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.

After spending some time recently on a desert world, this planet was almost the exact opposite: an entire world of swamps and mountains. Planets like this always reminded him of his first big battle as a soldier, and Dante had always enjoyed the environment anytime a deployment sent him to a water based world. As he sloshed slowly through the knee high swamp, he wished that he could go back to just being a trooper again without having the Force as part of his life. For the first 17 years of his life, the Palpatine had lived blissfully unaware of all that went on around him in the galaxy. Now 23 years later, he was searching out artifacts and Force-sensitive resistance members on behalf of the Grand Master of the Dark Brotherhood. Thinking that last bit over again, it reminded him of how his father had been killed, and, oddly enough, that thought served to strengthen him rather than distract him from the mission.

Fog drifted over the Dathomiri landscape as Dante crept closer to the coordinates that he had been transmitted to him by the Iron Throne. The red haze that surrounded him was a bit discomforting, but each world had its own uniqueness, and this was definitely a world unto itself. The water was getting shallower, and, luckily, the objective seemed to be on a small island at the center of this small swamp.

From a distance of about 100 meters, another former Stormtrooper lay in wait with his silenced rifle at the ready. Garrlan had arrived a few hours earlier and had set up his shelter and shooting position as he had scouted out a good place with a very open field of fire. From this spot, he could see the target location without any obstacles in his way. The kill zone was fairly good, and there was cover and concealment from a counterattack. Once his nest was prepared, he formulated his assault plan and his withdrawal plan in case this attack went poorly. The coordinates that he had been sent through the Lotus chain had been accurate so far, and Garrlan assumed that his target would be approaching sooner rather than later. The dossier on his mark was pretty thin as if this guy had appeared out of nowhere just a few years ago, but his father had been a pretty big deal from what he’d read.

Now, Garrlan could see his target as the large man dressed in the black and red armor of the Grand Master’s Royal Guard emerged from the water and moved onto the island before him. Through the site on his blaster rifle, the Arconan tracked his enemy as the armored figure slowly, but methodically, looked for something at his feet. Disengaging the safety with a quick flick of his thumb, the Major took a deep breath then released half of it as he zeroed in on his mark.

Kell stooped down to pick up something just as he felt another presence within the Force. On instinct, Dante hit the ground as quickly as he good as a blaster bolt impacted the tree next to him. “Great…” he muttered as more blaster rounds poured into his position. Dante swung his rifle around to his hands and looked through the scope. Sniper. 100 meters away. Silenced blaster. His hands gripped the rifle tighter as he flipped the selector switch to microgrenades, and the Palpatine took aim and popped off two grenades at the enemy’s position.

As soon as he heard the “thump” sound, the Arconan knew he couldn’t stay in his initial ambush position any longer. Rolling out of his nest just in time, the grenades tore through where he had just spent the last few hours. Garrlan decided to press the attack rather than retreat. Following his plan to the tee, the Arconan trooper got to his feet and began laying down suppressive fire as he ran from his sniper position to a large stone that was at the water’s edge.

The head of the Scholae ground forces low crawled to another set of tree roots to his right as the blaster bolts tore into the branches above his head. Even though his opponent was firing as he was moving, the concentrated fire was impressive. “This guy is good,” Kell muttered as he tossed a flash grenade in the general direction of the incoming trooper and then moved further into the swamp.

GRENADE! Garrlan’s brain reported distance and guessed at the possible lethal range of a couple different varieties of grenade based on shape and size as he dove --

The flash grenade went off just as he turned his head away. The concussion slapped his body midflight, sending him sprawling on his side rather than the anticipated belly flop, and he found himself trying to blink away afterimages in the left side of his field of vision. The fact that he had almost managed to turn his head away had helped, as did his helmet, but his eyes were still dazzled slightly. Not waiting further, Garrlan pushed himself to his feet and followed his mental map of the area to another rock. His E-22 rifle spat chips of ruby light in his opponent’s direction, even as Dante returned fire.

The commando’s mind raced as he dropped behind a tree in a patch of shallow water. Tactic One for taking down a Force-sensitive, ambush, was a bust. It was, historically, the most effective, but worked best with large groups of soldiers. Tactic Two was also a no-go, as Garrlan didn’t have fire support to perform saturation bombardment of the area. Tactic Three, explosives and sustained blaster fire, was a possibility. He reached to his belt, snatched the fragmentation grenade off it, thumbed the trigger, and counted off a second and a half before he moved to hurl it at the other man.

Dante saw the man in black scout trooper armor pop out of cover and took aim from behind his own boulder, but instead of firing he saw the other man throw something. Assuming it was a hand grenade, he concentrated briefly and flipped a hand, sending it arcing away from either of them before it exploded. Dante bent his head back down to take aim and cursed as more blaster fire forced him to duck back behind his rock. He growled slightly, and felt the Force swirl around him in response to his emotions. Time to end this, he thought, setting his rifle aside and unhooking his lightsaber.

Garrlan kept up his fire and started evaluating the terrain for his next move. Sooner or later his opponent would go for the lightsaber he’d seen hanging from his belt. At that point the Major knew he would be in trouble and it would be time to execute an escape plan. Garrlan started to curse mentally when he heard the distinctive snap-hiss and saw a purple plasma blade appear, and start to swat aside blaster bolts.

It was at that point that his rifle decided to register its discontent with its near-constant use and stopped firing. The indicator lights on the control box started blinking in a pattern that Garrlan unconsciously translated as “overheat warning,” and the mental curses started to flow faster and with more creativity. Letting the E-22 dangle by its sling, Garrlan snatched his more modern sidearm from its holster and started pegging shots at the oncoming man.

Dante walked forward, speeding up slightly as the flow of blaster bolts lessened as Garrlan made the switch from rifle to pistol. His lightsaber kept moving in sweeping arcs, catching and deflecting the blaster fire away. He made no effort yet to try and redirect the bolts at Garrlan, but allowed none to slip past his guard.

Garrlan’s off hand slipped down to his belt as he kept his mental focus on placing shots in a precise pattern around Dante. He wanted to keep that lightsaber busy, moving from side to side and around the blue armored man for as long as possible as he backed away. As he passed a particularly large tree the Arconan started firing faster. He wasn’t being quite as precise in his shot placement now, but Garrlan wanted to keep his focus on his shooting and his opponent’s on deflecting the shots. He kept his brain engaged in the pattern of his shots as much as possible, and not about what his left hand was doing until...

Garrlan’s hand swept back up and tossed the flashbang that he’d palmed in between the two men. The former storm commando stopped firing as he dove for cover behind the tree and closed his eyes, waiting for the grenade to go off as he slipped the pistol back into its holster and took hold of his rifle one more time.

One last effort would decide this fight, he knew.

Seeing the grenade arc through the air, Kell immediately sent it straight back towards its owner.

It flew past Garrlan and splashed into the water about 5 meters behind him. Normally, that wouldn't have produced anything other than some residual noise and glare, but the density of the water increased the power of the charge exponentially. It went off with what seemed a whimper to the two men above the water. Below the surface, however, the compression shock wave raced through the more dense substance until it reached the back of Garrlan's legs.

The Arconan didn't have a chance to react audible sounds of cracking bones were produced as the heavy impact off the underwater wave wreaked havoc on the Major's lower legs and feet. Feeling as if a sledge hammer had laid waste to his lower extremities, he immediately dropped backwards into the marshy water, but the officer managed to keep his right hand on his rifle as he frantically tried to get his medpac out and applied to his legs.

With his opponent down on his back and not returning fire yet, Kell accelerated quickly to try and close the distance between the two combatants. He timed his jump and pushed off into the air about 10 meters from his target as Garrlan tried to fire his rifle with one hand to try and keep suppression fire up in Kell's general direction from the Arconan's supine position.

Grunting in pain as he moved, Garrlan managed to get the medpac applied and then flopped over onto to side of the tree trunk that he had been hiding behind. The roots made it difficult for him to get a good position, but he brought his rifle back to bear on where he thought the target should be. A shadow appeared to his right, and Garrlan knew it was the end.

Kell had landed almost on top of the wounded man, and the Adept swung his purple blade downward onto the blaster rifle Sparks flew as the front half of the blaster rifle flew off.

Standing over the Arconan, Kell smirked slightly and said “Good job, but not good enough.”

The Adept sent an augmented kick into the man's face just as he looked up. The matte black scout helmet went flying into the marsh, and the Arconan's world went black.

Dante flipped the enemy soldier over and pulled out the cuffs that he had received from the Justicar. Pulliing the man's arms together behind his back, Kell slapped them onto the man's wrists.

“Stay....” the Adept said as he headed back to his original mission of finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. After a few minutes of walking and searching, Kell managed to find his prize: a small box hidden under a series of small rocks in the shape of a Xesh.

Dante picked up the small box and said “All of this in the name of the Grand Master... kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?” with a smile before heading back to find his prisoner.

His opponent was still unconscious, but Kell gave him another boot to the head just in case. He didn't want the trooper waking up before he made it back to the ship. “Now, let's go have a little chat with one of my aides....”

The plan, inasmuch as Garrlan had a plan at the moment, was simple. The stun grenade would degrade Dante’s abilities to deflect incoming blaster bolts. In that window, Garrlan would be able to land some solid hits on the Force-user, at the very least slowing them down if not outright incapacitating or killing him. In either case, the mission was a bust, and the Arconan commando would withdraw and signal for a hot extraction at a nearby prearranged landing zone. And given what Garrlan had seen so far, it was a logical plan.

However, the Major had missed the Adept using the Force to deflect the earlier grenade he’d used having immediately taken cover against the flash grenade, he didn’t expect nor did he see Dante send it flying away as well. In fact, his first indication that things were going very, very wrong was when the purple lightsaber blade swept through the tree he was waiting behind, cutting it down and very nearly giving Garrlan a lethal haircut.

Spitting a curse, Garrlan rolled and came to a knee. His rifle snapped up into position even as his finger squeezed the trigger. The first two bolts were batted aside by the Force-user’s lightsaber. The third bolt Dante simply stepped aside, bringing his lightsaber down to slice the front of the barrel assembly off the rifle, disabling the weapon. The Arconan swung his brand-new club clumsily at the Elder, forcing the other man back a step to avoid taking a jab from the still-hot metal. Kharoc used the momentum of the swing to slip the sling from around his body, got up onto both feet, and pulled his sidearm again, shooting from the hip and as he raised the weapon to eye level.

Dante took another step or two back as he focused again on defense. The black-armored commando was proving his marksmanship again with the smaller weapon, but it wouldn’t save him. Focusing between shots, Dante thrust a hand at the Arconan, sending a blast of Force energy at the man and throwing him from his feet. Garrlan rolled with the fall and tried to pick himself back up, but Dante held his hand out again and called on the Force. Blue-white lightning leapt from the extended limb, and the commando’s world was suddenly reduced to nothing but pain.

How long it lasted, Garrlan didn’t know. Seconds, hours… it was all the same eternity. The Major tried to force his body to respond to his brain’s instructions to get to his feet and fight, goddammit, but he knew that there wasn’t much he could do. He managed to get to a knee and raise his arm, his hand still shaking from the electricity that had recently coursed through him. His blaster was, miraculously, still in his hand, and he convulsed, his finger depressing one last time on the trigger. The shot went wide, no threat to anyone. Dante flicked his wrist and the blaster ripped itself away from the soldier’s grip, violently enough that it left his index finger twisted unnaturally. The pain from the dislocated joint barely registered as Garrlan panted, still without the strength to do more than wait for Dante to approach.

Dante walked up slowly, blade in hand. He spoke the first words either man had said in this fight: “Do you have any final messages to send?” Dante actually was willing to offer the man, who had certainly fought well enough, that courtesy.

Garrlan looked at his injured hand, and couldn’t help but start to chuckle as he could only think of one thing to say, and it was so stupid. He found he didn’t care, though. He looked up at the other man, wondering what expression was hidden behind the blue helmet. Wondered if the other man knew what was behind his. He held up his hand. “Pull my finger.”

Dante couldn’t help but smirk at the joke, even as he raised his lightsaber.

The blade came down.