A crowd of spectators from all species had gathered at the Arx Colosseum. Sentients of all ages gathered around view screens and digital projectors; eager to witness the impending violence between two combatants.
Some viewers appeared puzzled by the appearance of only a sole combatant on the viewing devices. A blue skinned Chiss garbed in a set of fine Serrano robes of red, gray and black.
The Chiss moved with poise. A confidence some would consider arrogance. But he had the skills to back up the bravado and moved from bridge to bridge without a concern. His opponent would find him soon and would be dealt with then.
Anders had already bested his foe on several occasions. But besting Hector Von Ricmore in a more public venue would certainly aid him in his goal. He would show the Council, no, the entire galaxy, that he was deserving of the title of Grand Inquisitor.
He was the strongest. The most intelligent. The most ruthless. The most deserving of such a position. They would all witness his grandeur. They would know his justice.
The Grand Inquisitor had to be shrewd, to be capable of spotting trouble wherever it occurred. So it came as little surprise to Anders when his sharp eyes caught the vague and blurry outline of bended light.
Optical camouflage. How clever.
The Sith drew his lightsaber, igniting the black and red blade and holding it in front of him. Not a moment later his foe decloaked and opened fire with twin blaster pistols.
The blue skinned man lazily batted the bolts aside. Such weapons were practically no threat to someone of his skill. He began to leisurely stride forward, taking the time to enjoy the battle.
“Come now Hector, did you really think such parlor tricks would afford you an advantage in this fight? I thought you would have learned by now after losing to me time and time again. You have no hope, no chance of ever defeating me.” Anders drawled, worming his way into his opponent’s mind, creating doubt that he could take advantage of.
His foe would be lying if he said the words had no effect. There was a harsh truth to them. Hector had yet to best Anders in combat. But he had to try. The Force had guided him here for a reason. But it was up to the Kiffar to figure out why.
Stowing his blaster pistols, the Dark Jedi drew his own lightsaber and ignited the amethyst blade.
He was immediately pushed onto the defensive, forced to give ground as Anders crashed his saber against his again and again. The red and black blade lashed out with nimble strikes, picking away at the defense and searching for an opening. An opening that would no doubt appear if the fight continued in this manner.
Hector held up a hand, shoving his foe back several steps with unseen kinetic energy, using the Force. He began to chant in a low, guttural tongue. His Barab Ingot began to glow.
Anders didn’t give him time to complete the ritual. He lunged forward with an elegant thrust, a move Hector barely parried in time, the blade singeing the edge of his armor’s energy shielding. He continued to chant as he was pushed back, completing the ritual as he fought a desperate lightsaber battle.
”Tell me Anders, do you know what the Nightsisters, Sith, and Sorcerers of Tund have in common?” The Kiffar inquired.
”No. But I can’t imagine how such knowledge will help you now. You are outmatched in every way.” The Chiss verbally jousted.
Anders could tell his foe had another trick up his sleeve. He would not be so confident otherwise. He tensed his body and kept his saber at the ready, prepared to counter whatever his enemy had planned.
”They can all conjure fire.” Hector claimed.
His kyber crystal gleamed with a cerulean incandescent light. A stream of blue fire erupted from the crystal. The fiery energy rushed towards Anders who watched with wide red eyes, his body already moving to counter the sorcery.
