Once, it was the home to the witches of Dathomir, otherwise known as the Nightsisters. Tucked away in from the rest of the galaxy in an isolated cluster, the Nightsisters were able to draw energy from the planet itself, and pursued a type of ritualistic magic. They ruled over the population of Zabrak—Nightbrothers—and used them as a warrior caste to serve their purposes.

Then, the Clone Wars. The Nightsisters were pulled into the conflict due to the machinations of Mother Talzin and her rival Darth Sidious. This ultimately led to the eradication of the Dathomirians and their settlements. The desolation was claimed by the Confederacy of Independent Systems after the last Nightsister fell.

Now, the planet known as Dathomir is a haunted skeleton of its former greatness. A perpetual crimson glow coats the planet. The bleak world has become an amalgamation of ruined forest, decrepit swamp lands, and withered mountains worn to the sands of time.

In the desolate swamps, faint echoes haunt the graves of the long-dead witches, infusing the green fog that spreads above the damp ground. Dreadful whispers rumoured to be lingering incantations defend the world from intruders. Tall tales and rumors of zombies and ritual sacrifice alluding to grisly flashes of imagery.

The trees, large and misshapen, promise misery to those who touch their tortured bark and open themselves to the memories of the place. Eerie as the voices over the wind, the water beneath the fog appears red and bubbling, as if the land itself were pockmarked in cauldrons of blood to keep the incantations alive.

Creatures unaffected by the purge of the Nightsisters still remain. Snakes, reptiles and insects of varying lethality wander the wasteland. Reports have even said that rancor still roam freely.

This is Dathomir.

Kadrol knelt next to a storage case, a field of excavated soil lay unearthed in front of him. “Ok Tenz, let’s finish this up and then we can get out of here,” Kadrol said as he placed the skull of a Nightsister into the case. A Sith amulet associated with the skull was already secured in the case. The rest of the artifacts had been sent to labs off-world along with the rest of the dig team last week as project funding started to dry up.

As soon as Kadrol locked up the case, a green haze began to set in around the archaeological trenches. “I think this is the Force telling us to get out of here, Tenz,” Kadrol said, picking up the case and the tablet holding the excavation notes and drawings. As he began to walk, he spotted a faint outline of a figure on the horizon between the mist dipping across his vision. Kadrol could have sworn that the fog was beginning to affect his mind as the fog circled around him while he walked. It was as if the planet itself was now calling out to him as fleeting whispers. The shadowy figure continued on its trajectory towards the Force Disciple, his heart taking off as though it was jumping to hyperspace. The planet continued its assault on his mind. “Kill. Kill. Kill.” The voices whispered in chorus. “Stay here with the artifacts, Tenz,” Kadrol instructed. “I’m going to go deal with this.” The young man set down the case and pulled his lightsabers from the belt around his waist.

As Kadrol headed out to meet his adversary, he ignited his lightsabers, readying himself to kill. Suddenly the figure emerged from the red fog that permanently hovered above the surface. “Greetings, Kadrol. My name is Kah’ri Marru, and I’ve been tasked to ensure your safe return to the Caperion system,” The Firrerreo informed, “Or so I’ve been told at least. Now get.” Kah’ri ordered, gesturing for the Pantoran to come with him.

“My clan wishes me dead!” Kadrol shouted. The Pantoran charged recklessly toward Kah’ri, who blocked the attack with two sabers of his own. Both Force users pushed against the other’s blades like a rainbow of colors at a confluence. Kah’ri broke the engagement with a spin and the combatants circled each other during the lull in combat. The lightsabers hummed as the pair circled, waiting for the other to make the next move.

Kadrol’s heart was pounding as he faced his adversary. He had never met a Firrerreo before, but his gut told him the species was constantly a hair’s breadth away from lashing out, though perhaps that was just Kah’ri. As the two continued to circle in wait, the Pantoran tried studying the man’s face for any indication of the truth of his statements. Perhaps sensing the Savant’s distraction, the first strike came from Kah’ri, the orange lightsaber swung in a wide berth aimed at the Pantoran’s midsection. The short golden blade of Kadrol’s shoto sprang up to block it, the blades clashing together in a shower of sparks. The Pantoran spun away from the attack, his purple lightsaber whistling through the air and grazing the Firrerreo’s right shoulder.

“We have no quarrel with you, Hauen. It’s been two years. If the empire wanted you dead, you already would be.” Kah’ri said, attempting to reason.

“Then prove it.” The savant dared as he began a more calculated attack on his opponent. The battle was on, the sound of clashing lightsabers echoing through the swamp. The violet and gold blades flashed again and again, only for each strike to be deflected with ease.

KRZZKKK

KRZZKKK

The four blades danced in a show of color that contrasted the diseased-appearing swamp. Kah’ri was holding back to test the strength of his opponent. The exchange of blows acted as a conversation - one that the Mystic was well versed in. The young Pantoran left very few openings in his attacks but held back his aggression. His attacks were focused and defensive, aiming to turn Kah’ri’s assault against himself.

KRzzkkk

KRzzkKK

’His guard is solid,’ he thought.

Seeing little chance of breaking the defense, the Firrerreo traded more blows with his foe, intentionally switching to a defensive stance. Kadrol felt the shift in the Mystic, but played along, advancing toward the stranger with every swing. Kah’ri was in control of the movement now; Where he stepped back, Kadrol stepped forward. The two waded through the mud and green water, lightsabers illuminating the walls around them as they clashed.

KRZZKKK

KRZZKKK

The Pantoran’s blades bounced in quick, persistent flurries as the two progressed through a naturally formed hallway. His attacks were swift and decisive, aiming for even the slightest openings that Kah’ri offered. ‘His attacks are good but lack direction.’ Kah’ri made a mental note of this. Kah’ri blocked yet another strike, this time catching the Savant’s blade in a lock. The pair pushed at each other with equal strength until Kadrol thrust his offhand forward, using the Force to push the Mystic back.

Kah’ri, who did not sense the attack in time, was thrown back several meters, crashing onto the wall and dropping his lightsabers into the mud. “Okay, a bit of direction,” he coughed to himself. Marru looked back up at his opponent who was now charging at him. Almost on instinct, he reached over his head, grabbing a root that protruded out of the wall, and launched himself vertically. Kadrol slashed his lightsabers at the Firrerreo, barely missing his collar. Kah’ri floated upward, reaching back towards the ground as he pulled his mud-covered lightsabers back into his grasp. He landed on the edge of the small cliff, his blades still powered off.

“Reiden said you’d be hard to convince. He didn’t say you’d attack on sight.” He complained to the Savant below.

“Did he ever say to mind your own business?” Kadrol responded acerbically.

“He does.” Kah’ri pinched his chin. “Quite often, actually. I rarely listen, but that’s another story.” He replied with a smirk now on his face.

“Look. I’m not here to fight you. I’ve already said it once: If the Empire wanted you dead, it would have happened a long time ago. Can you honestly tell me you think -”

A purple blade flew by Kah’ri’s head before returning to its owner.

“I don’t CARE what you say! My clan wants me dead and there’s nothing you can say to convince me otherwise!” The Pantoran shouted.

His words echoed through the swamp and Kah’ri noticed a small flock of gibbit birds flying away from a field of spiked roots in the distance.

“Maybe not.” He replied still eyeing the horizon, “But maybe keep your voice down anyway? I’d like to not fight some Nydack just because you have a death wish.”

Kadrol lashed out and pressed forward with a renewed assault, running forward and using the Force to propel him up onto the top of the small cliff. “I am free to do as I wish!” Kadrol rebuked the other Force user. The Pantoran's lightsabers were a blur as they slashed down toward Kah'ri, but the Firrerreo quickly ignited his own sabers and brought them up to defend himself. The two Force users engaged in a fierce exchange, their blades colliding and sending sparks flying in every direction. Kadrol was determined to defeat Kah'ri for good and flee from Dathomir unharmed and without being tracked, but the Firrerreo was a skilled fighter and was able to hold his own against the Pantoran's attacks. The two continued to battle, their movements becoming more fluid and graceful as they adapted to each other's styles.

As the battle raged on, Kadrol began to feel a sense of fatigue setting in. He knew he couldn't keep up this level of intensity for much longer, but he refused to back down. He dug deep within himself, drawing on the Force to give him strength and stamina. The energy flowed through him, and he felt a surge of power that he had never experienced before. With renewed vigor, Kadrol pressed forward once again, his lightsabers flashing in the dim light of the swamp. Kah'ri was caught off guard by the sudden change in his opponent's demeanor, and he stumbled backward as Kadrol's blades cut through the air toward him.

The Firrerreo turned his misstep into a tactical flip back off the ledge to the swamp edge below where he was ready for Kadrol’s powerful strike as he leapt down to meet him. Kadrol's attacks were wild and uncontrolled, fueled by the flicker of the dark side he had suppressed for so long. Kah'ri parried them all, studying his opponent's movements, waiting for an opening. He knew that he couldn't keep this up forever; Kadrol was starting to wear him down with his relentless attacks. He had to find a way to end this quickly.

As the two continued to fight, Kah'ri noticed that Kadrol too was starting to tire. He was breathing heavily and his movements were becoming sluggish. This was his chance. Kah'ri launched a flurry of attacks, each one more precise than the last. Kadrol tried to defend himself, but he was too slow. Kah'ri's lightsaber found its mark, narrowly slicing through the armor on Kadrol's shoulder and leaving a wound.

Kadrol cried out in pain and stumbled back, clutching his wounded shoulder. Kah'ri could see the confusion and fear in his eyes, and he knew that he had to act quickly. He reached out with the Force, trying to connect with Kadrol's mind. At first, he was met with resistance, but he persisted, pushing deeper into Kadrol's thoughts. As he delved deeper, Kah'ri began to sense the pain and fear that Kadrol had endured. He saw the conflict in his mind, the betrayal of his master, and the fear that had driven him away from everyone he knew. But he also saw the glimmer of hope; the part of Kadrol that still wanted to return to the clan.

Kah’ri took a step back from his opponent and shut off his lightsabers. After re-holstering them, he reached up to his ear and pressed a button on his earpiece.

“Kadrol…” he looked at the exhausted Pantoran. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Resentment shot from Kadrol eyes as they locked onto Kah’ri’s.

“How could you know what I’ve been through?” he said groggily. He grabbed his knee to try to stand but stopped halfway. He stared at his reflection in the murky swamp water.

“No one knows what I’ve done or how I felt… they just…” he sighed. The hurt began to well up in him, but he refused to show it in front of his adversary.

The scientist buried his feelings and stood up indignantly to the memory of his past. He looked back at Kah’ri ready to go again but was met with a defenseless Firrerreo. Kah’ri’s eyes shimmered as tears formed in them. Kadrol stopped, befuddled by the sight.

Kah’ri wiped away a tear and held it in front himself, equally confused by the rising emotions.

“Sorry, I -… I don’t really know what this is. I just… I can tell you’re in a lot of pain.” He said, looking back up to the Pantoran. His eyes welled up again.

“…why?” Kadrol asked hesitantly, adjusting his grip on his lightsabers.

“Why can I tell?” Kah’ri asked, puzzled.

“No,” He said dismissively, “Why are you worked up about something that has nothing to do with you?”

Kah’ri paused and thought for a moment. “I guess… because I can relate with you.”

A thin awkwardness cut through the planet’s eerie atmosphere.

“Look I’m not going to say I know what you’ve been through. I don’t. But I can sense something… a light in you that’s been stifled. Not allowed out for one reason or another - likely, for survival. I get that.” Kah’ri allowed his thoughts to return to his induction to Scholae Palatinae. “I’ve only just found out about the Force two years ago and, except during training with my master, I’ve never felt comfortable exposing myself like that - not around Sith.” Kah’ri admitted. “Actually… I’m amazed I feel comfortable enough around you for this - A kid I met for a few seconds before immediately getting into a fight.”

Kadrol stared at the Firrerreo for a moment. “Who is your Master?” He asked, listening for manipulation.

Kah’ri smiled at the question.

“Reiden Karr.” he said proudly.

The Pantoran’s eyes widened. “Reiden...” he muttered. His mind flooded with thoughts of his old battleteam.

“The man is the only reason I’ve stayed as long as I have.” Kah’ri admitted. “There was a time I was going to leave. I was packing my bags and he walked in and told me I didn’t have to stay if I didn’t want to, but that I’d always have a place with the clan.”

Kadrol’s eyes widened again as the same words rang in his head from the last exchange he had with Reiden.

“Speaking of…” Kah’ri snapped his fingers and the BD unit on his back climbed onto the ground. He beeped naggingly at Kah’ri.

“Yes, I know, bud. Sorry about tha- look I’ll fix you up later. Just play the message for him.” Kah’ri instructed.

BD-12 turned his head up in refusal, beeping once more at the Mystic.

Kah’ri sighed, “…please?” He said reluctantly.

The droid nodded contently and climbed into a small rock, his holoprojector turning on. A man in armored robes appeared in front of Kadrol, his familiar look unmistakable underneath the decorated attire.

[“Kadrol. Two years ago, you left Clan Scholae Palatinae believing its leaders to be after your head for the death of Elincia, your master and the Clan’s former Consul. While I have made attempts to contact you, none have had a reply. I would prefer to deliver this message to you in person, however my duties as Quaestor of House Acclivis Draco have prevented me from coming. I’m sending my former student, Kah’ri Marru, to extend an offer to rejoin your brothers-in-arms.”]

The image flickered to Reiden leaning forward in a seat, hands clasped together.

[“… on the day you left, I remember telling you that you’d always have a place with us. This has never changed. Thoughts of you have been coming to me lately. I get the feeling you may be in trouble or on your way to it. I worry for you. Come back to the Clan, Kadrol. We need you, bud.”]

Reiden smiled and the holorecording faded away, the silence between them interrupted only by the call of a distant animal.

“…Fine...” Kadrol sighed, looking up at Kah’ri. “I’ll go with you.”