The natives see it as an obstacle to their lifestyle, whilst outsiders perceive it as a diamond in the rough. Regardless of the opinion, Menat Ombo is the most technological settlement on New Tython. Crammed with tall and slim towers, alleys and market squares have randomly developed where the necessary room is. You might turn a corner and see a vendor selling smoked meat from the indigenous animals, and the next corner could be a home. The merchant stalls are almost always temporary, folding easily with several clippings or a really good show of strength. Above the awnings of the stalls, buildings of various shapes and sizes crafted of sand and stone and earth create a set of interconnecting rooftops in some parts with wide gaps in the others.

It is easy to get lost in the crowds of people. As you leave the central market, countless alleys splinter out and lead to quieter sections of the city. The streets are kept tidly by maintenance droids. and the air is clean. At night, the city and marketplace are well lit, and the lights from the scattered inns create a welcoming ambiance to the twilight air.

The Pau’an was still blindfolded. A bruising grip high on his arm pushed him forward. After days of intermittent periods of unconsciousness and sensory deprivation, Korroth did not know what to expect from his captors. He had heard rumours of the procedures that the Ascendant Legion exacted on its slave troopers, the biochemical conditioning and mind-altering operations. Throughout his detention in the Plagueis station he had been near-insensate, he could not tell how he would come out of this.

The Jedi began feeling a breeze on his cheeks, sunlight on his grey skin, the noise of a crowd all around him. Suddenly his blindfold was jerked off. At first all he could see was one of the hulking armoured Legion Ravagers in front of him, then he disappeared. His senses were hit from all sides. The flood of light, the bright canvas of the awnings, the gaudy cloths of the pedestrians, the chatter of the throng, the shouts of the vendors, the tang of spices and smoking food. It was abrupt and dissonant; only with some effort did it coalesce into a coherent image.

The Visulu Market. Menat Ombo. It cannot be. It no longer existed. But here it was, all around him. The Pau’an spun about, but there were no Legion troopers, no ships blotting the clear sky. He felt dizzy for a moment. When he turned back around, he felt something wet and cold slap in his upraised hands.

“‘ere ya go, sir. ‘ave an eyeful of that.” A man with a stained apron was yelling in his face. “Fresh from the Sabina, this is!”

Korroth looked down and saw that he indeed held a shiny-eyed fish in his own hands. The feel of the slimy creature was enough to ground him momentarily. He calmed his racing mind and extended it outwards. The passer-bys were like little flames in the Force, each flickering with its own thoughts and intentions. They were real, as valid as his own existence. How can this - but there was something else. A presence that stood apart, keener, more focused.

“Three an’ eighty, sir. Gotta get ‘em while they’re fresh and juicy!”

“Oh, please.” Korroth pushed the fish back onto the fishmonger. He wiped his hands on his kaftan, then he felt for his belt. To his surprise and relief, his palm met the cool metal of his lightsaber. Letting the swells of its crystal wash over his mind, the Jedi once again reached out in the Force, through the crowd, to the entrance of a narrow alley. There he felt that sharp presence once more.

Despite perceiving only inflexible enmity from the figure, the Jedi pushed his way towards it through the crowd. It was his only rope in this storm of impossibilities. He saw her through the criss-cross of Mon-Calamari, humans and Harakoans. Her pale face stood out against her dark hair. Her green eyes were fixed on him, it felt like she had pinned him down since the beginning. There was no mistaking the contempt in that look. Korroth unclipped his lightsaber and approached her to within earshot.

“Mendes.” The demon of the fields of Florrum. Korroth had seen many Odanites subjugated at the tip of her saber, many undesirables destroyed at her command. “The conflict is over. What trickery is this?”

“The power of Plagueis is no trick,” she replied, saber hilt in hand. The two opponents’ weapons ignited simultaneously, yellow and green. Kelly moved forward through the dispersing crowd. “I shall demonstrate.”

The people in the market had already cleared a wide corridor between the two lightsaber wielders, but they were not hanging around. The word spread quickly through the stalls and shopfronts. Korroth felt the fear and agitation ripple outwards from the epicenter, driving the throng out of the plaza and into the streets and alleys.

The Mystic was advancing towards Korroth. Her eyes seemed focused on the Pau’an, but Korroth could feel that her attention spanned the entirety of her surroundings. The Jedi stepped in for a preemptive strike, hoping to cut short any strategies she might be formulating in her mind. He lunged, blade-point high, then snapped his weapon downwards to Kelly’s boot.

The Dark Jedi was quick to react. Her yellow blade battered the Pau’an’s lightsaber to the ground, while she swiveled into Korroth. She brought her saber to bear on the Jedi’s other side, forcing him to block and back away, bumping his hip on the edge of a stall.

Taking advantage of her opponent’s constricted freedom of movement, Kelly raised her blade for another strike.

Kelly brought her blade down swiftly, hoping to end the battle quickly, but failed. Korroth made a slight movement to avoid being hit. His movement was still limited, though to a lesser extent now. The Jedi pounced, quickly pushing his opponent back without touching her, his hand stopping inches short of her chest. The Plagueian soared through the air like a hawkbat before coming to land on her back several meters from where she had stood previously. The Pau’an took this time to retrieve his own lightsaber; to even the odds so to speak. Korroth noticed that his opponent held her weapon in an unconventional manner and as he covered the sand of New Tython he wondered how he could be stood here, given what the Grand Master had done. It looked like nothing had happened yet he knew otherwise. Plagueis were playing some kind of trick on him, he knew. He just didn’t know how.

The Mystic reached her feet before the Peacekeeper could reach her. Angry, she attempted to find weaknesses in her opponent’s guard, yet it was clear Korroth was as equally skilled as she was in wielding a lightsaber. The plan was working. The Odanite was disoriented by their apparent surroundings, just as the Dread Lord had predicted. The times Plagueis would have to suffer in the presence of the light would see the beginning of the end at her hand. The impurity would be destroyed and a darker Brotherhood would emerge. Blades clashed with fierce intensity and frequency. It was a sight to behold but there was nobody to witness the contest as the locals had fled as they had been instructed. Of course they weren’t real, but at least the Jedi didn’t know it yet.

Korroth backed away; a strategic decision as he could see that he was beginning to tire after the intense skirmish. He took the time to hold his hand over the injuries he had obtained at the beginning of the bout. Within a minute he was ready to re-engage and it was a good thing as the demon of Florrum advanced towards him. She craved his death or submission but she would get neither, the Pau’an knew he couldn’t lose or else become a powerful propaganda victory for the Ascendant Clan. Green swung up as yellow crashed down, the blades met again like enemies who take pleasure in bumping into each other on the battlefield. Of course that is where the pair first met; it was the beginning of a one-sided hatred. The Odanite knew he couldn’t give in to emotion and had to remain unwavering in his principles.

“You aren’t the first and you won’t be the last,” Mendes sneered “Remember Traund from Florrum? He had the dubious honour of being my first victim, how was he when he got back to you?” Laughing merrily as she remembered her previous encounter with a representative of Odan-Urr, she was unprepared for the barrage of strikes the taller combatant attempted. Hastily backtracking, she would need something quick to turn the tide of the encounter.Almost naturally, she swung her right hand backwards and with no notice she forced it forwards, releasing an unseen force into the Jedi which propelled him back a few meters, though he flipped backwards to land on his feet. Kelly turned her back to him and began walking away. This wasn’t as much of a test as she had been promised; besides there was an alley a matter of yards from her that could provide an advantage. The Pau’an was confused by the actions of his foe and followed her, slow enough to not be within reach of a lightsaber strike yet quick enough to not lose sight of her.

“Do you know what I’ll do to you Jedi? I’ll make you wish you died the moment we first met. Once you’re dead I’ll keep your weapon and Odan-Urr get to cry and be mad about your death.” Korroth withstood the mocking words of the Dark Jedi, he couldn’t let her get to him. He thought about responding but knew that’s what Kelly wanted. The Force would guide him to victory, of this he was sure. He didn’t know how long it would take but he knew the outcome.

The Dark Jedi swung her left arm to the side, then backwards hoping to hit Korroth with her lightsaber. The Jedi however, had remained out of reach, forcing the Plagueian to spin elegantly around the corner and stand face to face with the enemy. So far Kelly had plenty of opportunities to study Korroth and she came to the conclusion that she had a significant advantage in physical power and a slight advantage when it came to manoeuvrability. Their lightsaber technique was roughly even, though if Kelly could use the environment to her advantage things could swing in her favour. The two combatants advanced towards each other with pace but there was a peace in the Odanite that Kelly did not know. The Dark Jedi clenched her right hand into a fist, slowly drew it back and then slammed it forward as she opened her hand once more to unleash a dark energy much like an electrical discharge from her fingertips. Korroth was only slightly harmed as his blade caught most of the energy while some had snuck through his guard and crashed into his stomach. He stumbled back slightly as they both contemplated their next move.

The Jedi brought a hand to his midriff; a residual spasm cramped his abdomen. In the aftermath of the electric shock his heartbeat gradually returned to normal, and all that remained was a faint muscular ache. The dust on the cobblestones crunched under the sole of the Pau’an’s foot; this and the hum of the two lightsabers were the only sounds in the vicinity. Though there was a thin strip of blue sky up above, the height of the buildings cast the narrow alley in near-shadow.

The various emporiums and workshops were undeterred by the confined space, they still had counters and wares displayed outside. One stand was stacked with cuts of succulent meat, another, lit yellow by the Mystic’s saber, had crates of sweet-smelling fruit. A little farther on, Korroth could see sacks, piles and pyramids of spices and herbs. Of course, at the moment the shopfronts seemed deserted, but the Peacekeeper thought he could perceive the echoes of fear and alarm from several residents hiding in backrooms or the upper storeys.

“You must know, Jedi,” the Plagueian called out, her reversed blade still raised in front of her forearm. “No matter which one of us prevails, the Dread Lord’s fleet will lay waste to this pit of depravity.”

This is madness, Korroth thought to himself. Why would Plagueis bomb a place that does not exist. But his clean logic was being bombarded every second by his own senses. He could see, hear, touch no chink in the fabric of the reality around him. If this was all a delusion, it could not arise from without, it stemmed from a malaise of his own mind. But, surely, the Force could not lie. The city was present in the Force, and so were its inhabitants. Korroth felt the ripples of their individual minds as surely as the brush of the cool current passing through the alley.

“If I die,” Kelly continued. “The Ascendant Fleet will be on this town like the vengeance of the Zillo beast. If you die, well.” A grin appeared on the human’s face. “I will have the pleasure of watching the degenerate creatures of Menat Ombo burn.”

Korroth shut his mind to doubt and raised his blade above his head. Whatever it was the Plagueians had done to him, the Force had placed this opponent in his path, this demon girded in hate. The Jedi could not stint in his duty to the Force. He gripped the saber hilt with both hands, ground the balls of his feet into the ground, bent his knees and leaped forward. The emerald blade bore down on Kelly, but the Dark Jedi was that bit faster. She let the attack slide down her own blade, having moved herself to the side, until she was actually pushing Korroth’s weapon further into the momentum of its swing.

The Pau’an, almost thrown off-balance, slammed his left foot forwards, halting the motion that he had expected would have ended on the Krath’s blocking blade. He jerked his right elbow back and brought his lightsaber into a tight swing at Kelly’s stomach. She parried the attack, but it gave Korroth time to step back and block the Mystic’s riposte. The Jedi stamped his leading foot and raised his lightsaber as if for another high attack, but then he stopped abruptly, made another sharp step back, without following through with the strike. Kelly twitched, the onset of a response, but, as Korroth suspected, she held her guard in the face of his feint. This Dark Jedi fed on her opponent’s aggression, Korroth confirmed to himself, she used the Jedi’s own energy against him, goaded him into fully committing himself to a strike, so she could reclaim it for the Jedi’s own demise.

The Peacekeeper brought his lightsaber down on the Dark Jedi’s head, but changed direction to strike at her left elbow. The two blades had barely touched that the green one snapped back to strike on the other side. Kelly stepped sideways and attempted to catch the Jedi’s blade, to divert it downwards, but an unnatural burst of celerity brought the green lightsaber back around to the left, aiming low for the Mystic’s shins. Kelly leaped up, the blade passed under her feet and she vaulted backwards onto a fruit stand. In her landing motion the human deliberately kicked out a meiloorun.

The Pau’an brought his saber up and sliced the juicy projectile in half, but another overripe fruit struck his chin and burst, so that a sweet, acetous, fermented odour suddenly assaulted his nose and mouth. Korroth took a step back and spat out. An Oku fruit, raised into the air of its own volition, soared straight for him, he battered it away with the hilt of his saber. The Plagueian lifted her left hand, and up flew a crate of tuanulberries. They pattered all over the Pau’an’s face and kaftan, harmless, but evidently enough to take his attention from the jogan fruit hurtling towards his head. Suddenly the purple fruit exploded in mid-air, a yellow beam of concentrated light appeared through the juice and pieces of pulp. But Korroth’s shoulder and back muscles had already begun to involuntarily contract. In a precognitive spasm of the Force, the Peacekeeper twisted backwards, letting the Mystic’s blade pass inches above his long nose.

The Pau’an continued in his motion, slapping a hand down on the pavement and going into a roll. He returned to an upright position and saw the Dark Jedi leap at him with an overhead strike. If it wasn’t that he raised his weapon with a firm two-handed grip and caught Kelly’s blade close to his own hilt, the power of the blow would surely have knocked the Jedi’s lightsaber out of his hands. The Plagueian wheeled to the side and swiped at her opponent again. The two duelists initiated an ebb and flow of clashing lightsabers. Korroth would drive a cascade of attacks against Kelly. The Dark Jedi would whirl and swivel around each strike, drawing it out and exploiting every over-extension.

With every strike the Jedi was forced to pull back, to expend energy on recovering balance rather than flowing into another attack. He huffed at every thrust, his jagged teeth bared, his dry throat burning from the strain. He could not allow this to drag on. He swung low, pushing into Kelly. The Dark Jedi saw an opening and, stepping aside to the left, struck out at Korroth’s shoulder. But the Pau’an had deactivated his lightsaber and had interposed his left arm in between Kelly’s own. He bent towards the ground and, using their conjoined forward momentum, rolled onto his back and hauled the human over him. The acrobatic Dark Jedi would have followed the movement through, if it wasn’t for the counter full of spices into which she crashed.

The stall went up in a dense cloud of coloured powders, though Korroth distinctly saw a blue bubble flash around the human’s face. The Jedi rose to one knee and raised his re-ignited green blade. The figure of the Dark Jedi, her black robes stained yellow and orange, suddenly twisted round. Her closed fist snapped open and a plume of red spice blew straight into the Pau’an’s black eyes. He fell back, crying out. Initially it was just the grating of the grains between his eyes and blinking eyelids, but then the burning, searing pain set in. He had the presence of mind to raise his blade in front of him, but all he could see was a hazed jet of green light. A dark shape moved over him, a pale face, a flash of yellow. The bleeding green light went up to meet it, but the golden blur swung round the other side and drove into the Pau’an’s midriff.

The Jedi dropped his de-ignited lightsaber, and the yellow flash disappeared as well. Lying on his back, his face contorted, trying not to blink again, Korroth could see the pale face, then the thin strip of blue sky above it. All the rest was dark.

“Do you see, Jedi.” The female voice cut through the pain in the Pau’an’s abdomen and in his eyes. “Do you see what suffering your failure will bring. Those you protected will fall. Those you loved will scream and burn, and they will curse you for your weakness.”

The Plagueian’s face drained into the darkness, even as she spoke, and so too did the strip of sky. Soon the pain followed suit, and even the ground beneath the Pau’an’s back. All that remained was Kelly’s countenance bent over him, her true face, her blaze of hate, her flames of ambition, her embers of contempt. Korroth’s waning consciousness could only marvel at the beauty of the Force, its raw manifestations and the universal forms from which they sprang. In the end, all the Dark Jedi had done was strip the false, the perishing, and unveiled the one eternal truth. A grey, clawed hand reached up and clutched the lapels of Kelly’s robes.

“Thank you.” The Pau’an croaked.

Kelly jerked back, swiping the hand off of her and re-activating her lightsaber. But the vitality had entirely dissipated from the body of this delusional Jedi. His last breath and words disappeared, discarded and burned to ash in the Dark Jedi’s contempt. She rose to her feet, brushing spice off her robes. If this Jedi died with a smile on his face, then she would be sure to bring satisfaction to many more of his friends.

Staggered by the dark energy, Korroth held his left hand over the spot where the damage had been done. Making use of supernatural forces he appeared to recover quickly. The vanquisher of undesirables shut off her lightsaber, trusting in her reflexes to be able to re-ignite the weapon should she need to. Korroth thought this unusual for someone who had earned a reputation among the Odanites as a fierce warrior who took the utmost care to finish her Jedi opponent. Was he special in some way? He didn’t want to find out. He couldn’t afford to end this confrontation without emerging as the victor, his duty to his fellow Jedi forbade it.

“You know you can’t win Mendes, surrender now and we shall show leniency at your trial.” Korroth didn’t really think there would be a trial. Even Jedi could be pushed to extreme actions. Though with the images of war seared into the minds of Plagueians and Odanites alike, there was no such thing as too extreme. His opponent cackled, much like one would expect the Witches of Dathomir did. As the Peacekeeper advanced towards his target he saw a fountain of yellow energy burst from the weapon of the Mystic that stood before him. He still hadn’t shaken the thought of something being out of place, besides the Dark Jedi of course. New Tython was destroyed, or as good as. The leadership of Odan-Urr had said so themselves and they were honest enough. Yet here he stood, on New Tython and there was no sign of the destruction the Grand Master had brought upon the location for the bastion of light against the darkness.

All the sand around them gave Kelly an idea she should have thought of earlier on. The very sand they had been walking across could provide an advantage to her at this stage of the confrontation. Unfortunately, while she had been pondering her use of sand the Jedi had closed the distance and now green and yellow collided once more. This time however, Korroth seemed stronger, as if he had somehow enhanced his abilities in that regard. Luckily, Kelly had been holding back from her full potential too, and augmented her power level with the help of an unseen energy, her left hand soared up to the skies, her lightsaber following suit. Korroth was now stunned so Kelly had to make the most of her chance. She switched off her weapon before flipping her dominant hand so the blade was facing away from Korroth and struck his nose with the pommel of her lightsaber.

Seizing the opportunity, Kelly kicked sand into the eyes of the Peacekeeper in an effort to make it impossible for him to continue. Kelly’s lightsaber probed the Peacekeeper’s defence, from a rapid riposte down at his knees to an attempt at a disarming strike, attempting to find flaws within the technique of her adversary. Able to find an opening, her left leg pushed forward aggressively and landed to the higher portion of the inside thigh region on her opponent’s left side, dropping the slightly taller combatant to his knees. A kick with the opposite leg to Korroth’s arm led to him dropping his lightsaber. Attempting to retrieve his weapon and continue, the Jedi dived at his weapon but it flew straight to the free hand of his adversary. Both green and yellow blades hovered an inch or so from his neck, Korroth prepared to join with the Force.

Yet nothing happened, at least in a combative sense, though the environment was nothing like he had seen during the whole fight. They were on a ship, or was it a space station? Korroth didn’t know. He looked up to see a figure above, watching the encounter. It was Kelly’s Consul Teylas Ramar di Plagia. Somehow he was behind all this but to what end? How could Plagueis benefit from this? The Sith Battlelord explained. “You really thought you were on New Tython didn’t you Jedi? Had you been, I would not have had the idea to see how you’d do against my former Rollmaster. You were impressive, for a Jedi. We ran an experimental simulation to make you think you were on your home ground but all along the darkness has surrounded you.” A look of smugness and pride showed on the face of the Anzati. Everything then went black for Korroth as the pommels of his and his foe’s weapons crashed into his skull.

“What happens to him now Dread Lord?” Kelly asked inquisitively.

“He will be used up and tortured before being sent back to Odan-Urr, to spread fear and watch it drive them mad.” Teylas spoke almost gleefully. “This is just the beginning for them and they know it. We will do what we always do. Adapt, Ascend, Avail.” With that the Pau’an was hauled away to begin his suffering.