From space, Malachor seems no more than a lifeless ball of ash. In the center of an open crater, however, lies the ancient Sith Temple. This colossal pyramid of black stone is the relic of a disastrous battle between the forces of darkness and light thousands of years ago.

Though the surface of Malachor has a breathable atmosphere, the air is dead still, and there is no sign of life. The caldera housing the Temple is a tableau of the terrible struggle that took place here so many millennia ago. Scattered through the causeways and crumbling boulders are the petrified figures of the foregone combatants, their hands raised eternally against whatever cataclysm took the life from their bodies. Some still grasp their Jedi weapons, though most likely the life is gone from them too. The pallid white light of the sun spreads unhindered through the crater, but it does little to illumine the intrinsic darkness of the stones.

The Sith Temple is not a place of the light side. It is said the very stones react to the touch of the dark side. The pyramid itself is seemingly inaccessible, though its blocked entrance is associated with an old saying: “Two must lift these stones, no more, no less.” Despite its undeniable age, the crater is littered with signs of a more recent calamity; ash and debris, columns toppled outwards from the Temple, broken arches. It is as though the millennial dust stirred, briefly, then returned to its repose under the sun.

The lack of wind near the temple had been bugging the small Odanite for some time now. Why she had been sent to this particular corner of the end of everything still didn't make any sense to her. But, here she was, standing before a Sith Temple that predated just about everything. The only good part about the environment here was that everything was nearly perfectly preserved. The Temple showed some signs that the storm beasts had wandered nearby a time or two, but it stood largely intact.

The writing around the entrance was in a language she couldn't read, but that wasn't anything new either. Most of these temples - Jedi and Sith alike - bore script in languages even the dustiest of old scholars might have trouble reading. Miho looked around, both enjoying and somewhat fearful of the profound silence. Something gave the silence a flavor of malice and it wasn't just the foreboding Temple.

A flash from the Force, there and gone again as Miho stepped to the side and a blaster bolt lanced through the air where she had stood. In the next moment both of her pistols were in her hands, aiming down in the direction the shot had come from.

“It seems I missed, let me try that again.”

The HK took aim and squeezed off another round, the Force tickled the back of Mihoshi's mind and she moved her head slightly. The red bolt of plasma shot past the side of her head, singing some of the raven mane and eliciting several upset sounds from the small droid on her back.

“Looks like we have company, Bee. A touch unfriendly company at that.” Another barely dodged blaster bolt. That was going to get old fast. “Hop down, Bee. If you get the chance, try to disable or distract that pile of junk.”

The small droid hopped down and whistled at her spitefully. “I'm sorry, you're right. It's rude to call it junk. Just do it, will you?”

Another whistle of disapproval sounded before the droid wandered off. Mihoshi hoped he would be able to disable the droid at least temporarily. The dark-haired woman that stood there watching the situation with what could only be considered an amused grin was going to be a serious problem. Idly, the small Odanite wondered what fresh hell had just walked up on her.

”Stupid to not be paying better attention,” she thought angrily at herself.

Rasilvenaira watched with equal parts amusement and disappointment as Veritas missed his mark three times. Sighing softly, she lifted one hand.

“Stand down, Veritas. Go back to the ship and run some diagnostics and recalibrate your aim. I will take care of this myself. More fun that way I suppose, just not as quick as I’d hoped.”

Veritas started to object but a stern look stopped his words before they were spoken. Finally, he just wheezed out a mechanical sigh and went back toward where their ship sat.

She made her way down the rocky path toward the temple, and her target. Halfway there, she spotted the little droid and flicked a light burst of lightning in its direction, not really meaning to hit it.

“Back to your mistress, little trouble maker.”

The little droid beeped and chittered angrily but quickly returned to its mistress.

Then Rasilvenaira drew her lightsaber, igniting the pale silver blade. Going against someone equally as armed as her assassin droid had been, she wasn’t taking chances. Her steps were calm and deliberate, a sign of someone comfortable in their situation and abilities. As she closed the distance between them, the smaller woman turned to focus her pistols on the Sith approaching her.

“Who are you?” Miho asked, not recognizing the other woman.

“Does it really matter? Someone sent you here and told me where and when to find you to make sure you never leave this place. Apparently you have worn out your welcome with that someone.”

Rasilvenaira’s voice was calm, just loud enough to be heard clearly, but it also held the icy edge of someone well accustomed to ending lives.

Dipping into the strong flow of the Dark Side that permeated the entire area around the ancient temple, Rasilvenaira focused the Force to enhance her speed as she lunged forward. Miho took aim and fired her pistols trying to stop her, but Rasilvenaira’s silver blade easily intercepted the slugs, causing them to vanish in a burst of molten sparks.

When she drew close enough, she let a cold grin cross her lips as the world around them went instantly pitch black. It was a darkness so deep that one could not even see their hand in front of their face. Rasilvenaira deactivated her saber and clipped it back to her belt. In its place she drew her wicked double bladed dagger, the Arashi-Kumori.