You stand in a room, nearly dark but for the pulse of rhythmic flashes of bright colored lights. Besides your opponent and yourself, you note a large number of bystanders who are sure to take exception to the coming carnage. Then again, knowing this crowd, they could just as easily find entertainment in an old-fashioned brawl. Spanky's is, after all, one of the more fashionable drinking establishments of Karufr.

The patrons seem to be a mix between the scantily clad women hawking their charms and the well-dressed gentlemen eager to part with their hard-earned credits. The odors in the tavern assault your senses and threaten to muddle your reflexes. Among them, you recognize over a dozen various types of stimulants—both legal and illegal—and the heady scent of, what is quite possibly, the most varied collection of liquor this side of the Galaxy.

The tavern itself is fraught with tactical advantages and disadvantages. Designed in the familiar style of all amphitheaters, the floor is slightly slanted toward a central stage where a lithe, twi'lek female is currently dancing. Littered amongst the floor are drink tables, heavily laden with glassware and other potential missiles. Uncomfortable, heavy metal chairs surround each of the tables in a semi-circle, so that the occupant's view of the stage is never hindered. The only exit, aside from the doorway where you stand, is a vaulted staircase—guarded by two very well-dressed, and heavily muscled, gentlemen—leading into parts unknown.

Small bars bracket the tavern on either side, filled with a glittering rainbow of bottles. Whatever is about to go down, you realize it would go down better with a stiff drink.

The stench of leather, sweat and alcohol permeated the Warden's senses, bringing back old memories of his time in Arcona. There, he had spent several days at a time in the local cantina, drinking his life away as the Entar bemoaned his actions, the general unfairness of life and his failure to save other people's lives. Sanguinius shook his head to clear his mind, his reverie broken as the Jedi remembered why he was here. Here was here to test and educate, not mope around.

The Sentinel scanned the crowd, his eyes taking in the surroundings. A rather noisy group of beings were cheering on two rather large aliens, one a tattooed Zabrak and the other a large Houk, who laughed derisively at his opponent's attempt to beat him in a contest of strength. The two men strained, their muscles tensed and beads of sweat collecting on their brows.

With a surprised grunt, the Houk's laughter subsided, the look of glee on his face turning to one of momentary surprise and fear. His hand was forced backwards, yet the Houk refused to give up, he slammed the table with his other hand and contemptuously roared in anger at the Zabrak.

Sanguinius moved to a more advantageous spot, allowing himself to watch the contest of strength. The Jedi watched the Zabrak slam the Houk's fist against the table. The Iridonian raised his arms in triumph and cheered himself, while the onlookers cried out in anger and happiness, depending on who they had bet on.

Too many bar fights had happened in the Entar's life for the next event to be a surprise. The enraged Houk lashed out with a large right hook, aiming to put the Zabrak down. The tattooed being leaned backwards, allowing the fist to pass by and smash into one of the onlookers. The Rodian fell like he was pole-axed. The onlookers collectively gasped before erupting into a full blown fist fight.

The Zabrak extricated himself from the brawl, easily dodging strikes and fighting back, landing strikes on his opponents' weak points and overpowering them. The raging inferno within the Zabrak radiated clearly to Sanguinius, who frowned with disappointment. The Quaestor had found his erstwhile student, the Ragnosian Journeyman who had disappeared on some debauched adventure. The Entar was here to assess the Hunter, to see if he was ready to be Knighted. Sanguinius had raised many to Knighthood, both as a Quaestor and as a Professor, it was time for Aexod to be tested.

Sanguinius shrugged off his tan cloak and launched himself into the brawl as the two burly bouncers joined the fray, the experienced strongmen cracking heads together in an attempt to restore order. The Sentinel simply avoided them as they came near him, sidestepping their grasping arms and moved towards the vicious Zabrak, using a tipped over table as a stepping stone to launch himself into the air at the Hunter.

Aexod dropped the scruffy human he was holding by the neck and span around, unleashed a series of snap kicks that stopped Sanguinius' attacks and turned into a flurry of strikes that allowed the two men to test the other's defence. The Professor studied the strikes, his mind working calmly on the next three to five attacks, as if he was doing nothing more than playing a game of dejarik while relaxing with friends.

One word punctuated the exchange as the two men parted, their chests heaving from the exertions of physical combat, “Good....”

The surrounding brawl had now encompassed the entire cantina and had either drawn in every patron or sent them running for the exit. The two bouncers had their hands full with the enraged Houk from earlier while the barman smashed a bottle of fine chandrilian whiskey over the head of some poor unfortunate Klatoonian.

The Professor unclipped his well used saber hilt from his belt and activated it, the pure green beam of plasma drew the attention of every person with Spanky's. Aexod crouched, barely containing himself from leaping towards the human.

Sanguinius stood firm, a beacon of calm in the raging torrent of emotion that rampaged through Spanky's. “Time to see how well your master trained you, Burgoo.”

"It couldn't wait till I got back to Sepros, could it?" Aexod smirked, looking at his Quaestor, obviously annoyed at the interruption. He was anxious to prove his strength and long overdue chance for Knighthood, but didn’t think this was neither the time, or the place for it. "As you can see, I'm in the middle of something."

As he was speaking, a sturdy looking trandoshan took a swing aimed directly at Aexod's head, which he easily avoided, not even having to break eye contact with Sanguinius.

"Besides, I don't think this is a suitable place for a Jedi like yourself"

"I see Darkblade hasn't taught you manners," the Warden answered, playing along with Aexod's mind games. So many young enthusiasts have passed through his hands, yet their behavior never changes. Each and every one of them was overly confident, counting on their past successes and fast progression through the ranks.

"I see you like toying around with your students. Ever thought of picking fights with someone that could actually harm you, or is venting your frustrations on Journeymen your fetish?"

“You do know that I have a big influence on your promotions, don’t you? If you want to keep up the uncalled-for bickering, I’m ready for it, but don’t count on it getting you too far,” the Defender said, keeping as calm as ever.

At this point, Aexod knew that his words weren’t getting to the Jedi. He had to prove himself in actual combat, something that wasn’t going to be easy against his Quaestor. An idea popped into his head, a long shot, but something nonetheless. He stepped sideways, toward a couple of humans fistfighting eachother, grabbed one of them by his shirt, and, tapping into the Force, summoned the strength to toss him in the direction of the Jedi.

Sanguinius, more concerned about the bystander getting hurt than himself, was caught off-guard. His lightsaber was still active, and with a body flying toward him, he had to react quickly. He pressed the button, deactivating his lightsaber, and concentrated on the Force to slow down the movement of the human that was about to hit him directly in the chest.

“What the…” he said, looking in Aexod’s direction, only to find the spot his Ragnosian previously occupied emptied. He closed his eyes, using the Force to look for any sort of disturbance in the area. With a snap-hiss, he ignited his lightsaber yet again, stepping backwards and directing the blade to his left, just as the Hunter reappeared, igniting his own saber and thrusting toward his superior. His perfect timing was enough to parry the attack, and with a swift strike, he moved his opponent’s lightsaber out of the way before using the Force to send a telekinetic blast that hit Aexod flat in the chest, sending him flying a few yards back.

“Excellent, innovative, and you use your head instead of blindly charging at me.” Sang said, a smile appearing on his face. “Now get up and do it again.”

Sanguinius stood, waiting for the brash Zabrak to attack him once again. The Quaestor had tested many Knights to be in his time, judging them to be of value to the Brotherhood. Aexod had potential, if only he continued to use his intellect and not allow his rage to consume him like so many Sith did.

The Anaxsi stepped backwards, his lightsaber darting out in a succession of quick blows as the Iridonian assaulted him, the well used armoury saber smashing against the Equite's stalwart defence. The Hunter tested Sanguinius not, the Sentinel having faced tougher enemies.

The attacks slowed as Aexod wore himself out against the unbreakable wall of Sanguinius' deflective parries. The number of patrons in Spanky's thinned as one by one they were knocked out or beaten down by the two hefty bouncers or their fellow patrons. The barman ducked behind the bar as a lithe Bothan was tossed against the back of the bar, smashing bottles.

The bouncer who threw the Bothan swore as he realised the financial damage he had just done would come out of his pay check. He turned to face the two Sadowans and charged in, grabbing a broken chair leg to use as he moved forward.

Sanguinius saw the strongman coming behind Aexod, even as the Zabrak continued to wearily attack the Warden. The Anaxsi's free hand shot out to grasp the shirt of the Hunter and whirled him around out of the way. Sanguinius' move put him in the striking path of the oncoming improvised club. He turned into the attack, taking the blow on his right shoulder.

The chair leg smashed against the shoulder, splintering and sending the bouncer staggering backwards in surprise. The Jedi pursed his lips in minor annoyance at the blow before quickly clamping down on the emotion. He brushed his robe, clearing it off the flecks of wood that remained upon it.

“But how,” uttered the burly human, gazing in awe at Sanguinius.

Sang pointed to the offending shoulder, “Bionic.....”

“Oh....”

“Now, if you don't mind, I have a lesson to finish.” the Sentinel admonished the bouncer.

“Of course, please...” the human backed away, his palms facing Sang in supplication.

The Jedi turned back to the clearly exhausted Zabrak. “The lesson continues, padawan.” the epithet was one Sanguinius gave to all Journeymen under his care.

Aexod snarled in defiance, his anger and hatred at himself for not being strong enough fuelled him, it leant him energy that he could use. The Shadow barrelled forward, his blade lashing out in fierce strikes. Sanguinius parried several attacks before counter attacking. His lightsaber whirling around to push the Ragnosian back. Sang pushed Aexod backwards, his jade green blade seeking to disarm his opponent.

Sanguinius would end this now, before anyone from Taldryan responded to the brawl in their favourite watering hole. The Jedi focused on the reservoir of power within him, projecting it outwards in a wave that blanketed the area surrounding him. The wave sapped Aexod's strength, making him drop to one knee.

The Quaestor loomed over the Zabrak, a figure of authority to the rebellious Journeyman. Aexod lashed out one last time with his lightsaber. Sanguinius' free hand seized Aexod's and wrenched it down to smash into the floor. Pain jolted through the Shadow's arm, but he refused to let go of his armoury saber. His stubbornness and the fact that his master had drilled the idea that he must never part with his lightsaber deep into his subconscious allowed him to overcome the pain. Sanguinius slammed Aexod's hand down again, before clobbering the Hunter around the head with his swiftly deactivated lightsaber hilt.

The rage fuelled Zabrak was too deadly to the civilians to leave armed, for Sanguinius wished to avoid any more bloodshed. “Desist, padawan,” Sang ordered, his voice iron. “You have lost.”

Aexod spat at the Jedi, “I will never lose.”

The Sentinel smiled, despite his concern. He believed Aexod was worthy of Knighthood. Not because the Hunter won, but because he refused to give in, even when the odds were completely against him.

“Good,” Sanguinius released Aexod's hand and stepped backwards, offering an outstretched hand to the kneeling Shadow, the wave of dampening energy ceased as Sanguinius considered the fight over. “I judge you worthy of Knighthood, Aexod.”

The words reached the Hunter through his fugue state and revitalised him enough to grasp the offered hand. Aexod rose to face the Sentinel, his face thunderous. “I will defeat you one day, Jedi...”

Sanguinius smiled magnanimously and outstretched his hands. “I look forward to that day, padawan, but for now?” The Quaestor glanced around the wrecked bar and the bouncers who studiously ignored the pair of Sadowans. “For now I suggest getting out of here before Taldryan turns up and finds someone to blame for all this mess.”

He's just toying with me," Aexod thought, aggravated at his Quaestor. *What does he expect? I've only been here for a couple of months!

The Hunter stood up, pain vibrating through his ribs. Sanguinius' praise meant little to him, as he was still fighting a losing battle, something he can't say has happened too often so far in his life. He was angry. Angry at himself for not being stronger, angry at the Jedi for making a fool of him, angry at his Master for holding him back. The pain subsided as he absorbed all his rage, which boosted his concentration.

"There is no emotion, there is only peace" the Warden said, citing the Jedi code.

Typical Jedi gibberish, the Zabrak thought, his anger still piling up. Why these treehuggers were ever accepted by the Brotherhood is beyond me. They are not worthy!

Aexod let his anger drive his movement toward the Human as he took the offensive. He made a couple of quick slashes at Sang, which the Warden blocked with the ease of a practiced swordsman. He tried an overhead chop, but was denied yet again. The Quaestor seemed as if he was holding back, keeping on the defensive even though he had multiple opportunities to strike back.

"You have nice saber skills for one with so little training," the Entar said, not realizing his words were only causing the Iridonian to be even angrier. "But you focus on your anger, the trait of a true Sith. So long as you do not realize why that is wrong, you will not be able to defeat me."

"I don't need counseling from a Jedi," Aexod replied. "Your philanthropic views make you weak. Weak enough that you cannot defeat me either!"

"Killing is not the only way to defeat an opponent," Sanguinius said with a concentrated look on his face. "Your anger drives you, brings you closer to the Force, but it also makes you weak."

Aexod suddenly felt completely empty. He couldn't feel the Force, which he got so used to that he didn't know how to act without. He was just an ordinary Zabrak, holding the armory lightsaber in his hand, not knowing how to use it. He was completely paralyzed.

"Is your anger helping you now?" Tsucyra continued in a monotonous voice, keeping his focus on his fellow Ragnosian. "I cannot make you understand if you do not want to listen. The Force is a powerful ally, but without it, what is a Sith left with? Anger? Hate? Suffering? Is this really the path you wish to walk for the rest of your life?"

Aexod's emotions subsided. His Quaestor was right, and the emptiness he felt was exactly the thing he needed to realize that. He deactivated his lightsaber, and looked at the Warrior. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Sir."

"No, the fact that you have begun to realize your mistakes does not disappoint me, it pleases me. I believe now that you are truly ready for Knighthood. Let's just hope I'm not mistaken," Sanguinius said, deactivating his own lightsaber and extending his free arm to the Zabrak, who extended his own, shaking his superior's hand in another moment he has never felt before in his life: Peace.