The wild planet of Kashyyyk is known to be home to the gentle, but short-tempered race of Wookiees. Wild and untamed, the lush, wroshyr tree-filled forests form a multi-layered deathtrap. The local wildlife presenting more dangers as one descends towards the forest floor. However, as one ascends the vertical environment, the danger of falling increases until one comes in contact with the Wookiee settlements. Fauna and flora flourish in delight, growing within dirt pockets in the crevices of the trees. Some of these plants are carnivorous, becoming larger and deadlier closer to the forest floor. Others have some form of consciousness, able to communicate with the Wookiees to give some understanding of their use.

In one particular forest, you have traversed the vertical nightmare from Wookiee settlements and into the unknown to become lost within the canopies. Within the crevices in the trees, empty fruit and rotting shells from seeds show the spring season has ended. A soft wind whistles between the thick vines and shrubs that stick to the trunks of the ancient and sleeping giants. Despite the near-ending lack of footholds aside from the branches of wroshyr trees, you have found a series of abandoned and rotting platforms suspended a hundred meters above the surface, once home to a Wookiee settlement. Overgrown and decayed, it has since nourished countless plants and trees with their outstretched branches sheltering the dense and soft floor from the extreme sun rays and torrential rain. Upon closer inspection your eyes can pick up unusual signals. Moss carpets particular areas on the platforms and nowhere else, tree-dwelling animals and birds never land on the surface. In the corner of your eye you see something swaying, at first thought appearing to be another species of vine. But when you turn your head fully, you clearly see it is rope, damp but tightly locked. You feel that you have entered an arena without invitation, and the motivation to search further intrigues your mind. Tread carefully, or you will fall whim to the creatures that inhabit this terrain.

Kashyyyk was probably one of the most glorious worlds V'yr had had the privilege of setting foot on. Not only because of its history and lore, but also for its intricate flora which she loved to commune with. A plant being herself, the Herald found a kinship in the ancient rainforest’s plants and wroshyr trees. Most of the rainforest was actually sentient, but some of the plants were actually aware of her. Normally, she'd have taken the time to be more at one with flora, but today the unsettling apprehension coming from her apprentice, Turel, had soured her desire for communing with the forest.

She was too much aware that Turel was somewhere far away, and beyond her help. Meanwhile, something caught her eye somewhere above her.

Out from the canopy of branches, a bird of prey suddenly dived for a small reptile that was clung to one of the trees. With a sharp ‘hoot’ and a series of quick consecutive ‘caws’, the skirmish ended as suddenly as it had started. The hunter had been calculating and deadly. No sooner had the bird’s talons pierced the reptile through and through that it had flown off with its prey. All that remained was a lone feather, softly floating down towards her as it twirled gently in the soft afternoon breeze.

The general suddely shivered as a chill coursed through her. Her link with her sister was suddenly cut away from the Force. V’yr instinctively looked up towards the sky again, instinctively reaching our and searching. Just as suddenly, the apprehension from Turel was also cut short. She could no longer feel either of them through the Force. The 'abandoned' wookie settlement suddenly felt desolate and foreboding.

‘Something is very wrong,’ V’yr thought as she considered the rope that was securely fastened to one of the higher branches.

Calindra meanwhile, had been waiting almost half a day for the encounter. Her target -- the very high profile general and recently elevated member of the Dark Council -- had shown up, just as Calindra had been told she would. She was also told to wait until the target's attitude suddenly shifted. What she hadn’t expected was the outwardly calm reaction V’yr had shown when the bonds with her apprentice and sister were severed.

She was certain that the event had shaken the Neti’s resolve, even if only a little. You simply didn’t go toe to toe with a decorated war hero and seasoned general without some preparation. Truth be told, the operation had taken months of preparation and research, not to mention a lot of leg work with imperial intelligence officers in at least three different sectors of the galaxy. The hardest part was ensuring it all happened at the same time.

“Did you think they wouldn’t try to test you, Herald?” Calindra taunted as she stepped out of the shadows. “Did you feel their deaths? Does it pain you?”

V’yr took in the new arrival, surprised that she hadn’t noticed her earlier. Perhaps that this particular ‘detail’ had somehow blended in with the rest of the life that teemed all around them. Meanwhile, she could sense that the woman in front of her was walking a dark path; however, she didn’t sense that the newcomer had fully embraced the darkness either.

There was also a utilitarian look to the woman, as if everything she had on her served a distinct purpose. Any observer could easily distinguish her weapons; a blaster was plainly visible; an electronic time piece was on her right wrist, and the fingers of her right hand were delicately curled around an unlit lightsaber's shaft. Calindra’s face and curly blond locks were hidden away by the dark Shoufa scarf that was neatly wrapped around her head. Her clothes were also dark and tight fitting, molding and caressing her athletic figure. Only her dark brown eyes and light coloured skin peeked through.

“Are you so certain that it’s me they’re testing?”

Calindra felt the warm gentle breeze, but waved a hand dismissively. “We are always being tested in some way, or another,” Calindra said as she threw the lightsaber.

Reacting quickly, V’yr’s own lightsaber ignited to parry whatever blow might be coming, but the attack never came. Instead, Calindra's lightsaber ignited in mid-flight and whirled towards the rope, cutting and setting it on fire.

The blade veered back towards its master, as the rope fell to the ground, but the General reached out with her off hand and the crimson blade suddenly found its way in her grasp. A small grin crossed the Herald’s lips. “That wasn’t the brightest of opening moves,” she stated matter of factly before the 'fuel drenched' rope ignited the rest of the fuel Calindra had poured around the decaying platform. The two rivals were suddenly encircled by a wall of flame. Moss blackened and recoiled from the flames as the fire quickly grew in heat and intensity, consuming dying leaves and dried out wood.

“Foolish girl! What have you done!?!” V’yr shouted in disbelief. The girl's arrogance was one thing, but jeopardizing the jungle and its plant life was a sin almost beyond redemption. “Don’t you know these plants are conscious living beings?!”

Calindra could feel the general’s anger and the rage, but stood her ground. “I think I’ve just evened out the odds, Jedi.”

‘Let’s finish this!’ V’yr resolved, as she advanced on the contemptuous girl, but the flaming rope came to life just as suddenly; twisting itself around the general’s legs to slow her down.

The rope slithered up her leg, ignitingher robes with a small flame. The heat started burning her skin, and even though it was only a small flame at best, it still pained her enough to be a distraction. Vorsa’s eyes shot to the rope, then to her adversary who kept a cool sabacc face even as she controlled the burning line. The blonde felt a pressure, a rush of air and then something grabbed her face and pushed back. She stumbled back slightly, surprised by the sudden motion. The Neti had moved her hand so quickly that Calinda barely saw it. It was enough to break her concentration.

As the blonde refocused on the Neti, Vorsa had already disposed of the rope that bound her leg and her wounds were healing rapidly. She stood there, pure rage spewing from her golden eyes. Calindra suddenly felt her heart skip a beat - fear was creeping in, slowly. Even with her master plan set into motion, the Herald held her lightsaber, and all the cards, in her hand.

The fuel she had spread around the platform carried the fire, burning ropes, branches, moss and canopy alike, but the massive trunks wouldn’t catch fire. The intense heat made the trees smoke profusely and the suffocating clouds spread in all directions. Calindra inhaled a whiff of smoke and coughed as the fumes irritated her lungs. She pulled her red muffler across her mouth as her focus returned to the Herald.

The Neti took a step forward through the smoke, gaze meeting Calindra’s intently. “I shall give you a lesson now which you will never forget. The rainforest never burns as you want it to. It burns as it is meant to. Fire will never set these trunks aflame, and you have miscalculated in your plans and put yourself in even greater risk.” Vorsa took another step closer as burning leaves fell slowly around her, the canopy above them now covered in flames.

“Your first mistake, girl, was concocting this ploy. But your greatest mistake was targeting my sister, and the man I love. For that, you will die today.” Calindra felt the Neti’s mind open up, revealing the truth to her, and all she felt was darkness. Vorsa’s mind, somewhere along the way, had flipped a switch, only anger and a need for revenge fuelling her intent. Calindra felt that intent all too clearly - she was going to die. Fear gripped her strongly then and it would not let go.

The noblewoman’s saber flew through the air into it’s owner's hand with grace and elegance. The Knight could barely ready herself before the Neti was upon her, raining a fusillade of blows on her defenses. Vorsa’s blade was a veritable blur as she assaulted the younger woman, who seemed to hold her own even as she backed away from Fury taken form.

The combatants exchanged blows as the fire spread further, snapping the ropes that held the platform together. With every new snap the platform seemed to shake slightly, making the two women lose their footing or misstep during a blow. Utter chaos engulfed their battlefield, and as the canopy above burned to nothing, both could feel the coming pressure from above: cool air followed by a deluge. Rain washed over them, slowly at first, but soon it turned into a torrential downpour, covering the platform and spreading the fuel even further as it carried across the water’s surface.

Calindra felt her heart skip again. Her plan, all at once, was in ruins as the rain prevented the fire spreading to the nearby trees. The steam created from the evaporated water spread the smoke even further, choking the blonde even through her wet scarf. It was something she had never planned for: summer showers. She had a good understanding of the rainforest now that she had read up on it, but downpours were barely predictable.

Vorsa’s onslaught continued and Calindra could feel her arms starting to ache,her legs becoming more sluggish with every blow. The general pushed the woman even further towards the smoldering platform’s edge and Calindra felt caught in the worst circumstances, between a searing blade and a sheer drop to her death.

V'yr's attacks were vicious and relentless, and while Calindra was keeping up, she couldn't maintain the effort indefinitely. Soaked by the torrential flash rains, the planks had been cleaned of most of spring's impurities. Discarded nut shells and loose plants had fallen over the edge, and if Calindra wasn't careful, she'd suffer the same fate.

The mission had never been V'yr's destruction. It had been an exercise to see if V’yr was worthy of sitting on the Dark Council. It was meant to expose her weaknesses and exploit them. In this case her attachment to Turen and her sister were open scabs that anyone could exploit; and the Council needed Darksiders, not gentle 'tree huggers.' If Calindra had been sent, then other Councilors would send more after her to test the new Herald's worthiness. If she died at the hands of a lowly and recently elevated knight, then the posturing would have continued with the next person appointed to the Council.

Meanwhile, Calindra was all too aware that she was a pawn in an even grander scheme. The way Calindra saw it, this posturing — any posturing, really — was meant to ensure that the strongest and most cunning of characters remained in power. It was nature's own credo: 'the survival of the fittest.' If species were to thrive, they had to constantly struggle for survival. It was only apt that those in power should be exposed to the same standards.

Fact was, V’yr’s loved ones were still alive, and weren’t ever in any real danger. They had simply been cut off from the Force, but such a link between people could easily be exploited. Calindra, however, hadn’t been given any of those details for fear that her target would see through the deception. It had been someone else’s plan, and Calindra had been only been following the specific instructions she'd been given.

And yes, she could very well die to see it done. Pushing that fear down as best as she could, however, Calindra defended herself against the Herald's fury and pushed onward with the objective.

“You call yourself a defender of nature, but we Sith understand nature better than you do,” Calindra growled as both women’s lightsabers locked. “Nature is the cruelest of teachers,” she continued, “it favours the survival of the fittest and most resilient creatures; it’s the weak and defenseless that die. I’ve done nothing more than act like the lightning strike that would asunder this trunk, if not today, then sometime in the future. Barring that, time itself would have choked the life out of these trees to make way for the new… Death is always making way for life…”

Calindra suddenly stopped resisting her opponent and shifted away from the edge just before V’yr’s assault pushed her into it. She had initially acted as a barrier for the Herald's fury, but that barrier was suddenly gone. Like water that had been held back by a floodgate, V’yr had nowhere else to go once it was out of her way. A swift change in Calindra's stance had given the young woman the advantage. She followed through with a roundhouse kick to her target’s back, sending V’yr over the edge in a scream of fury.

In her freefall, V’yr used all her will and anger to finish the jump. She was now committed, and so she sailed through the air towards the trees surrounding the platform. Her feet landed on one of the massive trunks and with a mighty Force-assisted push, she vaulted back upwards towards the platform.

Normally, Calindra would have taken the time to hide in the hopes to ambush her opponent, but she was specifically told to keep V’yr focused on her so that her rage wouldn’t evaporate. Rage needed a constant focus, otherwise it would crumble like a house of cards, and they wanted V'yr to feel the Darkside's seductive embrace.

Waiting for the precise moment that V’yr resurfaced, Calindra shot a hot plasma bolt and caught her squarely in the chest. Despite the surprise, V'yr still managed to hold on to the ledge, though barely. The shot had only slowed her down, and Calindra would need to do better than that to make her lose her grip.

“You call yourself a Jedi, but I know better. You thirst for my destruction, and lust for revenge,” Calindra shouted as she fired several more bolts. However, these weren’t aimed at V’yr now that she had secured her footing on the platform, ignoring the searing wound on her chest. Instead, the bolts blasted away at the rotten wood and ropes of one of the many structures directly above them. Calindra's efforts were soon rewarded by a loud groan as rotten ropes snapped under the strain.

The barrage of plasma bolts stopped just as the structure fell around them. One particularly large beam hit the deck behind V'yr, causing severe damage to the structure’s integrity. The logs behind V’yr started falling as the platform's ropes gave way. What started as a trickle soon transformed into a cascade of tree trunks falling loudly all around them. Propelled by instinct, both V’yr and Calindra propelled themselves with Force-assisted pushes and were now in a race upwards for the safety of another structure. Each of them jumped on a falling log as they pushed with the Force; landed, and pushed-off again from whatever surface they could find. Sometimes, Calindra or V'yr would purposely tried redirect their jumps to push objects towards the other, but there were limits to their abilities and their stamina.

Through some amazing effort and Force use, both of them reached the relative safety of the other platform. Soaked through and through, Calindra warily eyed her opponent as she caught her breath. Her blaster had retreated back into its holster, however her lightsaber was still in hand, unlit.

Meanwhile, V’yr's murderous rage ebbed and flowed through the Force; the seductive power of the Darkside intoxicating V'yr's thoughts. It demanded to be used, and whispered promises of Calindra’s destruction. It was an unspoken promise of power and immediate justice. All V’yr had to do was abandon herself to her hatred and reach for the Darkside’s destructive powers.

Everything had been orchestrated for it; from the long and exhausting trek into the wilderness to those closest to her disappearing from the Force; leaving her reeling with doubt and fear all in the hopes of leading her to anger, rage, and the Darkside.

For four hundred years she had eluded her worst fears. For four hundred years she had resisted the Dark Side’s influence as best she could. Through her darkest hours during the Clone Wars and the Great Jedi Purge, she had resisted. Through the Vong War and her apprentice’s death, she had resisted. And yet now, of all times, her mind was fogged by grief, her eyes blinded by rage.

It was a feeling that gave her power, but just like a fast burning match burnt brightly but briefly, it would burn her out. Vorsa could feel her very soul chip away as more and more Dark Side power funneled into her. She could see it clearly, like a scene from a holo movie unraveling in her shattered mind: a dark influence created in her own image controlled her every movement, her every decision and she was powerless, helpless to do anything except watch. So many times this had happened during a battle, her darker desires and feelings somehow escaping their prison and taking over, giving her some perceived notion of power.

But it was folly, and she knew it. She always regained control, reigned in her negative emotions and placed them under mental lock and key. The Dark Side held only death and ruin for everyone around her, including the ones she loved - ones that she would die for before hurting.

Vorsa’s consciousness, now divided between Light and Dark, fought for control. White currents of Force energy met dark tendrils of pure rage and power - and the Dark was winning. Slowly it pushed the light until it was merely a candle flame, then it pressed the advantage.

She moved like a blur from side to side, searching for a new angle to attack the Human from. Calindra’s lightsaber came to life, just nearly blocking the Herald’s right-hand strike to her legs. Another came from her left, and then another from another angle. Strike after strike smashed into the Knight’s defenses, as if she had more than one opponent. She ducked behind a high slash, aiming to sever her head from her neck. The Neti was fast, maybe too fast for the noblewoman. Panic kicked in again.

The Light shone again. The candle turned into a raging fire as it engulfed the darkness. The white hot current slammed into the Dark body, severing its control for Vorsa’s mind. The Light took over momentarily.

Another stroke of the blade, another near miss. Every time the orange saber came close to killing young Calindra, Vorsa pulled the killing blow and struck wide. The noblewoman could clearly see, and sense the battle going on within the Herald. She could make no sense of it, but she needed to press her again.

The Alderaanian jumped back away from her adversary as the Neti went into another bout with herself, tossing and twisting in place like a rakghoul victim. Calindra’s feet landed in a slippery puddle with a splash, and moments later she was on her back on the wet wooden floor, hanging precariously over the platform’s crumbling edge. Vorsa’s blade drew her attention when it showed up inches from her nose. The Neti was still furious, seething inside, but something was different. She seemed...exhausted, almost panting for breath as her blade swiftly rose above her head.

The Dark tookover for mere moments as the saber came down, aimed at young Calindra. But the Light would not give in so easily. White tendrils of Force energy impaled the Dark, its ethereal screams echoing through the Neti’s mind. The searing heat of two opposites combining soon expanded and exploded into a million, million fragments of consciousness and emotion. The Light stood triumphant, finally passing its final Trial of Spirit.

The blade descended with a screech and the sizzling sounds of wood and robes being burned. Vorsa slashed through the platform, avoiding the Alderaanian altogether. Her saber cut just a bit too much as the piece of the nearly ruined platform that held Calindra collapsed into the darkness. With a scream the young woman reached upwards, trying to grab something, anything to keep her from falling to her doom.

Without a moment's pause Vorsa slid over the edge after her. The Herald plummeted next to the noblewoman with great speed and, as their gazes met for a split second, smiled kindly. Then Calindra felt a rush from behind, like something was forcing her upwards, towards the platform. The young woman grabbed the ledge just in time but her gaze remained fixed on the Neti who fell towards the distant ground, her golden, tranquil gaze still focused on Calindra’s own.

Her mystical smile said nothing more than ’We shall meet again.’