The Vertical City, Nar Shaddaa. They call it the Smuggler's Moon—an apt description based on the myriad of sentients shuffling back and forth with their illegal wares and hidden weapons. The narrow streets below criss-cross endlessly, soaring miles above the planet's surface. Exposed and uncovered, the streets offer a nearly perfect setting for someone with some skills with ranged weapons. A vantage point on the ledge of a towering structure of glass and steel offers a dizzying view of the cityscape.

Simple shops and merchants peddle both legitimate and illegitimate wares. Storefronts are just as plentiful as open-market pop-up tents, and the cantina's adapt the same lowlife air as the rest of the Smuggler's Moon. Enemies could be hidden in plain sight, whether one of the Hutts’ gangsters or mercenaries-for-hire looking to earn some credits. The streets are plagued with violent gangs and the general riff raff of the poor and destitute. They may be an ideal place for blasters, but the winding streets are difficult to disappear from. An opponent would be easily boxed in and simple to finish with a few quick slashes of a lightsaber. The moon is dangerous—even for one gifted in the Force.

They never have anything interesting here, Erinyes thought as she tossed yet another counterfeit designer top on to the tent-store’s table. When it came to standard underworld fare like weapons, illicit drugs, or starship parts, Nar Shaddaa was a world of weird and wonderful hidden gems lurking in the manic press of bodies it called a market—but to the Adept’s chagrin, every item of clothing that wasn’t armoured (and some that were) was a cheap, slavish copy of the latest catwalk fare on Coruscant or Procopia. Why couldn’t more criminally-eccentric geniuses go into fashion design? Sighing, Erinyes half-heartedly picked up a different garment, more to see if she’d missed anything underneath it than out of any interest in the piece itself.

As the Adept reluctantly accepted that she wouldn’t be expanding her wardrobe today, a soft, sing-song voice came from behind her. “The other one matched your eyes better.”

Erinyes managed not to jump as she turned to look at the new arrival: a bipedal canine with pale fur and bright, inquisitive eyes, swathed in armoured robes that apparently made his steps as silent as the grave. “That’s sweet of you. A little creepy, but sweet. Have we met before?” She unscrewed the cap of her mostly-empty bottle of Chandrilan tsiraki and took a swig.

The wolf-man’s ears spread slightly, and good cheer flashed across his eyes as he showed his teeth in the Shistavanen version of a smile. “No, we haven’t. Augur Mune Cinteroph, of the Antei Combat Center.” He inclined his head in greeting. “My visions showed me that you would seek to return to the fold, and I wanted to meet you for myself.”

“So you’re a seer, eh? Did your ‘visions’ happen to include a peek at the Combat Master’s message terminal?” Erinyes smirked.

Mune’s smile broadened. “I only found out you’d contacted him when I was already on my way here—although he did confirm your identity for me. Which, honestly, has made me even more curious,” he said.

Erinyes kept her eye on the Shistavanen as she drained the last of the liquor from her bottle, suddenly grateful that her Zeltron metabolism had kept her from getting anything more than buzzed. “Curious about what?”

“About whether your skills have dulled any since you were Combat Master.” Mune’s ears perked straight upward, and a tingle in the Force ran up Erinyes’ spine as the glimmer in his ruby eyes transformed from amused to predatory.

“Yeah, I had a feeling you were going to say that.” Thanks to her brief glimpse into the future, the Adept chucked her empty bottle at exactly the right moment to interrupt the Shistavanen’s advance—or what would have been exactly the right moment, if Mune had been where he needed to be for the bottle to hit him instead of sidestepping the projectile. Ugh, having a sixth sense is only fun when I do it, Erinyes thought as her main-hand lightsaber, Glamour, fell into her palm. The crowded street erupted into a cacophony as three snap-hisses heralded the ignition of three different lightsaber blades, two violet and one aquamarine.

Bystanders scattered in all directions as Erinyes lunged at Mune with a two-handed cut that rose up the centre of his body. With the unhurried ease of someone who knew exactly what was about to happen—because the fluffy bastard did know exactly what was about to happen, Erinyes grumbled to herself—Mune flipped his lightsabers into an X shape and stabbed downward to stop Erinyes’ weapon in its tracks, then used his violet-bladed shoto to push the Adept’s lightsaber to one side while he brought his full-sized weapon around to strike at the back of her head.

Erinyes ducked and harnessed the momentum of Mune’s parry to spin and take another step forward as Mune’s aquamarine blade buzzed over her. Shifting to a left-handed grip, low on the hilt for extra reach, the Adept whipped her lightsaber into a horizontal arc aimed at her opponent’s knees. Once again, it took barely a flick of the wrist for Mune to put his lightsaber in exactly the right position to parry Erinyes’ strike.

As their blades met, Erinyes tapped her lightsaber’s activation stud. The Augur’s guard wobbled ever so slightly as the resistance he’d been pressing his main-hand weapon against melted away. Erinyes flipped her lightsaber into a reverse grip, and Mune’s eyes widened when he saw her weapon’s blade reappear between his own lightsabers and his stomach. The Shistavanen threw himself forward, flipping tail over ear-tips in mid-air to avoid the slash before landing flat on his back. Gripping her lightsaber with both hands, Erinyes pivoted and raised her weapon for a downward stab—but before the blow could land, an invisible battering ram struck the Adept and sent her flying.

Luckily, after drawing the Force into her limbs, it was a simple matter for Erinyes to backflip and land on her feet—even if she did have to drop to one knee and skid a few metres afterward. Kriff, he hits like a charging bantha, Erinyes thought as she took an experimental breath. To her relief, she didn’t feel any sharp pains, or even much in the way of bruising. A dozen paces away, Mune finished picking himself up and started to stalk toward Erinyes with an expression that looked an awful lot like a snarl. If she hadn’t seen his tail wagging cheerfully behind him, she might’ve thought he was actually trying to kill her instead of just “testing” her.

Not like it couldn’t be both, some upstart part of her brain reminded her, unhelpfully.

Erinyes pushed herself to a stand. By now, the bystanders in the area had gotten over their initial panic, and a curious crowd was starting to form around the two Brotherhood members. Two of the members of said crowd were a pair of very shapely female Twi’leks, and even in the midst of a battle, Erinyes couldn’t help but gawk at them for a split-second. Unfortunately, Mune picked up on the Adept’s distractedness, and took the opportunity to reach out with the Force and hurl a nearby fruit vendor’s table at her. Too preoccupied with the scenery to notice the tingle of danger running up her spine, Erinyes only realised what was happening when the table slammed into her side, knocking her off-balance and covering her with pieces of smashed shuuras and jogan fruits.

“It seems your sabbatical has been easy on you,” Mune called out from down the causeway, tail still wagging in amusement.

“Almost as easy as I’ve been on you,” Erinyes retorted, wiping pieces of sticky pulp off her face. She was sorely tempted to cut open a water main and rinse herself off, but that would have to wait until after she dealt with Fluffy. After deactivating her lightsaber and sliding it back into its holster, Erinyes slipped an elastic off her wrist and pulled her scarlet mane into a messy ponytail. It’d be hell to untangle later, especially after being doused with fruit juice, but better that than having it in her face.

Mune, who had been approaching his opponent at an almost leisurely pace, stopped in his tracks when she put her lightsaber away. Erinyes saw his head cock to one side as he studied her, his gaze more calculating than appreciative, as though he were trying to decide whether she was luring him into a trap. Only when she re-drew her lightsaber did Mune sigh and shake his head, and Erinyes could practically hear him chiding himself for over-thinking the situation.

Weapon in hand, Erinyes stalked forward, her pace quickening with every step. As she entered combat range, she flourished her lightsaber upward and drove a two-handed cut toward Mune’s left shoulder—and once again, the Augur met the attack with another X-shaped block before ducking and sidestepping beneath Erinyes’ blade. The Adept reversed the path of her strike, aiming for the right side of Mune’s waist, only to see him flip his shoto into a reverse grip and stop the attack cold. Then, in one fluid motion, Mune lifted Erinyes’ arm and lightsaber out of the way and loosed a fierce stab at the Adept’s ribs.

Erinyes smirked as she acted on the Force’s warning and slipped aside Mune’s thrust. “Predictable.” Another step forward, and she was standing almost directly at Mune’s right side. With a double-tap of her lightsaber’s activation stud, Erinyes’ violet blade disappeared from where Mune had trapped it at his own hip and reappeared under his chin. If he hadn’t moved his shoto to swat the attack aside the second he sensed Erinyes’ intent, her blade would’ve skewered his throat.

The Augur pivoted away from his opponent with sudden, Force-amplified speed, throwing a back-handed strike to keep Erinyes at bay, and aquamarine crashed against incandescent violet. With Erinyes’ weapon occupied, Mune was free to reach out with his other hand and draw on the Force to blast the Adept backward—only to find himself hauled up by the scruff of his neck a second later, as an invisible hand grabbed him and dragged him along Erinyes’ flight path.

Sailing through the air once more, Erinyes chose that moment to unleash the energy of the Force in her body; not the same power the average Force-user drew upon, but a Marauder’s practiced battle-frenzy. She’d deliberately waited for a moment before hauling Mune along with her, to ensure he would still be in the air when she landed, and thus less capable of dodging her attacks. The assembled crowd barely scattered out of the way before Erinyes’ feet touched the ground. The Adept immediately launched herself forward, lightsaber raised, and struck where she knew Mune’s head was going to be.

To his credit, Mune did react fast enough to have his guard raised when Erinyes’ lightsaber came crashing down on him. He’d even seen the Force showing him how moving aside would negate the Tràkata strike he knew would bypass his defences like they hadn’t been there in the first place; he just couldn’t do it without his feet on the ground, and Erinyes’ lightsaber was scything through the air towards him faster than he was falling. By reflex, Mune’s ears folded back against his head as he saw the Adept’s blade flare to life above him, and he instinctively squeezed his eyes shut against the glare.

A moment later, Mune felt his feet touch permacrete, followed by an almost-imperceptible pressure as the cowl that had covered his ears like a tent fall over him… but instead of resting on the crown of his head, the fabric was draped over his shoulders, split into two pieces. His razor-sharp mind immediately informed him of what he didn’t smell: singed fur. Somehow, in the time it had taken for his hood to fall the height of his ears, Erinyes had sliced the garment in half without touching a single hair on the Shistavanen’s head.

Meanwhile, Erinyes smiled and flourished her lightsaber as she saw realisation dawn on Mune’s features. “Not bad, pup. It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed a fight this much. Let’s see how long you can keep it going.”

Mune’s ears perked, he turned his gaze on the Zeltron at his back. He had to appreciate her precision. He could hear the murmurs from the growing crowd, jostling each other for a better position to best view the scene of combat. He caught snippets of conversation and exchanges of credits as bets were placed. The Shistavanen could not help but grin in amusement. She was not incorrect, he was enjoying himself as much as she appeared to be. He eyed her for a moment before turning bodily to face her again. He had not an inkling of a doubt that her skills remained sharp. As to who could outlast who…

Mune gave his shoto a quick spin before he dropped into a crouch, lowering his center of gravity and settling the shorter weapon in a reverse grip. He scanned the environs through his peripheral vision, not for a moment removing his attention from the marauder.

“It’s pleasant to come across another in the brotherhood capable of having fun,” Erinyes commented.

The Shistavanen chuckled lightly, his eyes coloured with mirth. He shelved it. At once, they both moved to close the distance with speed enhanced by the Force. Blue and violet plasma rent the air in a brilliant cavalcade of crackling energy. A wicked slash aimed at the woman’s hip was aptly dodged while her stab to the male’s shoulder was turned away upon the defensively held shoto. Their feet shifted dirt and dust, their bodies twisted and pivoted around one another in a quick half-spin that brought lightsaber against lightsaber in a crackling snarl.

Mune dropped his shoto at that moment and reached out with the Force. Erinyes reached out with her free hand. Two vendor carts were pulled against gravity by either combatant and sent tumbling through the air at their respective targets. Ruby and azure eyes narrowed, impish grins set upon both their faces. They separated suddenly and leaped backwards only for the carts to crash and explode into so much debris upon the very spot they had stood only milliseconds before.

Feet slid upon duracrete. Splintered wood and miscellaneous bits of destroyed product tumbled about from the wreckage of what had been the livelihood of two rather irritated looking merchants. Neither Disciple nor Sith paid them any mind.

Mune rushed her. He brought his saber down in a two-handed strike. Erinyes brought her weapon up to block. Again their weapons clashed. Mune twisted, one hand releasing his grip on his saber and his shoto was called from the ground in one quick motion. Erinyes was forced to twist out of the way of the second weapon’s activation, having very nearly caught her by surprise. Mune appeared more surprised that she reacted quick enough to dodge the surprise tactic.

“Oh, you are a sneaky one! I like it!” Erinyes laughed. “You know I’ll win though, right?”

Their sabers remained tightly pressed, crackling and hissing so near both their faces. The flashing and crackling light danced in their eyes. Mune offered an impish smile, his ears canting mischievously. “Of course, what kind of seer would I be if I did not?”

The Zeltron blinked then could not help but laugh again, “Don’t tell them that, you’ll ruin their betting pool. So you really think it brought out my eyes?”

They jerked apart, pivoting so they faced each other straight on again in a ready stance. Mune barked a bit of a laugh, “Everything was right about the colour, but that fabric... It was definitely cheap knock off, let us be honest.”

There is a groan of disdain from the crowd of watchers, from whom they could only assume came from the merchant that had been attempting to sell the garment. Erinyes took a breath, she wrapped shadow fingers around another cart, subtly moving the fingers of her free hand to try and disguise her intent. Mune’s eyes were upon her, she saw, and he seemed content on waiting for her next move. Let him wait, she thought with an inward thrill of excitement. She brought the free hand forward and the cart was whipped up and sent sailing at her opponent. She rushed him in its wake. He’s not there! The realization stopped her in mid charge, the cart crashing loudly and sending wares spilling about to the cry of yet another upset merchant. She craned her neck and caught the flicker of a white-furred tail in her peripheral vision.

Mune pulled himself up onto a narrow awning. He had jumped to avoid the thrown cart intended as a distraction and dexterously pulled himself up by a few handholds to a safe height above her. What he assumed as safe, at the least. He used the moment wisely. He breathed slowly and evenly, focussed drawing on the Force and siphoning it into himself to restore his reserves. He already felt an ache from maintaining the speed to only barely keep up with the Marauder, and his breathing was heavier from the exertion.

Their eyes met and neither could help but grin again.

“So how do I win, I wonder?” the Zeltron spoke directly into Mune’s mind.

“You know as well as I that it is never quite that precise…” the Shistavanen responded in kind, touching the woman’s mind as she had touched his.

The woman got the impression of laughter colouring the received thought. She wondered about the other judges and if they were as amusing as the one she faced now. She drew Grace and in one fluid motion had whipped the weapon with it’s igniting violet blade towards the Arcanist. She was in motion within the blink of an eye, trying to move to within melee range while the Shistavanen was distracted.

Mune twisted and his balance was compromised. Dropping his shoto he let himself slip from the awning and caught the ledge. The thrown lightsaber passed where he had been. From his periphery, he saw the Zeltron nearly upon him. His feet found purchase and as the woman’s lightsaber slashed outwards, he launched himself out of its path and hit the ground in a roll. He was on his feet and igniting his lightsaber again before he twisted and caught the next attack upon it. He reached out and called his shoto back to his hand only to see it sent sailing long when the woman nudged it aside with the Force before it could reach him. She only offered him a bit of a shrug and a try for an innocent look in response to his arched brow and canted ear. He could not help a theatric rolling of his eyes.

“Come on pup, you have more than that left,” Erinyes chided.

It may have been as well he retained a free hand. Mune focussed, the Force responded as it always did. He thrust the Force against his opponent, calculating his attack to knock her leg out from under her. He was satisfied to hear the yelp of surprise. Her lightsaber slipped along his as she dropped to a knee. Mune hammered into her right shoulder with the same attack. She was forced to twist from the blow but lashed out as quickly with her own Force attack, throwing him a few feet and onto his back. The air rushed from his lungs upon his impact with the unyielding duracrete. He extended a hand and his shoto skittered across the ground and coming to rest against his waiting palm. He kicked up from his prone position and ignited the weapon in time to catch his opponent in a leaping slash.

Over the sound of their sabers, they could just make out the sound of the gamblers. Both fighters breathed heavily, the Shistavanen openly panting. Some of the woman’s hair fell loose from where she’d tied it back, glued to her forehead by a light sweat upon her brow. Mune was watching for her to deactivate her saber. When it came and the pressure of a saber against his shoto vanished for a split second, Mune dropped his weight onto his back foot and felt the reactivation of the blade a hair’s breadth from his left shoulder. He realized he was slowing down and had depended on his reflexes to save him that time.

They breathed heavily, eyeing one another. She was the better duelist, Mune thought warily. They were even boasting of equal fitness so it could very well come down to her skill with her lightsaber. He almost noted out loud that he’d rather not lose a limb but they were of like mind that their game remained for amusement. Mune used the moment to slow his panting breaths and draw the Force into himself. Once again he began to replenish his reserves, trying to garner more energy to keep on fighting.

“Last round?” Erinyes queried, her breathing just about as heavy as her opponent’s though she had notably paced herself a little better.

“You bet.”

“No no, they’re betting, we’re fighting,” the woman winked.

“You got it,” Mune laughed and focussed all his attention on his opponent, making ready and ignoring the dull ache at the back of his head. It was the ache that warned him that he was closing on his metaphorical wall.