When you are traversing the wild and untouched landscapes of the savannah, just remind yourself that you are never the apex predator. The vast and desolate area of sand, rocks, dead and ancient trees are all the same blood-orange color for a simple reason: to hide your worst nightmare from your sight, the Akul. A large, bipedal and orange furred mammal, the Akul are the top predators that hunt all sorts of bovine, dog, hooved and giant mammals. Using their extraordinary sense of smell, they can trace your scent from days long past and track you down without mercy.

Throughout the Savannah, tall and wispy Turu-grass stretches out into long ranging fields. Watering holes are sparse and spread thin, and the terrain offers little safety from the blazing sun that hangs overhead. When the sun retreats and gives way to moonlight, the Savannah becomes almost chill, but the night is dark and full of wild creatures. In the Savannah, it’s hunt or be hunted.

The sounds, sights and smells of Shilli’s frustratingly warm savannah region swept over Rayze and brought back memories of the other times he had found himself on similar worlds.

He’d hated them as well.

It wasn’t that the young man wasn’t appreciative of the supposed beauty to be found in such an environment, but more that he felt as though there was no real reason for someone of his abilities and standing to have been sent out to such a world. It had little strategic value in the grand scheme of things, and judging by his surroundings, it wasn’t exactly a metropolitan hub which would greatly help his Clan’s push to become stronger than they were the day before. Simply put, it was a pointless little world that he would gladly put in his rearview mirror the moment it was viable for him to do so.

All I need in order to make that a possibility is to find this artefact and grab it so I can get back to the Citadel.

That particular thought brought an exceptionally virulent curse from the Warlord, but he managed to suppress any bubbling resentment that had threatened to burst forth in a tirade of ranting, instead taking a deep breath and stretching out with the Force. Intel had pointed him to this region, with the supposed item being somewhere within a click of two or where he had left his ship. He had sensed an area of unidentifiable malevolence and had decided that it would be the best place for him to start his possibly fruitless search and, as he reached out with the Force, he had the feeling that he was still heading in roughly the right direction.

As the Sith was about to set off once more, he felt a presence somewhere on the edges of his senses, and he felt a pang of anger that the presence he felt seemed to be somewhere ahead of him: close to the point where he suspected the mystical artefact he was hunting could be. Breaking into a run, the Arconae began to dash through the waist-high grass with reckless abandon, his right hand plucking the lightsaber from his belt as he ran towards the presence that he had sensed. Maliciousness seemed to settle over him like a blanket as he approached what he assumed was the artefact that he had been sent to retrieve. The Warlord continued to probe with his senses as he ran, squinting his eyes and spotting a figure in the near distance by a break in the Turu-grass that he was wading through.

Son of the Sith! I will not be beaten to this prize.

Rayze contemplated grabbing his blaster and shooting a warning shot towards the figure, but thought better of it. He predicted that, given the noticeably arid conditions of the savannah within which he found himself, a random shot into the dry foliage that covered the land almost as far as the eye could see might inadvertently start a nasty fire. Instead, the young man decided to use one of his best tools for getting himself in and out of trouble: his voice.

“Hey! Suggest you walk away now friend, or we’re going to have a problem.”

Rayze burst out of the grass and into the clearing, the man across from him turning around as the Arconan skidded to a halt, working as much as possible to keep any heavy breathing from making him look unfit or in the least bit less than threatening. The robotic-armed stranger came fully around and regarded the Warlord with a measured look, hazel eyes flitting down to the lightsaber hilt grasped within the Erinos’ right hand before coming back up to meet Rayze’s.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, buddy.”

The Warlord sneered, lightsaber flaring to life in his right hand as he brought it up into his favoured ready stance.

“I’m not your buddy, pal.”

The inevitability of a fight dawned on the Sith and, wanting to start the battle on his own terms, Rayze charged.

“Hey! Suggest you walk away now friend, or we’re going to have a problem.” Delak heard an unknown warrior say from behind him.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, buddy.” Delak replied.

The Warlord sneered, lightsaber flaring to life in his right hand as he brought it up into his favored ready stance.

“I’m not your buddy, pal.” The warrior said quickly as he charged directly towards Delak. Instinctively Delak pulled his saber to his hand igniting it with the familiar snap-hiss that lightsabers normally made. Delak blocked the attack from the black haired figured, unaware of why he is being attacked like this. Delak parried the continued attacks from the attacking human, waiting for the perfect moment to strike back. He saw it, the opening was small but it was there. Delak stabbed with his blade, which would have normally gone right through the man’s stomach. Delak knew that this man was indeed strong with the force. There was no way he could have avoided the attack unless he had some sort of precognitive powers as Delak did. This would indeed be a fight that Delak may not be able to win. This tan skinned warrior moved through the tall grasses with great speed and agility and he seemed like he would never stop. There was another slash and another, Delak had to move quickly to avoid each hit. This fight was pushing him to his limits and he knew that he would need to figure a way out of this. The speeder bike he was using was only a few meters away, he had to get to it.

“This has indeed been fun whoever you are. I don’t know why you want me dead but I will not give you the satisfaction.” Delak stated as he pushed the man backwards with his blade. He sent out shocks of lightning from his hands trying to distract the man long enough to get away. The man stepped back to block the lightning with his saber. Delak took advantage of the break in combat and jumped the few meters to his bike and started the engine. Within seconds he was flying away from the combat.

“That was insane!” Delak thought to himself as he flew off in the direction of the hidden temple he had been searching for. The temple was said to have been where a member of Arcona’s leadership had hidden away a powerful artifact that could turn the tide of any war in Scholae’s favor. Delak had been searching for this temple for months and had gotten no closer than he was now. He knew it was around here somewhere, and now he had to worry about this new warrior that had come seemingly from nowhere. It must have been someone from Arcona. He had heard rumors from one of the local watering holes that someone from another clan had been poking around for the temple. The artifact would be Delak’s if it was the last thing he did.

Rayze blocked the incoming lightning with ease, catching the shards of energy on his blade and protecting himself from their fury. However, his opponent took the opportunity to run over to his speeder, jump onto the small craft and begin to pilot it away from the now-furious Arconan.

Oh that frakking does it!

The thought clouded the Warlord’s mind with rage, that familiar red mist which had bemused and angered so many of his superiors in the past descending and blinding him to reasonable thought. With a snarl, Rayze dashed forwards with alacrity enhanced by the Force and grabbed onto the back of the speeder as it began to jet away, his mighty strength the only thing that kept him from falling off in an undignified sprawl.

Clipping his lightsaber to his belt with his free hand, Rayze thanked whatever deity was listening that his opponent was momentarily preoccupied with thoughts of his mission and narrow escape from the raven-haired Sith, and began to pull himself up on to the back of the speeder, trying to be as steady as possible so as to not give away his position. Now secured in a better position, the Erinos glanced towards the front end of the vehicle and approximated where the engine of the craft was, his mind work sluggishly through the haze of his battle fury. Satisfied that he had a good idea of what he wanted to do, the Warlord pulled himself fully upright, grabbed his lightsaber and darted forwards with unnatural speed, igniting the weapon as he moved. Rayze lashed out, his weapon almost singeing the hair of the other man as he instinctively ducked away, but the Warlord’s aim was true as the energy blade sliced easily through the engine that he thought he had located, cleaving it in two and causing the craft to immediately begin to drop to the ground. The Arconae pushed himself away from the stricken vehicle and landed heavily in the tall grass that covered the Savannah, rolling to a stop a handful of metres away with a groan. Using the Force to push aside the aches and pains that came from falling from a rapidly moving vehicle, Rayze looked over at the wreckage of his opponent’s craft and let himself smile at the destruction. Lightsaber still in hand, the human walked towards the crashed speeder, talking loudly as he did so.

“Now see, that wasn’t very nice. I come up to you all honorable, and you try to shock me and run away?”

Movement in the wreckage alerted Rayze to his opponent’s survival, and he had to give a small amount of grudging respect for the other man for being able to move after the crash, even if it was only on his hands and knees at first.

“Ah, I see that you’re still moving? Good, I have a feeling that you have information that my Clan and I could find invaluable. After all, dead men tell no tales, right?”

The Arconae watched the human emerge fully from his crashed speeder and rise to his feet, an achievement in itself. Bringing his lightsaber up into a ready position once more, Rayze set his feet and readied himself for another round of combat.

“Now, are you going to come quietly? Or have you decided that you want some more prosthetics?”

Delak groaned and went to stand but felt a mound of metal on his back. He didn’t know what had happened. One second he was flying away at top speed across the grassy savannah, the next he was crashing and waking up under a pile of scrap metal. Delak could hear someone talking but he couldn’t quite make out what the person was saying. He pushed through the pain and called upon the force to enhance his strength, he pushed himself up through the pile of metal. “Ah, I see that you’re still moving? Good, I have a feeling that you have information that my Clan and I could find invaluable. After all, dead men tell no tales, right?” The warrior stated.

Delak pulled out his lightsaber and ignited the crimson blade. The Knight was very angry at this point and ready for a fight, no matter where it led to. “Now, are you going to come quietly? Or have you decided that you want some more prosthetics?” The warrior prodded at Delak verbally.

“You impudent wretch. Who the heck do you think you are anyways?” Delak scoffed as he asked his question.

“My name is no consequence because soon you shall be my prisoner.” The warrior said in great seriousness.

“You will try.” Delak finished as he launched his attack. Delak spun and twisted his body as he landed his blade against the enemy warrior’s blade. The sparks splashed around off of the blades. Delak took an inward step towards his foe and stabbed at his midsection. The warrior sidestepped the attack and ducked down into a lower spin kick tripping Delak to the ground. Delak fell hard and his lightsaber hit the grass from the land around him. He turned his head in time to see the grass light on fire because of how dry it was. The fire started small and grew larger as the wind began to blow harder swirling around the two men. The other warrior laughed as the fire grew, he liked this kind of fighting.

Delak climbed back to his feet and watched as the first swirled and grew faster and faster. The savannah was ablaze and it was his fault. Delak hurled himself at his enemy attacking hard and fast trying to catch him off guard. The warrior was too quick for him. He blocked and parried every attack Delak threw at him. The fight would only end with Delak losing to this foe and becoming his prisoner as he had promised in the first place. Delak lowered his blade and his head slowly as the warrior stood tall above him. The fight had been drawn out as long as Delak could muster. He knew nothing he did at this point would matter if the enemy knew it was coming.

“You have been beaten, you are now my prisoner and you shall tell me all that I require.” The warrior stated.

“First tell me your name warrior.” Delak insisted.

“Warlord Rayze of Arcona. Now what is yours?” Rayze replied.

“Knight Delak Krennel of Clan Scholae Palatinae. You will regret this.” Delak said angrily.

“Oh I doubt that Knight. They will pay to get you back from us. It will only be a matter of time. Now tell me what I wish to know.” Rayze insisted.

“I will never tell you anything Arconan. I would die before telling you anything that I know. You will continue to search and never find what you are looking for.”Delak said passionately.

“Then you are no use to me.”

Razye walked up to Delak and hit him in the gut with a sucker punch. Delak dropped to one knee in pain just in time for Rayze’s knee to meet his face. Delak fell down backward amidst the blaze around him. Rayze saw a small pond in the near distance. There was no grass near it to burn so he dragged the fallen Knight there and left him to bake in the sun as he continued his mission.