Anakin once visited Coruscant’s underbelly, as an escort for Supreme Chancellor Palpatine’s secret visit. Festering within the 2685th level of Coruscant, it is a feeding ground to the best and worst criminals—bureaucrats among them. Slaves and contraband are bought and sold on the hour, while others gamble with their lives or ill-gotten gains on the roll of a chance cube.

Others are content to seek entertainment, watching holographic projections of exotic dancers in various states of undress—the likes of which will no doubt be traded as slaves in exchange for credits or other services. Games of chance are often obscured under the sheer volume of patrons gathered around the game tables. Smaller round tables serve for social or business gatherings, with more discreet booths tucked into alcoves along the walls.

Having undergone unfinished renovations at some point, the ceiling has been raised to resemble that of a warehouse. Smoke gathers among the durasteel supports, making a buffer for the intense red and violet beams lighting the cesspit below. Zeltron perfumes are among the most common smells in the establishment, while the rolling of dice cubes make for the most recognizable sound above the music. Fights don’t often break out, and violence is often dissuaded at the sight of armoured bouncers several heads taller than most humanoids

Club Kasakar wasn’t exactly Appius’ kind of place to hang out, the bounty hunter reflected as he wove through the raucous crowds. He wouldn’t have willingly set foot in the cacophony if he hadn’t been promised a hefty sum of credits—but a man’s gotta eat, and slogging through Coruscant’s seedy underbelly was far from the most unpleasant thing Appius had done to earn his pay.

“The Wight Knight arrives!” Somehow, Erinyes made herself heard through the din of the crowd, and waved to the Mandalorian from a nearby table. “Or, wait, what do they call you now? Warrior? Priest? Ugh, all these new titles.” She took a swig from her half-empty bottle of tsiraki and waved for Appius to sit down.

“Mystic, technically.” The Mandalorian sat, keeping one eye on Erinyes and the other on as much of the crowd as he could. “I take it things are getting back to normal on Chyron?”

“As normal as they ever are, thanks in no small part to you.” Erinyes retrieved a bundle from inside her robes and tossed it on the table with a thump. “The rest of your fee for your services in the Caelus system. You’re welcome to count it, of course.”

Appius blinked and flipped the satchel’s cover open. His eyes widened when he saw the stack of credit ingots inside, and he hurriedly closed the satchel again. “You carried this much, in ingots, in a place like this?” he asked, as he stuffed his payment into a belt pouch.

“It’s not that bad. Of the few hundred people in here, maybe a tenth of them are stupid enough to continue trying to mug someone after they see a lightsaber, and those ones deserve whatever they get—as you rather ably demonstrated. You’ve got quite a talent for throwing lightning around.” Erinyes took another pull of her drink, studying the Mystic’s reaction over the side of the bottle.

Appius tensed slightly at the compliment. “Thanks. If there’s nothing else, I should get this back to my ship. The Clan will be wanting their cut of this.” He gestured toward the compartment where he’d stored his payment.

The Adept grinned. “That’s a shame. I’d hoped to see you in action firsthand instead of having to wait until the nightly news.”

“I, uh… don’t see anyone around here who looks like they need a beatdown. At least, nobody who came up in our contract database.”

“No? Last time I checked, the price on my head was still on offer, and high enough that one of your Clanmates came after me for it. Although I can see why Whiskers wouldn’t tell anyone that he couldn’t handle a bounty on a Zeltron con artist.” Erinyes took another slug from her bottle. “As for you, you’re not telling me you’d walk away from a fight with a Sith with a bounty on her head? That’s not very ‘Mandalorian Jedi’ of you.”

“I thought the purpose of Dün Möch was to break the enemy’s spirit, not goad them into a battle.” The Mystic forced a smile beneath his helmet. His devotion to Niman, the Moderation Form, had long since ingrained the belief in him that not all battles had to be fought with lightsabers, but he hadn’t expected the Zeltron to be subtle enough to work it into a seemingly-normal conversation.

Erinyes shrugged. “You already seem not to have any will to fight—or is that just because a lightsaber and Force lightning aren’t win buttons against me? Maybe I was wrong about you. ‘Maximum profit with minimal risk’ does seem like a very bounty hunter-ish philosophy.”

“Think whatever you want of me. I know who I am and what I believe in.”

“Then why are you still sitting here?” No answer came, and Erinyes raised her eyebrows. “Are you protecting your Clan’s pride by not being the second Vizslan who tried and failed to bring me in? Or are you just too afraid to turn your back on someone who might be a threat to you?”

“There are too many innocent bystanders here. I don’t want to draw anyone else into the fight.” Even through his helmet vocoder, Appius’s voice sounded as brittle to him as the excuse.

Erinyes snorted. “Then don’t. Unless you’re worried you won’t be able to help yourself.”

Appius felt his hand clench into a fist, but managed to stop himself before he slammed it into the surface of the table. “Fine.” The Mystic stood with enough force to send his chair skittering away, and he ignored the annoyed cry from the neighbouring table as he retrieved his lightsaber from his belt.

The patrons of Club Kasakar might not have been attuned to the Force, but they were all underworld residents, and one doesn’t survive the underworld long without a well-developed sense for trouble. The crowd closest to the Brotherhood table backed away instinctively as Erinyes rose, bottle of tsiraki still in hand, and met Appius several paces away from their seats. The Adept flicked her wrist to summon her lightsaber to hand and thumbed a selector switch over to its training-saber phase.

“Appius Wight, Clan Vizsla.” It seemed an appropriate thing to say, the Mystic thought, when defending the honour of his adoptive family. He shifted his stance so that his off-leg led, lightsaber held loosely at his side, not yet ignited.

“Ah yes, the Slacker Form.” Erinyes rolled her eyes, though not so much as to let her opponent out of her sight. “Seraine Ténama, Clan Taldryan.” A gasp ran through the nearest bystanders as the Erinyes’ violet-bladed lightsaber flared to life.

Appius tilted his head slightly to one side. “The physical aspects of lightsaber combat will only get you so far.”

“That’s the most Jedi thing you’ve said since you walked in here.” Erinyes took yet another slug from her bottle of tsiraki, then darted forward, closing the space between herself and her opponent in mere heartbeats.

When the Adept was a step away, Appius’ emerald-green lightsaber blade sprang from its hilt in response to the warning that rang through the Force. Appius drew the energies around him into his body with a deep breath, then shifted his body away from Erinyes’ downward cut with a speed that—combined with having drunk most of a bottle of tsiraki—seemed to cause the Mystic to blur before the Zeltron’s eyes. In the same moment, Appius almost casually threw a strike at his opponent as she passed. The attack was half a beat too late to hit Erinyes, but Appius smiled beneath his helmet as his lightsaber sliced through its intended target: the bottle of tsiraki. Erinyes sensed the threat coming as Appius’ strike landed, and released her grip on her beverage while she let her momentum carry her out of harm’s way. Appius likewise hopped backward as the molten-hot edges of the tsiraki bottle ignited the alcoholic fumes inside. Burning tsiraki spilled everywhere as the lower half of the bottle crashed into the cantina floor, leaving a theatrical wall of fire in the Force-users’ wake.

Erinyes skidded to a halt, blinking in confusion at her now-empty hand as if to ask where the remainder of her drink had gone, then turned her perplexed gaze on the flames leaping upwards from the cantina floor. “Huh.” Beyond, she saw Appius gesture toward her, then felt herself being lifted into the air by invisible hands wrapped around her neck. The cantina’s onlookers blurred into a mass of dark shapes at the edges of Erinyes’ vision as the lack of oxygen smothered her into unconsciousness, and provided a convenient frame for the sight of the fully-armoured Mandalorian striding confidently through the flames. The alcohol didn’t burn hot enough to ignite the floor beneath itself, let alone melt through the duraplast cocoon—though Appius wisely chose not to test that, passing fully through the flames to confront his opponent.

When he was face-to-face with his opponent, Appius raised his lightsaber in front of himself to ward off any wild strikes Erinyes might attempt. “You can still surrender.” The comment drew a few open chuckles and derisive snorts from the cantina patrons who were still watching the confrontation, but a slight turn of Appius’ head dissuaded any attempt at a surprise attack.

By this time, Erinyes couldn’t answer with much more than a gasp for breath—but now, she had her opponent right where she wanted him. The Adept summoned a surge of Force energy to shatter Appius’ invisible grip, and suddenly, even Club Kasakar’s dim lights seemed offensively bright as Erinyes’ vision cleared. Appius backpedaled by reflex, giving Erinyes time to reorient herself as she stood from where she’d landed on one knee.

“Do you really think you’re the first person to try that?” The Adept unleashed a predatory grin as she directed the Force through her body, wiping away the bruises that Appius’ grip had left on her neck and purging the alcohol from her system. She could already feel her heart racing with excitement at the prospect of a fight interesting enough that she needed to be sober for it.

Appius must have realised that his caution was giving the Adept time to recover, because he lunged forward with diagonal slash from his lightsaber. Thanks to a timely warning from the Force, however, even the leftover wooziness from alcohol and lack of oxygen couldn’t stop Erinyes from pirouetting away from the strike behind the Vizslan’s back. When Appius reversed the path of his strike to deliver a back-handed cut, Erinyes leapt over the emerald blade and twisted in mid-air to face Appius before smacking him across the cheek-plate with her lightsaber. Luckily for the Mystic, Erinyes’ use of her weapon’s training-saber phase confined the blow to being a slap in the face instead of separating his jaw from his skull.

The real damage, though, was psychological. “How does it feel to know that you’re only alive because of a Sith’s mercy?” By now, with the alcohol purged and a few deep breaths in her system, Erinyes’ mind was as sharp as her words—and the way Appius tensed at the accusation confirmed that the Adept’s words were cutting far deeper than her under-powered lightsaber.

“You only had the chance to attack because I chose not to kill you,” the Mystic snapped.

Erinyes smirked. “And look where that got you. Now you’re going to have to find a different way to solve your problem.” The Adept twirled her lightsaber in a lazy figure-eight as she gestured to the crowd with her free hand. The audience took the hint, and chants of “Fight! Fight! Fight!” quickly filled the air. Erinyes tapped into the Force, and the world seemed to slow to half-speed around her; even the burning tsiraki looked like a curtain leisurely rising over a stage as the flames consumed the last of their fuel and sputtered out.

The exact moment the last of the embers fizzled into non-existence, the Adept Marauder kicked off with her right foot like it was a starting blaster for a race. With speed Appius could barely comprehend she was on him, faster than the vornskr that represented her respective lightsaber fighting style.

A swift and unpredictable strike of Glamour sliced fast at the Sorcerer's skull. With the Force on his side and the warning it gave him, he barely managed to inch out of the way of the strike as the amethyst blade, now at full power, cut through his Mandalorian helmet like a hot knife through soft flesh just millimetres away from his eyes.

The Sorcerer slid to the side out of the way and readied himself for the inevitable flurry the Ferocity Form would bring upon him. He held his lightsaber firm in his hand in a low guard and, just as he expected, she attempted a strike at his midsection. His emerald blade clashed with purple and he was forced to disengage from Glamour to stop the attempt at his head presented by Grace. They clashed in a brilliant display of sparking purple and emerald green but it was starting to become clear to the bystanders of the club that Appius was at a disadvantage. He was pushed back and the speed he had to commit to in order to defend himself was much more than he had expected, Nonetheless, his haphazard defensive movements had managed to stave off his attacker for the moment, switching from standard to reverse grips in moments. He gritted his teeth and felt his heart thud in his ears like thundering drums.

After a stiff kick to his sternum from the Taldryan Proconsul, he suddenly found himself pressed against one of the many bars that Club Kasakar boasted about in the scum-filled lower levels of the cityplanet. With an overhead swing with both sabers and with the Dark Side of the Force fueling her muscles like oxygen to fire, she swung at the Sorcerer in front of her with tremendous velocity.

The Force worked in mysterious ways and it determined that this moment was not Appius' time to die. With the warning it gave him he called upon the Force to power his legs and like a speeding tauntaun he leapt to the side and rolled across the ground out of harm's way as the Zeltron's sabers sliced through the circuitry within the bar itself. The explosion of bright lights and ignited electrical sparks created distance between the Force User and the Sith as sudden darkness overcame the entire club. The lights were gone, the music stopped, and the only source of visibility was provided by the humming glow of the combatants' lightsabers alongside the horrid smell of burning electrics.

"Aww, now look what you made me do."

The Zeltron's comment sounded more like a whiny child rather than an Elder of the Brotherhood. But alas, internally she fretted about how she was going to get her next drink after they'd caused collateral damage.

"Me? You're the one that attacked the bar because you can't control yourself."

"Yeah, but if you were trained in an actual lightsaber form that wouldn't have happened."

She winked at him and Appius clenched his left fist, his right eye twitching, and exhaled a deep breath. Then, all of a sudden, he started chuckling to himself. He took off his broken helmet and nonchalantly threw it to the ground a few feet away.

"Oh? We get to see your face! Everyone, that is what a Mando looks like under those tin buckets." Erinyes cheered jovially as if it was some kind of victory to her. The murmurs and cheap laughs from the observing patrons only helped enforce the feeling.

"You're underestimating me. You know how dangerous that is." It was a statement rather a question from the young Sorcerer.

"Maybe? Maybe not. You haven't impressed me thus far. If you and Whiskers are the standard for Vizsla I should have given you less money," she spoke sweetly and calmly, not even making eye contact. Instead she seemed fixated on the purple glow of her lightsabers. She glanced over to the Sorcerer and her lips etched into a smirk as she observed the Mandalorian's eyes harden and his body tense. All he needed was one more little push.

"Then again, with everything surrounding your Clan and Plagueis at the moment I don't expect Vizsla to be around for much longer."

What Erinyes said stung harder than any lightsaber ever could within Appius. His pupils dilated and, acting purely on instinct, he drove his anger and fury to the tips of the fingers.

The Taldryan Proconsul would receive her response in the form of streaks of blue and white that darted towards her, piercing the darkness like a thunderstorm in the night. The scumhive of Coruscant kept their distance from the strobing lights between the two Force sensitives.

The Force warned her of the Sorcerer's actions prior to him doing it and she raised her main hand lightsaber in front of her body to defend herself. The deadly streaks of hot lightning collided with the blade and dissipated into them. She held firm for a few seconds before the last of the glowing sparks disappeared.

"Told you lightning wasn't a win button against me!" triumphantly declared Erinyes as she smirked from behind her saber. Appius reached out with the Force like an extension of himself and gripped onto one of the durasteel chairs that were kicked over at the start of their fight. He commanded it up into the air and flung it at the Marauder with as much momentum as he could muster.

Erinyes did not reach the rank of Elder for nothing after all. With the Force aiding her she leapt and twirled in the air out of the way of the large projectile flying towards her, landing on her feet with cat-like precision. But the moment she did she was forced to duck under a green instrument of death as it whirled over her head, cutting loose a few strands of her luscious red hair. The weapon returned to Appius' outstretched hand.

Suddenly, the emergency backup generator to the club powered up and the destruction that the two had caused so far was as easy to see as daylight itself. Out of the corner of her eye, The Zeltron couldn't help but take in the sight of a beautiful, purple skinned Twi'lek woman with a perfectly sculptured hourglass figure twiddling with her lekku amongst the crowd of bystanders.

Sensing her brief distraction, Appius fired up his jetpack, the thrusters roaring to life like an angry Zalorian rock-lion. The sudden booming sound returned the Elder Marauder to her senses but Appius was already moving towards her at great speed. Using his Jetpack for added thrust, he shoulder-barged into her as she toppled over to the ground and landed with a hard thud onto her back. Her grip on Grace had loosened just enough that it rolled out of her hand just a couple of feet away from her.

Appius seized his opportunity and launched himself into the air once more. He ascended twelve feet into the air and cut the power immediately, the Zeltron's eyes widening at the sight of the ever increasing size of a Mandalorian with a lightsaber descending upon her. She didn't need the Force to tell her she was in danger and she quickly rolled out of the way of Appius' gravity-enhanced vertical slash which penetrated straight through the durasteel floor.

With her eyes locked on to Grace, she rose to her feet and extended her left hand and the metallic hilt returned to her like a master calling for her pet. The two combatants glared at each other and Erinyes noticed now he was breathing harder and a small bead of sweat dropped down the side of his head.

"How's that for a slacker's form?" he said defiantly with just a hint of pride swelling up within him. Yet rather expectantly, the Zeltron shrugged at him once again.

"I give it a three, maybe a four out of ten."

Appius remained silent, trying to shake off his fatigue and stunned at her nonchalant attitude. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Okay, five but that's my final offer. Though I guess I can give it a six by slacker's standards."

"Niman is as legitimate a form of lightsaber combat as any other."

"Says the slacker to the saberist."

Appius could feel a twinge in his neck and a vein bulge at the top of his head. He was getting tired of her belittling him, his Clan, his clansmen, his beliefs and his fighting style. He would make her pay for it and take a great deal of satisfaction proving her wrong. One way or another.

"Then how about I show you what Niman is really capable of," challenged Appius as he twirled his emerald bladed lightsaber slowly in his hand in a circle in front of him.

"It's cute when they try. Alright, I accept. You'd better up your game, though, because I met a Pantoran dancing girl on the way in who's easily an eight, and her shift's over in another ten minutes."

The Marauder gripped her lightsabers on the balance point of the hilts and half twisted her body to the side, raising her main hand lightsaber above her head. She bent her knees like a wild animal ready to pounce at its prey.

In response, the Sorcerer held his own blade in the middle of the hilt, held diagonally away from him. Body slightly twisted to the side, he appeared utterly relaxed and calm. Inside, he was anything but.

Normally, Erinyes wouldn’t have needed to be told twice to attack—or even once, really—but Appius’ fully-armoured jetpack charge had hit a lot harder than a normal tackle, and the banter was a convenient opportunity for her to catch her breath and assess the damage. Every breath sent sharp, nauseating pain through her chest; a sign that bones were moving in directions they shouldn’t. Erinyes had been in enough battles to know that the longer she left the injury unattended, the worse it would get. Unfortunately, now that she’d provoked him into drawing on the Dark Side, Appius wasn’t likely to sit back and let the Adept heal herself… unless, of course, she didn’t give him the choice.

Erinyes lunged forward, her main-hand blade carving a glowing streak through the air above her head. The movement naturally drew Appius’ sight, and Erinyes took the moment to flip her off-hand saber into a reverse grip and throw a twisting, rising cut. The Force was with Appius, and by reflex, the Mystic angled his lightsaber to parry the low blow. Sparks flew as the violet and emerald blades crashed together. In the same moment, Erinyes whipped her main-hand lightsaber down to strike at Appius’ shoulder. Once again, Appius’ senses warned him of the impending danger, but the Mystic’s lightsaber didn’t move. Instead, he lifted his free arm and caught Erinyes’ forearm with his own, leaving the pair in an awkward half-clinch.

A flash of inspiration crossed Appius’ face then, and the space between the combatants lit up as sparks collected at the Mystic’s fingertips. At this range, with her lightsabers tied up, Erinyes didn’t stand a chance at deflecting the bolt. Luckily, the Adept’s finely-tuned sense for danger offered another option. Erinyes raked her main-hand lightsaber downward and struck Appius’ bracer. A fwoosh and a rush of heat ensued, and the Mystic’s attack fizzled as he was forced to turn his attention to not crashing headlong into the ceiling.

Meanwhile, the blades of Erinyes’ lightsabers flickered out, and the Adept stowed her main-hand weapon in its wrist sling as she drew the Force into her body. She gritted her teeth against the pain as she placed her hand on her upper chest and felt bones mending underneath. The reprieve probably wouldn’t last long enough for her to heal the injury completely, but she could at least make sure her ribs were only bruised instead of cracked, and hopefully avoid ending up with a punctured lung.

Sure enough, mere seconds passed before the Adept sensed another attack, and Erinyes was forced to leap backward as Appius tried to roast her with the backblast from his jetpack. In response, Erinyes twirled her off-hand lightsaber into a forward grip, then flicked a switch to activate its pistol phase and took aim. When she pressed the activation stud, the weapon spat an amethyst bolt into the middle of the exhaust cloud that billowed across the ceiling. Much to the crowd’s disappointment, there was no fireball, nor yelp of pain, nor even a flash and sparks that would’ve denoted Appius deflecting the shot back to its origin. Erinyes didn’t particularly care, though; every second Appius spent dodging her half-heartedly aimed attacks was a second she could spend tending her wounds.

A few moments later, Appius landed back on the floor and turned to face his opponent, smirking. “All that talk about being a saberist, and you’re using a blaster now?”

“After seeing how badly you fared playing at being a Jedi, I thought I’d give you the chance to try playing at being a Mandalorian instead.” The pain in Erinyes’ chest had diminished somewhat now, from sickening to merely annoying, and was dulled to a persistent ache instead of sharp spikes every time she took a breath.

“You’re still underestimating me.” Erinyes shrugged. The gesture still hurt, but less than she’d expected. “You haven’t given me any reason to change my view.” She thumbed her off-hand lightsaber back to its standard phase, half-expecting the Mystic to answer with another blast of lightning. The blast of Force energy that came instead was powerful enough to knock the wind out of Erinyes and send her sailing through the air. The Adept drew her knees up into a backward somersault, rotating in mid-flight, and landed in a crouch.

Sighing to herself, Erinyes undid the clasp that held her cloak in place and grasped the garment in her free hand. No matter how skilled she was with a lightsaber, she wasn’t going to win this battle if she couldn’t get close enough to put it to use. Drawing on the Force, Erinyes flung her arm outward and tossed her cloak at Appius, then tugged on the garment with invisible threads to make it billow open as it flew. Then, when the armorweave completely blocked the sightline between her and her opponent, the Adept sprang to her feet and charged forward.

“First a blaster, now cheap tricks. You’re getting desperate.” The emerald beam of Appius’ lightsaber sliced effortlessly through the armoured cloak, but as Erinyes wiggled her fingers to extend her telekinetic control, the maneuver only succeeded in doubling how many pieces of cloth wrapped around his head to obscure his vision. Some manner of muffled sound came from beneath the swathes of fabric as Appius expressed his surprise and annoyance.

Erinyes released her hold over her ruined cloak and slung her main-hand lightsaber into her grip, then channelled the Force into her body. Twin violet beams sprang to life as the Adept launched herself into the air, leaping clear over a table to bring a strike crashing down on Appius’ head. The Mystic barely managed to get his lightsaber into place when the Force warned him of the incoming blows, his face still half-covered with the remains of Erinyes’ cloak.

The Adept switched her main-hand lightsaber over to its training phase and drew on the Force again, and suddenly, Appius seemed to be moving in slow motion. Now, Erinyes decided, was the perfect time to bring out her other favourite unusual lightsaber technique. She double-tapped her main-hand lightsaber’s activation stud, deactivating the blade just long enough to bypass Appius’ guard before re-igniting it and backhanding him across the face. The Force seemed to warn Appius of the impending danger, and he began to backpedal away from the blow, but he simply couldn’t match the Elder Marauder’s raw speed.

Even the leftovers of the strength that had propelled Erinyes’ leap were enough to send Appius reeling under the power of the blow. By reflex, Appius raised his open hand to cover his face, and extended his saber arm horizontally to keep Erinyes as far away as possible. The Adept responded by swatting Appius’ lightsaber aside with her main-hand blade while she sliced downward with her other weapon, using its cutting power to cleave Appius’ jetpack away from his back. By this time, Appius had recovered enough from the smack in the face to draw on the Force himself, quickening his movements from slow-motion to a casual pace in Erinyes’ eyes.

Wisely, the Mystic angled his lightsaber to protect himself from Erinyes’ currently-deadly off-hand blade. Appius caught Erinyes’ next training-saber strike on his forearm, letting his armour soak up the impact and stinging from the low-powered beam, then dropped his hand down to grab Erinyes’ sleeve. Temporarily unable to dodge, the Adept resorted to catching Appius’ kick on her shin instead of the side of her knee. The blow was painful, but not crippling, and Erinyes answered by snapping her own leg out to slam her heel into the inside of Appius’ thigh.

The Mystic’s armour prevented Erinyes’ kick from doing much damage, but the blow warded off any further attempts at combat footsie and forced Appius back a step. By now, both combatants were gasping for breath, sweat pouring down their faces. The ache in Erinyes’ chest had spread to become a burning fatigue in her limbs, and she could see Appius swaying on his feet due to the repeated blows to his head. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before one of them made a fatal mistake, and Erinyes had to make sure to end the fight before she was the one who made it.

Shame. She’d been having so much fun, too.

Erinyes took a deep breath and forced it out to banish the pain from her body. She didn’t bother dealing with the fatigue; her ticket to winning this fight was to beat her opponent down quickly, not to outlast him. “Maybe you’re the one who should surrender,” she said, forcing a grin through her exhaustion.

Appius spat something back in a language she didn’t recognise and assumed the same ready stance he’d used throughout the fight, and Erinyes shrugged. “Suit yourself.” The Adept darted forward, and Appius brought his lightsaber up into the most effective guard he could. The Force guided his movements as took a step back and raised his lightsaber to intercept Erinyes’ strike, but Appius’ defences were rendered useless as the violet beam vanished and reappeared inside his guard. With a flick of her wrist, Erinyes seared lines through the tops of each of Appius’ thighs—not deep enough to cause permanent damage, but painful enough to end the fight. The Mystic strangled back a cry of pain as his legs buckled, and a strike from Erinyes’ training-phase saber to the back of his neck sent him sprawling to the floor, his lightsaber’s blade snuffed out as the weapon skittered out of his hand.

“If I were like most Sith, you’d be dead right now.” Erinyes deactivated her lightsabers and extended two fingers toward Appius’ weapon, then shot a glare at the would-be thief who’d been eyeing it as she used the Force to float it back to within the Mystic’s reach. “You’re lucky I’m not, but you know who are like most Sith? Plagueis—and when you’re fighting them, you’ll have a lot more on the line than your pride and a fistful of credits. The next time you try to talk someone down instead of running them through, it might end with them killing your Clanmates, all because you decided to be a good guy and squander your potential instead of seizing the power to protect them by any means necessary.”

Appius growled something incomprehensible, in too much pain to speak clearly, but Erinyes didn’t need to be a mind-reader to see the rage burning in his eyes when he looked up at her. “Hate me now if you like, but someday you’ll understand. In the meantime, thanks for the fight. I’ll make sure the damages get paid for so your Consul doesn’t have your hide.” With that, Erinyes winked at her opponent and sauntered away, leaving Appius to nurse his defeat.

Both combatants remained in their fighting stances and waited for the slightest movement for the other. Seraine Erinyes Ténama, naturally, was starting to get a little fed up with the Sorcerer doing absolutely nothing. It was typical, for a user of the slackers form. As a Sith Marauder, she lived and breathed lightsaber combat. It was her bread and butter, her breath and sweat and the very principles of it ran in her very soul like it was the blood that pumped through her body.

So a form that emphasized less focus on blade work wasn't just insulting to her, it was an insult to what she stood for and a damn slap in the face at that. The sting of which only fueled her anger and power in the Dark Side of the Force.

"Boo!" She suddenly snapped. Trying to unnerve the Sorcerer and gain a wider opening in his lackluster defense. However, this simple act had a more devastating effect. Appius stretched out with his left hand towards her and opened his palm, the gesture of which caused Erinyes to groan exasperatedly.

"This again? I expected better of you, so much for showing me what the slacker form can do."

Jumping to conclusions had proven to be her undoing in this endeavour, as it provided the few precious moments Appius needed, the split second the Sorcerer flicked his wrist, it felt like the twin suns of Tatooine exploded in front of her eyes as well as all the eyes of those in the nearby vicinity. She recoiled and gasped along with several other patrons as the bright lights assaulted her retinas like a wild cat scratching at them.

She was suddenly shocked to find herself flung towards her enemy by invisible tether like a powerful tornado had claimed its hold on her, right into the path of Appius' emerald blade. Thankfully, this wasn't the first time she'd seen Appius pulling this particular trick. She'd observed the way he fought back in the Caelus System and with her knowledge of lightsaber forms in hand she was well prepared for it. She inched her blades in front of her to defend herself from the flitting swing of the Mystics weapon as green and purple crashed together.

Erinyes' sense for danger is unlike most in the Brotherhood. Whilst most could sense danger coming and react accordingly to save their own lives, others had a very keen talent for it. Seraine Erinyes Ténama was one of the few individuals that possessed the ability to sense the danger coming and form an effective counter-attack like it was as easy as eating and drinking.

Using the momentum from Appius' pull on her, she forward rolled across the hard floor and rose to her feet. She roared and leapt into the air whilst spinning to strike at the Sorcerer's torso like a wild banshee before he had the time to react. Luckily for Appius, his own senses kicked in and he felt the sudden threat to his life before the Marauder could end it whilst he was still young.

He slid to the side as she struck at him, and the next moment he narrowly avoided a diagonal attack meant to split his body in twain. Keeping her momentum going, she bent the will of the Force to her command as it fueled her muscles and gave her unprecedented agility. She flipped around Appius from one side to the other like she had ingested some of the strong narcotics Club Kasakar was famous for.

She pummeled him with a series of overwhelming, quick and swift strikes from her two sabers, even going so far as to take advantage of her lightsabers on and off function to confuse and force the Sorcerer to overextend in his defences. Simply toying with him, her eyes were filled with the ferocious passion that the Dark Side bled. Appius had no choice but to keep his lightsaber close to his body, he panted and wheezed, trying his best to keep himself as reserved as possible as he defended himself from her onslaught once again.

He couldn't believe he had let himself fall into this situation again. He was played, hook line and sinker, plus, he was fatiguing fast and his life could end at any moment because of it if his movements slowed. Yet he wasn't frightened. No. Something else bubbled within him, whether it was his fear of failure, death or the fact he couldn't live up to the expectations of his clansmen, anger, rage and fury bubbled below his surface like a volcano waiting to erupt, and like any dormant volcano that awoke, the eruption would be monumental.

"ENOUGH!" His voice boomed throughout the club.

The lava-like sensation within him had done something to him mentally. In response, he commanded the Force to fuel his muscles as he struck as hard as he could with an upward vertical slash of his own, which was met with the resistance of Glamour. From this, he quickly shifted his feet and weight and quickly sliced diagonally at the Zeltron's shoulder. She blocked, but Appius threw a Force-empowered palm into her solar plexus, causing the Sith to be pushed back hard as she was repelled backwards into one of the few undamaged bars that had been untouched thus far in their fight. The impact was as such, that she tumbled over the bar and crashed into several bottles of alcohol behind her, which dropped and smashed around like little glass bombs.

Appius was really in it now. His heartbeat in his head, his shoulders hunched, his muscles ached and he wheezed for the air his body craved so much it felt like some invisible force was suffocating him. Regardless, he stumbled forward and dropped his lightsaber to the ground. He stretched out both hands and using the Force like an extension of himself he wrapped his extended limb around the steel shelves behind the bar and pulled them crashing down on the woman beneath them.

Then nothing.

Silence overcame everything and everyone as the club stood simply amazed at the brutality before them. Appius dropped to his hands and knees and choked for oxygen, coughing and sputtering. After a minute he summoned the strength to rise to his feet. He approached his lightsaber, slowly bent down to pick it up and gave the destruction he caused one last glance before slowly walking towards it. His legs felt like jelly and the people made sure to give him a wide berth as he did so, and he needed confirmation of her body if he was going to collect the bounty on her.

That was when he felt it.

She emerged from the wreckage like a phoenix from the ashes. She stood on top of the bar, both the hilts of Grace and Glamour in her hands as she patted herself down and straightened her hair.

"Guess what? It's your lucky day! I'm upgrading you to a seven."

The Sorcerer couldn't believe his eyes or ears. She looked relatively unharmed. Save for a few scratches and rips in her Elder Robes and her hair being a slight mess. A problem she was currently preoccupied with trying to fix. In Appius' eyes, amidst the chaos she appeared almost immortal.

"How… how did you?"

"The Force. What? Do you think you're the first person to try and bury me under a shelf of alcohol? Quick tip, next time, let me have some beautiful girls cuddled up next to me. Makes it that much better. It's the one detail everyone misses."

Appius had to do something, anything! He reached into his holster and withdrew Oppression, his WESTAR 35 and pointed it at the Marauder. She raised her right hand and he fired several consecutive shots as red laser fire collided into an invisible forcefield in front of her. She bit her lip and as her makeshift shield broke she dodged to the side just as Appius' blaster overheated. It dawned on the Sorcerer, that this was how she had escaped harm when he dropped the shelf on her.

Erinyes gripped Grace in her hand and activated the second emitter and fired her own set of blaster bolts at the Sorcerer. Thankfully for him, the distance was enough that the impact just thudded lightly against his armor.

"How does it feel, knowing if I was a little bit closer I could have ended your life?"

Appius' jetpack roared once more as he activated it. Not able to move quickly by himself, he relied on it to quickly close the distance between himself and Erinyes. She smirked as she sidestepped the flying Mandalorian and sliced at the thrusters of his jetpack. He spun out of control like a starfighter without a wing and planted himself into a nearby wall. He deactivated the remaining thruster and slumped unceremoniously down to the floor in agony and simply watched as the Taldryan Proconsul casually strolled towards him.

"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

She held out the humming blade of Glamour towards his eyes and Appius closed them, bracing himself for the inevitable. But to his surprise it never came. When he reopened his eyes Erinyes was there, simply smiling at him.

"I win." She declared triumphantly as she switched off her lightsabers.

"Aren't you going to kill me?"

She snorted at his response and placed her lightsabers back on her hips, glaring at some scumbags that were stupid enough to try and grab the credits Erinyes had given Appius that was still attached to his hip, they quickly retreated.

"Nah, I got what I wanted. And besides, I like you, you're way too much fun. And don't think I didn't see that anger back there, you'd make a pretty good Sith if only you'd seize the power I can sense in you. If you actually survive the fight against Plagueis I wouldn't mind a rematch."

Appius shuddered at her comment.

"Thanks… I guess."

"You're welcome. Just do me a favour… you know since I'm sparing you and all."

"And what's that?"

"Show them no mercy. They won't show you any. They'd soon kill you and all your clanmates and have your entrails for dinner. Your Mandalorian Jedi kark won't help you there."

The Zeltron let a small satisfied smirk curve onto her face.

"Oh, and the next time we fight, for the love of whatever god you Mandalorians believe in, learn a different lightsaber form. I'd actually like to have a good challenge in a blade fight."

Appius' head dropped slightly.

"I'll bear that in mind..."

"Good!" Erinyes replied jovially. "In that case, if you don't mind, I have a date with a Pantoran. Tell Whiskers I said hello."

She disappeared through the crowd, who separated to give the victor as much space as possible. Possibly out of fear, but mostly out of respect. After a few minutes life returned to the club and everyone went around their separate business. Appius returned to his feet and left the Club Kasakar behind him. With a lot to think about in both his mind and his soul.