Located on Sepros, the battles of the past have left their mark in the most permanent of ways with the crashing of the Star Destroyer Ballista. The scar of the crash lays barren in the form of an expansive crater deep in the heart of the Shadow Lands. This crater forms a clear contrast between the life of the jungle, and the death the Brotherhood can bring.

Along the northernmost slope of the barren crater lays the entrance to an ancient Sith ruin, taking the form of near endless catacombs that have yet to be fully explored. Vines and more stubborn flora etch out towards the edges of the crater from the entrance. Patches of nature pockmark the basin of the crater itself while laying claim to the strewn rock, rubble, and debris of the starship that formed it.

As a testament to the might of the explosion that created it, the crater is filled with twisted and misshapen fragments of the Ballista itself. In some cases, entire hallways remain intact, providing cover for those who seek it. The more bold of the animals looming within the Shadow Lands have made the Crash Site their home, and will defend it with vicious certainty.

The scar of the dark side, tainted by war, looms deep within the ground itself, an unmistakable declaration that you stand in the Ballista Crash Site.

The air was heavy with the smell of fresh rain. While the sun rose above the forest trees Mactire wiped his forehead with left sleeve, as sweat slowly dripped down. He was trudging through the forest for days. Animals from the area occasionally ventured out from their hiding spots to see who it was grudgingly moving through their territory.

Mactire looked down at his datapad with the map of the area. Though there was parts of the forest he wish he could just relax in, the old crash site was his location. There was a rumor about a Jedi Holocron still unrecovered and he wanted it. He knew there would be some competition and he had yet to encounter it, so he was still hopeful that he could make it to the site in time.

As he made his was closer to the site, the sounds of the forest trickled into nothing but silence. This was normal for the area, though it put Mactire on guard more so than ever. Silence in the forests always made him feel uneasy. It was as if the animals knew that there was someone or something wrong or more dangerous in the area, and they wanted it pass quickly.

Upon reaching the creator and making his way down the trail of it the Shadow’s hairs on the back of his neck stood to full attention as a rustling sound came from his left behind the bushes.

Slowly communing with the area, enhanced by the Force, Mactire stretched his senses out trying to locate the source of noise. He slowed his breathing, and listened for another sound. This was his mistake as a projectile came quickly from behind him and to the left.

The Shadow moved quickly to try and dodge it, only to fail as it clipped him just above the shoulder. Rolling one ground and pulling out his blasters Mactire slowly scanned the area looking for the attacker.

“Alright now. We can do this the easy way or the hard way!” Mactire yelled while surveying the area for potential cover.

A figure in the brown flowing robes of the Jedi of old, with his black hair and silver-blue eyes slowly steps out from the forest holding a slugthrower pointed directly at Mactire smiling lightly.

“There is always the fun way. The third option and in my opinion the best option, little Knight.” The figure said laughing.

Mactire growls lightly, being called short in any manner has always set him off slightly.

“Zachary, why are you here? Please tell me it’s to help and not hinder me?” Mactire asks, slowly getting his muscles ready in case he has to.

Zachary smiks, firing a few more shots at the Shadow, laughing.

“I’m here to fight you!” he shouts manically.

Macite pushes to the right, and starts running towards some fragments of the ship. He leaps into the air, twisting, landing hard on his back behind a huge slab of metal. Slowly he leans up against the slab resting his back against the hot metal from the harsh sun.

As the Sorcerer, steadily walks closer firing off more rounds as they clang against the metal slab Mactire slowly counts the rounds and the timing of them. When it appears to have stopped the Shadow leans over to the right and fires a few rounds towards Zachary.

The Sorcerer laughs lightly as they miss him. He then takes to one knee and fires a few slug rounds in rapid succession towards Mactire. The first to shots are high and to far to the right, the third round however connects and buries itself deeply into Mactire’s shoulder.

“AHHHHHHH!” Mactire howls with pain, dropping his blasters and grasping onto his shoulder.

His shoulder feels as if it’s on fire, trying to focus and center his mind he tries to heal the wound as best he can. With the slug lodged in him the healing can’t be completed until it is removed but the bleeding has stopped for now, as long as he is careful.

This is a fight that may not last much longer, are the thoughts that cross the Shadow’s mind.

This fight was quickly becoming more of a farce with each passing moment. With all the time spent in Seng Karash and all the tedium of the Lion’s Tooth, a little peace was all the man had set out to find. It didn’t matter in the end though. He was always the teacher, always the mentor and even if the Knight was little trouble for him, he would at least give the boy something to walk away with.

"Oh come on now, Mactire. I really hope that you aren't going to let things end quite that quickly." The previous mirth in his voice was gone, replaced by a tone of distaste bordering on disgust. O'Maille tilted his head back, looking down cooly at the Knight as he waved his Reynolds slugthrower in the air almost lazily. "You had previously served as the head of Devil's Shroud if I recall correctly? I would have expected more.”

Anger flashed in the blueish-gold hue of the Journeyman's eyes as he glared up at his Aedile as his lip curled in a snarl. His pride had been wounded slightly at the closing of his Battle Team. Mactire's face flushed as he sized up the Dark Jedi standing before him. His hand twitching slightly as he stood in momentary indecision.

"I see anger in your eyes," Zachary smiled genuinely now, "I assume that means you are not going to just roll over and give up then?"

These words struck a sour chord with the Shadow. The energy pent-up within him exploded. All his time training paid off as he brought his leg around, driving it into the Sorcerer’s gut. The blow elicited an audible grunt and the widened blue-silver eyes gave Mactire satisfaction. Following through with the momentum, the Knight brought around a clenched fist. The strike only managed to glance off Zachary’s cheek as he twisted his torso and stepped backward. Mactire regretted the impulsive attack as a stab of pain shot through his shoulder.

Backpedalling now, O’Maille unclipped the lightsaber from his side, and ignited the vermillion beam with an electronic crack. He glanced at the weapon with slight concern, then sideways and then back again at the Shadow. “You have discipline, but let us keep things more civilized. That is, unless you are afraid you can’t best me in a little lightsaber play, of course. I wouldn’t want to tax you too greatly.” The Corellian glanced sideways as he spoke the words.

Mactire looked the man over, incensed over the whole situation. He hadn’t been looking for all this. The Sorcerer had shot at him first and now had the audacity to start questioning his prowess on top of that. Lowering his hand to his belt, Mactire closed his fingers around his own lightsaber. He watched as O’Maille darted sideways, toward more of the wreckage within the crater. With a whoop, the Dark Jedi darted quickly through a doorway, disappearing from sight.

All the trouble so far and now Zachary was going to give him chase. Mactire ran toward the doorway with new determination. He was going to make the Sorcerer regret this folly.