Hidden in Felucia’s jungle lies a two hundred meter expanse marking the ancient burial site of this world’s deadliest creatures and the location of innumerable remnants of hundreds, if not thousands of rancors. A circular enclosure of sun-bleached bones are arranged in the center of the cemetery—no doubt the former dwelling of a powerful practitioner of the Force. Cobwebs cling to the fallen beasts, a testament to the primordial age of some of the creatures.

Somewhat obscured by surrounding cliffs and the luminescent jungle, the dusted bones and carcasses are cast in a faint shadow, leaving just enough light to see by. The atmosphere is thick and stifling, with a strong overtone of dust and bone suspended in the still air. The taint of the Dark Side's influence has polluted the landmark over time, giving form to a dreadful aura that has scared off scavengers determined to sell off a rancor tusk or two. Unlike most of Felucia, the area is nearly devoid of life aside from ravenous predators dwelling within the hollowed-out husks of dead rancors.

Felucia, a beautiful world in most senses. The beautifully colored forests of reds, greens and blues shined and glistened in the sun. The Clone Wars had left its mark forever on the planet. Some areas of the forests had been trampled down and there were scars in the planet’s surface where life no longer grew. Shipwrecks were all over the ground and they ranged from Vulture Droids to ARC-170s. As Delak walked towards the Graveyard of the rancors he could sense the Dark Side of the Force growing ever darker. This place had been ravaged by it and its mark was all around. Moving into the graveyard Delak walked by some old Super Battle Droids that lay in pieces near the remnants of an old Barc Speeder.

“What an interesting place to have a first meeting with the new meat.” Delak thought to himself.

Delak continued walking until he came upon the skeleton of a giant Rancor. Atop its skull sat Mune Cinteroph. He was just relaxing there deep in meditation. The power flowing through this area was intoxicating. Delak could quickly sense why Mune stayed here in silence trying to soak up every bit of the Dark Side of the Force possible.

“Greetings Warrior,” Mune said without shifting a muscle, “It is good to meet you at last. I have been assigned to Shadow Guard and thought that our first meeting should be meaningful. That is why I have requested to meet you here in this ancient place. Here we will meet in combat so that we may truly learn about the other. It has been said that you cannot truly know someone until you have fought them.”

“Interesting and well met Mune. If it’s a fight you are looking for then it is a fight you shall receive. It’s time to duel.” Delak shouted out.

Delak stood across from Mune waiting for him to ready himself. Mune stood slowly from his spot atop the Rancor’s skull and jumped into the air doing a quick flip and landed upright a few feet from where Delak stood. Neither man flinched as they faced each other. Delak unclipped his Lightsaber from its place on his belt while Mune did likewise. Delak grabbed high on his hilt and ignited the Crimson blade with a snap hiss. He bent back on his right leg and put his hilt above his head, extending his free hand toward the enemy. Mune took his saber and ignited its purple blade with a similar snap hiss. He took a loose grip on the saber and took a step backwards, holding the blade in front of him while keeping his weight on his front foot. The humming of both blades synchronized and it sounded almost like music playing against the wind. Mune made the first move and leapt towards Delak and he quickly sidestepped the attack while blocking it quickly. He watched as the Savant spun quickly around like a whirlwind and attacked once again. Delak once again caught the enemy’s blade with his own with the lightsabers crashing together with the feeling of electricity flowing through the blade. Delak held his block and through the Force focused on a skull which was laying on the ground behind Mune. He pictured the skull in his mind flying across the air to hit the man in the back of the head. As the skull flew towards him Delak watched as the man spun quickly around and destroyed the skull with one slice of the blade. This action left him open to an attack and that’s what happened. The Warrior stabbed at the Savant and caught him in the thigh leaving a light wound as the blade left his skin charred slightly.

Mune felt the bite of the saber, the angry surge of endorphins that blazed pain for but seconds up his entire thigh. He drew upon the Force reflexively and numbed the sensation of pain that still nipped. He dropped the hip, the knee of the wounded thigh balanced upon the ancient earth. Before the Warrior could regain his stance, withdrawing from the stabbing motion of his attack; Mune took that briefest and most miniscule of openings and struck.

One second, Mune had dropped his knee. Second two, The Force, coiled into a brutal fist, was thrust with pure intent at his opponent. The next, Delak felt his world tilt before he could regain his balance. His left leg was torn crazily out from under him. Mune, in the same motion that brought him to his own knee, had dropped a shoulder and rolled so that the human was made to face plant right where his opponent had been. Delak was left prone upon the dusty earth.

The hybrid rose back to his feet and turned to face him again, an impish grin lit upon his features. It had not been anything devastating, there was no fun in that; but it was an amusing sight to behold: Delak face planted in the dirt.

“Are you taking a nap?” Mune asked with a glint in his eyes.

Delak regained his footing to face down his opponent again. He wiped dust from folds of clothing, and thought nothing of his opponent not pressing him with further attack. Rather, Mune waited patiently while the Warrior adjusted himself. When both stood ready once more, lightsabers raised and the hum of their song filled the air; Mune again made the first move.

It was in motion that his grip adjusted upon his lightsaber hilt, loosening part of his grip. Then he struck. He spun his saber, then struck. Blade snapped and snarled against blade. Delak had raised his own saber to block the blow but even before he could shift his own footing for a counter, Mune was in motion again. He drew his saber way as quickly as he had struck and another strike whipped about, aimed high, Delak could only defend with his own form. Again blades made contact. Mune flipped away, spun in the air and landed a few feet back. Dust kicked up, and before it could even begin to settle, he had thrown himself towards his opponent again.

He flashed in and out, knowing full well the openings in his own attacks, and so engaged his own speed to its fullest to keep those openings as narrow as he could. His eyes were narrowed in focus, the hybrid a wild dynamo of motion. Delak found himself hard pressed. It helped naught that Mune did not seem intent on even landing a blow, only to harry his defenses.

Mune again flipped away when Delak made yet another attempt at a strike.

Mune landed on the large skull he had so begun their introduction. The Savant breathed deeply the air as though to once again settle himself, or was it purely to regain his proper breath. Delak noted inwardly, that particular possibility. He certainly had begun to breathe deeper, and had not been bothered to mask the fact.

They stood, and regarded one another at a distance. No word needed be exchanged. They had each other’s measure now. Each had been analyzing every in and out of their opponent’s attacks and rebukes.

If he had been watching so intently, Delak then wondered, why a feeling of unease mantle itself upon him. He had missed something, he then realised.

Mune’s smile was one of impish glee. A glint of wickedness in ruby red eyes made all the more eerie in the gloom of the place. The Force responded to his silent command, invisible strands pulled taught, mere imaginings of a sorcerer. The true response of the Force however, was as desires when the planted needles responded. The planted throwing needles caught the light of Delak’s saber, a wicked glint that could not help but grab his attention.

Delak noted each time the hybrid had feinted away, the low landing, robes easily concealing the planting of a single needle. His reflexes kept the first of the Force whipped needles from taking him in the shoulder. Delak’s saber deflected the second. He evaded the third by sheer chance. He felt the fourth, a wicked bite into the meat of his thigh. He bit back the hiss of pain and in time to just barley dodge the final needle with a hard jerk to his right.

Mune lowered himself to sit back upon the skull, his breath once more even, he offered his opponent a cheeky grin. “Expertly done.”

Delak held his leg, blood a trickle between his digits. With a grunt of pain, he ripped the needle free and tossed it unceremoniously away. “I missed your setting of that trap… admittedly,” tones conversational all around.

“Shall we?” Mune asked almost as though they had not already been fighting intensely.

Delak held the spot on his leg where he had been struck by Mune’s needle. It was a clever attack and one he would not soon allow to be repeated. The time for action was now. If he didn’t show this new recruit his power he would never submit to his command. Delak picked himself up and concentrated on the hybrid warrior. He pulled his blade up in front of him and twisted it a bit in his hand as if bowing to his enemy with the saber. His opponent just sat on the skull as if to irritate the warrior. Delak lunged at the man hoping to catch him sitting down but, Mune was ready, leaping up and over Delak's head. Delak’s crimson blade hummed greedily seeking the blood it had been promised from the hybrid.

Mune had been quick to move, and Delak knew that he had to be quicker. The warrior lashed out with all of his might catching the man’s saber dead on as he blocked the oncoming flurry. He held the enemy in position, lightsabers crackling against each other, as he set up his next attack. Quickly, he rotated his leg around in a sweeping pattern and tripped up the Savant where he stood. Mune landed hard on his back as Delak continued his sweep and regained his balance. Delak directed his saber immediately for where the man lay on the ground. He quickly rolled out of the way and tried to catch the warrior off guard but Delak had been prepared this time and quickly brought his blade up to meet the other blade. Once again the hissing and crackling of the sabers sang in the air like a couple of Mynocks in battle. Delak pivoted on his heel to once again kick at the hybrid, this time he landed a blow to the stomach knocking the air from his opponent. The Savant stepped backwards briefly, as Delak lunged at him again. Mune was able to get an attack off with a wide arc from his lightsaber, however before the blade could land, Delak punched the hand of the oncoming attack. He knocked the saber from the man’s hand and hit him with an uppercut to the chin. Mune landed once again on his back as Delak attempted another jump attack with his saber in a downward kill thrust. Mune called with the Force and summoned his saber and parried the attack. Mune quickly rolled to the side kicking Delak’s knee as he went. Delak stumbled to the ground as his knee came out from under him. Something had happened, he didn’t feel right. He squirmed to get away as quickly as he could while Mune was still regaining himself. He managed to roll down into a little ditch. Mune regained himself enough to once again see Delak standing in front of him with a little bit of a hobble on his organic leg.

“Good work Mune, you have done well for someone who had recently come back from wherever it is rogues go when they leave the Brotherhood. You will make an excellent addition to Shadow Guard. Now let’s finish this.” Delak said with a winded expression on his face. Upon seeing the winded nature of his opponent and the hobble Mune knew it was time to take to the offensive. He jumped towards Delak and spun around and around landed saber blow after saber blow against the wounded man. The warrior did everything that he could to block each oncoming blow. Each strike was knocking him further and further backwards. Delak stumbled backwards over a rancor bone as he backpedaled. He landed hard on the ground and watched as Mune gained ground. He tried to get his saber up but the hybrid swiped at him hard from a left to right pattern. The saber was no longer in his hand and he didn’t know where it had been knocked to. Delak knew this fight had gone too far as Mune came in for the killing blow.

Mune felt a searing pain on his shoulder blade. He felt his back and looked and there was blood coming from it. He looked down in front of him and noticed that Delak no longer lie on the ground in front of him. He had been tricked! The Sith Warrior was a tricky one indeed. He had used his power in the Dark Side of the Force to bide his time while he regained his composure.

The blood lay crimson upon his hand. Mune eyed it dubiously. He had to admit, the warrior had caught him off guard to land the blow. He turned baleful eyes on his opponent, a look quickly shifting to amusement. It was delightful, he realized, to meet someone he could exchange blows with and enjoy doing so.

“Beautifully executed,” Mune offered, before he disengaged his saber.

Delak was no fool, having seen just what he could get himself up to, he knew it was not beyond the hybrid to try another form of trickery. He circled, saber at the ready.

Mune circled with him, slowly, step over step. Mune concentrated, he let his body continue to move while he focussed his attention on drawing the Force and bending it to his will. Like threads it ran through his fingers to be woven to what patterns his mind wished. Every step, another second. Every second, another step. They circled, eyes locked. Each piece fell into place. Each manipulation set perfectly into motion, the motion of another step within the slowly moving circle of two duelists looking for their opening.

Mune had his.

A hiss, a strike, Delak barely ducked and rolled in time. The violet saber rent the air in a violent slash. Dust, smoke, the blade struck the ground. The strike had been vicious and from behind, and only at the last moment had something told him in a panic to move. He blinked through wide eyes, the illusion of the circling hybrid gone, and Mune not bothering to conceal his Force signature any longer. Had the vertical strike met home… Delak dared not think what could have happened.

Instead, he acted. He threw himself forward and met his opponent’s saber. Their slashes and cuts came in a flurry of motion. Parries, evasions, counters and blocks. A dance, synchronized to near perfection. Delak moved, he saw it, he lunged.

With a twist, the glancing blow tore naught but clothing. Singing and burning the fabric in its passage. His reflexes were all that saved him. The Force, with a surge, thrust from his palm into Dalek’s side. An explosion of pain. Agony ripped through him and he was sent rolling across the dirt from the sheer force of the strike. His vision was a blur, and he tasted blood. Copper on his tongue. He spat as he rose, wiping a hand across his mouth to smear crimson absently.

He hadn’t honestly expected so much of a challenge from one he had assumed, rusty. But he clearly saw Mune was breathing hard, he was taxing himself. Or was the Savant using the same trick he, himself, had used earlier? He hesitated. Tactically, it was a stupid move… But what if that was the intent? To make him hesitate and leave himself open?

Mune gave his saber a spin, as if to draw the human from his thoughts.

“You seem pensive…”

“And you hesitate,” Delak chided.

“I am in no hurry. Are you short on time?” Mune inquired, canting his head a bit in inquiry.

They stood, meters apart, watchful of the other. Mune’s saber flickered, before finally the blade withdrew and he holstered his weapon, an impish grin playing at the corner of his mouth. The point of a fang showed just barely. His eyes filled with mirth.

Delak did not know what to make of him.

“Are you giving up?”

“Giving up? I thought we were getting to know each other?” He eyed Delak for a moment more, intelligence a fire in ruby red eyes. “I never intended to defeat you, I intended to fight you. I’ve fought you.”

Delak’s saber disengaged, his hand dropping to his side. “You’re serious.”

“You had my respect the instant our blades crossed. I know you now… and I like what I see. Now… let us see if you can put up with me.” He grinned wickedly and turned his back, walking in the direction Delak had come, satisfied with his renewed membership within a clan, and a battle team. He was going to have fun… and drive Delak crazy.