Deep within the jungles of Karufr lies a massive temple built from stone blocks, hand-carved by the builders of the Massassi. The ancient race made its home on the planet after joining forces with Clan Taldryan, having been freed from stasis years ago. Now, an entire civilization exists, hidden far from the prying eyes of Karufr's citizenry. As a Jedi, you are one of the few to have access to their secret base.

You step onto the temple grounds and watch the fearsome warriors train in small regiments with their crude weapons. The entire temple is in a state of anticipation as the Massassi know they will soon be called on once more to aid the Dark Jedi of Taldryan in battle. The temple is shaped like a giant pyramid, towering into the sky, and serves as a backdrop to the training ground.

The War Chief notices you and gestures you forward. He clears the area around you with a bellowing command, and the Massassi warriors present form a wide circle with you at the center. A moment later, you realize you're not the only Jedi to visit the temple—the crowd parts slightly to allow the newcomer to enter the ring. The gathered Massassi holler in good cheer. They want to see a fight.

The Chief raises his weapon to the sky and barks a command. The Massassi begin to stamp their feet against the ground, creating a loud, steady beat that seems to get your blood pumping. With little choice left, you lock eyes with your opponent and ready yourself for a fight.

The ground shook, almost audibly, as the Massassi beat synchronized. A’lora felt it rise through her legs as she cautiously paced the perimeter of the circle created by the red skinned humanoids; one eye on the aliens and one on her droid-like housemate. The tribal nature of the Massassi eased her nerves somewhat. They may not have been her tribe, but she understood them more than she did the Shard.

“Come now, Aedile. These beings want a show, let’s give them one,” Solari’s uncanny voice called; both digital and strangely organic in the same instant.

“I’m afraid they may get more than a harmless show. You spent over two standard years under the thumb of the Dark Brotherhood’s Grand Master. The so called ’Lion of Tarthos’,” A’lora scoffed. “I don’t know why Liam welcomed you back into our fold with such open arms. Perhaps he can see something in you that I cannot, but to my eyes you’re no better than those merciless Sith.”

Solari did not try to retort his Aedile’s train of thought. He made no movement, a feat that came easily to the silicon being that called a droid home. His robes, a weak attempt at appearing more human, and Silver Sash rustled as a breeze blew over the crowd of Massassi and between the pair.

The stamping of feet increased in speed and their Chief barked another loud command. Solari assumed this one was aimed at the Odanites rather than his own people. He beckoned his lightsaber to his metallic hand with a loud clap as two metal surfaces clashed. The crimson blade sprang to life with an angry hiss.

A’lora scowled, she cared not for the droids excuses. The sight of his lightsaber had all but confirmed the suspicions she had of him.

The stagnant, steady rhythm of Massassi feet stamping against the ground in unison gradually accelerated in measure. As the heavy beating of war drums worked itself into the melody, A’lora felt a sense of trepidation fill the arena, keeping her senses sharp, even as adrenaline rushed through her veins. The same however, could not be said of the Shard who tracked his opponent through the mechanical array of photoreceptors burrowed into a metallic cranium, seemingly unfazed as the Massassi drummers rose to a frenzied tempo.

“So, it seems you have become the Lion’s puppet, after all.” A’lora scoffed. Outstretching her hand, she called the ligneous hilt of her lightsaber to hand, the irregular design floating into her grip without a sound to be heard above the continuing onslaught of drums. With a flourish, the emerald blade sprang to life twirling in a choreographed display of finesse.

These warriors want a show. I’ll give them one to remember.

Ending the display with a final rotation of the glowing weapon, she pointed its pinnacle directly at her opponent, flicking her wrist skyward to signal readiness, and as a small token of respect. Likewise, the Shard commanded his metal host to nod in response.

A’lora could feel the vibrations moving through the cobblestone beneath her bare feet. Once the symphony ceased to a lethargic, but robust pattern, the combatants knew it was time. Taking graceful, but mindful steps around the perimeter of the training ring, she manoeuvred around the mechanical traitor. In contrast, the Shard held his position without moving so much as a servomotor, calculating possible openings in the woman’s form and running a complete strategic analysis through the verbobrain of his droid host. If he possessed facial muscles, he would have grinned at his odds.

“I calculate a seventy-six percent chance that you will not succeed in this battle. Surrendering now will ensure your survival, if you step aside.” The former Headmaster offered in his best impression of a mocking tone through his host’s vocabulator.

“Surrendering now will only ensure my survival until your precious ‘master’ deems otherwise.” She replied, seething between rows of pointed teeth. The response wasn’t what the Shard had anticipated, even if he had already counted the possible outcomes of such a scenario.

“You could have stopped him,” She added pointedly, “You could have saved Morotheri.”

“Very well. Brace yourself, Aedile; I will not hold back my blows.” Solari forewarned after a moment’s consideration in a metallic voice before rotating his metallic chassis a slight, but extremely precise angle away from his opponent. In the moment that the guttural chanting began, the former Headmaster’s Mechu-deru droid host surged forward. Despite the otherwise restrictive and rigid appearance of his chassis, the Force-augmented construction was much faster than the Aedile had suspected. However, the returning escalation of the Massassi audience provided enough apprehension that her senses heightened, preparing her for the inevitable attack.

Twisting a mechanical wrist around mid-swing, Solari’s lightsaber changed orientation. Held in Shien’s malevolent reverse-grip, the deadly stream of crimson narrowly missed its mark. Where the Togruta’s lavender form had once been, a contrasting shade of emerald deftly deflected the murderous intent of the Shard’s underhanded thrust. Solari maintained a constant awareness of his opponent’s position through the various sensors encased within a durasteel shell that made up the bulk of his corporeal form. This awareness was more than enough once he determined the enemy combatant’s next move.

A barrage of sparks bounced off Solari’s durasteel plating once the two lightsabers made contact, showering the cobblestone beneath them. The contrasting hues of green against crimson, reflected in the soulless windows covering the droid’s photoreceptor array gave off a frightening appearance. Even so, the Shard didn’t need to look into the woman’s fierce eyes to see a burning determination in the woman.

I do not fear death.