Below the offices and living quarters of the Headmaster and his Praetor lies the Hall of Secrets—a room dedicated to the members of the Dark Council, and practically unknown by the rest of the Brotherhood. The spacious room is highly secured, with a curving stone ceiling and thick, stone walls. Any noise from the rest of the Academy is completely muted, the silence of this place like a tomb. You were summoned here, the note still clenched in your hand, but so far you haven't seen a soul.

There are a nine cubicles—one for each Councilor—made from transparent crystal, which divides the room evenly into sections. Glancing into one, you see that it contains a small console. You walk towards it and tap in a simple command. Immediately the crystal walls grow opaque, obscuring the interior from view and sealing you within. It seems obvious that this is a secure study for the Council, where its members come to access artifacts, holocrons, or other data, without the prying eyes of the Academy watching.

You reverse the command and step back into the Hall. Glancing around, you search for the person who summoned you. Most of the cubicles are currently transparent, but the furthest one is dark—currently in use. You step towards it just as the walls flicker back to transparency revealing a single figure with weapon in hand…

Kordath inhaled with a low whistling sound, his fluted nose relishing the smells of dry scrolls and ancient knowledge as he walked through the darkened archives of the Academy. It was late, the best time in the Ryn’s opinion to be wandering the halls that contained so much information. No Journeymen under foot, desperately trying to find an item their master sent them to obtain or chattering to one another behind the shelves. Normally the Krath would relish an opportunity to pick over a section of the archive that he’d never looked at while no one else was about, but tonight he had a different goal.

At the end of the expansive library stood a door with the type of markings that made one’s skin crawl, warning those foolish enough to be curious to stay away. Another deep breath was taken by the Priest to steel himself as he made his way down the aisle leading to the door. The Ryn enjoyed researching things that he’d never encountered before, though it could be said he lacked direction in this venture. But if ever the Krath were to be captured by sadistic and bored pirates and forced to spout random facts, well, he was well prepared. After all, how many people took the time to learn just how many mammary glands a female Taalz actually had?

Putting such thoughts out of his mind, Kordath found himself before the portal. Closing his eyes and reaching over to the keypad recessed against the wall, he punched in a series of numbers and symbols. A smile crossed the Ryn’s mustachioed face as the door slid open with barely a whisper. The code had been a reward for clerical duties he’d been attending for the Master at Arms, who recognized the Krath’s hunger for knowledge, mundane or otherwise. Although, it could be said the Councilor merely wanted the Priest out from underfoot for a time.

With a few tentative steps, the Ryn entered an area of the Academy he’d never been able to access before. The Priest winced as he noticed the slight echo of his own footsteps in the spacious chamber, and did what he could to lighten his step. Thus he was surprised upon approaching the cubicles lining the walls to see one whose exterior was opaqued, suggesting it was in use already. Whomever was within hadn’t closed it entirely though, as sounds drifted out that brought on a shudder of disgust from the Arconan. It sounded like….squeals? And grunts.

This, of course, worried the Priest, as most of the people with access to the chamber were Council members and those granted entry by them. So either another random Jedi was in that cubicle, one who’d done some task and been rewarded access to the Hall of Secrets or…

Erring on the side of caution, the Ryn swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke.

‘...My Lord?”

A sudden cessation of noise occurred as the person within realized they were no longer alone. The door of the small enclosure slowly opened by way of a pale and slightly pudgy hand. Kordath licked his lips as he waited, anticipating the need to bow before which ever Councillor this was and beg for his life if need be. Instead, he was greeted by a familiar face, a fellow Arconan who looked as genuinely surprised as he himself. With brown hair going to gray, and a paunch that stressed the old Imperial flight suit he insisted on wearing most times, Andrelious was easy enough to spot. The Ryn kicked himself mentally for not checking over the room with the Force before entering; he disliked running into Sith in dark corners and empty rooms.

“Kordath? What in...how did you get in here?” asked the Warlord, drawing himself up to his full height and attempting to look as if he belonged in the chamber.

The Ryn shook his head to dislodge the sarcastic comments that he wanted to pepper the Human with. “I was given a, uhmm, code, by Lord Aabsdu so as to use the special archives here. How did...huh. Saskia got you in here, didn’t she?” Despite his uncomfortable proximity to the Sith, the Priest couldn’t help but grin sardonically at the Human.

Andrelious, for his part, was already feeling the usual annoyance he experienced when dealing with the fur-covered Krath. The deduction that his talented slicer of a daughter had gained him entry into the Hall was probably a blind, but educated guess. Still, it irked the Warlord slightly that the younger Arconan had managed it so quickly. He noted the Ryn was leaning slightly with his head craned, trying to peer past the Sith and into the cubicle he’d been using.

“....you know, I spent a lot of time on Nar Shaddaa, Andre, that sounded an awful like Gamorrean to me…”

“What have I told you about using that name, Ryn?” growled the Human, resting a hand on the belt of his suit, near the lightsaber that hung from it.

“That you liked it about as much as you did Chubs, I think,” replied the Ryn, eyes narrowing. “Those weren’t the kind of noises I heard when they were fighting, ya know? And were those Hutt grunts I heard? I’m not real up on my Huttese these...days…” Kordath paused, catching the growing flush of the Human’s face and recalling that to be a sign of anger in the smoothskins. “You know what, I’m just gonna go, umm, over to that cubicle on the other side,” he said, gesturing at the furthest enclosure from the Sith. “And do what I came to do, heh.”

The Sith glared as the Krath backed away from him, his mind churning through his options and what he knew of the moment. Kordath had guessed he wasn’t here legitimately but the Ryn wasn’t likely to run and tell on him: it wasn’t in the lying little womprat’s nature. On the other hand...this late, the only activity in the Academy were the droids doing the cleaning. No one around to see what could happen…

“Kordath, you were given a code, you said? Just for this evening?”

Bleu stopped in mid turn, glancing back at the Warlord with suspicion. “Umm...yes. No. Well it’s good for at least one go, it didn’t really have a set time or day. Just for whenever I had some free time, eh?”

No witnesses, nothing to say he was meant to be here this evening. Saskia could likely wipe his code from the logs….no body, no witnesses, no proof.

With a grin, the Sith watched the Priest turn back to the enclosure he was headed towards. The two Arconans had been allies and rivals, depending on the situation, but the Ryn’s nature leaned far too much towards the Light for Andrelious’ taste. And while the Sith would never admit that the little Krath had a bright future….well, no proof was no proof. Accidents happened at the Academy: perhaps the Ryn opened a tome he wasn’t meant to and Bad Things happened.

Oh no, my Lords, I never saw anything. I just heard a scream so I came running, and all I found was a burnt up tome and a funny smell, but no Ryn, no my Lords.

The Sith’s grin turned more vicious as he unclipped his saber hilt and stalked towards the Priest.

Kordath was fiddling with the outside of the cubicle, trying to determine how to set it properly so as to not hear whatever it was Andrelious was ‘studying’ when the hair on his neck began to itch. Usually that meant the Force was trying to tell him something, and he had a feeling he already knew what it was. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, the Ryn felt his nervous system light up with extra energy. He directed it down through his arms to his hands, and turned to see the Human approaching, weapon drawn but not yet engaged.

“Andrelious….”

“I thought it was ‘Chubs’, Ryn,” growled the Human, his blade snapping to life with an emerald flash. As the blade raised, the Priest raised his hands up in front of himself defensively.

The Warlord let out a cry of surprise and annoyance as the world flashed white for a moment, the Ryn having released a burst of energy from his upraised hands. Waving his blade to ward off an unseen attack as he tried to blink his eyes to clear his vision, the Sith heard the patter of running feet.

Bleu was panting after his short sprint to the Hall’s entryway, making a mental note to start an exercise regimen if he made it out of this alive. Smacking the door controls,he glanced over his shoulder: Andrelious was shaking his head and turning his way already, causing Kordath to bounce from one foot to the other in anxiety.

“Come on, come on, come on, you stupid bloody door, open,” he grumbled, jabbing the button to open it once more. A tone played from the panel before a feminine computer voice began speaking.

“I see you have spent only...Five Minutes...within the Hall of Secrets. Do you wish to logout already? Please note that your temporary pass code will no longer function afterwards. Please confirm.”

“What? No! Let me out!”

“I am sorry, I did not understand your response. Did you wish to logout now?”

Kordath looked back, seeing that the Sith was now coming his way with murder on his face.

“Yes! Logout! Open the bloody door you blasted machine woman!”

“Logging out has been confirmed, please recite the passcode for verification.”

“You have got to be karking with me,” muttered the Priest, staring at the door in horror. Mind racing on the verge of panic, he tried to recall the short combination of numbers that had been given to him. A sudden pressure on his tail, as if gripped by some unseen force, distracted him from this as he was pulled backwards and onto the cold, hard ground. Kordath let out a gasp as the breath was knocked from him, watching his feet roll up and over his head, before coming to a stop on the smooth stone floor.

“Oooooow,” he managed, blinking a few times as Andrelious filled his field of vision.

“That tail of yours. Perhaps it is useful after all,” Andrelious taunted.

The Warlord easily closed the fairly short distance between himself and Kordathh down, finding himself standing over the sprawling Ryn.

“Always trying to flee from a fight. We used to shoot your kind for fun back in the Navy,” the Sith continued.

“Did you bore them to death with tales of the old days first, too?” the Priest shot back.

Andrelious chuckled. “No. We’d tell them how they could have joined us in laying waste to the home planets of all kinds of foul creatures. The idea of killing some furry little bastard certainly kept me on task,” he said, staring at his opponent with a glint in his eye.

“So how did you end up here? Didn’t you end up having to run?” Kordath hissed, remembering something he’d once heard about the ex-Rollmaster.

The comment hit Andrelious far harder than Kordath could have managed with any weapon. The Krath didn’t need to see his rival’s reddening eyes to know he’d struck a nerve.

“You want to watch what you say, you grubby little ratboy!” the Warlord snapped, raising his lightsaber.

NOW! Kordath thought. With what agility he had, he pulled a knife from his sash and, trusting the Force to guide him, rolled away from the swinging blade and embedded the knife deep into Andrelious’ right boot. The move caught the former Imperial by surprise; he had been expecting far less from the Ryn. The knife was pushed in with enough force that it trapped the Sith’s foot on the ground, and had missed removing his toes by a matter of centimetres.

The agony from the entry of the durasteel blade left Andrelious struggling to stand a little, but he was quick to pull the knife out and place a healing hand over the wound. The Force began to knit the severed arteries and veins together, but Mimosa-Inahj knew he lacked the finesse to avoid leaving a scar behind.

Kordath made the most of the distraction and slipped away, quickly concealing himself from the Warlord’s vision. He stood perfectly still, watching as his opponent finished healing the wound and tossed the bloodied knife away.

“A good move, Ryn. Perhaps there’s hope for you after all. Now, if you’d kindly let us get this over with?” Andrelious called out, craning his neck around in a vain attempt to spot the alien. Kordath continued to observe the Sith, edging gradually towards the door whenever his opponent was looking the other way.

“Very well. If you want to play it that way..” the Warlord added, moving towards the door’s control panel. He studied it briefly, before smashing his lightsaber straight into the buttons. A small explosion confirmed that Andrelious had completely destroyed the locking mechanism. Kordath was trapped in the room with a man who apparently wanted him dead.

“Primary locking mechanism compromised,” the computer voice droned.

Neither answered it. Kordath didn’t dare to give away his position, whilst Andrelious chose not to waste any sarcasm on the unfeeling device.

“Defence system activated. Room will be depressurised in t-minus ten minutes,” the voice continued. As it gave this alarming warning, a large durasteel panel slid out of the floor and covered the fairly flimsy looking door. Andrelious cursed under his breath. His plan had been to finish the Ryn off, then saber his way out. Durasteel wasn’t invulnerable to a lightsaber blade, but the thickness of the new panel was enough that the job would take time. Time he no longer had.

“Don’t think this means anything, Ryn. I will find a way out of here. You, on the other hand, have minutes to live,” the Sith stated coldly, now actively searching for his opponent’s Force imprint.

Kordath chose not to answer. He kept silent as he watched and waited for his fellow Arconan to make his next move.

Come on, Chubs. You’ll stall yourself to death if you don’t do something soon, the Priest mused to himself as Andrelious began to pace about the room, eyes closed as he swept the room with the Force. It wouldn’t be long before he unveiled Kordath, but time was ticking away.

Three more minutes. Then I’ll have to just give this chase up and cut my way out, Andrelious thought as he continued to scan the area. Finally, he sensed another Force imprint nearby. But Kordath too was reaching out to the Force. The Warlord realised at the last moment just what his opponent was doing, and, opening his eyes, spun his lightsaber in front of him in a defensive movement. A chair, from a nearby cubicle, had been hurled directly at him, forcing him to cleave it in half with his weapon. The act was enough to break his concentration for a few seconds. A few seconds that allowed Kordath to slip further away.

“Throwing furniture now? If you’d wanted a barroom brawl, we could have gone to the cantina! At least we wouldn’t suffocate to death!” Andrelious called out, beginning to deeply regret his destruction of the lock.

Kordath again chose not to respond. He was too busy studying the extremities of the room in an attempt to find another way out. Aside from the now blockaded door, there were a few vents that were all far too small for anything bigger than a MSE Droid to travel through. The Ryn guessed they would automatically close once the countdown reached its climax.

Andrelious resumed searching with the Force, this time with a little more caution. He kept his lightsaber ready and armed, its buzzing the only sound that could be heard in the silent chamber.

The final countdown was on.

Really starting to question my decision about carrying a blasted lightsaber, thought the Ryn, glaring at the durasteel barrier blocking his way out. The irate Sith was a secondary issue at this point; sure he was armed and angry but in a few more minutes none of that would matter. With a mental sigh of resignation, the Priest realized he was going to die in here. Getting the weapon from the Warlord was laughable; the Human would either overpower him or just kill him with it. Either way, depending how long the de-pressurization of the chamber lasted anyways, he’d likely not survive.

The Krath had an convoluted fear of modern space travel that had amused many of his friends in the Clan. Flying didn’t bother him, as was evident of his past prior to the Brotherhood that involved freighter hopping from world to world. Seeing what he was flying through, well that was different. As such, the Priest had made one of his more morbid study subjects all the ways he could meet his demise in space. Depressurization wasn’t very high up on that list, but he had a suspicion that the Chamber hadn’t been designed for it to be non-lethal. It would hurt more then having his tail forcibly ripped out of his body and beaten half to death with it, but it might not kill him.

With a shake of his head, Kordath tried to focus on the matter at hand. Andrelious was getting closer to him. Licking his lips nervously, the Ryn took a deep breath and dropped the veil he’d been projecting to hide himself. Almost as quickly as he reappeared, the saber blade of the Sith came lancing in. The Priest sent a short blast of energy towards the Human, knocking him off balance for a moment and the weapon off point enough to keep from being skewered. Kordath scrambled past the stumbling Sith, panting already a little as he felt the muscles in his legs tense up for the jump he made towards the top of a nearby cubicle.

Catching the edge of the small enclosure and pulling himself up, just moments before the emerald blade gouged several inches of wall where his tail had been, the Ryn grunted in exhaustion. He’d already come to the point where he knew death was inevitable. The Human would hold up to the initial loss of pressure better than he from sheer grit and the experience of years of piloting. And as Kordath lay on the cold stone floor, bleeding from the ears and nose, the Warlord would put him down and then begin cutting his way out. Mind racing for options, the Priest watched as the Sith’s head cocked a bit to the side, watching him from below.

Moments later, the Krath was trying to become one with the wall behind him as the E-11 sang out it's staccato rhythm, leaving small burning holes around the Ryn. Kordath muttered some choice curses, having not realized that the blasted Warlord had any other weapons with him.

If I survive this I swear….hah, yeah, sure, you’re not surviving this, Bleu, he thought to himself grimly.

“Come down here so I can end you, Ryn!”

“Why? So you can go open the bloody door you broke and leave? What’s so important, eh? What’s the great Andrelious have to live for?” Kordath held his breath, knowing that mocking his foe would at least make him angrier. An angry enemy was an unfocused one, in the Ryn’s mind.

The Sith scoffed at this attempt, “You know very well what my life is worth these days, Bleu, my girls need me to be a father.”

Kordath sighed, having curled up atop the small cubicle with his face just nearly exposed over the edge, and decided to do something he’d normally consider foolish. He’d spent enough time with the Sith, between defending Arconan territory and that nasty business on Korriban, to know the man was cruel to those weaker then him. He was a Sith, after all. “Yeah...no, your wife isn’t exactly past her prime yet, Chubs. I’m sure she can find them another dad, eh? Maybe one with proper parenting qualities….like honor, and duty and all that poodoo. Hey, I know! Maybe she can find herself a Jedi, bet they’d make a lovely couple….”

The Ryn trailed off as he felt a surge of anger and power from below him, allowing him a brief moment to wonder what the Sith was trying. His fear of exposing himself to the blaster fire meant he’d not been keeping an eye on the Warlord, which made the shrieking sound of plasma and thin durasteel all the more shocking. Almost as surprising as the emerald blade that came burning through the top of the cubicle as if it were made of parchment before it passed through the Ryn’s robes and chest. If it hadn’t pierced a lung, vaporizing the flesh and turning the air within into burnt ozone, he might have screamed. Instead he rolled off the top of the cubicle, falling the ten or so feet to the ground with a sickening thud.

“O..oow….”

Andrelious stepped out from the enclosure, hilt in hand with a look of smug satisfaction.

“You tried to make me angry enough to end your life before the Chamber could kill us both. Not so many quips now, hmm, ratboy?”

Bleu raised a hand weakly and made a rude gesture to the Sith, who snorted in derision. Andrelious turned away from him, heading towards the door and his hopeful escape. Kordath labored for breath as he watched the Warlord walk away from him, gritting his teeth as he tugged at the front of his sash. With a curse for his failure at studying more of the arts of Force-related healing techniques, the Ryn pushed himself up to one knee and clutched at the hole in his chest. He was almost certain he could hear a slight whistle come from it when he moved, absently wondering if the wound went all the way through.

The Sith was studying the barrier, trying to recall where the door had been exactly, before pulling his hilt back to plunge the blade into the center. He grunted in surprise as he felt one of his feet get pulled back, a glance down showing the Ryn’s purple sash wrapped around the ankle and a pair of furry hands holding tight to the fabric.

“What are you even trying to accomplish at this point, Ryn?” he growled, shaking his head and stabbing his saber into the barrier.

Kordath hissed out at the Sith, “Just because I lose, doesn’t mean you get to win….least I can do one good thing before I die….making sure you don’t get out of here…” The Ryn trailed off as both men froze up at the sound of the intercom emitting a tone before speaking again.

“Barrier breach attempt detected. Anti-Jedi countermeasures deploying.”

With a grim fascination, the Krath and Sith watched a pair of panels to either side of the entry way slide away, and an array of rods deployed. Kordath’s eyes grew wide as he recall the dura-weave he’d had his sash reinforced with so that it would be more useful in situations calling for its use in combat. He’d wrapped both ends firmly around his wrists to have a better hold on the Human, his only hope having been to trip the Sith and maybe, just maybe having the Warlord fall on his own saber. Instead, this was going to happen, he realized with a mental sign of anguish, wondering when the pain would end.

“Counter...measures?” spoke the Sith, glaring at the odd rods with the tips capped with metal spheres, before shaking his head and pushing his blade further. The two arrays sparked brightly, blinding the two Arconan’s for a few seconds before an arc of electricity traveled between the two of them. And through Andrelious, who convulsed and lost grip of his weapon, falling to the floor next to the now twitching Krath who’d caught a good bit of the charge himself through the metal reinforced sash.

“Breach attempt has been foiled. De-pressurization shall now commence so as to deny further attempts. We hope your time at the Academy has been fruitful and educational.”

“Karking computer,” muttered the Ryn, feeling every muscle in his body start to relax, feeling as if he’d been on a week long bender on Nar Shaddaa again. Metal glinting caught his eye, even as he felt his ears pop with the air being sucked from the room. Andrelious’ lightsaber was laying just a few feet from him, so close yet still feeling so far to the worn out and beaten Ryn. Trying to push himself up to at least his knees, the Krath reached out for the weapon, fingertips brushing it for a bare moment before it jumped away. The sound of the blade activating told the Priest where it’d gone, back to it’s master.

“At least I’ll get to see you die for this, Ryn,” growled the Sith, having regained his feet and standing above the Priest.

Kordath rolled over onto his back, tired of all of it. He glared at the Human, before a wide smile spread across his features. “How many times did you come close to dying like this in combat missions, Chubs? Funny this is how you’re gonna die, huh?” When the Sith’s eyes narrowed, Kordath closed his own, barely feeling the sensation of heat as the emerald blade cleaved his head in half.

Andrelious sighed, feeling the air pressure dropping rapidly, and collapsed to the ground, cursing his decision to ever come to the Chamber. Blackness clouded his vision as the oxygen was sucked from the room, blood streaming from both nostrils as he fell to the smooth stone floor of the room. He coughed, once, a spattering of blood coming along with it, before he lost consciousness. His last thought, At least if I die, they can’t punish me for this kark up.

“Room will be depressurised in t-minus five minutes,” the computer voice droned.

“Come on out, Ryn! Let’s finish this!” Andrelious called out, more than a hint of panic to his tone.

Kordath decided quickly that he would do no such thing. He knew that going against the Warlord would likely be suicide: Andrelious’ repertoire of Force powers and abilities were far more offensive than his own. Usually the Krath would instead rely on stealth and disguise to get the job done. With time against him, however, there was little he could do.

We’ll just wait it out, Chubs. You’ll either die in here with me, or cut us both a way out, Kordath thought as he continued to observe his opponent. He had chosen a hiding spot in a far corner of the room, determined to eke out every second that he could. If Andrelious found him, he’d have to try and finish the Ryn off quickly.

“Very well. Once again you’ve proven yourself to be a coward,” the Warlord continued, not caring if Kordath could hear him.

Andrelious began to slice his way through the panel that barred his way out of the room. His emerald blade cut through the durasteel a little more easily than he had been expecting, but he could see that the task was going to take at least two minutes.

As soon as the Sith’s back was turned, Kordath began to sneak slowly towards the room’s exit, ready to bolt as soon as his opponent had completed his task. He moved gingerly, keeping silent, and stopped whenever Andrelious craned his head around to see if he could spot the Ryn.

With a loud crash, a large chunk of the durasteel panel fell to the ground. Andrelious immediately repeated his cutting action on the door itself. As he had expected, it was far less resilient and it too soon gave way, granting access to the corridor beyond.

“Alert. Door has been breached. Depressurisation sequence aborted,” the computer confirmed, almost unnecessarily.

With a final check to make sure that Kordath wasn’t about to plunge a knife into his back, the Warlord prepared to head into the corridor. Somewhere behind him, his opponent was getting ready, too. During his movement towards the door, Kordath had retrieved the knife that he had dug into Andrelious’ foot, placing it back with its twin. As he approached the Warlord, his hand moved, ready to grab one or both of his weapons should the need arise.

“Thanks for the assistance, Chubs. Better luck next time you manage to get me in a locked room!” Kordath teased, readying himself to skip past Andrelious and away down the corridor. However, instead of preparing to give chase, or simply let the blue-furred alien escape relatively unscathed, Andrelious spun around on his heels, his lightsaber ready for action. Kordath, though he had foreseen this, lacked the agility needed to completely dodge the incoming blade, which sliced a shallow cut in the Ryn’s chest. Kordath winced as burning pain seared through his body.

Smiling at his success, the Warlord moved across Kordath’s path, using his bulky frame to bar the Krath’s progress.

“Leaving so soon? But you’ve not done your research!” Andrelious taunted. His opponent backed away, trying and failing to see a way around the Sith.

Dammit, Chubs. I didn’t think you’d be such a good door, the Ryn thought to himself.

As he approached his fellow Arconan, Andrelious removed his left hand from its grip around his lightsaber, extending it towards Kordath. A single jolt of electricity sparked from his fingers, shocking the Priest easily. Kordath had again been forewarned of what his opponent was planning, but the power of the attack caught him off guard. He dropped the knife that he had placed in his own right hand; his plan had been to stab Andrelious through the wrist as he withdrew from the electrical attack.

“See, that’s the problem with you, Ryn. You listen to Atty a little too much. You’re all about avoiding a fight. And that’s even after I put you with that psycho Zabrak to try and toughen you up a little. Still, you’re a clever one. Perhaps there will be a use for you,” Andrelious stated, pushing the discarded knife away with the Force.

“Better I listen to Blinky and run, than listen to a racist old man. You put me with Nath in the hope she’d kill me!” Kordath hissed back.

“Come now, Ryn. If I’d wanted you dead, I’d have dealt with you the second you stepped off that shuttle. Miss Voth was, as I just said, my way of trying to make you see that the dark is the way forward,”

Kordath frowned. “You failed with me, and you definitely failed with Blinky. If anything, it’s her who’s changed you. I remember what you were like when I arrived. Now you’re basically a washed-up veteran who sits in the mountains doing whatever that Missus of yours tells you! Some Sith you are. As soon as a woman turns up, you’re—””

Andrelious’ eyes flickered red. The Ryn’s statement had struck a nerve. “I’m what? Whatever you were about to say, it’s better than being a dirty little rat! Get out of my sight! I’m not going to give you the honour of being slain in battle. But mark my words, Kordath Bleu, you’d better sleep with one eye open. Accidents happen all the time!”

The Ryn quickly left the room, not quite sure why he was still alive. He had insulted Andrelious, calling him many incredibly rude names, and had also injured the Warlord. And yet, Mimosa-Inahj had let him go with little more than a minor wound on his chest.

Sith. I’ll never understand them. Kordath mused as he entered the turbolift.