The Onderonian sighed to himself, glancing around the ruined halls as he adjusted the cloth mask over his nose and mouth to give his lungs some protection against the swirling ash and smoke. Somehow, the remains of this once great structure still burned as though the sacking of Antei were just yesterday. Acrid smoke drifted along the ceiling, escaping to the remnants of the upper levels through cracks and outright gaping holes in the stonework. Just from a glance, Celevon could tell that the ceiling was the furthest from being structurally sound - if anything, it could fall around his ears at any moment.

Normally, the Assassin would be the furthest he could away from the dangers of the crumbling and burning ruin. This, however, was not a normal situation. The former Quaestor of House Qel-Droma had been tasked with the mission of investigating rumors of someone close to Darth Pravus being spotted coming and going from Antei.

Celevon stepped around the remains of a footlocker half buried in ash and stopped in his tracks, listening closely. Just above the hissing and spitting of the smouldering wreckage, the Arconan could discern the faint echo of booted feet falling in a purposeful stride, occasionally muffled completely - his best guess would be the ash.

The Onderonian quietly drew one of his slugthrower revolvers, barrel aimed in the direction the footsteps were coming from. No one lived on this planet anymore, not since the former Grand Master had destroyed the surface. Antei was barren, barely capable of sustaining microscopic lifeforms. Therefore, it could only be his target.

The Assassin steadied his breathing as the booted steps grew ever closer, the trigger half-squeezed in preparation.

When the cloaked figure turned the corner, Celevon fired. The target seemed to blur as she dodged, only for an ominous rumble to respond to the sharp retort of the slugthrower going off. Within seconds, part of the hallway collapsed, spreading a cloud of ash toward him.

Momentarily blinded, the Onderonian listened carefully for any indication that his opponent was still alive. A *snap-hiss* and a blur of crimson, barely visible in the clouded corridor revealed that she was, indeed, alive.

And ready for him. Celevon returned the slugthrower to the holster on his thigh, pulling the green-hued Sith Dagger from his waist. His eyes stung, watering from the airborne ash cloud as he struggled to keep his eyes open.