Holovids have replayed the conclusion of the Grand Master’s Invitational Tournament where Turel Sorenn and Timeros Ceasus Entar Arconae battled within the remains of the Dark Hall.

Echoes of the past haunt the now desolate graveyard of a planet. Wild winds whip through the hollow landscape with harrowing howls, a sense of death and finality hanging heavy in the air. This aura is neither dark or light, but stands as living effigy to the destructive power a sole individual unleashed on an entire system.

Once, Antei had served as the seat of the Dark Jedi Brotherhood's power. As a result of an ancient Ritual of destruction invoked by Grand Master Muz Ashen, the entire planet is now no more than a barren wasteland. Charred buildings have been reduced to rubble, but ash flutters into the wind from the embers of fires that seem to burn in eternal requiem. A dark energy still lingers, and at its center, rests the once great temple known as the Dark Hall.

The Dark Hall itself is one of the only few structures to defy the full might of the Ritual. The ruins and remains around it are littered with decay. Tall spires have been toppled and withered with corrosion from the planet's periodic dust storms. The Dark Hall’s interior is mired with collapsed pillars and door frames. The last remnants of life are scattered and covered in layers of ash: broken furniture, fractured machinery and combusted equipment littering the apocalyptic palette of grays and greens. The stairways leading down into the subterranean levels are missing whole sections, and some simply lead to dead ends. The crypts below have been ransacked and scavenged, sarcophagi upturned and left with a mixture of mummified corpses and empty caskets.

Beyond this, scouting reports still vary when the topic of Force apparitions and ghosts is broached.

Proceed at your own risk.

Legorii stood with the ghosts. Some were his. Some were not. Some weren’t ghosts at all. It wasn’t his first graveyard, after all. A shiver went down his spine all the same, and he tugged his Shadesworn robes tighter. He had come in search of answers. It seemed that he was always searching, these days.

He was not alone among the rubble. He saw her before she saw him, but surely she’d expected him. Or, if not him, someone like him. His crimson gaze followed her as she rose from the dust, picking her way across the broken hall. Some weren’t ghosts at all. She was tall, with a grace that belied her danger, yet slim. Even in the low light, Legorii could see the twin hilts gleaming at her hips. He didn’t know her, and she wouldn’t know him. Not anymore. She wasn’t his answer, but she’d be his distraction.

Alara Deathbane sensed him before she saw him, but pretended otherwise. While Legorii searched, she hunted. He was as much an apparition as the others, but the Arconan sigil on his breast was unmistakable. Eventually, she halted. Though he hadn’t moved, he was watching her. Alara’s ears pricked up as she regarded him. Anzati.

“What’s an Arconan doing in the Dark Hall?” Her voice carried through the Brotherhood’s foremost mausoleum, firm but somehow small. For a few moments, Legorii didn’t respond. Then, he chuckled. A dry rasp. An unnerving sound on any field of battle. And they both knew that they stood on a field of battle.

“Is this still the Dark Hall? It doesn’t look it.” Legorii stepped forward, the shadows falling from his scarred face. Alara shifted her weight, eyeing him. Then, she nodded.

“Are we going to exchange pleasantries?” Alara’s left hand strayed toward the hilt of one of her lightsabers, as if answering her own question.

Legorii smiled, but his eyes did not. “Scholae Palatinae, is it? Tell me, are you afraid of ghosts?”

Alara’s amber eyes narrowed at the slight. “I’ve made more ghosts than even those that surely haunt you, Arconan. What’s one more?”

Legorii’s smile widened. “What’s one more, indeed. This is what they want from us. Let’s not disappoint them.” His hand dropped to the steel of his lightsaber. Before he’d unclipped it from his belt, the woman was in motion. She moved gracefully over and around fallen pillars, the dust swirling about her ankles. The burnt orange of her blade swayed with the long braid of hair that fell across her shoulder. As her second blade sprang to life, Legorii’s own weapon crackled into existence.

Her momentum carrying her, Alara swung her blades in a tight arc. Legorii met her, blocking both with more effort than he’d have admitted. Out of practice. The half-Sephi’s lithe framed twisted as her momentum brought her past her opponent. Legorii’s counterattack bit nothing but air. Pivoting, Alara stayed low, thrusting one of her lightsabers at the Anzat’s knee. He stepped out of the way, bringing Soulflayer around to deflect the second weapon.

While the two traded blows, Legorii could all but see the gears turning in Alara’s mind. He suppressed a smile. Let her think. The serenity that she had shown mere moments before was gone. Imminent death had a funny way of showing one’s true colors. With her whirling blades, the girl kept up a steady assault. Legorii refocused his attention on deflecting those twin lightsabers. Then, as quickly as the melee had begun, it stopped.

The two broke apart, once again regarding one another. Their chests heaved slightly, each taking pains to hide the exertion. “Who let you have two lightsabers? You’re more apt to hurt yourself than me,” Legorii taunted. His eyes darted past Alara, scanning the broken landscape for an advantage. His gaze lingered on a nearby staircase, littered with wreckage, descending into darkness.

It was Alara’s turn to ignore him. Her eyes flashed, fiery and fierce. She had her plan. Turning, she bounded toward the stairs, her braid bobbing behind her. Immediately, Legorii gave chase. But as she ran, the dark hues of her cloak began to blend with the ruined hall. By the time the Arconan had reached the top of the staircase, she’d disappeared into the darkness below.

Damn it, Alara! You just had to jump into a fight with a 290 year old Arconan! Alara’s inner voice hissed in her mind’s ear. She would have spit on the ground if it weren’t for the fact that a crazy Anzat was making his way to her location. She knew she couldn’t hide for long.

The Sephi hugged the cobble of what was left of a hallway and focused hard on blending in with her surroundings. She blended in just enough to get by, but it wouldn’t last for long. However, this didn’t bother Alara. It was just enough help to keep her hidden long enough to pull out her energy bow from its quiver under her cloak. She inhaled deeply, hugged towards the wall, lifted her bow in the ready position, and shot a blast as soon as she sighted his grayish figure coming up the steps. The bolt went towards Legorii, but zipped right past his right shoulder and made impact with the far wall.

KARK! I missed! Alara growled at herself and her mistake as she ran further into the shadows. She couldn’t help but gulp dramatically at the thought of what would come next. The Sephi could sense impending doom.

C’mon, ‘Lara… You’re better than this. Show this bloody fool of an Arconan what he’s messing with when he challenges Scholae Palatinae… She quickly flung her bow over her shoulder.

The Anzat’s chuckle could be heard echoing through the hall. The she-Marauder readied her palms and lifted them into the air for her next attack. Her head tossed side-to-side in preparation. The Warlord turned the corner to face her and let out another burst of laughter at the sight of her position.

“Can’t quite make up your mind on how you plan to face me, can you?” Legorii smirked devilishly.

“A battle is about learning your opponent and besting them with the knowledge they give you,” Alara retorted, “It doesn’t take me much to learn what kind of a fighter you are.”

“What can I say? If the Force doesn’t warn you of my tenacity, I’m sure that my shape and figure will.” Legorii lifted his hands up and gestured to himself.

“Your pride is rather distracting.” Alara spoke sternly. “Let’s see how your tenacity reacts to a bit of electricity…”

Alara stretched her palms forward and summoned electric current to flow through her fingertips. A crack of purple hue shot towards the Krath, but was deflected by the emerald saber her enemy wielded. Legorii let out another laugh and slapped his knee at his combatant’s feeble attempt. The Aedile took this opportunity and ran for cover before her opponent could come after her.

Well, that’s obviously not going to work. Okay, ‘Lara, new plan. Alara continued through the pathway to the next large stage. Charred stone and even more broken furniture dwelled in this room and stuck out in her mind’s eye as if it was warning the Sephi of what her fate would be.

Alara tossed her head to and fro as she tried to decide her next step. Her ears flickered with contempt and frustration as she saw Legorii come closer and closer from inside the corridor.

Suddenly a shot rang through the ruined building. Alara attempted to dodge the Anzat’s blast with a quick somersault towards the right wall, but it caught her left foot in her endeavor. Searing pain shot through her leg as she moaned with aching. Her somersault abruptly ended into a pathetic and jumbled landing of loose limbs and distorted screams. She reached her foot instinctively with her hands to soothe it until she was interrupted by a large smack to her chiseled cheek from the male who followed her tracks. It tossed Alara in a flip to her side. Tears built up in her eyes, but she held them back as hard as she could. A quick roll to her side gave her just enough time to recoil away from another strike. The Savant’s frustration and competitiveness engulfed in angering flame within her gut.

“Alright pretty space elf,” Legorii cracked his knuckles and headed towards Alara’s silhouette darkened by the walls to stand over her, “Let’s see how long it takes to finish you.”

In the darkness of Antei, where the last flames of Muz Ashen had long been extinguished, fire burned anew. Alara Deathbane seethed. Her stinging cheek forgotten, she exploded outward. Diving from beneath Legorii’s shadow, she rolled through the dust and came to her feet. Pivoting, the young woman turned to face the Arconan. Then, she leapt. Her lightsabers returned to her palms, shearing the air.

Legorii, at first left in a lurch by Alara’s renewed agility, recovered. His right hand held Soulflayer aloft once more, ready. Willing. His rifle, discarded like so many others in this decaying tomb, was of no more use. Legorii met the half-Sephi’s charge, standing firm, a solitary rock in the face of a tornado of kinetic energy. A haze of gold, emerald, and apricot illuminated sweat-slicked faces. Alara’s lightsabers thundered against Legorii’s, crashing like waves on an outcropping. As futile as waves crashing on an outcropping, too. Perhaps, given another century, the result would be different. Instead, the only erosion was of Alara’s confidence.

“At least,” Legorii hissed through clenched teeth as he parried another twirling slash, “your corpse…” He trailed off, ducking beneath a scything tangerine blade and stepping toward Alara with his own riposte, before finishing, “won’t have far to go.” His Anzati features curled into a sneer as he stepped back, allowing the girl a brief moment of respite. “You’re already in a graveyard.”

Alara’s eyes darted from side to side. Like a caged dog, her desperation only made her more dangerous. When it became clear that she wasn’t going to respond, Legorii chuckled. “Oh, lighten up, Alara. It was a joke. There’ll be nothing left of you to bury.” Sweeping her braid behind her, Alara set her shoulders. Her lightsabers hung freely at her sides, their tips trailing through the grime.

The hall moved. A cracked beam, fallen from the lofty heights it once occupied, roused itself from the floor and hurtled toward Alara. Drawn to her like an insect to flame. Amber eyes widening, Alara threw herself to the side, rolling in the dirt once more. Legorii’s off hand dropped back to his side, the Dark Side momentarily ebbing within him. He pressed his advantage, pursuing the young woman as she scrambled backwards. Seizing the offensive, he worked Soulflayer side to side, maneuvering Alara toward a far corner of the antechamber they now occupied.

For a few minutes, they fought to an impasse. But with each passing moment, Legorii’s impatience grew. A fury mounted within him. The Dark Side clung to every muscle fiber, every swollen artery. Finally, he broke through. A sweeping uppercut battered aside one of Alara’s sabers. Her elbow buckled. The gap in her defenses enabled the Arconan to step closer. His left fist connected with her cheekbone, sending her sprawling. One of her lightsabers clattered away and fizzled out.

Legorii did not let up. Alara attempted to keep him at bay, desperately slashing at him from the ground. With near-suicidal abandon, the Anzat threw himself on top of the smaller woman. Her lightsaber clipped his right shoulder, peeling back skin and muscle, before his knee pinned her wrist to the ground. Grimacing, the Arconan leaned in. Alara felt as though the entire weight of the Dark Hall had descended upon her.

The Anzat’s probosces, fleshy tendrils more common in nightmares than reality, snaked toward Alara Deathbane. Her breath caught in her throat. Her fingers, already denied oxygenated blood by the Arconan’s knee, twitched helplessly. Her amber eyes closed, as Alara gave herself over to the Dark Side. She reached out. The probosces descended, eager for another tortured soul.

A klaxon sounded in the depths of Legorii’s consciousness. A warning. Alara’s last ploy. Her purple fingers were reunited with the lightsaber hilt with which they were so familiar. The Arconan had no time. As the orange blade flared into being, Legorii jerked his own weapon into her chest. It tore through flesh and bone. Her heart, shorn in two, ceased beating. Her threat had been neutralized, to the Arconan’s disgust. After all that, a waste.

Just another ghost in a hall full of them.

Legorii stood, brushing dust from his robes. He reached for his comlink. “Give her my apologies. This one knew nothing of Pravus.” A pause. “I was denied a chance at a more...thorough investigation.”

Alara’s Sephi ears twitched violently with the snap of Legorii’s green saber coming to life.

Alara! You can’t just give up now… What would Jorm say?

She knew her boyfriend would be rather shocked at her actions in this battle. She was never one to run away from an opponent. However, she knew she had never faced anyone like this enemy before.

How could I do it though? How could I defeat him? My foot has been shot…

With a deep inhale, the Aedile summoned all her courage and strength to push against the pain.

With one last holler of hope, the Sephi stumbled to her feet and quickly clipped her orange saber off her belt and ignited it just in time to catch the green plasma nearing her chiseled face.

“Going to give up so fast?” he voiced his mockery and sneering. The Anzat’s eyes locked with hers which only awoke a fire in her heart.

Deathbane exerted further power into her arms and shoved the Arconan back just enough to give her some more breathing room. He struck again with a downward swing which Alara hopped away from, but not without price. The sting of her wound shot through her back and vibrated through her spine which caused a cry to drip off of her lips. The spike of pain crippled her down to the wall once again.

Legorii chuckled and stood over his prey, his scarlet eyes were already scanning for the perfect murder strike. Alara pitifully stared up at him with her dulling amber eyes. She swallowed her fear and tears as much as she could to keep eye contact while her shoulders rose up and down repeatedly in her struggle to breathe.

The Krath’s lips cracked into a smile as he threw his blade to the floor. “Any last words, love?”

Alara said nothing and kept her glare towards the figure as hard as she could. Her vision began to swarm with water, blackness, and piercing red eyes that saw right through her skin. She felt like she was a wounded stag of some sort; just waiting for the predator to strike her down and finish her off. Anger, swelling hatred, and sorrow clouded her imagination as she tried to accept her fate and not worry about what would happen next.

“Alright, then. So be it.”

I’m sorry Jorm. I’m so sorry, Shadow.

With a quick wink and a kiss on his own fist, he swung as hard as he possibly could. Alara’s world immediately fell into a blackness. Her blood slowed as her brain grew heavy with the illusion of falling. She tried her best to grasp what consciousness she could, but it slipped away from her rapidly. The Savant didn’t even have the chance to call out for help.