Lava is mined as a precious natural resource on this volatile and volcanic world. The opposing gravitational forces of the twin gas giants closest to Mustafar tear apart the planet’s surface to reveal the mineral-rich lava flows underneath. Once serving as the capital world for the Confederacy of Independent Systems, remnants of their past influence still linger. Massive mining facilities—originally constructed by the Techno Union—are still maintained by the native Mustafarians, an egocentric people who would like nothing more than to squeeze minerals for the purposes of trade and commerce from their volcanic planet.

Other than in the pursuit of business interests, few arrive on Mustafar save for those needing to incinerate evidence in its vast expanses of magma. What little curiosity is given to the volcanic planet is thwarted by a natural scanning interference caused by intense geological activity. Pirates, smugglers, criminals and scum all value this world’s ability to dump bodies, tracked cargo shipments and other unwanted articles—the singular reason for the Black Sun’s interest in the Outer Rim world.

Droids, machines and conveyor belts create the workings of an efficient system to extract the minerals and have it prepared for refinement and transportation. Lacking a suitable surface, metal walkways are shielded against the heat to allow workers passage throughout the facilities. Even with the worst of the heat being shielded against, Mustafar’s temperature remains less than comfortable to most species lacking exoskeletons.

Beyond the blistering heat of the volcanic world, Mustafar served as the battlefield for the fabled final duel between Obi Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker.

It was hot. It was blazing hot.

Ryan carefully stalked the corridors of the building, not so much out of a desire for stealth but a desire to not be drawn into an ambush among the seemingly identical obsidian walls of the hallways. Occasionally a side chamber would be glimpsed where the azures and emeralds of readouts and controls would break the darkness or a window would allow a view onto the lava-wracked “vistas” of Mustafar. The strange shadows cast through these windows only added to Ryan’s increasing worry.

He knew he was being funneled into a trap by the wily Vizsla tactician he now sought. While Creon did not have an army under his command, he had terrain to use, both inside the structures of the lava planet and all throughout the burning surface. While Ryan occasionally reached out through the Force to find his adversary, he could only keep his racing mind under control for fleeting moments, catching glimpses of Creon through the Force but never quite solidifying his mind on any position.

As Ryan stepped out into another obsidian corridor, the mirrored walls and floors blended into a seamless, black box without beginning or end. Just as Ryan realized that the corridor’s lighting had been dimmed, the flash of a blaster bolt streaked out of the darkness. The bolt was avoided only narrowly by the Jedi’s quick reflexes as he threw himself to the ground and the sapphire blade of his lightsaber erupted into being. Scrambling to his feet several more blaster bolts seemed to assault him from the darkness at dizzying angles, some even from… the ceiling?

Ryan’s skill at Soresu barely enabled him to keep balance against the onslaught of blaster fire as he fell back deflecting the incoming bolts before finally rooting himself in a strong stance in his retreat. He tried to remember the nearest bend in the corridor where he could stop and gather his thoughts. Finding an L-shaped bend in the hallway Ryan quickly took cover and peered slightly around the corner, lightsaber at the ready. Only the silent blackness of the hall answered his inquiring eyes. Sweat poured down his back whether from the heat or from the tension as the Odanite attempted to regain his composure.

He tried to gather his thoughts. All the blaster bolts seemed to originate from similarly armed individuals, blaster pistols, all making the same report echoing down the hall…

Ryan felt stupid. While Creon created the illusion of overwhelming firepower, it was in fact just his skilled trick shooting and the advantage of the disorienting effect of ricocheted bolts and the dark and indistinguishable hallways which had put Ryan mentally on the back foot. Now, Ryan once again had to pursue and had been delayed in his pursuit by having to regroup. He had to think fast as he was sure without a doubt that if allowed to close with Creon the Jedi Knight would prove his better. But lacking the planning skill of Creon he was now in a very difficult position. What he could not win in maneuver he would have to win through grit and fortitude.

The Jedi steeled his courage and tore around the corner at speed. No blaster fire answered him but his lightsaber remained in a Soresu guard and his eyes cast left and right in a determined and wary gaze. While being outmaneuvered again was a likelihood, Ryan’s violence of action had often proven a substitute for tactical acumen. It remained to be seen if this would continue to hold true.