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.

The Onderonian remained in a crouched position on one of the lower branches of the massive tree in the courtyard, keeping an eye out for the first of those loyal to the Quaestors to appear. A cloak of Force energy kept Celevon out of sight of the occasional patrol. As this was the place where the man preferred to relax whenever he visited Selen, the amount told him the remaining presence had increased security.

The approach of a familiar figure caused the Assassin’s lips to curve into a smirk beneath the mask of durasteel. Time to play a little game...

The Battleteam Leader sank inward as he gathered his power, directing it to work around the young Kaleesh.

~()~

“Nice time for a walk, eh?”

The painfully familiar voice caused a rush of hatred to burst through the Juggernaut as he pivoted on the spot. Rrogon drew his Outland Rifle. “Die, you frakking traitor!”

The Quartermaster depressed the trigger, feeling the kick of recoil against his shoulder as the projectile exited. He blinked as the body of the Prelate dissipated in wisps of smoke the moment the slug passed through. “What the-”

Skar ejected the round and chambered a new one, glancing around warily. A shrouded figure slowly appeared from the shadows. The Knight gave his former Battleteam Leader no time to speak, firing a round straight through the Onderonian, though he disappeared in much the same manner as before.

“Did you really think I would be so easy to dispatch?”

The Juggernaut spun in place, firing the newly chambered round at where he briefly sensed the Prelate. “Where are you?!” Rrogon snarled, his voice echoing around the Courtyard. Celevon’s voice had seemed to echo from everywhere, with no clear origin.

Just as Skar went to chamber a new round, the rifle was ripped from his hands and flung against a far wall. The member of the AGV Nighthawk wasted no time in reaching for his belt, unclipping his lightsaber. The emerald blade erupted into existence as the Kaleesh held the gleaming hilt in a loose grip, the weapon held in a low guard.

“You’re clearly here for a reason, Edraven! Stop hiding!”

“If that is your wish,” the Qel-Droman replied as he dropped from the branch. His cobalt blade slithered to life, the tip pointed at the grass as his cloak rippled with each step toward the Knight. “Let’s see if your skill with a lightsaber has improved.”

Skar stepped toward his old Battleteam leader fear and rage swirling inside of him as the two came closer. Steeling himself, the young Quartermaster brought his blade up, ready to strike, mirroring his former leader movements. Once they were both striking distance their blades met with thunderous strikes as the Onderonian pushed the young outmatched Kaleesh back into the courtyard.

Grimacing beneath his mask, Skar knew his odd’s in this fight were stacked against him. Edraven knew him too well to be caught off guard by his standard attacks. He needed to throw the Prelate off balance and grab his rifle, if Skar succeeded the battle would shift in his favor. Glancing behind the older Obelisk, Skar could see where his rifle had landed against the wall but the powerful assassin was in his way.

Once more the two warrior’s sabers struck one another and forced the combatants into a saber lock, neither giving way to the other’s strength. Rogon became increasingly angry with this whole situation; he never wanted to fight his fellow clanmates. Hell, this whole thing just pissed him off.

Growling, Skar used his strength to push the human back until he was able to stretch out his finger. Torrents of blue force shock gathered in the Khaleesh’s fingers before leaping into into the Equite’s chest. Celevon staggered back for a few seconds giving Skar the chance he needed, dashing past the human, sprinting as fast as he could towards the rifle.Rrogon quickly glanced behind him seeing that Edraven had already recovered and was moving to cut him off before the Kaleesh could reach his gun.

Panicking Skar looked around for anything that might help him but all he saw was the large tree the he was running past. Skar stopped suddenly as an idea popped into his head. With a Swinging motion of his saber around he cut clean through the thick trunk of the tree. Raising both of his hands, he reached out and gripped the top of the tree with the Force and used all of his strength to pull the massive trunk down at his former Battleteam leader. The Human dived out of the way at the last second as massive tree as it crashed into the stone floor with a mighty crash.

Resuming his run Skar reached his loaded outland Rifle in no time. Bringing the sniper rifle around Rrogon readed himself for Celevon’s next attack.

The Qel-Droman immediately thrust out his left hand, Force energy surging from his palm. It struck the fingers curled around the grip of the rifle with the intensity of a sledgehammer, the pain causing the Kaleesh to involuntarily drop the weapon.

“Clearly you don’t pay attention when it comes to your job, Quartermaster,” Celevon sneered, vitriol spewing from his lips with the title.

The Juggernaut glared at his former Battleteam Leader, his hatred of the man growing by the moment. It was further exacerbated by the Equite’s criticism of his skills. “What are you ta-”

“Either that or you’re severely lacking in the brain area. So, which is it? Were you acting impulsively, or are you just a di’kut by nature?” The Onderonian interrupted the Knight, his features concealed by the durasteel mask. Despite the mask, the Equite’s snide tones shone through.

“If you wouldn’t interrupt me,” Rrogon growled, pausing only long enough to ensure that the Assassin would not cut him off in the midst of the question. “What are you talking about?”

“You have an outdated slugthrower that smacked into a stone wall and you’re going to try to fire it? Do you have a death wish, mir’osik? Or do you have some twiste-” the Prelate was caught off-guard by the bolt of electricity that struck his mask, channeling the pure hatred transferred to Force energy across his face. Celevon turned away as he moved to rip the mask free.

Skar leapt and rolled immediately after the energy left his fingers. Ignoring the direction from the Equite, the young Kaleesh grabbed the Outland Rifle and pointed it at the Human’s exposed back. As he pulled the trigger, there was an explosion of the chemicals within the round, though not in the way it was supposed to function.

Shards of the superheated shrapnel dug into the Journeyman’s face and upper torso, the heat immediately cauterizing the wounds as they imbedded themselves within the Knight’s flesh. The Juggernaut groaned as he reached for a jagged piece of the barrel that had embedded itself between his ribs. Rrogon withdrew his hand immediately with a hiss of pain as the metal scalded the sensitive flesh of his palm.

“I see nothing has changed since you served under me. You still rely on impulse more than knowledge or skill,” the Assassin drawled, his piercing argent gaze visible now that the mask had been discarded. Celevon raised his still-humming cobalt blade parallel to the ground, poised to behead his opponent.

“Go on, kill me. My brethren will avenge me and your traitorous allies will fall,” Skar hissed, his eyes drawn to the lightsaber. A frown creased the Kaleesh’s brows as the weapon was deactivated. “I never took you for the merciful sort.”

“Merciful? Hardly,” the Prelate chuckled, an icy gleam to his mercurial eyes. “I think death would be merciful at this stage. No, you shall live and bear the scars of shame brought upon by stupidity. That is punishment enough.”

A smirk curved the Onderonian’s lips moments before he faded from view, leaving the Knight to the silence of the courtyard until the next patrol came through.

Rrogon was scanning his surroundings when a slight movement caught his,eye one of the shadows to his left was moving, even if it was ever so slightly towards him. Rrogon’s vision shifted to heat vision and he could finally see Edraven through the veil of darkness that surrounded him like a cloak.

It was still hard to see Celevon but he still brought his rifle to bear on his target slowly squeezing down on the trigger. Rrogon’s eyes slammed shut as the barrel of his outland rifle exploded sending shrapnel all over his body, roaring in outrage, Skar slammed the Sniper rifle down to the ground and charged the Human, not even caring to draw his saber in the process.

Letting the Dark side flow through his veins and muscles, Skar pushed himself to the limit of his own speed and in no time he was bearing down on his former battle team leader. With righteous fury burning in his eyes, he seized the folds of the robes that Celevon was wearing and pulled with all his might, tearing the older man off his feet and sending him flying across the courtyard.

A harsh sting grew in Rrogon’s left arm as the held the man in his grasp, the Human dug a curved dagger deep into Skar’s forearm severing muscle and bone alike before he was flung away from the young Kaleesh. Falling to one knee, the pain that Rrogon felt all over his body was excruciating, the shrapnel had done more damage than he first thought it was getting harder to breath as he could feel the blood filling his lungs.

Dame shrapnel punctured my lungs if I don't get help i'm going to die here…. He thought to himself as he glanced down at his arm. He tried to flex his hand but it was no good, the muscles that controlled them had been severed by the keen blade that Celevon had hidden within his robes.

Looking back up he saw Everden making his way back over to him lightsaber in hand grinning, Rrogon reached up and removed the mask that covered his face revealing the patchwork of burns and scars that marred his young features.

Struggling to stand he tossed the mask aside and reignited his own lightsaber electing a quirking of Celevon’s head, but a sense of understanding fell over his former battle team leader.

Rrogon would face his end with a glee in his heart and a smile on his face, so it was with all great warriors: and so Skar started to stagger over towards Celevon as his vision bluerd from blood loss.

Skar began to see images of those that he had come to know within the Brotherhood everyone from Kanis Da`uul the one who had found him to his his fellow crew members of the Nighthawk.

He was only a few steps away from Celevon when Skar saw one last face in his blurred vision, it was the face of a young Kaleesh girl that he had grown to love and was even set to marry before his brother betrayed him and sold him into slavery. Reaching out trying to grasp the shining bit of hope Rrogon finally collapsed onto the ground at the feet of Celevon, the Kaleesh’s lightsaber fell from his hand, laying dead on the cold courtyard alongside its master.

Ederven just looked at the corpse of his former friend before turning to leave to find another target to hunt.