Seated within the Glorious Jewel of the Hutts, the Winter Palace is situated on a remote island near the planet’s equator. Although blanketed with the pollution from Hutt industry, its location makes the climate hot and humid. Surrounded with trees and vines, it could be considered to be a paradise, even among the barren wasteland of Nal Hutta. Outside of the Winter Palace, a network of sewer pipes transfer the waste from the palace to wherever seems far enough to dump into the oceans surrounding the island. Flora and fauna that have adapted to the Hutt’s environmental changes thrive in the polluted forests surrounding the Winter Palace.

Stepping through its gilded gates, the lavish interior greets your presence with the main audience chamber. Once belonging to the wealth of Jiliac Desilijic Tiron, the gleaming stone of the main aisle leads up to a Hutt’s dais lined with an expensive carpet. Beautiful tapestries line the high walls, telling of the sordid histories of those who woven them, awaiting execution in Jiliac’s dungeons.

Finally, the antechamber to the throne room is illuminated from above with high-skylighted ceilings. Constructed from lightly colored stone, the antechamber might have been where the late Hutt entertained his guests before an audience with spice and exotic dancers. In the hands of the Hutt Kajidics, however, these traditions have continued as the Winter Palace now serves as a front for criminal and business ventures.

Striding through the gilded gates into the main audience chamber, Zakath noticed several smaller antechambers along the sides of this lavish interior. Knowing that his prey was most likely within one of these alcoves, he picked a side and started walking by, looking into each one in turn. Within each niche a different setup was located for different aspects of the businesses that were run from inside these walls. Not having found his prey along one side of the room, the Barabel repeated the process, but on the other side of the room, and again and again he was met with recesses devoid of his prey. He was halfway down the wall when finally came upon a nook that held a bunch of computer consoles lining the exterior wall of the nook. Inside was a lone being typing away on one of the keyboards.

“Took you long enough.” Armad stated without turning around. “Would have thought you would have came directly to this room from the start.”

Zakath stared incredulously at the Umbaran, slightly confused. He griped his lightsaber as he became angry with the Warrior and his disrespectful tone.

Quickly finishing typing his last few commands, Armad unplugged his cypher pad, tucked it into a pocket of his coat and turned to face the Barabel that seemed ready to do violence. “So which one are you from, Clan I mean?” the Warrior asks. Confusion returned to the Barabel’s face as he registered the question.

“Arcona.” Zakath hissed. “And how did you know I waz here?”

Armad grinned and pointed up behind the Battlemaster, to a small recon droid. “It’s been following you since you’ve landed. I figured someone from one of the Clans would eventually find out what I was doing and send someone to investigate, so I scattered my ‘eyes’ around the spaceport to wait for one such as yourself to arrive.”

Looking up at the floating droid, Zakath growled deeply and swung his left arm up towards the droid, activated his lightsaber and sliced it in half. Turning back to face the Umbaran, Zakath growled and pointed his lightsaber at the Warrior, “Cauzed panic that nearly cost honor and position.” The two halves hit the floor to either side of the Barabel. “Had to track down source and deal with it to redeem my failurez.”

Armad barely heard what was being said, he was just staring at the two halves of his droid laying on the floor, sparks randomly flying from the dead shell. Looking up to see a lightsaber pointed at his face, Armad grasped his lightsaber from his belt. The Sadowan had a strong connection with that particular droid, having built it himself. The loss of it angered him, the fires of rage building up inside him and threatened to explode out of him. Harnessing those flames of righteous anger, Armad funnelled it through his left hand and outwards, tendrils of dark side energy coruscating through the air to impact upon the left flank of the Barabel. Lightning splayed across the black scales as Zakath’s head reared back in pain and unleashed a fierce, angry howl that permeated the hall.

The Ragnosian utilised the time given to him, moving forward out of the alcove. This allowed him more room and protected the sensitive equipment from being destroyed. Armad set himself just out of immediate striking range of this large black armored beast. The effect of the lightning faded rather quickly compared to most humanoid beings, the Barabel's physiology and sheer stubbornness aiding it. Taking several deep breaths, Zakath focused upon the one thing that interested him. Killing the upstart Sadowan that had dared to enter his domain. A feral grin covered the Barabel's face as he hissed at the the Umbaran. “That,” the Battlemaster hissed, “was most definitely unwise, Shadowman.”

“Uh oh.” Armad whispered to himself, as the hulking Arconan turned towards the Warrior and started to stalk towards his newest prey. Armad knew it would be a challenge to escape here unscathed, but he had always liked challenges.