Lightning shatters the sky and strikes the spire atop the cloning complex towering before you as you step off your ship and onto the rain-slick landing platform. Kamino, the Planet of Storms, is known for its roiling seas and constant torrential downpour.The fall of the Galactic Empire hit the planet’s primary export of military cloning projects extremely hard, but the Kaminoans remained afloat, both figuratively with contracts to galactic warlords, and literally with the brilliant engineering of their iconic seaborne cities.

The initial landing pad is a wide circle designed to accommodate a variety of ships, and is connected to a series of other platforms as well. Every surface is slick with rain, but avoids flooding due to the sloped edges that allow the water to run off into the sea below and away from the centerpoint.

The cloning facility’s exterior is characterized by similar slopes, and raindrops rapidly transform into steam as they touch against the series of lightning rods around the platform, much like they would if they dripped onto a lightsaber blade. You wonder which is deadlier as you observe the violent arcs of electricity course through the pylons.

History tells of the fateful encounter between Obi Wan Kenobi and renowned Bounty Hunter Jango Fett. The doors of the facility are sealed, which means that whatever challenge awaits you, will have to be faced in the heart of the omnipresent rainstorm. What history will you write?

“Just perfect,” Terran mumbled to himself, pulling his rain-soaked duster tighter around himself as he left the shelter of the walkway’s awning.

The walkways - covered to keep pedestrians clear of the icy depths that frothed beneath them - connected hundreds of landing platforms that served the Kaminoan cloning facility. The Gentleman Bastard was docked a half dozen platforms away. Forks of lightning split the night and torrential rain pelted the platforms, leaving them deserted. Even the Kaminoans aren’t crazy enough to go strolling about in this weather. Despite that, the Arconan had spent the last hour in the rain, eyeing the docking platform two walkways further down and periodically checking his chronometer. His target’s ship, long overdue, had finally landed.

As the shuttle’s ramp descended, Terran crept forward, circling the inner edge of the platform and ducking into the covered walkway beyond. He sped up as he crossed it, counting on the weather and relative darkness to conceal his presence. He knelt as he reached the walkway’s end, back pressed to the metal surface. The walkway’s wall chilled his back, even through his duster, and he forced down the apprehension that urged him to let this particular bounty go. Isshwarr, his Wookiee companion, had warned him that the credits weren’t worth the risk of exposure - they were, after all, already in the middle of a hunt - but La’venna’s offer was just too sweet a pot to ignore. A small-time gang leader from Nar Shaddaa, she was offering fifty thousand credits for her former crewman, who had shot her in the gut and left her for dead. Terran figured he could talk her up to double that when she realized Stahoes had gone on to become a Sith. Afterall, if she shows that even a Dark Jedi can’t escape her retribution, it should buy her a lot of street cred among the other crews on the Smuggler’s Moon.

Grabbing the WESTAR-M5 at his back and sliding it forward by its strap, he sighted down the rifle’s scope and zeroed in on the shuttle’s landing ramp. There was still no sign of movement, but it stood to reason that the Knight wouldn’t have lowered the shuttle’s ramp if he hadn’t intended to disembark shortly. Glancing anxiously at his chronometer and trying to ignore the incessant crash of waves and thunder around him, the Kiffar settled in to wait. He was only going to get a single shot at this.

Minutes passed without movement, then a quarter hour, and finally Terran reached out with his emotions in puzzlement. He could feel the ship in the center of the landing platform and hundreds of creatures in the waters below, but no other sentients in the immediate vicinity. Did the shuttle land on auto-pilot? Is it waiting to pick up a delivery? It didn’t make any sense. The tip he’d received made it clear that that Stahoes was supposed to be picking up this particular item - an experimental RNA recoding vector that was supposed to treat the side effects of his Tuk’atan eye - personally. Would he have trusted that to someone else? Given his reputedly paranoid nature, it was doubtful.

Suddenly, the doorway leading from the platform to the Kaminoan facility whooshed open, drawing the Kiffar’s attention. It closed again of its own accord after a few seconds, the platform still deserted. Must have been a glit— The thought cut off as another occurred to Terran. Cursing his own stupidity, he cast his emotions out over the platform before him, like a net thrown into the ocean, and felt a presence moving swiftly towards the shuttle. Karking Shadows! Taking a deep breath, the Gray Jedi put his eye back to the rifle’s scope and tried to line up his visual perceptions with the location he could feel the cloaked Sith. He took a deep breath and placed his finger over the trigger. Expelling all the air in his lungs, he led the place he felt the target by a half meter a depressed the blaster’s trigger.

The rifle’s blaat split the air and a dart of blue plasma lanced towards the platform. Quick as thought, the air shimmered and Bentre Stahoes appeared and dove towards the shuttle’s ramp. Though not nearly enough to cover the five meters of durasteel platform that separated him from his craft, the roll took him free of harm’s way. Switching the rifle to burst mode, Terran tracked the Sith’s roll and fired a trio of bolts as the Sadowan regained his footing, but the roll had afforded him the chance to drop the container he had carried and draw his lightsaber. The Shadow’s blue blade snap-hissed to life, intercepting the incoming volley of blaster fire and scattering it harmlessly into the ocean below. Terran’s finger squeezed again, but the Corellian bent his knees and leaped towards the shuttle. The bolts passed by him harmlessly and Stahoes’ Force-fueled dive carried him to the shuttle’s ramp.

If he gets back onto that shuttle, I’ll lose him. The Gentleman Bastard is fast, but by the time I can get back to it, that shuttle would be halfway to orbit. I need a distraction. Grimacing to himself, the Kiffar racked his brains for a plan. Then lightning struck, glinting off the fallen medical container. Reaching out with his mind, Terran felt the container and pulled it towards him. It slide across the smooth durasteel platform for a half dozen meters before it suddenly stopped, midway between the two men. The Arconan glanced up and could see the Corellian on the shuttle’s ramp, right hand outstretched towards the container. Concentrating harder, the container jerked a meter towards Terran before stopping and rattling back towards its owner. The Kiffar bore down with his emotions and the target of the pair’s mental tug-of-war lurched a second time, then a third.

“Frak this!” he muttered to himself, firing off a trio of blaster bolts. The Sadowan Sith’s saber rose reflexively to intercept them, but all three went wide - which would have been a problem, if they had been aimed in the first place. With Stahoes’ attention split between the telekinetic struggle and the bolts, Terran easily pulled the container free from his foe’s mental grasp. A flick of his eyes and a single thought sent the package past Terran and skittering to a stop near the far end of the walkway, just shy of the platform he had previously crossed.

The Corellian shouted something, the words lost to the waves and the thunder, before returning his lightsaber to his belt and drawing his SE-14 from its holster. Then he hopped from the shuttle’s ramp and ducked around the corner of the craft, fading from sight.

With a frustrated curse, Terran pulled his blaster rifle over his head and dropped it to the walkway. Then, drawing his own pistols, he charged out onto the rain-slick surface, hoping to end this before an errant wave knocked them both from the precarious platform.

I hate this planet. Stahoes grumbled to himself as he threw himself against the side of the shuttle. I had enough trouble convincing the Kaminoans to let me back onto the planet after my little brawl with that Palatinaean Sorcerer. It seems that everytime I try to accomplish anything anymore there is always somebody waiting to complicate matters. It’s even worse when all I want is a little peace of mind. The Shadow snorted as he approached the edge of the shuttle. I guess there is no rest for wicked.

Leaning around the corner, the Sadowan could see his attacker running down a walkway towards him. He really believes he is going to take me down with two little blasters? With a chuckle, the Sith turned around the corner, trying to bring his weapon to bear. He knew he could be hit, so he would have to make this quick. Zeroing in on his approaching target, Bentre pulled the trigger a few times. That was all he could manage to pop off before a quick barrage of returning fire forced him back against the shuttle. Blaster bolts peppered the platform just behind where he had been standing.

Somebody who is actually competent with a blaster. This day is just full of surprises. I wonder why this one wants me dead, though?

At least when he was on Nar Shadda, he knew why people had been hunting him. Could this situation be something like that? Was this someone who had an axe to grind against him? Or had the word of his deeds reached the ears of jealous wannabe rivals?

I guess I will just have to show him the error of his ways. The Corellian checked the power pack in his pistol. I should have more than enough in reserve to put this mutt down. He smiled, clicking the pack back into place.

Turning around the corner, Bentre gripped his blaster, ready to shower his assailant with bolts of hot death. The Sadowan was not prepared impact of a blaster across the jaw. His head slammed back painfully, and Stahoes staggered back in surprise.

I waited too long to retaliate. Anger boiled in his gut as tears of pain blurred his vision. Dazed, he tried to step back a bit, to put some distance between himself and his attacker.

“What in the Hells is your problem?” the words hissed from the Corellian’s mouth. “What did I ever do to you?” Backpedalling blindly, he tried to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” His opponent’s words had the slightest of growls behind them. The Journeyman’s vision had begun to clear, allowing him to see his opponent as an indistinct blur. Twisting wildly, the Shadow barely managed to keep from catching a blow to the face again. “You are a contract and nothing more.”

“Who wants me dead this time?” Bentre grunted as he struggled to keep his footing with each successive dodge. “No, you know what. Forget this nonsense.” Gathering his frustrations in a mental ball, Stahoes threw out his hand determined to shove the man back with the Force, even if it was just a little bit. A low grunt told him he had been at least mildly successful. Taking the small opening, Bentre wiped the water from his face to clear his sight. Stepping sideway, he tried to place a name to the man standing in front of him. Nothing came immediately to mind as he stared the man down. “Curious who you might be,” the Corellian grunted.

“The name is Terran Koul,” the man spoke evenly. “La’venna sends her regards.”

Smirking in spite of the throbbing in his head, the Shadow called his lightsaber to hand with the Force. As he ignited it, the Sapphire light lit up his face. “That’s a mighty nice gesture from a dead woman.” The Sadowan stepped back, giving the weapon a wide two-handed swing. Instinctively, Terran stepped back to escape the strike. “I would tell you to give her my regards,” Bentre quipped,” but don’t think for a moment I am not about to let you off this planet unscathed.”

Bentre lunged towards him, sapphire saber set to skewer the Seer, but the Force whispered to Terran and he flipped backwards, duster ruffling in the gale. He backpedaled, reholstering the blaster in his right hand as the Knight strode towards him. Bentre swung again, aiming to bisect the Arconan bounty hunter at his waist. A flick of Terran’s wrist released his lightsaber from its spring-loaded sheath and the Kiffar caught it with movements that bespoke years of practice. The blade came to life with a citrine fire, painting Terran’s dark blue eyes a burning orange, and he stepped into the Sadowan’s swing.

Sapphire plasma met amber ice with a crash, parrying the slice and pushing the blade up and overhead. Rain drenched the pair, soaking hair and clothing alike, but where it met the two sabers it sizzled and smoked. Terran’s mouth turned down in a scowl of effort and he knew he couldn’t keep Bentre’s saber up for long - not with only one hand. Luckily, he had no intention of doing so. Struggling with his rain-slicked fingers, he angled the blaster in his left hand towards the Sadowan’s gut and pulled the trigger - just as Bentre lunged to the side.

The Knight hit the ground and deactivated his saber, swiftly rolling away from the Equite. The maneuver, and the sudden lack of resistance to his saber, left Terran precariously overextended. He stumbled forward a handful of steps, long enough for his target to regain his footing.

The Sadowan’s blue saber snap-hissed back to life and Terran turned back towards the shuttle - now on the opposite end of the landing platform from the hunter and his prey. Focusing inward, he felt the fire that raged inside his chest and imagined it racing through his arteries. As fast as thought, he felt a surge of energy in his extremities, like an injection of adrenaline straight to the heart. A single bound ate the distance, and the Kiffar landed next to the Lambda-class shuttle.

An easy spin of his saber sheared through one of the craft’s laser cannons, bisecting the twin emitters, and Terran grasped the thin, footlong shafts with the Force. Spinning back towards the Human, the Arconan launched the makeshift spears at Bentre. The pair flew true, aimed for the Knight’s chest a half foot apart, and Terran fired off a salvo of blaster bolts in their wake. The bolts of blue plasma overtook the improvised missiles, and the Knight’s saber twirled to intercept them, knocking the trio away at random angles. The Sadowan sidestepped to his left, trying to avoid the emitters, but an errant gust of wind altered their trajectory. One flew past him, slamming into the far wall next to the facility’s door and clattering to the ground. The second passed below his right arm, slicing into him and laying open his side in its wake.

The Knight stumbled to his left, half from the would-be spear’s momentum and half from the unexpected pain. As Terran lifted his lightsaber and charged towards the Human, Bentre reached out with his hand to steady himself on one of a dozen dimmed lightning rods that were spaced around the platform’s exterior. The Arconan had covered less than half the distance before his rival stood, a look of concentration on his face. To the Kiffar’s surprise, Bentre strode towards him, slowly but steadily. He circled to Terran’s right as he did so, and the Equite followed suit.

The wind howled across the platform and another crack of lightning split the sky. It struck the lightning rod behind the Shadow - and directly across from Terran - and the sudden brilliance seared through the Kiffar’s optic nerves. His entire vision flashed white. Then it turned black and a spectrum of color washed across it. Frak me, he thought, reaching for the Force. He had been flash blind before. He knew it would only take a few seconds to clear. A few seconds might be two seconds longer than I live. Tapping into the Force, he focused his awareness outward, spreading across the platform.

There! Terran could feel the Knight barrelling towards him, his footsteps swallowed by the gale. The distance disappeared and he felt the Sadowan’s intent sharpen to a razor’s edge. The Force screamed in his ears and he dove forwards, passing just to the right of Bentre as the Knight swung, his blade’s horizontal arc shearing through empty air. The roll carried the Kiffar back to his feet and he dashed forward a half dozen meters. His vision began to clear, colors slowly painting shapes, and he could feel his prey pull up short and turn to face him. The shapes snapped into focus and Terran raised his blaster in an unsteady hand. He pulled the trigger, but even as the trio of bolts burned towards the Knight, the Arconan knew his shaking hand had betrayed his aim. Two of the blasts went wide, and Bentre easily batted the third aside to ablate harmlessly against the durasteel platform.

A growl issued from the Kiffar’s throat. Kark it!, he thought, firing off another set of bolts to distract the Sadowan and dropping his lightsaber into one of his duster’s many pockets. With his free hand - thankfully steady as a rock - he ripped a thermal detonator from his belt and slid the thumb switch forward to activate it.

“That shuttle is going nowhere!” he shouted as Bentre took a step towards him, saber raised.

Cocking back his arm, Terran saw the Knight’s eyes go wide. The Sadowan Shadow’s wrists came together in front of him, palms facing towards the Kiffar, and Terran lobbed the grenade at the shuttle an instant before the Sith’s will slammed into him. The blow sent him reeling backwards, and the Arconan managed to plant his feet mere inches from the platform’s edge before the detonator exploded into a bonfire of orange and yellow. The durasteel platform shook, but Terran stood firm, years of training allowing him to move just enough to maintain his footing. Flames raged around the ship, charring its hull black, and the Kiffar grinned at his prey, quirking an eyebrow as if to ask ‘What now?’

Then the shuttle’s fuel cells detonated.

The blastwave slammed into him, and all he saw below him was the roiling blackness of an ocean in storm.

That kriffing worm. Anger rolled over Bentre as the explosion drove him backward. Is he really that desperate to die? As his body tumbled from the force of the impact, the Corellian’s arms flailed in a desperate attempt to gain any kind of traction. His fingers skirted on the rain-slicked surface, his mind rushed for any kind of a solution. Seeing no immediate solution, Stahoes made a silent plea, Gods help me. Drawing desperately on the Force, the Shadow tried to drive his fingers into the ungiving surfaces and twisting his body.

A rogue wind buffeted the Journeyman’s body, and as his fingers finally made purchase on the platform’s surface. Every muscle in his body tensed as he tried flatten his body on the platform. I have to do anything to stop before I fall off into the oceans.

As though in answer to his silent pleas, his body came to a rough stop short of the platform’s edge. Before he could pull himself to his feet, the Force screamed out to the Knight, and he threw his body down. A second explosion rolled over the Shadow’s body, and he saw the form of Terran Koul tumbling off of the platform.

Oh you are not getting away from me that easily! The Corellian pulled himself roughly to his feet, and ran as quickly as he could, adrenaline driving each step against the painful protests of his sore joints. Reaching out in the Force, Bentre shot his arms out, and grasped at the air, determined to keep the Kiffar from falling into the torrential oceans below. After all the trouble you have put me through today, I will not lose you to the ocean! Focusing as deeply as he could in the Force, he pulled his arms back, driving the Equite back roughly back onto the platform.

With a growl, the Journeyman dropped to one knee. Between the physical stresses on his body and the drain of pulling on the Force in such a manner, his chest heaved rapidly with each ragged breath. I need to end this nonsense quickly. Koul does not understand what he has interrupted. Whether he is working for La’venna or not, he does not have the right to deny me relief from the ravages of my eye!

Baring his teeth, Bentre raised himself up on uneasy legs and dropped his hand to his side. His fingers did not meet the familiar metal of his lightsaber, and his eyes widened. I must have lost it in the explosion. Is there no end to the trouble I receive for seeking respite from my malady? The Corellian raised his hand to his chest, and plunged it into his jacket, wet fingers closing around the handle of the his SE-14 blaster.

“Do you realize what you have interrupted today?” Staggering forward, Bentre slowly approached the battered form of the Arcanist, as the Kiffar struggled to his knees. “All I want is just a little rest! All I want is for these voices, these apparitions to cease for even a little while!”

• He must suffer.* A rasping voice hissed in his ear, accompanying another painful step.

“That is all this trip was supposed to be, just a quick pick up.” The Corellian drew a deep, angry breath. “Nobody had to die.”

Except for this one. The hissing words became a deep chuckle.

“It took weeks to convince them to let me back onto this planet! All that effort, wasted because some schutta decided to put a price on my head, to send someone to kill me after all time.” Bentre shook his head.

He needs to suffer for his transgression. Rend him in two! Cast his corpse into the waves below! First you must make him suffer! He must beg for mercy!

“So tell me, good buddy,” he spit the last words. “What do you have to say for yourself before you meet your reckoning at my hand?” He waved his blaster in the air once, before bringing the barrel to bear on his opponent. Still, some small part of him wanted to hear those final words before he pulled the trigger. He hoped the Equite would at least give out a whimper before his met his rightful end.

“I have to say,” Terran smirked at the Sadowan, “duck.”

You dirty, scheming little kung! The voice screamed in Bentre’s head.

Pulling his hands up into an open-palmed gesture, Terran closed his eyes for a moment. Pieces of the shuttle, scattered on the platform near the Equite rose up into the air. In unison, the makeshift projectiles flew toward the Knight, prompting Bentre to roll sideways.

It was not enough as the stresses of the conflict had left Stahoes far too weary. His footsteps faltered, and the first pieces of debris struck him hard in the side and chest. Pain wracked the Shadow’s body as he tried to push past the pain. It took every bit of his concentration to draw on the Force to steady his body. He refused to succumb to these injuries.

Drawing a bead on the Kiffar, Bentre fired three times, two shots going wide and the third catching Koul in the chest. As the last pieces of the shuttle fell to the ground, the only sound that could be heard was the patter of rain.

Don’t take it lying down. You are not as weak as this Stahoes! Pull yourself up and finish him! The voice in his head became his own, still rasping and hissing but less crazed. Do you think that La’venna or this man are going to let you go after this is done? You will be as good as dead. Or worse you will be thrown into a cage or a cell to waste away.

Slow footsteps approached the Corellian, but his body would not respond, acting sluggish even as he tried to pull himself up to an elbow. The Kiffar, holding his side, was painfully making his way toward the Sadowan. Lightning silhouetted the Battlelord as he slowly approached Bentre’s side. One blaster was held out, pointed warningly at the Journeyman lying upon the platform.

“You have made an interesting target today, Stahoes. It’s a real shame we might not get to do this again.” Kneeling down over the Knight, Terran drove the butt of his blaster into the side of the Shadow’s head.

I was weak. I let myself get caught by surprise. Now I will face La’venna. I get to answer for everything. Gods help me. These last few thoughts rushed through Bentre’s head the moment before he lost consciousness.