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.

Quo waited patiently for the Battlemaster to arrive. He was early, hoping to get a feel for the place before the the sparring began. The sheer opulence of the surroundings meant nothing to young Sith, the trappings of wealth were as uninteresting to him as the ministrations of the lowliest servant. His main reason was to acclimatise to the damp, dank conditions of the arena.

Tasha'Vel had sent him to learn, to expand his skills. Obediently he had arrived at the appointed place. Glancing around he tested his footing on the polished stone of the auditorium

"So glad that you did not waste my time young Knight."

Quo turned to the direction of the speaker. Kneeling on one knee, with head bowed, he showed the due deference to his instructor, "My Master has sent me to learn, Sifu."

"Pleased am I to see that you have obeyed the true forms, your Master has taught you well." The Quarren, clad in his finest battleskin, moved forwards to within a couple of meters of the Zabrak. His eyes were piercing, the deepest azure blue, cool and concentrated. The twin tusks glinted creaminess as they reflected the light from above. Bowing slowly, arms outstretched in the ancient form, gracefully bending from the waist.

Quo had heard many stories of this man, but this was the first time he had actually seen him. He was more slight than he had imagined. The muscle tone, however was athletic, and rippled as his mentor moved. Even the battleskin seemed to ripple and flex with a life of its own. He took in the fluidity of the movement of his teacher, mindful of his own posture as he slowly stood. Facing this teacher that his Master had employed to expand his knowledge Quo knew that he was in for a hard time.

The tentacles of the warrior opposite moved as he spoke, it was almost hypnotic to watch. "You have learned many things young one, but you must complete them in due form," a hand stroking his beard like tendrils as he eyed Quo, watching him for signs of........ well, Quo didn't know what, "You must prepare in the correct manner, otherwise all else is as nothing. Now we shall see what you know"

His long and orange tentacles sliding across moisturised claws, Lexiconus Qor slowly assessed the Zabrak to understand his potential. Qor’s cerulean eyes glanced at the Knight’s hands as one appeared to be ebony, the other metallic. It wasn’t uncommon for cybernetics to be used, but it wasn’t a tool the Battlemaster admired.

“Lost your arm in battle?” Qor said.

“A Charnoq took it.” The Zabrak continued to look down, while the Quarren carefully stroked his tentacles more and paced.

“Did you avenge yourself?” Qor watched at Quo slowly raised his head and locked onto his eyes with a deadly stare. His ivory fangs began to snarl and peel back as the Battlemaster’s impatience grew thin.

“I.” Quo was cut short when his mechanical arm launched into the sky, as Qor gripped it tightly with the Dark Side. Pistons bursting and circuitry sparking violently from the arm, it began to crush and contort out of shape. Expressing shock and confusion, Quo tried his best to swing and yank his body away but he hissed in pain each time.

“Technology is a tool, dispensable and useless when damaged. Never rely on the tools of men, but of the tools of yourself.” Qor said with authority, his voice blaring out like an intercom. The Battlemaster released his tension on the cybernetic arm and Quo collapsed onto the floor, going into a heavy pant.

“I haven’t attacked you yet and you’re sweating like a Gamorrean. Control yourself before you lose yourself. Stay calm, relaxed and focused, then strike while the prey is coming.” The Quarren lectured on, he wanted to help the Zabrak to become a useful warrior for Tasha. But from what the Quarren was seeing, this student had already seen one too many wars. He didn’t need to see the breathing apparatus, the inhalation valves were quite loud.

“You would have died if someone hit your breath mask. I have no doubt that would have stopped you in your tracks. But you are in luck.” The Battlemaster grabbed the slimy hilt of his lightsaber, which unravelled itself from his waistcloth and reattached to his wrist. He ignited the silver blade and raised it above his head.

“I will turn your weaknesses into strengths. Give me your best, Niman user.” The Quarren smirked coldly, as his tentacles reeled back and stiffened around his neck. Qor hadn’t seen Niman in a long time, this would be fun.

Standing slowly Quo's lightsaber leapt from his right hip to his left hand, igniting as his fingers lightly rounded the hilt. He angled his body, right side towards the Quarren, right foot presented forwards of his left. Knowing the his right arm was just dead weight it would only be useful as a shield. His saber was angled away from the coming attack. Quo's eyes never left his instructor, his reflexes may be his only saviour, and any clues he could glean from his attacker may well save his life.

Qor's blade swung in a powerful parabola towards the wounded Zabrak. The two handed grip adding force and aggression to the strike. Quo had seen the move coming, his feet dancing to the right. His blade arched forwards to meet the incoming swing, not intending to block it, merely to deflect it outwards, away from his body. The crash and crackle from the glancing blow resounded around the arena. Dancing away and around the body of the Quarren. Without breaking his movement Quo continued the momentum of the blade contact to bounce his own blade around in his hand, reversing the grip. Pirouetting on the ball of his left foot his blade described a short circle, tightening in radius as he struck backwards towards the exposed rear leg of Qor. A snarl escaped the warrior as Quo's blade took a bite into the Achilles of the Quarren.

Sliding his stance backwards, the Zabrak saw his opponent reel. One all, thought Quo. Without hesitating his hand flew forwards, three fingers extended, a barrage of lightning erupting from his fingertips striking the Quarren, throwing him forwards with the onslaught.

Before the Quarren could regroup Quo calmed himself, melting into the background. Time for a little game of hide and seek. Moving silently he watched Qor attempt to locate him. It is hard to hit a target that you cannot see. Quo bided his time, waiting for his moment.

Deactivating his lightsaber in order to continue the mood of stealth, Lexiconus Qor slowly paced across the carpet as his eyes steeled at the expensive Hutt banners and hanging masterpieces. The Quarren took this time to concentrate on the agonising cut from his heel, by kneeling down and placing a palm on the bloody wound. The wound seemed minimal, barely subdermal, but he could take care of it later. Qor rose once again as he heard the shuffling of feet and the wind behind banners .

“Yes, use your strengths as a Shadow in the night, become the darkness and unpredictable. It is your natural tool, be the night.” The Quarren whispered out, he knew Quo could hear him as it wasn’t difficult to detect the Knight’s whereabouts. It took a lot of concentration to keep his cloak for this long, using the Dark Side to conceal his Force sensitivity would be too much. But that didn’t stop Quo from trying.

“Don’t overexert yourself, if you need to multi-task then alternating their uses is the best choice. Now, you must come out of hiding for the Dark Side to conceal you. So let your anger flow!” The Quarren felt the Zabrak’s anger surge from the darkness, as he launch himself from behind a pillar. Igniting their blades and meeting into a cross-guard, Qor and Quo fought for supremacy in their lock. A showering of cinders and silver light almost blinded the duo. His expression cold and uncaring, the Quarren shook and panted while his grip on the hilt became weaker and painful. The Zabrak struggled against the might of his foe and was eventually pushed aside by the strength of Qor. The Quarren wasted no time and delivered thrashing blows and counter attacks against Quo’s twists and blocks. Sweating heavily and shaking at the shoulders, the Zabrak was struggling to keep up. Qor gave no mercy, whacking Quo’s lightsaber with an insane attitude, the Knight’s lightsaber was effortlessly struck aside. Deactivating into the air, the lightsaber hilt slammed against a nearby wall and disappeared into the shadows. While Quo looked into the sapphire eyes of his crazed mentor, the Quarren’s blade met with Quo’s neck.

“Your attempt was admirable, but never be so stubborn to enter a direct fight with someone stronger and wiser. Make surprising moves, be unorthodox and above all, use the Force to aid you. Not them.” Qor sheathed his lightsaber back into his waistcloth, but the Zabrak was not done. Unsheathing a throwing dagger, Quo immediately lunged at the Quarren who caught sight of it and jabbed the Zabrak’s fist backwards. Contorting his arm into a painful shape, Qor forced Quo’s arm into an agonising position as he bent the Zabrak’s fingers back. The Battlemaster took the dagger, gripped it tightly and stabbed into the Knight’s palm. With a blood-curdling scream, Quo fell onto his knees in submission and plea.

“You have failed in your training, young one. Gone are the days we backstab our mentors. If you wish to live in those times, I will gladly send you back there.” Quo hissed as he tried to gather his breath again and shook his head.

“No sir! I remain loyal to the Brotherhood!” The Knight pleaded out, in an attempt to save his life from extinction. This was a good enough life lesson for Qor to give and released Quo.

“Go! And you can tell Tasha why you have a dagger in your hand, or I will!” The Zabrak wasted no time and ran out of the antechamber.