When you are traversing the wild and untouched landscapes of the savannah, just remind yourself that you are never the apex predator. The vast and desolate area of sand, rocks, dead and ancient trees are all the same blood-orange color for a simple reason: to hide your worst nightmare from your sight, the Akul. A large, quadrupedal and orange furred mammal, the Akul are the top predators that hunt all sorts of bovine, dog, hooved and giant mammals. Using their extraordinary sense of smell, they can trace your scent from days long past and track you down without mercy.

Throughout the Savannah, tall and wispy Turu-grass stretches out into long ranging fields. Watering holes are sparse and spread thin, and the terrain offers little safety from the blazing sun that hangs overhead. When the sun retreats and gives way to moonlight, the Savannah becomes almost chill, but the night is dark and full of wild creatures. In the Savannah, it’s hunt or be hunted.

Amidst the orange and red vegetation on the surface of Shili, one would find the presence of a Chiss abnormal. Even more abnormal would be to see said Chiss hovering over the dead body of a massive, orange furred creature, an Akul. Rhylance, the Consul of Clan Taldryan, could be seen cutting into the body of the Akul with his hunting dagger. He was taking pieces of the animals flesh and internal organs and sealing them in containers, before placing them in the backpack that was near his feet.

Rhylance was no fool, and he understood that the work he did need to be handled quickly. On this planet; he was always being hunted. Periodically the Chiss would make a quick observation of the surrounding orange savannah. Nearly finished collecting the samples he needed, a snapping noise alerted him to the presence of a lifeform behind him. His mind engaged, contemplating the chances of another Akul attacking him, and finding that the chances were high.

Slowly, the Chiss turned around. What he found may not have been an Akul, yet it was no less dangerous an adversary. A figure stood several yards behind him wearing a set of matte black robes, similar to those that many in the Dark Brotherhood wore. Extensive research into the known members of the brotherhood during his reign as Consul allowed Rhylance to recognize a white mask that rested on his visitor's left shoulder.

“To what do I owe this unexpected displeasure? Surely a member of Scholae Palatinae has more important things to do than stalk a lowly Chiss, what with the recent tragedy that befell your Clan’s system?”

The figure took a step forward, his eyes scanning over the savannah and taking in everything upon it. Rhylance could see the calculating look in his red eyes.

“You know of me, “Lowly Chiss”? I should consider myself lucky that the Consul of the fallen Clan Taldryan would have the time, or even the resources at this juncture to study up on random members of my Clan.”

“”Fallen Clan” might be it bit too presumptuous, wouldn’t you agree Mune Cineteroph?” The Chiss asked, sarcasm dripping in his voice.

“Not when you’ve chosen to align yourself with the Jedi of Odan Urr.” Mune answered, slowly drawing out one of his swords named Valholl.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

“No, Rhylance, The Jedi are the enemy of the Brotherhood. Pravus will pay for what he’s done, yes. But Taldryan must answer for her disparities as well.”

“Is there no way to come to a peaceful solution? Surely we need not be barbarians when it’s clear we are the hunted in this land, and not the hunters.” Rhylance gestured to the surrounding vegetation.

“I’m afraid not Taldryan.”

“Scholae Palatinae and Taldryan, together our Clans could do much in the counteroffensive against Pravus’s rule. There are bigger battles to be fought. Grander designs that must be completed. Let us settle this as intellectuals.” Rhylance took a half step back, turning the right side of his body away slightly. He slowly moved his right hand down towards the holster of his blaster, and dropped the hunting knife he had been holding.

Mune noticed the falling knife and moved into action. Shortening the distance between them, he watched Rhylance pull out a Synergy WLD-5 Peacekeeper and pull the trigger. With the grace of a long trained dancer, and the aid of the Force, his body twisted away from the blaster bolt. As he straightened out and faced Rhylance, Mune thrust the blade forward. The Chiss backed away from the sharp blade and continued to fire the blaster in his enemy's direction. The hybrid swerved through the blaster fire, The Force guiding him to safety.

Rhylance knew that in a close quarters confrontation, he was no match for his enemy. His only chance was to run and find a more entangled area of engagement. He could see the concentration that Mune exuded as he evaded the blaster fire. The Chiss was forced to continue evading the sharp blade the swung nearer to his skin. Rhylance aimed his next shot at Mune’s feet and fired. The ground at the Scholae Palatinae Dark Jedi’s feet erupted, sending him sprawling. But not before one of his blades grazed the Chiss’s ribs on the left side.

Mune felt the world tilt, the grass then ground rising to take him full in the back. He shifted his weight as quickly, to somersault backwards and regain his feet in a fluid motion. A feat of acrobatics that left him ready to leap again into action if he so needed.

Rhylance felt the sting of the wound, felt the blood freely run into the cloth of his uniform. The fingers of his free hand examined the wound, by touch alone, he surmised it was not serious enough to require medical attention. His eyes never left his assailant, the Commander not foolish enough to look away. “I know you are a scholar, an intellectual, Cinteroph. Why resort to this childish show of violence?”

“You are a scientist.” Mune spoke evenly, straightening up from his crouch with the point of his sword remaining levelled at the other man. “Observe, and hypothesise, then share with me your conclusions when the battle is over.”

“Pardon?”

Mune lunged, the point of his sword missing narrowly the right shoulder of the Chiss. The Hybrid shifted his weight, pivoted upon his left foot and swiped fast, a cut that narrowly missed Rhylance’s cheek. The Hybrid’s eyes shone with thinly veiled mirth. “For someone not given to combat, you are reading my attacks splendidly.”

The Taldryan Consul cursed, levelled his peacemaker at his opponent. Finger frozen on the trigger, he felt the point of Mune’s sword pressed almost gently to his throat. It was strangely intimate, the shorter Hybrid in close, sword placed to deal a fatal cut. All Rhylance had to do, he knew, was pull the trigger and he would likewise take out the rollmaster, his peacemaker aimed to take the lightly armoured Seer full in the chest.

Neither moved. Their breath slow and even, eyes locked, an impish grin teasing at the Hybrid’s lips. The Chiss’ features were schooled into a mask of calm, apathetic to the situation, or so he would have it appear.

“So, you are going to play the part of the assassin, Cinteroph?” Rhylance questioned.

“It is what I had been, well before I found myself mantled in the robes of the Brotherhood.”

“Then it is a choice.”

“Is there ever truly a choice? We are manipulated. It is a game, twisted and grotesque, but a game nonetheless.” Mune explained softly.

Rhylance blinked, his finger itched upon the trigger. The savannah held its breath around them, not a blade of grass rustled, nor animal utter a sound. He could not help but feel the other man’s observations, awfully astute. Am I being manipulated? The Chiss’ mind went over the data, sifting through recent events one after another.

“Interesting hypothesis, Mune.”

“Isn’t it?”

“You are mistaken, however, I am not so easily manipulated as that.” Rhylance asserted firmly.

Mune felt the mild tremor in his sword arm. The standoff could not go on much longer, he was well aware. He detected clearly the quiver in the Chiss’ finger upon the trigger. He had one advantage the Commander did not.

Rhylance caught the shift in Seer’s attention and fired. The barrier was unmistakable in that moment, realization dawning upon the Chiss. Mune had drawn upon the Force not to attack but to defend against what he ascertained the Commander would do, given the slightest opportunity. He misread the Seer’s intention and found himself open in his seconds of surprise.The Seer took the opening, the Force coiled within a palm. A shudder ran through the soil and grass, the savannah come to life all at once. He thrust the Force forward in his free hand to strike with the intent of a vicious blow to the Chiss’ gut.

Rhylance threw himself sideways. He felt the attack brush his side, spinning him to crash without any grace whatsoever to the ground. The soil exploded behind him, grass and earth whipped into the sky. Clumps of dirt rained down upon them, clouds of dust obscuring their vision. Mune’s breath was audibly heavier. Rhylance could only guess at the damage it would have done had he not evaded most of the attack He could not see being so lucky a second time.

Mune breathed heavily. The Arcanist took advantage of the dust obscuring them both, to channel the Force. He had to be ready for the Chiss’ counter attack.

Rhylance fought to stand up. His side throbbed in pain from constant abuse, first the skin separated by durasteel, second the bruising around his ribs from the Force Users last attack. This battle was not going his way, and he knew that danger would soon be upon them both. Shili was not known for it’s friendly fauna.

Surrounded by a cloud of dust, Rhylance knew he could attempt a counter attack against Mune, but he needed to survive. Killing his opponent, or even disabling him would be challenging enough without these injuries. With them it would be a near impossibility. His only chance at this point was to turn coat and run.

The Chiss stumbled through the trees. He needed medical attention. That thought alone made him laugh causing his ribs more pain. Forcing himself to keep running, Rhylance was sure Mune was following him, but how closely he couldn’t be sure of at the moment. The Medic was tiring fast. He knew he couldn’t keep this up, especially as blood continued to seep out of his open wound.

Dropping to his knees the Chiss put his back against one of the nearby trees. He opened his medical kit and found his supply of bacta. This would not be a complete fix, but hopefully it would be enough to save his life. Pulling out a syringe, he filled the tube with the glowing blue liquid. Rhylance took the needle and carefully inserted it into his side, amidst the bruising. One of his ribs had clearly broken as the needle bumped bone where bone shouldn’t be. Wincing in pain that nearly overloaded his concentration, he tilted the needle away from the rib and slowly pushed it in more. Once is position, he injected the bacta into his body and felt the cold soothing liquid take away a majority of the pain.

After sitting for a moment and taking in the relief he was now feeling, Rhylance put the syringe away before pulling out a small towel, and a spray canister filled with bacta. Removing his coat and laying it on the ground, the Chiss pulled up his shirt to examine the cut. It was still bleeding and he needed to stop it. He took the towel and wiped away the blood, clearing his vision of the cut before it was covered with his DNA again. Quickly he activated the spray canister and aimed the nozzle at his cut. In a mist the bacta flew out and clung to his skin, soothing the damage and temporarily sealing the cut.

Exhausted Rhylance laid his head back against the tree. Silence reigned around him as he took in the wilderness around him. This planet was the perfect construct of Science and the Force. The sounds the wind moving through the trees and the noises of the fauna around him. It was serenity.

And then it wasn’t. Panic spread through him as he realized he hadn’t heard the sounds of Fauna. It was quiet, so very quiet. There was no sound, save for the slight growling he could hear in the long red grasses ahead of him. Grabbing a hold of the tree Rhylance pushed himself to his feet. He needed to think of a solution, and he needed it now. And then there was pain as a blue light ripped through his gut. Looking down he saw the blade of a lightsaber barely poking through his blue skin. And then it was gone and he fell forward to the ground, rolling onto his back.

Mune walked out from behind the tree and knelt down, looking into his eyes grinning. Rhylance had lost and there was no escaping his demise. He knew that. He accepted that his death meant the loss of his life’s work. There would be no one to continue in his place. His precious specimens would never see the experiments he planned.

“Where is your science to help you now, Taldryan” The victor asked with a slight sneer.

“Oh science never loses...It is everywhere,” The Chiss choked as he chuckled. “You’re not getting off this planet alive.”

“What? And why may I ask is that?”

“Because...you are no longer...the hunter.” The Chiss laughed before the light left his eyes.

Mune didn’t understand what the Chiss had meant. He stayed over the body, and then he noticed the silence. And then he heard the growling that sent fear into his heart.

Rhylance scanned the clouds of dust. “You are no random member of Scholae Palatinae.” The chiss referenced their earlier discussion. He felt the pain spread through the left side of his body. He had not landed well he noted the throbbing in his left arm specifically. He hoped to distract the Seer from outright killing him by engaging him once more in conversation, perhaps even convince him to stay his hand. “I hoped we would meet and knew the eventuality of it happening.”

“So, you knew our paths would eventually converge,” Mune queried.

Rhylance could see the Seer was only a few meters distant as the dust settled. Mune’s breathing had levelled out and he looked as though the tussle had not happened. The Arcanist had restored enough of his fortitude to appear unphased and ready to carry on what they had began.

“I know enough from your file to know you do not kill without good reason.”

“Mm… Are you confident in that conclusion?” Mune grinned impishly.

“I am.You do not let others influence your way of thinking. I’ve read much about the events leading to your absence,” Rhylance explained.

Mune’s eyes narrowed. He often forgot just how much other leaders may be aware of. He thought his disappearance had left him forgotten. It had seemed as such, for a time. The Palatinaean tested the weight of the sword resting in his right hand, and eyed his opponent wearily. “Is it I that has been doing the stalking, or the other way around? You are aware of more than I’d have given you credit for.”

“No need to be prickly,” Rhylance assured.

Mune chuckled, his eyes alight with pleasure. “Rhylance. You know my mission is to kill you.”

The Commander drew himself to his full height. Blood continued to well form the cut to his ribs. The aches of his body made him wince. The Inquisitorius? The Chiss eyed the man. The realization of the possibility did nothing to boost his confidence. Yet, Mune did not make to move in and finish him off. Is he just playing with me then? he wondered.

The fox eared man eyed his opponent, “I did not come here to kill you. Mess with you some, yes. Though the cusp of it is I came to… suggest... you rethink who it is you ally yourself with.”

Rhylance almost laughed out loud but managed to school his features to sternness. “As Consul of Clan Taldryan, I do what is best for my clan.”

“Then your judgement is poor, friend.”

“You are a horrible liar, friend,” Rhylance stressed the final word.

The Chiss lifted his blaster in his right hand, having kept its presence hidden at his side.

Mune beckoned the Force, a surge of power through his muscles. Before Rhylance could fire, Mune was in motion. A bolt whipped by overhead, the Hybrid rolled and thrust. The speed at which he moved proved impossible for Rhylance to follow. He knew the moment the Hybrid’s sword plunged through his thigh that he had made a mistake. The durasteel slid through the meat of his thigh effortlessly. The vibroblade cut clean and straight through to the other side. The pain was like fire, pregnant and swollen, that engulfed his mind.

Rhylance screamed, and the blaster fell from his fingers.

Mune pivoted, the sword left in the thigh of the pained Commander. His second sword drawn, he was at the man’s back in a fluid motion. The tip of the blade pressed firmly between his shoulder blades. Cloth split and blood began a slow path along the vicious edge. Mune however did not drive the weapon home. The coppery scent sickeningly sweet upon the air, teased at their nostrils. The blood ran in ugly red rivulets down the protruding length of the weapon left in the flesh of the Chiss. Feverish, Rhylance gasped for breath and turned his head.

“Do it...”

The Palatinaean withdrew the sword and sheathed it. “No. That wound should leave you with plenty to think on.” The Chiss screamed again when Mune withdrew his first sword. Already, he heard the approach of the native predators. The Hybrid grinned, “Better take care of that before the savannah takes care of you.” He turned away from the Taldryan Consul, “If you survive, think carefully what you do next. A war is coming.”

The Palatinaean Rollmaster made his retreat.