The Godless Matron is home to many, resembling a micro-society for those who wish to live outside the typical rule of the galaxy. The Lucrehulk-class battleship's massive hangers have been converted into dwellings as a result. Chute Town is the most notable of these makeshift towns. Many shops and storefronts have been constructed to take advantage of the higher volume of foot traffic. In addition, many ships and crews arrive into Chute Town to sell their "well-earned" commodities, weapons, or artifacts. It is commonplace to find the best and the worst gear the galaxy has to offer — it’s only a matter of how big your pocketbook is. The streets are patrolled regularly by the crew of the Matron itself, leaving would-be miscreants to be more wary, lest they find themselves on the receiving end of a pirate's sense of justice.

It is built mostly out of spare durasteel panels from derelict ships, dismantled machinery, or any other source or material the pirates could scavenge. It spans the length of the massive portside hangar of the Matron, reaching from its heavily protected reactor — hidden behind triple-reinforced blast doors and a guard retinue — all the way to the hangar entrance where the many incoming ships unload their cargo. It is more than a mile long, over five hundred feet wide and up to three stories tall, covering most of the floor. Chute Town's streets are a miniature maze, weaving in between buildings on several levels. Verticality is key for the masses of shops and bars to operate without interfering with one another. The main street is nicknamed Murder Alley, mostly because all the weapon shops are prominently opened there.

Illumination banks are staggered along the walkways and buildings to provide enough light for the society to function. Still, the streets are left dim with a low hanging fog built up from the collective humidity of so many people in one space. For those calling it their home, there is no such thing as off hours. A large crowd bustles along at all hours, an exotic assortment of individuals from countless planets and the warring gangs that divvy up the territory within. It's the perfect place for those looking to disappear in the crowd.

The Regent of the Brotherhood patrolled his comrade, Rian Taldrya's, "home-base" of operations with intensity. The genetically altered Dathomirian rarely visited the Godless Matron, almost solely to either open or close the Brotherhood's premier black market shop the Shroud Syndicate Market. He disapproved of the Matron despite being a Scoundrel himself, solely because of the lack of honor its denizens usually showed. How someone as honorable as his fellow Scion of Taldryan allowed such a thing to exist was beyond him. Still, the Mandalorian had a job to do, and saw it through after every major conflict engulfed the Brotherhood. He maintained his own network of contacts and knowledge of Criminal Syndicates, if only for his position on The Council.

This visit was no different, save for the other major presence on the station. The newly minted Justicar was also on-board, doing his own examination of the facilities and Matron in general. The Son of Palpatine, while traditionally light hearted and known to many as a wise guy, had a tone to set regarding his ascension; that there was a new power controlling the Brotherhood's justice system, and that power would not let crimes against the Brotherhood go unpunished. While usually calm and collect, the Brotherhood's chief judicial officer had just witnessed a deal gone bad... a young scrapper, no older than his own boy Rohan, had been gunned down for attempting to swindle one shop's owner. His mother watched in horror as the shopkeep pulled a slugthrower from behind the counter without provocation, pulling its trigger and sending a slug through the chest of the young lad. Gunned down for bargaining. While such things were uncommon, they would not go unanswered.

The woman screamed, collapsing to her knees beside her boy. Rage boiled, the Palpatine's blood pumped faster, and his emotions took hold as he thought of his own family. Using telekinesis he drew both lightsabers from his belt to his hands, connecting them in one smooth motion as he brought the now double-bladed lightsaber back and activated its amethyst blades. The human only saw red.

"Let justice be served," he sneered as he brought the weapon around, attempting to cleave the head off of the shop owner in one clean sweep. The blade nearly connected, but was stopped by another. A black core lightsaber blade emanating a putrid green smoke, crackling with green ichor lightning, stopped it in its tracks less than an inch from the humanoid keeper's neck. As his vision returned, the perpetrator was clear; General Bes'uliik had stepped in, preventing the kill.

"Zxyl, step aside," the Elder declared as he separated their blades and took stronger footing. With the mother still wailing and balling beside the counter, the Mandalorian General shook his head.

"This is not the way. There is no honor in what you seek to accomplish here," the Regent declared, defying the the Justicar.

"Then you too will meet my blades, for I am judge and executioner!" Kamjin bellowed as he leaped forward to engage the Mandalorian.

Kamjin was blinded by his rage. Death was not uncommon to the Sith but the sight of the dead child and the thought of his own facing similar perils and the need to appear 'harsh on crime' had triggered him. What should have been a simple execution...and 'eye for an eye' had suddenly become complicated by the appearance of the Regent. He knew he was going to be lampooned for the comment he had made but he'd have to deal with that later.

Kamjin could sense the Force within the man but it was nothing compared to his power. Intentionally making a show of it, he began to twirl his lighsabers. The Regent's eyes were unseen behind his mask. Whether they were watching the blades or watching Kamjin he didn't know. Nor did he care. The people noticed.

Like a predator when the strike came it was sudden and unannounced. With a series of figure eight slashes he unleashed his power against the Mandalorian's eerie green blade. The sparks that flew into the various vendor stalls were unnatural. Like the smoke from a chemical fire that refused to burn normally.

To Kamjin's surprise Zxyl maintained his composure and his grip on his hilt. Before Kamjin had a chance to process the Mandalorian's skill he was ducking from blaster fire from the Regent's WESTAR-35. Kamjin cloak flowed behind him as he avoided the blaster fire. As he took cover behind a stall he noticed several smoking holes. Sithspit, he thought. This was going to get out of hand. "What do you care about this..." Kamjin searched for the word in Mando. et..., no that's not it. ge'hu... maybe that was it. The hell with it, he'd just use the Huttese word. "Sleemo," Kamjin finally spit out.

"Not everything can be settled with murder," Zxyl spat back, laying down more fire.

"Fine," Kamjin said, getting a sense of where Zxyl was moving towards. "Why don't you and I talk about this like Councilors?" Kamjin didn't wait for Zxyl to consider whether that was an option. Reaching out to the call of the Force Kamjin began to hurl whatever trinkets and bric-a-brac that was laying around at the Regent.

While they weren't strong enough to damage the Mandalorian's armor he instinctively raised his arms to protect himself. Kamjin leapt out from his cover, racing towards Zxyl before kicking him in the chest plate, sending him sprawling to the ground. Ignoring the ramifications, Kamjin went to spear the Mandalorian to the ground with his lightsaber. Zxyl's reflexes saved him when he activated his jetpack. It was like nails upon stone as he scrapped his way to freedom. Kamjin's blade impaling the ground where Zxyl had been moments before.

As Zxyl scrapped his way to freedom he let fly his Whistling Birds. Kamjin, recognized the sound immediately. "Oh frak," he said as he dove under the nearest table. The assorted junk exploded as the table began to splinter. Kamjin was already crawling his own way to freedom as the miniature missiles rained down upon him.

The rest of the battle was prolonged and succulent. Each of the Councillors delivered glancing blows to their opponent, just enough to hinder either one. Once Lap'lamiz had wormed his way free of the table, taking shrapnel in his side from the rain of whistling birds upon him, the former Emperor turned Justicar had managed to clip the unarmored portion of Bes'uliik's leg using the tip of his radiant purple lightsaber blade before diving out of the way of a retaliatory strike. Each huffed and hissed at the burning sensations they suffered, their movements turning from fast unyielding strikes to something more akin of old people waving canes and yelling at clouds. The two Elders tore through the market of the Godless Matron as if they were a feuding husband and wife, destroying shop after shop and stall after stall.

"Had enough yet?" the Regent exasperated, panting.

"No," came Kamjin's curt reply between his own muddled breathing.

It was more than several minutes later when the two met their finale. Zxyl's hand had slipped off of his silver, durite, and aurodium lightsaber hilt as the Justicar brought his double bladed weapon down upon him, knocking the light-weapon straight from his hand and causing him to stumble backwards to his behind. With a smirk the much more Elder statesman and father of many spun his radiant purple bladed weapon above his head, preparing for a final blow across the neck.

That blow would never come, as in one smooth motion a fibercord whip launched from the Mandalorian's vambrace and wrapped around the Palpatine's leg, with the General pulling his arm back with all his might to trip him up. As both fell to their backs, they each prepared a weapon and shot right back up to a seated position.

"WAIT!" screamed Kamjin, one hand wide open. Both paused.

"I'm too old for this shit, Zxyl. Can we just call it even?"

"Yes," the Regent huffed, relieved. Both men pushed themselves up to their feet with a little help from the other, turned to examine their carnage, and promptly decided they would not tell the Herald of what had happened here.

More by luck than skill, Kamjin managed to stay ahead of the rain of Whistling Birds. Rolling onto his back, he sent the table flying towards Zxyl who took it full in the chest. As Zxyl fought to free himself from the table, Kamjin scrambled to his feet. Reigniting his saber, he scanned the area for the shop keeper who was at the center of this whole quagmire.

"There you are!" Kamjin muttered, catching sight of the shop keeper trying to hide nearby.

"No," Zxyl cried out, finally pushing the table off of him. It was too late. The Elder Sith bounded between the walls of the various buildings with ease before bringing his saber piercing down through the shop keeper's chest. The mother of the murder boy glared with cold retribution seeing her son avenged. Others in the street held mixed expressions as they stared at the wide eyed deathmask of the man as Kamjin extracted his blade.

"It's over Zxyl. There's no need to continue this charade."

"It'll never be over while you decide this is the way Justice is to be handled within the Brotherhood."

Kamjin pointed his blade at the Councilor. "Justice is always best when it is swiftly administered," Kamjin said with a smirk. Zxyl launched himself forward with an enraged battle cry. He wasn't going to let this stand seeing a ruthless former Emperor now measure out murder as justice. Kamjin sighed, sensing the attack coming. The Elder sidestepped the rocketing Mandalorian and brought the pummel of his hilt crashing down into the back of Zxyl's head as he flew by.

As the Mandalorian crumpled to the ground, unconscious, Kamjin extinguished his blade. "We can discuss this back on Arx," he said, as he scooped up the Regent and carried him back to his ship.