Despite being on the first level of the Citadel, the massive courtyard remains hidden behind towering walls of stone and sediment. An elongated central patch of neatly trimmed grass stretches out for almost fifty-meters while maintaining a twenty-meter width. At the center of the grass is a large, ovular fountain in the shape of the Arcona emblem, with water running from the tips of each pointed edge. Vegetation grows along some of the walls, and an archaic clock-face is carved into the face of one of the entryways. A small group of rotating sharpshooters are scattered across the walls as the courtyard is supposed to serve as a safe place for Arconans to enjoy some quiet time, or to meet with visitors. It has served as the venue for multiple honor-duels over time, and there is a significant crater off to the side of the grass left behind as a result of a contest between Marick Arconae and Wuntila Arconae. The duel had taken place prior to either Arconae serving as Shadow Lords and in a quieter time before all Arcona knew was warfare.

As you walk towards the back of the courtyard, closer to the base of the cliff that the Citadel is constructed upon, a tall tree shoots up from the stone, its shade guarding an entrance into the Citadel proper.

Andrelious raced into the courtyard, firing his E-11 blaster behind him. Several men garbed in the uniform of the Arcona Army Corps fell to the ground, cut down by the Warlord’s accurate fire. Sighing with relief, Inahj put the blaster back in its holster. The army men had given chase when they discovered that the Rollmaster had sided with the Arconae in the growing dispute between the Shadow Clan’s elite and the current Quaestors.

The whole clan’s going mad. We need to be fighting our enemies, not each other. Andrelious thought to himself as he began to catch his breath. As his breath pattern normalised, he began to feel another Force imprint. He was not alone. The ex-Imperial turned his head to see exactly who it was. He found himself staring at an Arkanian who appeared to have been meditating in the peace of the courtyard. The alien stared back with his piercing brown eyes, clearly annoyed that he had been disturbed. Andrelious quickly identified him as Darkblade, a member of the Nighthawk crew.

“Rollmaster Inahj? Are you here to promote me?” the Arkanian asked, feeling the need to move his hand towards the hilt of his training saber.

“Surely you’ve heard? The whole frakking Clan is ripping itself apart over this damn argument between the Arconae and Quaestors! I think there’s more important things to worry about than your promotion!” Inahj roared, sensing a little hostility in the Protector.

“Captain Cortel mentioned something. Something about the Quaestors getting too big for their boots. But I can’t see how they’d manage that. Cortel’s a typical lying Obelisk!” Darkblade snapped back. His intolerance for the militant order was well known, even despite his long trips away from the Arconan homeworld.

Andrelious sighed. He had heard that the Nighthawk’s crew had become almost devotedly loyal to their Captain. When the female had declared her support for the Arconae faction, the majority of her men had followed suit quickly. Darkblade, however, had evidently decided to back Cethgus and Valtiere instead.

“I’m afraid that I cannot allow such a lack of vision among the Journeymen under my care. Cethgus is a danger to all of those he commands. I’ll give you one chance to rescind your declaration of allegiance to him, Darkblade.” Inahj stated simply.

The Arkanian simply shook his head, before turning to leave the scene. Before Andrelious could do much more than summon his silver hilted lightsaber, the Krath was running away, heading for the fountain.

Inahj did not bother to try to keep up with his new opponent, instead electing to arm himself with his blaster. Keeping a firm eye on the sprinting Protector, he fired several shots in the direction of Darkblade. The shots were not as well-aimed as Andrelious usually managed. In fact, he was making sure Darkblade was able to evade, twisting, turning and jumping as he ran for cover. The lack of accuracy was partly to warn the Protector, and partly to test him.

Fancy tricks. Seems he’s not just going to be cannon fodder. Time to up my game a little. Inahj mused, as he started to chase after the fleeing Arkanian. He continued to fire his blaster in the general direction of the Protector, if just to force him to slow down a little – his fastest speed was enough to leave Andrelious behind.

Spying a nearby entranceway, Darkblade altered his trajectory slightly. He reasoned that escape into the Citadel itself would force Inahj to abort his attack, and allow him safe passage away from the fuming Rollmaster. Andrelious, now about twenty yards behind, spotted what his opponent was doing almost immediately, and reached out with the Force, using it to push at the door’s control panel. The Protector watched in horror as the door quickly closed, trapping him in the courtyard with a man renowned for his brutality when disposing of enemies. He quickly tried to reopen the door, but found that Inahj had locked it down.

“One last chance, Darkblade. Surrender to me and I’ll make sure you get a fair trial when your allies are defeated.” Andrelious hissed, switching weapons from blaster to lightsaber.

Darkblade watched the approaching Warlord carefully. He had only a few moments. He had to make them count.

Darkblade didn't like the situation he was in; closing the doors through the Force had been an unexpected and delightful trick that brought up mixed feelings. The Protector didn't know whether to feel excited or fearful of his opponent. He realized the blaster shots fired when he was running across the courtyard weren't meant to hit, the ex-imperial pilot was better than that. Andrelious had been sizing him up, testing him before closing the trap. As a tactician and scholar Darkblade respected the tactical approach. He also cursed himself for not thinking ahead before provoking the Sith. The Warlord was trudging towards Darkblade, hand already reaching towards his lightsaber. The Protector had only a sparse amount of time to size up this powerful and imposing figure. Quickly sifting through his memories he brought up what he knew about the Rollmaster and prepared himself for the inevitable fight.

“I think I’ll pass on your most gracious offer. It is in no way beneficial for me to surrender to you,” The Protector smiled at the Warlord, and positioned himself as open and non-threatening, arms spread wide and palms open towards Andrelious, whilst slowly walking towards him.

“However, I would love to have a drink with you in your cell if you survive this ordeal!” With these words, Darkblade rolled forward to the left side of the Warlord, making sure to keep the saber arm as far away as possible. Coming up from the roll behind the Sith, Darkblade delivered a powerful heel strike towards the backside of Andrelious’ knee. The Rollmaster had little to no experience with hand to hand combat, and was caught by surprise by this unexpected and unorthodox way to initiate combat. Dropping to one knee, Andrelious ignited his saber and turned into a wild, backwards swing to force the Protector back. This had been anticipated, however, and Darkblade easily stepped back out of reach. Staying on the left side of Andrelious, the Krath had already contemplated his next moves. The Sith was very resilient to strikes, and although Darkblade could dance for hours striking the Warlord, he would need a lot of luck to strike a blow that would do any kind of real harm. The Protector backed away a few more steps, scowling slightly, and let Andrelious rise. Grabbing his training saber and activating it, Darkblade knew that he would not win a fair fight against someone as well trained as the Sith before him.

“You are peculiar; it has been a very long time since someone has tried hand to hand combat against me,” Andrelious said as he rose to his feet, raising his left hand and sending out a shot of electricity. Darkblade tried to dodge but was too slow, as he stumbled over his feet. Cursing he took the full brunt of the electric spark that had erupted from Andrelious' hand. With the young Protector convulsing on the floor, the Rollmaster sported a wicked smile as he walked forwards.

“I think I’ll have my drink next to your dead rotting corpse!” Andrelious said, smacking his lips and already envisioning the liquor sliding down his throat. “I enjoyed our little exercise; I do hope the rest of you traitors prove more worthy of my time though.” Taking a Djem So stance, raising his saber above his head with both hands and angling it back and down at an approximate forty-five degree angle, otherwise known as the “Falling Avalanche”, he prepared to sweep his blade down across Darkblade’s throat with his signature deathblow, severing his opponent’s windpipe and watching them choke to death.

“The perfect death for a fool like yourself!” he smugly stated as he swept his blade downwards. Just as he the blade was ready to part flesh, he sensed something behind him. Adjusting his strike to sweep over and around the fallen Protectors body, Andrelious whirled towards the threat he had felt through the Force, blade snapping to attention in a defensive stance in front of him.

An exact image of Darkblade stood before him. “How is this possible?” the Sith asked. Without replying the illusion swept towards the baffled Warlord. Raising his blade, he blocked the first strike, immediately countering it but being blocked in turn. The battle started in earnest, Andrelious relishing the fight, adrenaline coursing through his body as the familiar and formidable fighting style of Djem So flowed through him.

There was a reason that training lightsabers were universally discarded when a member reached Knighthood. Darkblade was beginning to discover that reason as the weaker blade of his weapon began to fail against the powerful attacks from his opponent. His trickery had given him a brief respite from a potentially gruesome end, but it had also angered Andrelious. The Rollmaster’s offer of clemency was now clearly revoked as the Warlord pressed hard with constant attacks.

Feinting to the left, Andrelious moved his lightsaber to the right at the last moment. His prey blocked the attack, momentum carrying him forwards. Sweeping his left leg towards his opponent, Inahj attempted to knock Darkblade over. The Arkanian was caught a little off guard, but kept his cool, jumping over his enemy’s leg. Andrelious, acting quickly, shoved the Protector away, the Force altering the young Galerean’s trajectory.

Darkblade landed roughly on the floor a few feet away from the ex-Imperial. Inahj smirked, moving towards his opponent. He could sense that the Arkanian had been hurt by the impact, but not greatly. If the pair had been in a training exercise, it was now at the point where the Warlord would call it off, having been particularly impressed with how long Darkblade had lasted. But this was war, and the Protector was committing treason. The penalty for that was death.

“I gave you a chance for a fair trial. We may have even let you back into the fold. But you chose to resist me.” Andrelious hissed, raising his lightsaber blade. With a ferocious downward slash, the Rollmaster tried to cleave his opponent clean in half, but his weapon simply cut into the ground. Darkblade had rolled away to the left, and was now getting back onto his feet, weapon ready. His stance showed that he was feeling more than a little pain from having been thrown on the ground, and as Inahj closed in, it became obvious that his ability to fight was hampered, too. Parrying the Warlord’s initial attack, Darkblade winced. In contrast, Andrelious was unhurt and able to use his full strength in the fight.

Barely dodging another attack, Darkblade attempted a quick counter, which was easily parried away. Andrelious twirled his lightsaber, ready to bring it downwards upon his opponent’s blade, clearly intent on disabling the weapon. With only a moment to act, the Arkanian began to run past his opponent, the Force adding to his agility. Inahj was unable to alter his swing enough to make contact with the absconding Krath, his lightsaber again cutting into the ground instead.

As his Force boost expired, Darkblade slowed down, fatigue and pain affecting his ability to continue running. With dread, he turned to face the Warlord, immediately forced to raise his lightsaber blade to shield himself from an attempted dismemberment. Andrelious tried to press home his advantage, probing and testing the Protector from many angles, but found him to still be incredibly stubborn. Beads of sweat began to appear on the frustrated Sith’s forehead as he pushed and pushed Darkblade into more and more defensive positions, seemingly unable to make a telling breakthrough despite the huge disparity in power and experience.

One last big PUSH! Darkblade thought, ducking as he thrust his lightsaber forwards. Andrelious slid his blade downwards, but could only partially block the attack, allowing the Arkanian’s blade to stab into his right leg. With a pained roar, the Warlord fell to his knees, keeling over onto his back. His lightsaber rolled away, its blade retracting into the hilt.

“An excellent move, Protector. It appears you have won!” Inahj stated coldly, apparently focusing on healing his wounded leg. Darkblade, still immensely tired, deactivated his own weapon, clipping it to his belt and reaching for his comlink. As he did so, he moved between the healing Andrelious and his lightsaber, denying him any chance of regaining the weapon. His free hand remained close to his training saber, ready in case the Rollmaster should try to fire his blasters.

“This is Darkblade. I’ve got Inahj pinned down in the Courtyard. I’ve managed to disable him and his weapon, but I’ve no idea how lo-“ the Protector began, suddenly feeling an immense burning pain through his middle. Looking down, he saw the crimson blade of a lightsaber bisecting his midriff. Perplexed, he turned his head and noticed Inahj’s silver hilted weapon still laying uselessly on the ground.

“You fool. So long spent on using the Force to master parlour tricks has left your mind so weak. So malleable. So easy to make you think I carried only ONE lightsaber!” Inahj spat as Darkblade slumped to the ground, his life ebbing away. The black-hilted weapon that Andrelious used only to finish his enemies had claimed another victim.

Though Darkblade was defeated, Andrelious was far from safe. Darkblade had managed to relay the ex-Imperial’s location to his allies.

Escape would still be difficult.

The Warlord had noticed Darkblade rolling away from him when the duel initiated, but thought nothing of it, focusing on the Illusion instead. The duel didn’t cost him much energy, barely breaking out a sweat. Easily figuring out the pattern the illusion used. Tiring of this boring duel, the Rollmaster opened himself to the Force. Countering a low blow to the right knee, he followed up with an upward slash separating the thigh, and came back down swiping his blade across the neck of the Illusion. With the distraction now dealt with, Andrelious was able to turn around just in time to see Darkblade coming at him. A serious and determined look sparkled in the eyes of the Protector, which were met with anger and disgust from the Sith. The Rollmaster tried to jump away, but felt sluggish and cumbersome. Realizing in an instant what was happening the Warlord brought his blade down low and horizontal to protect himself as much as possible from the incoming Protector.

Darkblade lunged past the saber, knowing that the Sith would be slowed for only a few more moments he had to make this count. With his left side being partially defended it made it awkward for the Protector to find a weak spot unless he could get behind him again. Using the momentum from his short sprint, he enhanced his muscles, feeling the Force flow through him, invigorating him and speeding him up. The Krath realized he had one opportunity to make this work out in his favour, and took his chance. Rolling to the right side of the Warlord this time, he was able to slash at the wrist holding the lightsaber blade, scoring a deep cut and severing a few tendons and nerves. The lightsaber fell out of the Rollmasters hand, and clattered to the ground, extinguishing itself a few feet from Andrelious. Upon completing the roll, the Journeyman came up behind the Sith, and once again executed a swift kick with the flat of his heel inside the right knee, causing the Warlord to tumble to the ground, unable to support his falling body with his damaged right hand. Darkblade turned to face the fallen Rollmaster, and was shocked to see Andrelious holding his lightsaber in his right hand, pushing himself up off the ground. The parted tendons and flesh had knitted completely back together, allowing full use of his arm again. Anger flared in his eyes as he stood tall.

The Protector just now realized how imposing the Sith could be, and fear shot through him. Stepping back as Andrelious stepped forward, the Warlord shot out his right arm, throwing his saber at Darkblade. A little too slow the Krath fell to the ground, feeling the blade narrowly missing his head, burning a small portion of the backside of his scalp and neck. With the saber returning to Andrelious hand the Warlord raced forwards to catch it in mid air. Jumping to reach the handle of the blade, the Sith brought his lightsaber down in a two handed arch, a rage induced war cry bellowing from him. With no way to block or get away, Darkblade realized that this was the end for him. He watched, as time slowed down, the blade inching towards him. The Krath relived his brief time as a Dark Jedi, and embraced his destiny. A true Dark Jedi is strong, and can overcome all obstacles, no matter who or what his opponent is, no matter how strong they are, a true sith preservers. With the blade coming down Darkblade screamed out “STOP!”.

Andrelious checked his sweep, and could have completely missed Darkblade, but a small amount of pleasure was to be found in still grazing the Krath across his left shoulder, eliciting a slight grunt of pain from him.

“What do you have to say, nothing can be reversed or undone!” Andrelious said as he stooped over the young Journeymen, who was holding his left shoulder in pain.

“I’m a spy! I swear it, I have sided with the Questors only to help the Arconae!” Darkblade spat out. The Sith Warlord laughed. Raising his lightsaber once again to the tip of Darkblades throat, he bent down and looked him in the eyes. Fear was driving the Krath’s eyes from side to side, unable to focus on anything except Andrelious eye’s when he bent down.

Grabbing Darkblade by the cuff of his shirt, he whispered “So am I, but you choose the wrong side.” With that he pushed his crimson red blade into Darkblade’s throat, and watched the Krath die, feeling his life force flowing out of him. With one last look of contempt, Andrelious reached inside his robes, and pulled out a flask of strong liquor. Planting his boot on the suffocating body beneath him to stop it from wriggling around, Sith Warlord Andrelious J. Inahj took a mighty swig out of his flask as he watched the blood red sun set.