A cesspool of the downtrodden, the Refugee Sector on Nar Shaddaa is home to both the misfortunate and criminals alike. Offering their protection for credits, the criminal organizations that control the sector tax the populace outrageous sums. Unable to provide these fees, refugees are forced to work under hazardous conditions producing glitterstim and adrenals for their overseers. Some of these refugees are addicted to the substances themselves—for which the cartels increase the price of their tithes in exchange for a share of the product.

Crammed with stalls and makeshift hovels, several of the sector’s inhabitants find refuge on the streets and in the alleyways. Those who managed to avoid the dangers of drug production can be found selling their limited and often defective goods to others. Behind these stalls, a selective stock of black market wares is hidden, reserved for mercenaries and thugs.

Littered with garbage, it is obvious that no maintenance droids have been programmed to maintain the sector. The surrounding towers have fallen into decay, bits of debris falling every so often into the middle of the street. The duracrete streets are covered in a film of filth and chemicals from the abandoned warehouses, making movement cumbersome when traveling through the most inhabited areas.

Patrols armed with blasters and vibroswords come through these areas regularly, making a show of force to advertise the merits of their ‘protection’ while extorting the occasional shopkeeper. Screams and shouts are a common enough sound, which is never in the refugees’ best interests to interfere in.

Morax prowled the streets of the Nar Shadaa. He had found himself in the bustling refugee sector after a few drinks and realised he was hungry. He hadn’t fed on a life force in awhile and the urge struck him as he wandered the littered gutters of Nar Shadaa. Although there were many he could feed on, a primal instinct was driving him to a back alley where he had sensed a powerful being. As he entered the alley a figure stepped out of the shadows, brandishing an energy bow pointed directly at the Seer.

Caught unaware, the Anzat held up his hands with his palms facing the stranger.

“Morax Darkblade, you are a tough man to find. I hope you will come quietly. House Shar Dakhan has need of your… particular skills. We won’t take no for an answer,” the figure said as he stepped forward to reveal himself.

The Seer let out a small laugh as he recognized the suit the man before him was wearing. Takagari KogaRyu, better known as Darkhawk, had recently become the Aedile of House Shar Dakhan. Why he was here though on behalf of House Shar Dakhan was a mystery, not one he was willing to find out.

In an explosion of movement the Anzat dove backwards out of the alley and into the bustling streets. Unwilling to harm any innocent people, Takagari switched out his bow and reached for his lightsabers. As they ignited he silently stormed out of the alley after the Anzat, his lightsabers trailing behind him leaving scorched marks across the ground. Morax bounced back onto his feet and reached for his own lightsaber, igniting it just in time to block a double attack aimed at his feet. Immediately he noticed he was stronger, despite the physical imposing presence of his opponent.

As they both grunted and exerted more strength into trying to break the lock they had on one another, the Seer was able to assess his opponent and came to the realization that this might end bad for him if Morax did not take the fight seriously. Exerting his full strength, Dakblade broke the lock and pivoted his body backwards, allowing him to escape the attack and put a few steps distance between them before throwing out his hand, aiming at the figure before him and calling upon Force to race from his hand and strike down his enemy with a crackling bolt of electricity. He watched as it leapt from his fingertips and raced towards Takagari.

Lightning illuminated the busy street. Mundanes ran for cover avoiding the onslaught taking place before them. Takagari crossed both sabers and braced for the impact that was racing towards him. Darkblades assault hammered against the Battlemaster, he could feel the power surging through his sabers. Sparks and thunderous booms bellowed through the streets as the cobalt blades took the brunt of the attack.

“Damn he is strong...”

The Seer’s assault continued to slam against the Equite with the strength of crashing waves. Leaning into the onslaught, the Battlemaster redirected the attack to the left side of the street. One of the lightning’s tendrils crashed into a half-illuminated neon sign. The tendril sent the sign crashing to the ground, emitting more color throughout the street. The impact was enough of a distraction to break the attack of the Seer. Morax turned and started to make his way deeper into the panicking crowd.

“This does not have to go down this way Sir, I am only following orders” growled Takagari.

Darkblade turned and faced his fellow Sadowan. The scowl the Seer carried towards the young Equite, if only that could pierce the heart, this melee would be over. “Still a lapdog I see eh DarkHawk? Who sent you Muz, Stahoes or Sang?” snapped the Anzat.

Takagari let a small smirk crest over his face, “Does it matter my Liege, I have a job to do, and I intend on following through with it.”

Darkblade’s scowl grew more profound at the distaste of that comment. Knowing the Battlemaster would be relentless to complete his task. Allowing that anger to build within him, Darkblade once again called upon the Force. A quick forward motion of his arm, sends the then crashed neon sign hurdling at Takagari.

The Equite instinctively raised his sabers to block the attack. Slicing through a section of the sign, the remaining portion clipped Takagari in the left shoulder. The impact was large enough to push the Battlemaster off balance. The Seer maintaining his connection with the Force, heaved the wraith backwards crashing him into a building by way of a Force Push.

The air escaped Takagari's lungs as fast as the attack took place. Rolling over to his back and constricting his solar plexus. He tried to retain what air he had left in his lungs from exiting. The Equite forced himself to inhale. Slowly new air replenished the Sith's lungs and he gasped loudly. One more deep breath, and the Equite kipped himself back up to his feet. Darkblade was making his way to escape, towards the still scouring crowd. A quick survey of the scene. a rickety old fire escape section clinging to one of the adjacent buildings caught Takagari's attention. A quick draw of the Nightsister bow and snapping it into position. Pause, one more quick breath, steady aim, center yourself. The Battlemaster quickly fired three plasma arrows piercing the braces of the rusted-out structure. Hundreds of pounds of rusted metal smashed violently against the streets. Narrowly missing the fleeing Anzat, halting his liberation.

As the thunderous sounds of metal crashing onto the streets died down the Anzat slowly opened his eyes. The carnage before him sent shots of adrenaline pumping through his veins as he viewed the heaps of twisted metal inches away from him. A few seconds passed and a cacophony of moans and screams reached his ears as the survivors buried under the rubble began to call for help. Morax whirled on Takagari, anger in his eyes and fury pulling at his face creating a snarl mixed between twitching cheeks as the Seer struggled to calm his nerves.

A blast of words shot out from Morax’s mind as they pierced through like needle sharp knives directly into the Aediles head.

“You fool! You could have killed me with that shot. I won’t rest until you lie broken and twisted beneath my boot, insect.”

Darkblade let out a furious blood curdling howl as he charged towards his opponent. Adrenaline still coursing through his body gave him the extra speed and strength to cross the distance faster than normal, giving the Battlemaster ample time to fire off a barrage of shots before discarding his bow in haste and reaching behind him. His body screamed at him to move as he released the clasp of a canister and rolled it in front of him, covering his head and ears and praying this would work.

As Morax saw the canister rolling towards him and Takagari preparing himself, he laughed and prepared to carve open the Aedile as he got ever closer to the unfamiliar canister.

FLASH

A brilliant shade of blinding white light met Anzats eyes as a small wave of air crashed into him and all but halted his assault.

BANG

Darkblade screamed in panic as he realized he could not see. As he tried to get his bearings he fell down, his balance disrupted. As Morax crashed to the ground he also realized he could not hear anything. Fear curled around his heart like a snake squeezing the life from its prey. Growing ever tighter, the panic took over and froze Darkblade on the ground, his mind hoping that it would all end soon.

A heavy weight on top of him signaled that someone was holding him down, tying his hands and feet together. As Morax’s vision returned to him, albeit with spots of white still impairing his vision, he was able to recognize the Battlemaster. Morax felt himself hauled up and tossed nonchalantly over Takagari's shoulder. Lips were moving as if he was talking to him but the Seer couldn’t make out any words as he was carried off like a sack of meat unable to do anything. Cursing internally Darkblade tried to come up with a strategy of how to get out of this situation. This was not over yet.

The Seer dodged to his left, coming to a sliding halt as the mass of rusted metal crashed to the street. A dark cloud of dust and debris engulfed the scene hindering Darkblade’s sight. He knew the path was blocked, coming to that realization infuriated the Morax. A part of him was thoroughly impressed with his friend and colleague. That feeling, however, quickly succumbed to unadulterated hatred. The anger flowed through the former Quaestor of House Shar Dakhan. He needed to feed, not in the sense of the lay-person, Anzati fed on what is commonly referred to as “soup” the life force of another.

DarkHawk could feel the hatred seethe within his comrade. Takagari knew the Seer needed to feed. The Summit of Clan Naga Sadow instructed DarkHawk to bring him back in one piece. Darkblade had been on a feeding binge, leaving a trail of corpses throughout the city. This characteristic was not conducive of the Seer, his “feedings” were always more discrete. The Equite also knew that Anzati become much powerful when they feed on those who are Force-sensitive. DarkHawk contemplated keeping his distance from the Seer. Avoid giving any chance to Morax Darkblade of locking in his skill of mind control, extinguishing the will to fight from the Sith. Forcing the Seer to a hand to hand exchange would be his only option. That option, however, could be fatal.

The black-clad wraith reached out to the Force, allowing the essence of its power to flow freely through him. Launching himself into a full sprint, DarkHawk raced toward the Seer. Darkblade had already begun to spin around to face his aggressor. The veil of dust still suspended over the streets, this, in turn, was an opportunity the Sith intended to exploit. Midway through the Seer’s revolution, his keen peripheral vision caught the absence of his fellow Equite from his previous position. Darkblade’s instinct immediately alerted him to the fact, Takagari was closing the gap. That keen aptitude, painfully solidified Morax as the hulking Sith’s tackle was surprisingly unexpected. DarkHawk drove his left shoulder into the center mass of the Seer’s chest. The Aedile's impact sent Darkblade hurdling backward into the fallen assemblage of steel.

DarkHawk held a prudent measure of restraint as he drove his body through the attack. The intent is to incapacitate, not maim. The pain from the impact, however, resonated through the shoulder. The Equite winced as he grabbed and rotated the shoulder. Darkblade moaned, shaking his head to regain his composure. The Seer struggled to get to his feet, he was on all fours attempting to put his feet under himself. DarkHawk hooked his arm under his fellow Sadowan’s arm aiding him to his feet. The ploy was successful. The Anzat unleased his prowess of mind manipulation upon the unsuspecting Shaevalian. Morax Darkblade had a lifetime of honing this skill, bewitching his victims before he fed. The recent days of binge feeding had left him in a state of inebriation. His control over the action luckily was not as precise as a result of the binging.

Takagari felt himself succumbing to the Seer’s hypnotic aptitude. The Sith could feel his body rapidly falling limp, his will to fight diminishing. He watched the two proboscises emerge from Morax’s cheek pockets. They moved like serpents adding to the hypnotic trance the Seer maintained over him. DarkHawk could feel one of the tendrils pulling at his balaclava to gain access to the nasal passage and finally embedding into the cranium. Takagari KogaRyu struggled to regain some coherent ability to break free, it would only be a matter of seconds before the feeding frenzy. Morax’s eyes were glazed over with an insatiable need to feed, bringing him closer to nirvana.

The Shaevalian delved deep into his psyche, struggling to grasp a hold of the remaining remnants of his reality. The Battlemaster called on the Force, drinking deeply of the dark side, lightning leaped from his fingertips to the face of Darkblade, eliciting a growl of pain and frustration. DarkHawk grabbed each tendril with his hands and reared his head back and drove his forehead into the face of the Seer.

Cartlidge cracked like twigs as Darkblade’s nose exploded. Blood poured from his nostrils, his eyes submerged in water from the blow. Takagari grasped the Seer’s right arm with his left hand, twisting it, pulling him off balance. Simultaneously grabbing Morax by the neck with his free arm, the Sith coiled his right leg around the right leg of the Seer. This time, Takagari did not hold back, as he swept the leg. The Aedile hoisted Darkblade into the air and slammed him to the ground. The impact was hard, DarkHawk felt the back of his comrade’s skull bounce off the pavement. His body expelled all the air remaining in his lungs. Rolling away and kipping up to his feet, Takagari assessed the fallen Morax DarkBlade. This time he cautiously leaned in to check his breathing. The Anzat was out cold, a deep sigh of relief exited the Equite. Grabbing his friend and scooping him up cradling the limp body over his shoulder’s, making a hasty exit, “Come on old friend its time to go home…”