the unfortunate man out, another strode inside. One Tarvitz recognised all too well.

To the uninitiated, the newcomer might have appeared to be wearing wearing little more than skillfully made combat armour. To Tarvitz however, even without its distinctive helmet, it was unmistakably the uniform of the Brotherhood’s Royal Guard. The face of its owner was known to him as well - Jurdan Krennel of Clan Naga Sadow. He was a warrior Tarvitz knew only by reputation, but it was a bloody and well earned one to be sure. Krennel scanned the surrounding patrons, checking one face after the next before his eyes came to rest on Tarvitz.

“You,” he hissed, drawing the lightsaber hooked at his waist and activating the magenta blade with a snap-hiss of energy.

The general hubbub of Club Vertica instantly died down at the sight, becoming an audience fixated upon the new arrival and the scarred man he was staring down. While they might have responded to soldiers with blasters, few there were foolhardy enough to challenge a Force user. Especially a Sith only interested in one of their number. Tarvitz initially expected Krennel to deliver the usual ultimatum or a threat of what would follow if he failed to hand over the data on Clan Naga Sadow’s fleet movements. Instead, the Sith simply hurled himself forwards in a lunging strike.

Swiveling in his seat, Tarvitz dragged his own lightsaber free and activated the amber blade. The two weapons collided, one intercepting the other a split-second before it carved through Tarvit's chest. For a moment the two strained against one another, each trying to push past their opponent’s defences. Then Tarvitz drew his head back, and smashed the metal plating of his cybernetic eye into the other man’s face. The Sith howled and Tarvitz felt something crack under the impact. As the two broke apart he noted Krennel’s features were marred by a bent and freely bleeding nose.

“I don’t suppose you would be willing to talk this out?” Tarvitz asked, with all the politeness he could muster for some who who had just attempted to murder him.

Krennel merely snarled in answer, raising his glowing blade above him and extending his free hand forwards in the typical Soresu stance. Tarvitz sighed as he rose from his stool, nodded and then dropped into a half-crouch, with his lightsaber held before him in a two-handed grip.

“Well, come on then. Let’s get this over with.”

The blood was everywhere. Jurdan’s rage was building at the thought of this Jedi smashing his nose as he did. It was a cheap trick for one of his kind. The Sith Battlemaster just shook his head as he prepared for battle. He was standing there with his hand outstretched towards his opponent. He was daring him to attack again in such a manner. Jurdan scanned the surrounding area quickly, trying to gauge how much room he would have to work with in this crowded vista.

The area was filled with aliens from all over the system and galaxy. Nar Shadaa was a breeding ground of scum and villany. There were tables and chairs around the area with a clear path down the center. Bright lights were flashing left and right overtop the bar and in the dance area behind him. Jurdan took a step towards Ka Tarvitz and raised his blade. The Jedi did the same in opposition to him. The Battlemaster launched an all out attack on the human, their lightsabers clashed together and hissed like a couple of fighting snakes. The two twirled in circles like a couple of tornadoes clashing in a windstorm. The blades continued to hiss and spark with each concurrent strike.

The two humans continued their engagement in this manner. After a few attacks and parries Jurdan saw a pattern in Ka’s attacks. Ka swung his blade wide trying to goad Jurdan into doing something stupid. Jurdan knew he would only get one chance and ducked underneath the attack. He brought his left fist up into the jaw of the other human, landing an uppercut flush on Tarvitz’s chin. The Jedi’s head flew backwards briefly before he was able to bring it back down to once again lock eyes on his opponent. He wasn’t fast enough though as Jurdan had gotten in behind him and spun around quickly putting all of his force into a kick to the spine. Tarvitz flew forward and hit a table. The force of his collision with it sent Ka flying over the table, with it rolling over the top of the human as he landed on the floor.

Ka looked up at the Sith approaching him and he quickly threw up the table, turning it into a makeshift barricade and pulled out his blaster. He took aim at the ceiling and fired. The weight of the materials in the roof above caused the ceiling to buckle and fall, narrowly missing Jurdan. In the confusion the Sith lost track of Ka in the crowd. He tried to sense him but there was an issue, he couldn’t make a positive Force connection.

“Sithspit, he’s one of those type of Jedi,” Jurdan snarled as he scanned the crowd.

This match has concluded by way of draw.