Once, it was the home to the witches of Dathomir, otherwise known as the Nightsisters. Tucked away in from the rest of the galaxy in an isolated cluster, the Nightsisters were able to draw energy from the planet itself, and pursued a type of ritualistic magic. They ruled over the population of Zabarak—Nightbrothers—and used them as a warrior caste to serve their purposes.

Then, the Clone Wars. The Nightsisters were pulled into the conflict due to the machinations of Mother Talzin and her rival Darth Sidious. This ultimately lead to the eradication of the Dathomarians and their settlements. The desolation was claimed by the Confederacy of Independent Systems after the last Nightsiser fell.

Now, the planet known as Dathomir is a haunted skeleton of its former greatness. A perpetual crimson glow coats the planet. The bleak world has become an amalgamation of ruined forest, decrepit swamplands, and withered mountains worn to the sands of time.

In the desolate swamps, faint echoes haunt the graves of the long-dead witches, infusing the green fog that spreads above the damp ground. Dreadful whispers rumoured to be lingering incantations defend the world from intruders. Tall tales and rumors of zombies and ritual sacrifice alluding to grisly flashes of imagery.

The trees, large and misshapen, promise misery to those who touch their tortured bark and open themselves to the memories of the place. Eerie as the voices over the wind, the water beneath the fog appears red and bubbling, as if the land itself were pockmarked in cauldrons of blood to keep the incantations alive.

Creatures unaffected by the purge of the Nightsisters still remain. Snakes, reptiles and insects of varying lethality wander the wasteland. Reports have even said that rancor still roam freely.

This is Dathomir.

The swamp stretched for as far as his eyes could see, a crimson tinged wasteland of misery and loss. Twisted husks of ancient trees stood sentinel over the miserable scene. A desolation, made a grave for those fallen witches. The Hybrid took it in, a sense of wonderment at the grounds he found himself upon. The energies of the planet itself, the hum of power, the place still sang with the ritual magic of the Nightsisters.

Mune drew in a slow breath, centered himself, before he turned and faced Alara. Why it was she had chosen Dathomir, he could but guess at. He met her amber eyes.

“Mune.”

Mune nearly laughed out loud. He grinned impishly to the Sephi. “Mune? Is that any way to greet your superior?”

“Oh? We are using titles then?”

“You called me out here… I cannot say I am fond of this sort of desolation.” Mune explained.

The Sephi grinned at her rollmaster, “You do feel it though? The power in this place?”

The Hybrid turned his glance outwards, to once more take in the desolation all around them. Power, it was there, he felt it well enough himself. He shifted his gaze back to the girl, the fog whispering about her, tugging at the hem of her cloak and the ankles of her combat boots. She very nearly looked at home in the darkness of the place. The air, to him, was nearly oppressive. He would not admit that the place made him uneasy, not to his fellow Palatinaean.

The snap hiss of two sabers activating drew him out of his thoughts and back to the Aedile of house Excidium. His eyes traced the yellow plasma of the blade before alighting back upon the amber eyes of the lady again. “Of course, how silly of me to forget the training exercise.”

The Sephi wasted no time, she was on him within seconds. She felt her strike nudged aside by the Force, causing her to miss her target by a hair’s breadth. Her second saber slashed violently, rending the air in a brilliant arc of yellow plasma. The Hybrid moved in close and grabbed her wrist, halting the blow. The saber hummed its violent song in his ear, so close it had come.

Mune exhaled slowly, his eyes studious of the Savant. She did not let up, she struck with her free saber. Mune was forced to release her left wrist and threw himself back. The weapon nearly grazed his cloak. He skidded to a halt, hands opened and his own sabers called from their holsters to ignite in one quick motion. Blue and violet, a cascade of light. He caught her next strike upon the blue. The sound of two saber locked, crackled wickedly through the air. He reversed his grip on his violet saber and blocked her second weapon. She is strong, he thought to himself, noting too the extra height she had on him. Mune grunted, his eyes caught the slightest muscle movement in her right arm. He shifted his own weight in response and felt the saber strike go wide.

Alara’s blows came in rapid succession. Sabers rent the air, cutting and slashing, stabbing and jabbing. The Sephi did not let up. She rained blow after blow upon him, yet the Hybrid managed to defend. There was no time for him to go on the offensive, her relentless assault left no room for it. She attacked on instinct, striking for an opening only to have it close again and her attack parried.

He measured, he judged and adjusted based on every strike that came his way. He could not afford to take his eyes off her, else she get through and land a blow. He saw no pattern so knew well she attacked based on instinctive reactions. He could only, thus assume she was not analyzing him as he analyzed her.

Both saber came down at once, Mune reversed the grip on his purple saber and caught the blow. The force of it brought him to a knee with a grunt. His offhand saber dropped from his grip, disengaging. He grabbed at the Force, concentrated it into a tight coil of pure energy. The resonant hiss of their weapons in contact did nothing to distract. He felt her strength bearing down on him, pressing him firmer upon his knee. Eyes narrowed, the sparking light of their sabers made sinister the grin that crossed his lips. He chose that moment to strike. The Force slammed into her abdomen all at once, a strike that made the air explode from her lungs in a shocked whoosh of air.

Alara was flung back by the sheer force of the blow. To her credit, she did not fall. She landed on her feet, though a bit shaky as she gulped in air, trying her best to catch her breath after the surprise attack.

A feline-like growl rose from Alara’s chest. Through all her months of serving Scholae Palatinae, she always anticipated this moment. She had been preparing to fight her Rollmaster over many moons. The thought of her making silly mistakes like letting him hit her with such Force power angered her greatly. She nearly fell to the cold, damp burgundy-hued soil but managed to slip a foot in front of her to catch her balance. The half-Sephi pushed herself upwards, picked up her sabers again, and faced Mune.

“You took that hit pretty well,” Mune smiled at her.

“No need for encouragement, Mune. I just want your training.” Alara spoke sternly. She angled her sabers in preparation to begin combat once more.

The Hybrid sighed, but mimicked her actions. “I’m your friend as well as your Rollmaster, Alara. Encouragement is something you should expect from me.”

She minded her next words with a quick step backwards, though she did not lower her arms from position. “I appreciate it, Mune. Thank you. Let’s get to the fight. It’s time for me to show you what I can do.”

“Is that what this is about, Alara?” the Arcanist lowered his sabers slowly. “You are trying to prove yourself? I know very well what you are capable of… Why is this your concern?”

The Marauder swallowed harshly at the result of her mistake. She had given far too much information away. The last few weeks without her home, without her usual training programs, and with all the extra weight of preparation tasks for the takeover of the new system, she was becoming rather hard towards herself. Mune must have been sensitive enough to pick that up. Still, she would not let herself get sensitive. She had to urge the fight on. She had to prove her worth. Without a word, Alara stepped forward and struck again. The Seer’s lips curled into a frustrated frown, but he obliged her and raised a violet saber to meet her attack.

The two danced the dance of war with rapid attacks and spins that colored the scenery with a violet and yellow array of light. Though the world continued to creak and groan around them with a shrill wind and moistened darkness, they pushed the exercise onwards.

“Alara…” the Hybrid’s voice rose between attacks, “Is everything okay?”

Alara did not answer. Instead, his pestering only caused her inner frustrations to grow more irritated. She bit her lip and thrusted herself further in combat. Her arms continued to swing her sabers in rapid and intricate swivels. She could feel that Mune would not give up asking her questions. The thought of further interrogation grinded inside her mind.

“Enough, Alara!” the Krath growled. With a flick of his eyes, her sabers were deactivated and thrown to the mud. Mune deactivated his and threw them down as well. “Though these emotions may be great fuel for a fight, they aren’t great fuel for leaders’ relationships. What’s going on?”

She finally had it. With a quick movement of her cloak, she vanished out of sight. The half-Sephi left the half-Bothan in his confusion and slipped behind a tree. As she reappeared into sight but not into mind, the Aedile pulled her favored energy bow from behind her back and show a plasma arrow. The arrow darted speedily into the foul air, and landed directly near her opponent’s feet.

“I came here to fight, Mune. Not to receive counselling.” With that, Alara aimed her bow at the ready.

Mune sighed heavily, a sound of exasperation. How impatient the young had become. He chuckled a bit, to think of himself as one wizened by experienced. He grinned, ruby eyes narrowed. Alara had already begun to draw back on her bow for another shot. The Force rose to his summons, a surge of power through the muscles of his legs. He moved in a wicked burst of speed, and was upon the half-Sephi. He dodged the loosed plasma arrow. He dropped low all at once, pivoted and with brutal intent drove his elbow up into the woman’s solar plexus. He felt her weight shift just enough in anticipation of the blow, and knew he had not made contact with as much force as he had intended.

Alara adjusted, her weight dropping to her back foot. She grunted, the kinetic blow sending a shock through her but not one she could not handle. She brought her knee up to take the Hybrid in the side. She could already see the adjusting of the Seer’s weight and shifting of his body to block the knee thrust. He was still moving at an amplified speed, she noted. Even as Mune blocked, she was already dropping her elbow to take him between the shoulder blades.

Mune dropped, feeling her elbow brush nought but the fabric of his cloak. His hands pressed to the damp cold earth, catching himself before he hit the ground. He focussed his mind to the point he sensed the blow about to land, already concentrating to block out the pain even as it burst through his right side. The kick whipped him over. He twisted quickly in the air, his reflexes allowing him to land roughly on a knee, his right foot planted, a hand pressed into the soil for balance. Alara’s wild kick at his head was caught in his free left hand, her ankle grasped firmly. She was better at martial arts than he, Mune surmised.

Alara felt the grip upon her ankle and snarled. “You are sharp… you’re reading my moves.”

Mune grinned impishly, sweat beading upon his brow. His grin became a growl when the Sephi’s bow came. He released her ankle and threw himself back, a plasma arrow protruding from the ground upon which he had only moments before been standing. He skidded to a halt, both hands outstretched, his sabers snapped to each and ignited to deflect a second arrow with a crackling hiss of energy.

“Isn’t this that much better? The flow of battle, the best way to understand the universe and how it works?” Alara giggled maniacally.

“Killing is your language, Alara, not mine.”

“Oh? Is it not? I’ve heard you were an assassin, and a good one at that,” she retorted, a dark smile marking her chiseled features. “Come now, be honest, you loved it as much as I do.”

“Analyzing me now, are we?” Mune laughed.

“It is only fair that I have a turn, Mune.”

The Force shrieked around him, a shudder that ran up his spine. He broke out in a cold sweat, he felt the goose flesh crawl across his skin. The fear became something palpable, a bitter taste upon the back of his tongue. He steadied his hands with pure resolve, mastering himself as quickly as she had triggered the terror that tried to engulf him all at once. No good, Alara. He spoke into her mind, making her straighten up in surprise, then her own saber flew at her head, flung at her by the Seer.

Alara caught the hilt of her weapon, forcing her to drop her bow. It ignited in time to catch one of Mune’s sabers as she slashed down in a vicious arcing cut at her left shoulder. The fox-like Hybrid was full of tricks, she realized. He never stopped thinking and calculating. She only barely caught the next slash of his lightsaber, the sound of the weapons humming and crackling like things possessed.

“Son of a rancor....” Alara cursed. “Stop toying with me!”