The library was designed to look ancient. Old architecture. Cold, grey brick. High arches and a vaulted, domed ceiling. Wrought-iron sconces hang from the walls to provide light, flickering with real flames. It had all been crafted to hide the fact that the Academy was less than two decades old. The lower level is rectangular, twice as long as it is wide. The middle is filled with chairs and tables, where students study. On either side, large wooden bookshelves hold tomes of knowledge accessible to all members of the Brotherhood. In the center of the floor stands a monument to Jedgar Octavius Paladin, the founder of the first Shadow Academy.

By taking one of the two main staircases on the North and South sides of the library, one can access the second floor. The two sides of the upper level are connected by stone pathways, and the first floor was completely visible below. The upper level held fewer tomes, but contained more advanced knowledge. Often, it's used by students who required silence and introspection for their studies.

Despite the solemn purpose of the library, fights still break out between the students, who always seek to prove themselves against their peers. Punishment awaits those who damage the library, but rarely do instructors step in to stop the fights. Students usually watch in interest, or place bets on the combatants, glad for the show to break up the monotony of their studies

You know you will have to answer for your transgressions, but you can no longer contain the desire to fight. You listen to the whispers as the other students place bets, but you can also sense those who might ally with or against you. The Academy may be a place of neutrality, but it was hard to leave loyalty to your House at the door. You brush your thumb over your weapon, focusing on your opponent as tables clear around you. There is no turning back now…

The icy, sinking feeling of horror took hold of the Hapan deep in the pit of his stomach. His senses flared into alert and the adrenal glands were bursting at every synapse. “How can this be?” thought Zagro Fenn, bewilderment clearly visible on his cheeks. Across the tome studded and elaborately stoic library sat the erect and ambivalent visage of a soul presumed dead. “I severed his damn femoral artery and watched him bleed out like a hunted wampa.”

Draped in scholarly robes of rich tapestry and fine workmanship sat the ephemeral Kor Vaal. The Kel Dor was immersed in an ancient manuscript scribed in thin parchment and straining to decipher its secrets. It took him a full ten seconds of overwhelming silence to ascertain that his table of fellow students had cleared the way and were eyeing with apprehension the Krath clad in the robes of a Shadow Academy researcher. Prideful as ever and still not alert to his dire peril, Kor Vaal glanced up without betraying a shred of visible emotion. “What in the name of Antei are you doing here?” came the inquisitive remark from the seated Kel Dor.

Palpable animosity and anxiety filled the dim and tepid library as students braced against bookshelves and slowly congregated towards the far stairwells. One by one, the academics marched up to the overlooking galley and were soon visible with their hands on the railings and outstretched heads vying to get a better vantage point of the coming maelstrom.

“It should be you giving me an answer to that very same question. I saw you die you Sithspawn!” shouted the angry Zagro Fenn. Anger and a speckling of jealousy filled the heart of the Krath as he sized up the one-time friend, and now bitter enemy. The Hapan was filled with mixed emotions on seeing the man he had killed sitting in his line of sight; regret, rage, fear, curiosity.

The Kel Dor slowly rose, pushing the heavy wooden chair behind him with his outstretched right arm, the left arm hidden beneath his robes. Before Kor could take a step in either direction Zagro drew down on him with a concealed BlasTech DL-44 tucked away from underneath his robes. “That is far enough,” firmly stated the Hapan, waiting for the critical answers to his current conundrum.

“Put that damn pistol away before you get hurt, Hapan.” Kor Vaal stated the words with bitterness and implied derision, enunciating the Krath’s species in an elaborate and elongated fashion. “Needless to say you were not thorough enough in our last encounter. I see whatever it was on that data-pad you stole has given you a king’s reward. Researchers’ robes? For one so new to the Shadow Academy?”

Eyeing his prey with uncertainty, Zagro took a slight step forward. “The knowledge I gained from that mission allowed me to evolve. It allowed me to learn so much about the Brotherhood and the various Orders and the esoteric arts. It allowed me to grow and frankly, Kor, it has allowed me to surpass you.”

Unsure of his next action, Kor expressed his own puzzlement. He took a few idle moments to turn his attention to the galley above and surmised there was a strong chance the Hapan would not strike him down in cold blood in the view of so many witnesses. The Shadow Academy was deemed a neutral territory under the control of the hegemony of Antei. That this sacred place of learning should become a battleground for two brothers of the same House was unthinkable to most of the assembled spectators. “Zagro, I was just following orders as were you. My brief was to allow you to gain the data-pad and then to return it to the Rollmaster without your analysis of the contents. Your actions left me no choice,” calmly spoke the Kel Dor, his unbridled pride buckling under the current treatment.

“Since time immemorial someone has been pulling the dagger out of a friend and claiming that he was simply following orders. Has that line of reasoning ever factored into the outcome and decisions of the man facing him with a blaster? I fear it has not. Damn it Kor! You were supposed to be my friend. We were supposed to be brothers!” demanded Fenn. Anger was now radiating from the Hapan and visible sadness and regret tugging at his emotions below the elegant and esteemed robe.

Kor slowly backed up to the table behind him, never taking his eyes off of Zagro or moving his left hand and its prized content hidden behind his garments. “Zag...Zag…what are you going to do? Kill me in front of all of these people? You are a man wanted by your own people, a traitor to everyone you have ever been associated with. House Scholae Palatinae is your only salvation. Killing me will make you an outcast and above our protection. Think this carefully, if your Hapan brain can allow that!” barked Kor Vaal after the initial appeal to his adversary.

Fenn backed away as well, bracing himself against the nearest bookshelf and half lowered his blaster. “Kill you? I fear not. All Scholae Palatinae brethren have been called back to Juddeca. Caina is in open revolt and we are needed immediately for a mission to retake the Kas’im Citadel. No Kel Dor, I cannot kill you. What I have planned is worse. You will be humbled in front of all of these people in reparation from your conceited actions and arrogance when I was an Acolyte. Hopefully, your pride will heal by the time we get back to our system.” Zagro lowered his blaster to his waist and allowed it to rest near his right hip. “Draw that damn dainty chain of yours that you have been tugging on and lets get this over with.”

As the weighted bullet pulled the chain to the ground as Kor released his grasp, Fenn took a defensive stance and released the safety of his blaster.

Kor Vaal spun his chain in lazy arcs around him as he contemplated his next move. Every fibre of his being demanded vengeance for what had occurred on Nar Shadaa, his desire to lunge at his opponent almost overcoming him. But a quick glance at the Hapan's blaster helped him to keep his rage in check. He knew he needed a way to prevent Fenn drawing a bead on him while he closed the gap between them, and could see only one way. As much as it pained him, he knew what had to be done. He shifted his feet into a ready position and began to swing his weapon faster, the arcs encasing him in a silver blur. Fenn tensed up, focusing all his attention on the Kel Dor in front of him. Which was what Kor Vaal wanted. His right hand shot forward and back as he reached out with the Force, causing the massive bookcase Fenn had backed himself against to rock forwards. Not enough to topple it, but enough to cause a dozen heavy tomes to cascade down onto the Hapan. Zagro brought his arms up to ward against the falling books, momentarily distracting him from his opponent. Pushing the guilt of desecrating arcane literature from his mind, Kor Vaal took his chance, a Force empowered lunge bringing him within striking distance of his opponent and brought his chain down in a great overhead arc. Zagro recovered in time to leap to the side, the chain's weighted bullet crashing to the floor in the space he had just been occupying. He tried to bring his blaster round, but the Kel Dor spun, his chain flying in an upward arc. The chain's weight connected with the blaster, sending it skittering away under a table. Zagro had no time to react when Kor Vaal's chain came round again, taking him in the chest and forcing him to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. The Kel Dor stood over his prone opponent, the contempt radiating from him.

“How did I fall to someone like you?” Kor Vaal accented his question with a kick to Fenns chest. “You are surprised I betrayed you? You are a fool. What are friendship and brotherhood to a true follower of the dark side? Nothing but a weakness! Those robes you wear are nothing but a charade Fenn, for truly you have learned nothing!” he brought his leg back for another kick, but this time Zagro was ready for him. He caught Kor Vaals leg and rolled, the momentum taking the Kel Dor off his feet and throwing him bodily to the floor.
“Neither have you Kor,” Zagro said as he rose to his feet, drawing his knives, “It seems you still need to learn humility.”

Fenn was immediately upon his stricken foe, slow to get off the floor from the impact wrought by the force of the swinging chain. Two rapid kicks rang out seconds apart, the audible sound of leather boot on Kel Dor bone. The Hapan composed himself and backed up briefly to avail his enemy a momentous reprieve.

“Get up now! Is that all that you have for me? Pathetic. You wield a woman’s weapon and have the skeleton frame of a Vong hatchling. Get up now!” snapped Zagro.

The Kel Dor slowly raised his long, lumbering, lithe frame from the ground and faced his assailant. As he slowly started the pendulum-like, rhythmic swinging of the chain a hand gently braced his left ribcage. The Kel Dor was more susceptible to physical attacks than the Hapan had discerned from their earlier engagement on Nar Shaddaa.

“So you aren’t trying to kill me after all? You learn nothing eunuch!” bellowed Kor Vaal as he flung the full length of chain from his left palm. The weighted bullet caught Zagro across the shoulder, spinning him backwards. The Hapan ducked low to miss the returning blow as he dove headfirst at the Kel Dor.

Fenn made contact with the larger combatant’s midsection, the chained weapon rendered useless at such proximity. Kor kicked at the Hapan, missing by inches. The kinetic movement forward exposed the Kel Dor and Fenn jabbed forward with his knife. The vibro-blade stuck deeply into the hip of the taller man.

Kor Vaal swung down with both arms, pummeling the fellow Krath about the shoulders and forcing him to the ground. Vaal was lucky, the blade made contact with thick bone and no arteries were severed. Fenn had the fortitude to clench tightly on the handle of the blood slickened weapon and removed it as he crashed downward, tearing at more flesh.

Instinctually, Vaal kicked with his uninjured leg and caught Fenn in the head with an audible crunch. The trusty chain-whip was already gaining momentum as it lowered its deadly arc towards the body on the ground. It rendered a loud clinking noise as metal hit heavy stone. “An illusion?” asked Kor to himself slowly.

The Kel Dor sunk back into a defensive stance and glanced across the dour and dark library floor. Looking up it was easy to register the same puzzlement of the neophytes while the more powerful Dark Jedi smirked as if knowing an ancient secret lest their eyes betray the fabled truth.

The Hapan was nowhere to be seen. Kor circled his chain in defensive arcs methodically searching the immediate area, scanning in the Force for any sign of Zagro Fenn. “Where the hell are you Fenn! You won’t trick me with your light shows and slicer guile this time. Not here amongst other Dark Jedi will that parlor trick work!” growled Kor Vaal.

And yet nothing happened. Some of the assembled students of the Shadow Academy slowly shuffled down the stairs and took to the exits, obviating the inevitable conclusion that the Hapan had taken a dire blow and escaped to fight another engagement. Vaal continued to scan the room, his pride and anger ebbing and flowing, feeding more and more hostility through his veins and brain synapses. The Kel Dor knew this was another charade of the Hapan street urchin.

The deafening silence and palpable anxiety came crashing down with the adjacent bookshelf. Vaal spun around to witness the cascading tomes and scrolls fall to the ground and tumble aimlessly about the heavy stone floor.

“Good, now we have more room to play,” stated Fenn as he appeared on the northerly stairwell. “Your weapon gives you an unnatural advantage over my blades, I need to make you work for this kill, Vong lover!”

The Kel Dor’s rage continued to flow and build into a radiating glow of Force energy. Zagro wondered if he could provoke his adversary into making a fatal miscalculation as he had done in the factory on Nar Shaddaa.

“Damn you Fenn, fight me like a man or is that an inconsequential mark of valor for your matriarchal people? Truly you have been castrated!” came the Kel Dor’s response.

Fenn slowly backed up a stair, then another, and finally another. “Valor? That is rich coming from a bug. Scaled brute! How the Empire and the Vong were right to try to force your kind into slavery and bondage. You simply do not have the brain matter to deal with Humanoids and other evolved species. The Killiks at least have a history to their name, your kind as nothing,” slowly retorted Zagro Fen, “It must pain you to know I bested you at an inferior rank and with vast years of difference in training. Nothing will please me more than taking you back to the Imperial Winter Palace and make you my chambermaid as befits your kind.”

“Enough talk woman, time to learn some manners,” barked Kor Vaal as he charged the staircase at full speed, swinging his whip with all his Kel Dor might. As he reached Zagro Fenn he ran him through. Or so Kor Vaal thought. The Hapan yet again slunk into the shadows of the dim room.

Vaal raised his arms in adamant fury and bellowed a guttural roar, which echoed across the room and startled many of the disillusioned remaining onlookers. His rage was contained as the blade stabbed his exposed calf. Zagro appeared seated on the steps below Vaal and pulled out the right-handed blade as he hefted the left-handed blade forward.

Kor raised and swung with his left hand as hard as he could, sending the Hapan tumbling down the stairs in a forceful manner. Vaal had visible satisfaction as he saw one of his assailant’s blade skim across the stone floor and come to rest under the toppled bookshelf. Fenn attempted to get up but paused momentarily, painful grimaces gripping his face.

“Time to die Hapan. One blade left!” shouted Kor Vaal.