Combat Master’s Note: Because you are matches against a member of your Clan, this battle takes on a unique format. You will be encountering Janni Kuran with an ally. Treat Janni Kuran as you would any other ACC opponent. You WILL be judged using the ACC rubric, so the person posting the best story will move on to subsequent rounds. If you wish to fight your Clanmate as well, you may, but this is not in any way a requirement.

Begeren. Once a prosperous Sith world, it has been the site of numerous battles throughout the millennia. Grand halls and monuments were torn down and re-purposed by looting Republic forces thousands of years ago, before they were driven from the planet. Isolated settlements still dot the planet's surface, but the inhospitable, craggy, and desert-like terrain, along with the beasts common to many desert and Sith worlds, have kept most humanoids from colonizing. Occasional skirmishes have left debris scattered throughout the desert, and battles were fought here as recently as the Galactic Civil War. The planet is now under the control of the One Sith and is rumored to be full of all manner of priceless, ancient Sith artifacts.

The Dark Council has pushed forth to Begeren and the Grand Master, on his quest for ever more powerful items, has decreed the Clans and Houses seize anything of value. The unity shown by the Brotherhood during the beginning of this Crusade is fracturing, with the Clans and Houses growing tired and frustrated with the seemingly endless succession of battles. Tempers are flaring between former allies, with outright aggression no longer uncommon. Despite this, you have responded to the Grand Master's call—though whether it's to actually seize the items for the Brotherhood, destroy them, or use them for your own purposes, only you know.

NPC Character Sheet: One Sith Adept Janni Kuran

By chance, you and an ally have followed the call of the Force to a stretch of desert wasteland, seemingly unremarkable save for the various rock outcroppings that dot the landscape. These outcroppings, though, hide a subterranean cave network, known to be a den of wraids. Though the entrances to the caverns are typically narrow and dark, these tunnels quickly widen. Below the surface, bioluminescent plants and lichen provide limited light.

You know that, even if you and your compatriot are alone in the desert, you won’t be for long. An ancient Sith tomb is located deep within the caves the wraids now call home, and the One Sith are keenly aware of its location. With the Brotherhood’s invasion, the One Sith are scrambling to recover their most powerful artifacts. Exactly what you’ll find in that tomb, you’re not sure—but it is something of great power, that you can sense. You know it is your duty to find it, whatever it is, though what you do with it… that is up to you.

As the two of you near one of the entrances to the caves, you think you hear the sounds of footsteps, or maybe skittering, down below—and above ground, you hear the crunch of rock underfoot as someone else has found a different rocky cave entrance, as well.

“I just want it on record that I am not a fan of enclosed spaces; they limit my admittedly substantial abilities far too much.”

Nadrin's comment was, as with most of the things that came out of his mouth nowadays, laced with sarcasm. His evolution from silent background lurker to loud-mouthed front-line fighter had brought with it certain changes in his personality, not all of them welcomed by his peers.

The man he was with now was more than a peer though: his Consul Marick Arconae, looking over at him with the same stoney-faced blankness that he had used to greet many of Nadrin's flippant remarks. The Obelisk opened his mouth to reply, but paused at the sound of a crunching boot somewhere behind them. Stretching out with the Force, the Erinos felt a presence a dozen metres away from the outcropping, towards one of the many others that seemed to litter the desert within which the two Arconae found themselves. The Warlord dropped his hand to the blaster that was holstered at his hip as he turned to face this new threat, adrenaline coursing through his body as he prepared himself in case a fight erupted.

The vision that greeted him as he completed his turn was not what he had anticipated, but much worse than it first seemed. The first thing that drew his eye was a female humanoid with light crimson skin shining out of the gloom with pulled back hair that framed an admittedly beautiful face. Her clothing was relatively non-descript, but the lightsaber at her belt coupled with a glint in her eyes painted the picture of someone who was far more deadly than they might otherwise seem. The three hulking beasts that accompanied her only seemed to drive that point home even more emphatically.

“Who are you? It doesn’t matter, begone, our mission will not be stopped.”

Marick's words held an edge sharper than any blade, and the newcomer's eyes flicked towards him as her expression hardened visibly. She didn't reply at first, merely looking at the Arconan Consul as one of her accompanying animals growled menacingly as if in response to her changing emotions. Nadrin's fingers tightened around the grip of his blaster pistol, his senses tingling with anticipation as he waited to see who would make the first move. However, even as adrenaline flooded his body and focused his mind, seconds slipped onwards without another word being spoken, the only sounds being those of the desert around them and the trio of prowling creatures that accompanied this woman.

This tension is murder.

“Interesting; you speak like the leader, but your friend there seems no weaker than you.”

The woman spoke with light amusement, her words surprising Nadrin who kept his mouth shut for once. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being looked down on though, and he didn’t like it one bit. “You see, I can tell that while you are both strong, you stand above him, and I have to wonder why he is the servant and you are the master. Tell me, doesn’t it seem strange to you that he meekly accepts this low station when he could be so much more?”

Her eyes seemed to lock onto Nadrin's and he felt as though she were looking into his very core. Her words were intoxicating, and he found himself understanding some of the resentment and feelings of anger that had plagued him around his fellow Arconans.

She's right though, I know I'm strong. I have power I don’t use, and I get ignored because of it. This isn't fair...this isn't right.

It would be simple, too: kill Marick here and claim the Serpentine Throne for his own. He could come up with a story that everyone would believe, and there would be no proof otherwise.

So easy...

Nadrin's blaster was up and aimed in the blink of an eye, his natural alacrity augmented by the Force as he squeezed off a trio of blasts at his chosen enemy. The shots were a distraction however; he knew that his opponent would bat them aside with relative ease, and so he followed the shots up with an explosion of telekinetic fury, bursting out like a cannonball towards his Consul.

Time to take what's mine.

Marick had managed to dodge the blaster fire effortlessly, the whisperings of the Force allowing him to manoeuvre away before Nadrin had opened fire. The Consul even managed to bring himself away from the worst of the bludgeoning attack, however he could not avoid it completely as he was clipped by the edges of the telekinetic blast, the impact knocking the air from his lungs as he grasped one of his lightsabers and thumbed it to life. The Primarch parried several blaster bolts aside as his subordinate continued his assault, Marick working to try and catch his breath as he glared at Nadrin.

“Stop! Obey your Consul. Don't betray your Clan!”

The words seemed to flip a switch in the Erinos' mind, his loyalty to the Clan that had accepted him after his father's death overriding whatever insidious programming the female humanoid’s honeyed words had implanted. Nadrin stopped firing, his anger rising as he realised what had happened, feelings of violation and shame mingling within him to stoke the flames of his fury.

Manipulated so easily...I'm not going to take that.

Turning to face the woman, he felt his face grow red beneath his mask.

“You manipulative bitch, you're going to regret toying with the Arconae!”

A wicked grin flashed onto the woman's features as she plucked her lightsaber free, igniting the amethyst blade while her three pets let loose a cacophony of howls.

“Pity, you would have been a useful tool. When you get to the afterlife, tell them that Janni Kuran sent you.”

With that, she charged.

Nadrin’s deathmask did well to hide his disgust, but it did not take an empath to grasp the magnitude of the Erinos’ fury. The swelling hatred was palpable, so thick and heavy that it hung like fog over the stale desert air. Every muscle in the young Arconan’s body tightened as he focused the energy inwards. The knuckles around his blaster whitened as he grit his teeth.

Marick’s anger was more subtle, his hatred quietly seething and coalescing inside his gut. It was the anger of a quiet man; the anger of a man who let his actions speak louder than his words. It was the anger of a man who only wanted to protect the interest of his family from any who would threaten it.

The Hapan’s handsome features revealed nothing, of course. Cold and dispassionate, they might as well have been a deathmask of their own. Instead, the Consul simply held his lightsaber loosely at his side. His posture was relaxed and his breathing was steady. He seemed perfectly at ease despite the gravity of the situation. His eyes shifted mechanically from the charging woman, to her pets, then to the very rocks and stalagmites that made up their current surroundings.

Nadrin glanced sidelong at Marick. Their eyes met momentarily, a mutual understanding passing quicker than either could blink. The Arconae shared a bond deeper than blood, name, or title. They knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses without discussion. They both knew what they had to do.

Nadrin grinned ferally behind his mask as he threw himself sideways. His finger tightened on the trigger of his Westar, spraying a volley of crimson dashes at the encroaching Akk dogs. The lead dog sneered as the bolts seemed to bounce off its scale-hide, angering it further.

“Come on, you brainless mutts! My grandmother moves faster than that, and she doesn’t have legs!”

Whether or not the creatures understood the words, they nonetheless took the bait. They followed hungrily after their new prey as he ran off into the caverns, leaving The Shadow Lord to face the One Sith Adept alone.

-=x=-

The Zeltron’s wicked grin spread from ear to ear as she vaulted off a jagged rock and into the air with acrobatic ease. In the same flowing motion, Kuran twisted her body into an aerial roll, letting her falling momentum add force to her descending lightsaber.

Marick waited until the last second before sidestepping the attack. The One Sith Adept kept her momentum going as she unleashed a flurry of kinect lunges and slashes. Marick shuffled backwards as he parried each cut with precision, his boots weaving smoothly across the dust and sediment of the cavern floor.

Kuran was relentless in her attack, raking her blade across Marick’s abdomen. With a burst of heightened agility, Marick leaned back enough for the tip of Kuran’s violet blade to pass harmlessly through the air in front of his chest and then duck under the follow-up kick from her trailing boot.

Ataru, Marick surmised as he deflected another flurry of volatile strikes.

The Consul shifted his lightsaber from his right hand to his left. The change was subtle, but enough to turn Kuran’s grin into a frown. Her lightsaber twisted deftly, coming in low for Marick’s thighs, retracting mid-swing and then redirecting high for his neck. The Hapan hopped backward to avoid the slash and countered with his own cross-cut. His shoto moved with the same efficiency as it had in his right hand.

Marick felt his back press up against the rockwall of the cavern. The Zeltron’s grin returned as she finally cornered her quandary. She charged forward and drove her lightsaber through her opponent’s chest. Just as the blade would have skewered him, Marick vanished from sight. Kuran’s lightsaber met rockwall instead of flesh.

A nudge from the Force alerted Kuran of the Assassin’s trick as he shimmered back into view behind her. A stiletto dagger jutted from his wrist-bracer, the tip lunging for the exposed part of the Zeltron’s slender neck.

The Elder’s reflexes took hold as she twisted away from the deadly dagger. In the same counter-motion she crouched and then kicked out with augmented strength into the Hapan’s gut, send him sailing backwards into the opposite cave wall.

Marick groaned as he climbed back to his feet, willing the Force to dull the new collection of aches. He readied himself for another attack, but instead found Kuran standing over him, a coy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. The Hapan couldn’t help but notice a sudden magnetism to those lips.

Marick had grown up among a race known for its beautiful women, but something about this one was different. The way her hair framed her face. The exotic coloring of her hair. The lean, hardened muscles of her body. There was something to respect there. Even the way she smelled, despite the sweat of battle and the arid climate, whispered ‘sex’ over and over again in his ear. A darker, more primal part of the Hapan stirred. Lust wrestled with anger, and Marick ground his molars and narrowed his eyes dangerously at the Zeltron.

No, Marick whispered flatly with an icy venom. His mind was his, and his alone. This war could wear his body down, but he would not let it claim his mind.

“No,” Marick repeated, louder this time so his voice resonated through the cavern. “Your mind tricks will not work on me.”

Willpower alone allowed the Hapan to raise his lightsaber, its tip hovering over Kuran’s breastplate. His cerulean eyes locked onto hers, defiance burning with the fire of a thousand exploding suns.

Janni Kuran simply smiled.

A hairline fissure in a mind of iron cracked. Marick’s shoulders slumped, and his eyes glassed over. His saber dropped to his side, and deactivated.

Nadrin descended into the caverns at an almost breakneck pace, reckless abandon held in check by the years of training he had received first from his father and later from the Arconan military. The young Arconae ran past the jagged tooth-like rocks that jutted from the floor and ceiling of the natural corridor, his heart hammering in his chest like a drum.

Nadrin knew he needed to finish this fight as quickly as possible so that he could return and lend his aid to Marick. He had felt her power when she had manipulated him so masterfully and part of him doubted his Consul's chances. He dodged a particularly vicious-looking stalagmite that had threatened to ruin his day, his mind rushing with ways to try and take out at least one of the akk dogs that chased him. The Warlord could hear the sound of crashing rocks as the beasts that trailed him bulled their way past the obstacle that Nadrin had just avoided, and the sound of tumbling debris gave him an idea.

Well, that could work.

The Sith turned his attention to the ceiling and quickly spotted what he was looking for; a cluster of jagged stalactites ahead of him. Bringing his pistol up, Nadrin fired a trio of shots into the area of the ceiling that he had pinpointed and watched as the blasts chewed away at the base of the hanging rock shards. A burst of Force-enhanced speed carried him past the stalactites before he jumped forward and turned, pulling the loose rocks downwards onto the head of the first dog with the Force. Whilst the young Arconae had anticipated only a few bits of rock falling, he had failed to predict the destructive effect that his shots would have on the unstable roof of the tunnel. Half of the roof caved in as a hailstorm of debris crashed down onto the head of the lead akk dog, pinning it to the ground.

Can't stop, the others will come even if one is dead.

Nadrin completed his spin and carried on running, bursting into the cavern that lay ahead, coming to a stop a handful of metres in.

“Next time, I'm bringing grenades.”

The words came from between gasps as the Sith came to a halt and stretched out with the Force, reaching out to try and sense where the other two beasts that were chasing him were. His answer came in an explosion of rubble as the pair of monstrous dogs burst through the rocks that Nadrin had brought down. Instinct kicked in as the Warlord reached out with the Force, moulding it to his will as he stopped the lead dog momentarily in it's tracks. The temporary freeze was all that the Arconae needed, as he brought his blaster up, aimed as carefully as he could and squeezed the trigger twice. The pair of bolts flew true, slamming into the akk's eye and sending the beast lurching backwards, dead.

The eyes are always a weak point.

It was a simple lesson, but it evaporated from his mind as panic descended like a wave at the sight of the third creature barrelling forwards, too close to avoid. Nadrin dropped his blaster and cursed his lack of awareness as he was smashed backwards by the impact of the akk dog, pain arcing through his body as he slammed into the ground with the beast on top of him. Its gnashing teeth and putrid breath reaching for the Sith's throat, as he tried to pull away, his hands scrabbling around for something, anything that he could use to defend himself. The dog's front claws raked at the Arconae's face, shattering the bottom half of his mask and leaving deep gashes in his cheek and across his mouth. Nadrin screamed with pain and let out a blast of telekinetic fury that crashed like a hammer blow into the cavernous maw of the beast, pushing it backwards slightly and giving the Sith a sliver of breathing room.

It was enough.

The Arconae plucked his lightsaber from its place at the small of his back, thumbed the blade to life and rammed the weapon past the akk dog's teeth and up into the roof of its mouth. Letting go of the weapon, Nadrin scrambled backwards and away from the dying creature as it slumped to the ground, its life ebbing away as the Warlord lay, panting on the ground as the pain of his injuries threatened to overwhelm him. With an effort, the young man rose clumsily to his feet and retrieved his lightsaber from where he had left it, not even bothering to check the weapon as he disengaged it and hung it back on his belt. Walking over to his blaster, he picked the weapon up and stumbled away, deeper into the cave systems.

Still have a mission to do.

=^=

Nadrin emerged out into the small cavern where he had left Marick and Janni before, the pain that threatened to consume him pushed to one side by the singular desire to save his Consul; whatever the cost. He saw an unwelcome scene, his fellow Arconae on his knees with a glassy-eyed blankness spread across his slack features a handful of metres away.

“If I give you this artefact, will you let him go?”

Agony racked his body as he spoke, the still-fresh lacerations on his lips spread, causing him no amount of distress. When the lithe Zeltron looked up her features were twisted with fury. She spoke, biting out every word as she glared at the Warlord.

“Why do that when I can just kill you?”

Her blaster was in her hand and aimed before Nadrin could even react. She fired once, twice, three times and, for the first and final time, the Force refused to aid the Arconae when he needed it most. All three blasts slammed into his chest and threw him backwards, dead.

Nadrin Erinos Arconae bolted into a wide-open cavern with a pair of angry Akk dogs on his heels. Scattered throughout were a series of tall rock shelves.

Nadrin leapt for one of the shelves with the aide of the Force. He landed easily on the elevated platform, spun and spied a set of jagged hanging rocks overhead. He fired his blaster and the rocks dislodged from the ceiling and fell like crashing meteorites.

The lead Akk dog pushed off its powerful legs and bolted clear. The second was not so lucky. A flurry of jagged edges dug into the cracks of its scaly hide and a final piece speared right through its lightly armored eyelid. Nadrin emptied the remainder of his clip into the fallen creature. It sputtered and thrashed in place before going limp in its own blood.

The last dog angrily rushed towards the platform, leaping through the air with its front claws bared. It might have made the ledge, but a telekinetic mallet slammed right into its face, forcing the dog’s head down while its neck crashed into the rockwall. It fell to the floor at an awkward angle before rolling onto its back.

Nadrin had already reloaded and now emptied his last clip into the creature’s exposed belly. It screeched, spasmed, and then fell still.

Catching his breath for a moment, Nadrin leapt down from his high ground and walked over to the small pool of water that rested in the center of the cavern. In the pool’s reflection, a familiar face became visible. The Erinos turned to see his Consul approaching slowly, his eyes ignoring the spacious cavern and remaining locked on his own.

“I was almost worried she would have been too much for you,” Nadrin teased. “I was ready to have Legorii warm up the throne-”

The corners of Marick’s eyes narrowed dangerously. A warning flared in the back of Nadrin’s mind and told him something was wrong.

Marick burst into a sudden motion, moving faster than anyone the Warlord had ever seen. A flash of silver. The edge of the Hapan’s dagger cut a fine line across Nadrin’s tunic. Blood spurted free as the Erinos staggered backwards, eyes flaring with anger.

“You want the throne so bad!? Come and take it,” the Consul sneered.

It was then that Nadrin caught glimpse of a figure standing off to the far end of the cavern. Her lips were wet and curved into a sadistic grin. He remembered what it had felt like having the woman in his head, and snapped his lightsaber to life with a scowl. The pain in his chest stung, but his adrenaline left it a dull afterthought.

Marick’s own lightsaber flared, his dagger still gripped firmly in his off hand. The Primarch lashed out for each of Nardin's shoulders with abandon. The Warlord shuffled backwards and swatted aside the wild strikes.

“This is what I am, Nadrin! This is what your father wanted! I am a weapon, not a leader!”

Nadrin felt his anger swell at the thought of being betrayed by his own leader. He spun his saber deftly and thrust it towards the Hapan’s chest.

Marick countered as if by instinct. In one smooth motion he batted Nadrin's saber aside, spun around and then jabbed the tip of his dagger into the meat of Nadrin's flank. Blood sputtered from his mouth and leaked out the sides of his deathmask. The Erinos fell, broken of body and spirit.

From off to the side, Janni Kuran clapped her hands together and stalked over to her new champion. She ran her fingers down his spine as if he were a prized hunting cat.

“You did well,” she purred into his ear, slithering her body in front of him to look into his eyes. “My master will be pleased. He would never withhold power from you the way your Grand Master does. You will see.” Her eyes flicked down his body then back up to his eyes. “Oh, yes, I’m going to have fun with you.”

A sudden fluctuation in the Dark Side should have alerted Kuran that something was not right. The thought of anyone resisting her had never crossed her mind, however. She reached out for the Hapan’s mind once again, hoping to twist his desire further to her will.

This time, however, she found nothing but a wall of plasteel, reinforced like the hull of a star destroyer. Her eyes widened as Marick bared his teeth, hatred fusing with resolve to burn what control she had away.

“My mind is my own,” Marick Arconae hissed, his lightsaber sliding effortlessly into the Zeltron’s breastplate. Her eyes rolled back as she cried out sharply. In the same fluid motion Marick grabbed her by the hair and flicked his saber evenly across her neck. Head separated from torso in a gesture so nonchalant it could make a cat jealous. Kuran’s body slumped bonelessly to the floor while Marick tossed the head aside as if discarding a piece of trash.

The Hapan walked over to Nadrin and rolled the Erinos over. He was pleased to see he was still breathing. This cave teemed with the dark side, and Marick had always admired how Nadrin could draw energy from the world around him better than most. The wounds he had inflicted on the Warlord were slowly patching themselves up.

“I didn’t hit anything vital,” the Hapan said calmly as he offered his hand. Nadrin groaned and let his Consul pull him to his feet, laying an arm around his shoulder.

“Could have fooled me.”

Marick nodded once, and looked around the cavern. His eyes were clear as crystals and took in every detail. “I wasn’t able to get her to tell me where the One Sith basecamp is. However, this cavern seems to be reward of its own. Legorii and the others should be here shortly with an excavation team.”