From space, Malachor seems no more than a lifeless ball of ash. In the center of an open crater, however, lies the ancient Sith Temple. This colossal pyramid of black stone is the relic of a disastrous battle between the forces of darkness and light thousands of years ago.

Though the surface of Malachor has a breathable atmosphere, the air is dead still, and there is no sign of life. The caldera housing the Temple is a tableau of the terrible struggle that took place here so many millennia ago. Scattered through the causeways and crumbling boulders are the petrified figures of the foregone combatants, their hands raised eternally against whatever cataclysm took the life from their bodies. Some still grasp their Jedi weapons, though most likely the life is gone from them too. The pallid white light of the sun spreads unhindered through the crater, but it does little to illumine the intrinsic darkness of the stones.

The Sith Temple is not a place of the light side. It is said the very stones react to the touch of the dark side. The pyramid itself is seemingly inaccessible, though its blocked entrance is associated with an old saying: “Two must lift these stones, no more, no less.” Despite its undeniable age, the crater is littered with signs of a more recent calamity; ash and debris, columns toppled outwards from the Temple, broken arches. It is as though the millennial dust stirred, briefly, then returned to its repose under the sun.

The darkness hummed.

If shadows lived, it would be here, where the wailing wraiths of those long-decimated whispered in the walls. Their fear was an echo, their agony ancient, but it lingered, haunting, soaked into the stone and steeped under the ash.

Rrogon Skar breathed deep of it and shuddered.

It was euphoric, being here. Painless, which was so completely abnormal to him. He felt so full, so clear, cocooned in the darkness that was patient and generous with him. No part of it was calm or gentle, but the absolution was real. The ground beneath him was consecrated in cleansing anguish, a burn so deep it numbed, and it breathed into him like he breathed into the black.

The Dark was good.

Rrogon slitted his sulfuric yellow eyes open just enough to peer around the dim crater. The Dark had shivered, and he'd felt it as keenly as a breath ghosting over his scales. He was no longer alone.

Almost regretfully, the Juggernaut rose to his feet with the whir of servos. His bionic parts gleamed dull before his dark robes fell over them, hiding his body completely from sight. It seemed his meditations were over, at least until he'd sussed out what insolent spark of life had dared to tread in this sacred sepulcher of Sith power.

The cyborg prowled about, claws resting on his saber hilt, metallic feet scraping across the rock with a slow, soft screee. His burning eyes darted everywhere, searching. Everything was cold and dark—

A flash of reddishness in his vision, a source of heat.

He whirled, his blue saber unfurling in his grasp, but even as he turned to face the living object, his senses screamed, signalling danger coming fast behind him. The Sith pivoted again, bringing his blade around in a two-handed swing with supernatural strength. Molten orange flared as a metal limb sheared clean and clattered to the ground, Skar's saber carrying effortlessly on to bisect the tall torso of a KY-security droid as it attempted to grab him. The droid toppled and the Kaleesh moved again just as two smaller items clattered down to his feet.

The grenades issued a pale poison and the cyborg found himself swallowed by their combined cloud in a heartbeat. He felt his throat burning and constricting and stumbled, tripping over the droid's corpse. It took him to a knee as he coughed and gagged, senses barraged by a constant drone of alarm. He struggled upright and inhaled the Dark Side along with another mouthful of gas, effortlessly twisting it to his indomitable will and directing it in an incredible push.

The blast of force punched through the cloud, creating an opening. He launched himself through it in an augmented leap, sailing in a short arc before landing. Drawing himself up, shaking and hacking, he held tight to the Force to heal his dissolving insides.

He wasn't given much time.

That form of heat appeared again, dropping down a few meters from atop a rocky outcropping, a gun pointed right at him. Familiar eyes glared at him from behind a breath mask.

Satsi Tameike.

"You are worse than a mynock," snarled the Kaleesh, his modulated voice a rasp of ruin. Everywhere he'd gone since his return to Dajorra, she had been there.

When he'd first arrived on the planet, he hadn't even made it to the Citadel before she'd come shot him with a rocket launcher, blowing off his remaining limbs. He'd barely survived, the pulpy remains of his head and torso scraped off the smoldering streets, kept alive only by machine machinations by Qyreia. The recovery was nonexistent; instead he swore himself to service as the Quaestor's Aedile, functioning in constant agony that had developed into the background hurts of his sleepless days and nights. But even though Tameike left the Summit, she was still always there, hovering at the edges of meetings and events the same way the Arconae skulked, watching him. He was certain she was having him followed even when he knew she was elsewhere. The attempt on his life wasn't enough. She had latched like a leech, refusing to be shaken free.

"Die already," the Human hissed, squeezing the trigger, but her bravado was somewhat undone by his charging at her at a dead sprint, bypassing her bullet.

Satsi cursed, backpedaling from her crouch, but she was too slow and he the superior. He swung his lightsaber with unbridled aggression, slicing a shallow flame across her flank as she ducked away. She screeched, delighting him as he continued a chain of dominating, brutal attacks, driving her back across the cavern as she contorted to dodge. Many burning cuts appeared on her body and armor, and her sounds of pain grew louder.

The Kaleesh spun his blade, preparing to bring it down in an executing move, but the woman crouched and launched herself at him, chambered kick spinning into the side of his head. He staggered from the crack but recovered quickly, snarling and swiping at her again.

This time, though, his weapon caught on another beam of plasma, and his reptilian eyes flared in surprise and hunger. Satsi spat at him over their locked lightsabers, her bleeding arms trembling slightly, though they seemed matched in strength.

"I'm going to carve out your entrails," menaced the Sith, rage roiling in his gut. "I'm going to feed them to you so you know how sick you make me and then I will return to Selen and drag that pathetic cripple of a brother of yours and your mutant bastard spawn into the streets and butcher them for all to see. I'll hang them from the rooftops and let them burn alive. Make a spectacle for the crowd. Raise some funds for a good deed, perhaps."

For once Satsi didn't respond with her own threats. She just shouted in inarticulate rage and shoved hard at their lock, blades singing as they slid free.

Rrogon’s metallic feet slid back along the burned and scarred ground, scraping in protest from the woman's shove, there was a sick and twisted delight roaring inside the Sith as he strode forward again each step he took grinding into the floor of the temple. He wanted this for so long, to fight her again and finally put this throne into an early grave.

Wielding his saber in his hand, the Kaleesh’s lightsaber slammed into the Mercenaries crimson blade, the hammer blow being met with equal force as the Reaver moved into the strike soldering the blow with ease. Snarling in anger, the Sith’s blade slid up and over the shoto’s shoulder blade before it attempted to slice the woman in half.

Again, the Arconan blocked the Juggernauts blade and held it in place. Skar’s eyes narrowed down at the woman. “I don't know how you got that lightsaber, Satsi, but it doesn't belong to someone like you,” he hissed before leaping back several feet, his left hand dropping to his waist holster and pulling his slugthrower free.

The reaver had just enough time to begin moving before the first round was fired, the bullet only grazing her shoulder. Not wanting to get hit again, the Mercenary charged forward ducking over the Stih’s gun and slicing upward cutting the weapon in half. However, the strike left her open to the former Gladiator’s superior speed as he sized her wrist and pulled her into a crushing head-butt as the Sith’s bone mask slammed down into the bridge of her nose.

The Human woman didn’t stagger back in pain, she only grinned and moved her free hand around the Sith’s arm that was holding her, twisting around the metal until she had a solid hold enough to lift herself up and slam both feet into the Juggernaut’s lower waist. Rrogon began to cackle as he felt the wind almost escape him.

Skar pulled into himself and called on the force, reveling as the darkness of the temple flowed into him like a flood of power filing his limbs with unnatural strength. Using the women's momentum to his advantage, he easily lifted her over head head and slammed her into the ground.

Her grip slipped and she hit the solid floor, a grunt of pain escaped her lips before she rolled to her feet once more, her free hand pulling out a gleaming dagger. Rushing forward, she engaged the sith in combat once more. The Crimson lightsaber was the first to meet the dark blue blade of the Kaleesh’s as he deflected to the side only to duck onto the stage of the dagger that was aimed for this neck.

The Reaver didn't give the Juggernaut time to rest the twin blade, becoming a whirling tornado of death and plasma. The Sith; however, was not fazed by the frenzy of the human, his lightsaber meeting each strike Satsi was throwing at him. Though the Kaleesh was forced to back up so that he had enough time to react and counter the Mercenary.

He loved this fight so much; it was too long since he had fought in an full out brawl like this, it reminded him much of the pit fight he was forced to partake in on Nar Shaddaa and even though those memories filled him with pain in his long gone limbs, they also fueled him to keep fighting.

Roaring in rage, the Sith flung his hand forward and channeled that rage into the wall of force that sprang to life, slamming into the Reaver’s chest sending her flying back ten feet before she landed on her rear. Sasti had looked up to find the Kaleesh but saw nothing before he whipped her head up further and saw the Sith in the air bearing down on her, his lightsaber posed to impale the Arconan to the floor.

“Time to die slime!” Screamed the Sith as his hulking form loomed high over the woman.

The Human managed to roll aside enough to avoid being impaled by his saber, but couldn't escape the impact zone. Skar's metallic feet punched into the rock with punishing force, ripping up small shards of stone while his blade carved molten splashes from the ground. The woman shouted out as the debris sprayed over her, scrambling away while the Kaleesh rose back to his full height. His predator's eyes flicked over her.

She'd lost possession of her breath mask and pistol both at some point early in the fray, and blood dribbled freely from her nose and chin. Her arm bled where it had been grazed, and her every breath sounded pained. She probably had internal damage from his throws, and her back and arms were shredded with shallow, ragged holes and splotchy circular burns. He savored how every part of her likely hurt somehow.

Still, Tameike reignited the lightsaber she'd held on to. She raised it and her dagger, poised to reengage no matter how foolish it was.

"You've no idea how to use that weapon, and you don't deserve to try. I'll be sure to kill your family with it so it has a taste of a proper master."

"My twin gave me this," she said, "because I wasn't going to stop fighting sparkies like you. I might not be one of you people, but I will be damned before I let you think for a second you're more than me just 'cause you're better."

The Sith rasped a mangled, mechanically-modulated chuckle.

"I don't think, Satsi. I know."

"Oh, shut the hell up," Satsi spat, and charged him again.

Skar was ready. He braced his feet with a moment's concentration, anchoring himself in the gluttonous darkness around him. When she crashed into him, plasma screaming against plasma, he didn't so much as stagger an inch. It was as if she'd run headlong into a wall, driving her back instead. The woman reeled, and he used that moment to unleash a devastating chain of attacks that parried away her saber, split open her guard, and knocked her dagger free of her hand with a single, powerful two-handed stroke.

Satsi growled and came at him again. The Kaleesh laughed outright, easily reflecting her simple stabs and strikes with aggressive flourishes of his own lightsaber, the Force guiding his blade. Though the brawl had filled him with glee, it was clearly drawing to a close. Satsi was steadily growing sloppier. She thrust, cut, and hacked; Skar dodged, ducked, and deflected, then returned each attack with supernatural strength and speed. The woman cried out in frustrated dismay as he finally grew bored and beat her weapon out of her grip with a dominating series of blows. The old saber sputtered as it fell, casting them back into shadow lit only by the sapphire glow of his sword.

He moved to slice her in two, but the Human wasn't giving up. She ducked forward like a boxer and tackled him around his middle, trying and failing to carry both of them to the ground. The massive Kaleesh wobbled but didn't drop, leaving his enemy to writhe against him, trying to plant her feet and shove him over, arms coiling around his own. He dropped his lightsaber in favor of shoving back and bending his cybernetic knee joints. He was trained for stand-up flighting. She would never take him off his feet. Mirth bubbled in his hollowed out chest once more that she continued to try.

"You'll never beat me, Satsi," chuckled the Sith, eyes burning. But when he looked down, her glare was steady, even...excited?

"I don't have to beat you," the woman replied, clutching him tighter. "I just have to hold on long enough."

"Long enough for what—" But then he saw it. On her belt. One of her grenades was active, thrumming rapidly.

"You wouldn't," snarled the Kaleesh, freezing in anticipation. "You want your brother and brat too much."

"Wrong. I want them to be alive and happy, and you're in the way of that. They'll have each other, they don't need me."

"You're lying. I know how you play."

"Am I? Try me. Go on, take a look inside."

Sneering, Skar threw his mental force at her mind like a spear thrown in the fighting pits. He encountered no resistance, plummeting directly into the depths of her thoughts, which weren't the riot he expected. It was actually quite calm, fixated mostly on memories of Uji and their daughter, tinged by mammalian instinct. The one thread repeating like a mantra to steel her nerves was clear: he knows to tell her I didn't want to leave her, he knows to tell her I loved her, she'll know.

Rrogon Skar spat a curse. Satsi Tameike grinned and contorted her limbs, hopping up suddenly and locking her legs and arms around him like a primate around a tree. That live and deadly grenade stayed sandwiched between their bodies. The Kaleesh roared and writhed, trying to throw her off of him. His metal hands clawed to pry her limbs free, gouging out flesh, but she didn't let go. He rained elbows and knees down on her and slammed his chin into her head but she wouldn't let go.

"NO!" bellowed the cyborg. He pulled the Dark into him and wrapped desperate telekinetic hands around Satsi and around the grenade. Both lifted away from him in his doubled grip, she squirming in midair, the bomb sent sailing away as hard as he could throw it. He tried to dive away.

It went off before even a few meters had been cleared.

The sonic blast rocked through him and the cave both. The last things he knew were the screams of rending rock and the pain of his eardrums bursting from the boom before everything collapsed around both he and Satsi. Malachor buried them and the blackness that claimed him then was more absolute than it had ever been before.

The wind whipped by the Sith’s face as he descended down on the woman, lightsaber humming in his hands, its blade aimed right for the center of her chest where the woman's cold heart was. A bellow of rage escaped the Kaleesh’s lips as he brought the blade down. At the last second, the reaver rolled out of the way, her abdomen only clipped by the blade of plasma rather than impaled.

The Arconan let out a cry of anguish from the burn now left in her side but she quickly recovered and spun her legs around to kick the lightsaber out of the juggernaut’s hand, sending it flying out of sight. The former gladiator snarled and balled his fists in rage as he wheeled on the mercenary, who quickly climbed to her feet and charged the weaponless Sith.

Skar was quickly set back on his heels as the ravenous woman’s blades flashed and stabbed at him, each one almost screaming out for blood in their own unique voice; every strike meant to kill, each movement calculated to murder the Kaleesh. The Sith’s hands and body moved like water, slipping just under the plasma and metal blades. The metallic limbs whined and wheezed with the strain of the continuous combat.

Sweat began to poor down the Kaleesh’s face, stinging his eyes and making his mask hot like a furnace. The juggernaut could see the reaver sweating just like him but neither of them were flagging from exhaustion. They could have gone like this for a while; each side pushing back and forth against the bulwark of stamina each of them boasted, neither giving in.

It's just who they were. Two immovable objects, clashing in the dark underground temple, the rage they had for each other fueling the darkness of the ruin itself like those Jedi and Sith of the past had long ago. Ducking under the woman’s shoto saber, the Kaleesh grabbed her arm and used the reaver’s momentum to flip the lighter woman up and over and onto her back, where she crashed down with a grunt of pain.

Turning around, the Sith tried to reach for the Arconann’s throat, but the mercenary’s legs had already shot up and wrapped around the juggernaut’s neck in a pincer hold, cutting off the blood and air flow. The Kaleesh struggled to breathe as his vision began to blur red. Reaching down into himself, for what would most likely be the last time, he pulled on the Dark Side and felt the energy flow into him as he lifted the Satsi clear off the ground.

Using this surge of energy, he slammed her down into the ground repeatedly, trying to make her break the hold she had on his neck, but she just gritted her teeth and held on for dear life. The bionic spine was the only thing saving her from shattering her back. A strangled roar of desperation came croaking out of the Sith’s mouth as his other hand seized one of the Arconan’s and slowly, with effort, began to pull it off of his neck.

For his effort the Sith felt a flash of fire in his upper chest as the dagger was thrust deep into his flesh, the blade nearly ripping apart his ribs and internal organs. Skar would not allow her another chance to strike again. He pulled the leg free and tossed her away from his body. Exhausted, he fell to one knee, panting heavily.

Looking up, the Sith saw the Arconae rise to her feet once more, blade in hand, the knife dripping with crimson blood. Soul shattering anger roared in Rrogon’s heart and he rushed the woman; the blind fury willing him to mutilate the pest in front of him. As he lost himself in the feeling, it was only amplified by the Dark Side energy flowing into the back of his mind, whispering to him.

That was his downfall as he felt fire engulf his chest.

Looking down he saw the Shoto’s vibrant blade embedded in his sternum the plasma turning his insides to vapor. Luckily they had not hit anything immediately fatal, but this he would not survive. Falling to his knees he looked up at the woman whose eyes gleamed with anger as his body shook with rage.

“Do it,” the Sith hissed his voice barely audible. “Finish me.”

The humming blade was extracted from his chest, letting him fall to the floor —flat on his back. he woman stood over him Lightsaber aimed clear for his heart.

“Why should I give you the peace of the grave, scum, a simple and quick death is not something you deserve!” she screamed at him, her words spewing like venom.

“You think that this is living?” he asked simply, his words coming harsh and slow, the pain of the wound already sapping the life from him.

“What?!” She asked, confusion flickering on her face as she looked into those burning red eyes of the dying Sith

“This body is nothing but pain, I don't eat, I barely sleep, and every day I have you and so many others stalking me just waiting for the chance to take my life,” he rasped, lifting his hand to try and touch her and give what respect and honor he had left.

His metallic hand wrapped around the back of her own, weakly squeezing it.

“You did this to me Satsi, it's only fitting that you end it.” Confusion rippled on her face before it darkened, cold calm coming over it. The last thing the Sith saw was the lightsaber’s blade plunging into his chest before his world turned to black.