A year after the destruction of the second Death Star in the celebrated Battle of Endor, another war was waged between the New Republic and Galactic Empire. Basking beneath the desert sun of Jakku rests the remnants of this hostility. Shifting sands have since buried and uncovered countless treasures and relics- to the delight of scavengers eager who hope to recover tokens from either side of the conflict!

The harsh desert offers little shelter from the elements, remaining barren and flat against the imposing backdrop of a fallen Star Destroyer that was left uncovered after the famed Battle of Jakku. Rather than allowing the vessel to fall into the hands of the Republic after the self-destruct had been sabotaged, Captain Ciena Ree ordered the Inflictor evacuated and sent it crashing to the planet’s surface. Sunken into the shifting desert sea, the upper portion of the Inflictor’s hull and exhaust ports remain otherwise intact, preserved amidst the rubble of untold casualties that had once occurred on both sides. Although it has been scoured by the passing of several sandstorms, it still displays the former power and might of the Galactic Empire.

Innumerous scraps of metal and machines of war share the same grave, echoing the lives of those who fought and died among the perilous wastes. Hundreds of these relics sit untouched, lingering amidst the ghosts that tend and reside in Jakku’s graveyard.

Arron stepped into the dark interior of the massive wreck, letting his eyes adjust to the darkened interior, his “partner” for this mission right behind him. Arron really didn’t want to be here. For not the first time this week, the Dark Jedi cursed his rotten luck. He seemed to find himself doing that a lot in recent years, he thought, unconsciously flexing the “fingers” of his metal arm.

Arron still didn’t understand what was so important about some enormous wreck of a ship from a decades old war, but the powers that be had overruled him on that opinion. What’s more is he was being required to work with some scholar from Naga Sadow as part of a “Clan cooperation exercise.”

Quaestors. Go figure.

“We should be standing right beneath the main bridge,” murmured Aul. “Or right above it. The damage to the ship makes it hard to tell.”

Arron couldn't help but think what an understatemtn that was. The place was twisted enough to make it seem like the halls had been constructed on a three dimensional basis, rights and lefts being exchanged for ups and downs in some areas, or giving way to cavernous tears in the hull that Arron was reasonably certain were not supposed to be there.

That was when they both felt something. A brush against their senses in The Force.

“Did you feel-” Aul began.

“Yes, we’re not the only ones here.”

Both knights pulled their lightsabers, but refrained from igniting them just yet.

“It’s this way,” Aul said, his voice now dropping to a whisper as he indicated the half-open door to their left.

Through it lay a darkened hallway receding deeper into the bowels of the ruinous ship.

The corridor seemed to breathe as they delved deeper into the Inflictor. The walls, scorched and in disrepair, bulged and flexed slightly with each step the Knights took. It would have been imperceptible to normal senses, but Aul was on edge more than usual and could just make it out. He slowly rubbed the ignition switch on his newly built lightsaber in small clockwise circles, a subtle act of meditation to help steady his senses.

At one time, Aul Celsus would have adamantly eschewed combat to focus on his studies, but his recent history quickly changed that. Operation Firestorm had been a literal trial by fire and the Sadowan came out of it a more experienced warrior than he or his Clanmates would have ever expected. He wasn’t sure who else in the Brotherhood was aware of this development.

The hall grew darker the further they went, both in lighting and in the Force. Aul reached to an equipment pack on his belt and pulled out a small flashlight. As he switched on the light he replaced his lightsaber hilt onto its belt loop.

“A flashlight? You have a lightsaber,” Arron quipped.

“Not every situation merits the use of a weapon, Arron. I don’t need whoever, or whatever, we encounter on this mission to know I’m armed before I’m ready for that to be known,” Aul responded patiently. He sensed the situation creeping towards danger and didn’t trust this Dark Jedi, to say the least. He was only on this mission out of duty, and intended to leave alive.

The corridor ended at a large, ornate blast door. Aul directed the flashlight around the edges of the door, looking for a sign of a hinge or access pad. The light beam passed over runic symbols reminiscent of early Sith engravings, but of an origin the human could not identify.

“You’re taking too long,” Arron let out as he ignited his lightsaber and began to cut a large round opening in the door. Aul cringed at the destruction of the artifact, but chose not to speak out - this Scholae Palatinean was becoming more unpredictable with each passing minute.

The freshly cut opening fell to the ground with a loud, metallic thud, revealing a darkened chamber beyond about ten by ten meters in dimension. The room was entirely bare with the exception of a small marble pedestal at the center. A sphere, giving off what could only be described as a “black glow” was floating about three centimeters above the pedestal.

Arron turned back to Aul, his face widened into a grin. “I guess this situation did merit the use of weapon.” The Cathar stepped into the room and made his way towards the orb. As he reached out to grab his prize, a directed pulse of energy shot out and launched him across the room. He slammed into the wall above the door and landed onto the still-smoldering piece he had cut out moments before.

“Hey, are you okay?!” Aul called out to the Cathar.

A laugh grew out of the room as the Dark Jedi stood. Tendrils of smoke rose off his shoulders. The Cathar strode slowly towards Aul and stopped just before him, his eyes shut and his artificial arm cupping his forehead. “Never better,” the Knight said quietly. Arron’s eyes opened into small slits and Aul immediately noticed a red, glowing rim around his irises.

Before the human could react, his “partner” lunged out with his robotic limb, grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him a meter off the ground. Aul desperately tried to release the tightening grip around his throat, gasping for air to maintain consciousness. Unable to release the hold around his windpipe, he snapped his knee up and caught the Cathar on the chin. The strength of the attack caught Arron off his guard, and sent him stumbling back, releasing his grip on Aul.

Aul rolled backwards and landed on one knee. He rubbed his throat for a moment, to stimulate blood flow again, and took a few deep breaths. The Gray Jedi reached down and grabbed his lightsaber off his belt, igniting it as he rose. He lifted the blade above his head, parallel to the ground and extended his left arm in front of him palm out. By the time his eyes could adjust to the corridor’s light level, now illuminated only by the light blue glow of his blade, he found the Cathar gone.

Aul made his way into the large chamber housing the orb, walking forward sideways to maintain planting his forward, left foot first with each advance. As soon as his whole body had entered the chamber, he was caught in the back by an invisible wall of air, pushing him to the other side of the of the chamber. He met the wall with the bottom of his left foot, completing an ungraceful back flip to prevent him breaking his leg. He turned quickly and assumed the Soresu ready stance again, his lightsaber held high and parallel to the ground.

The Cathar was standing next to the pedestal, his arms at his sides, his fingers rolling deftly.

“Not just a scholar anymore, I see,” the Scholae Palatinean bellowed. His voice had changed, darker, and somehow doubled - as if his words were quickly echoed by an unseen presence.

Just as Aul felt a twinge in the back of his mind, the Cathar sent a short series of searing lightning strikes at the human. Aul’s blade met each attack, the bolts crackling and singeing the air around him. When the lightning died down, the human Knight called back to his would-be teammate.

“So now you choose not to use your weapon?”

With his mismatched arms still held idly at his sides, the lightsaber blade shot off Arron’s belt and into his metallic arm. The purple blade ignited, humming quietly.

“So be it.”

There were whispers in the back of Arron’s mind now, indistinguishable from each other and too quiet to yet be heard, but the Dark Jedi could make out just enough to tell what they wanted him to do: they wanted the orb, whatever the blasted thing was for.

The scholar was in his way now, finally showing that he does in fact have a spine. But more importantly he was between Arron and the orb, and the voices would not allow that.

Arron was mildly surprised when Aul made the first move, closing the distance between them, and slashing toward Arron’s cybernetic arm. The cathar turned his body to dodge out of the way, then only to spin around to try and cut the Gray Jedi down from behind.

Aul was fast to react, and ducked under the blade. He then kicked Arron in the stomach, forcing the Dark Jedi to stumble back a few steps.

The voices made known their displeasure. A bolt of pain shot through Arron’s temples.

“Listen to me Arron!” Aul, called out, “Whatever that orb is, it’s affecting your mind! Try to think!”

The words were lost on Arron, jumbled through the fog of red clouding his vision, and the whispers still pressing on the back of his mind.

Arron’s rage growing, he lashed out with bolts of lightning, Aul once more parrying the first and the second, but the third caught him in the shoulder, the pain causing him to falter as he gripped the wound with his right hand.

It was all the opportunity Arron needed.

Arron lashed out with his blade, fully prepared to land a lethal blow, the voices at the back of his mind egging onward. A part of him could tell the voices were growing louder and clearer, speaking of power and destruction.

So lost in the rush of victory, Arron failed to notice as ally/enemy reached inside his robe and pulled out his pistol. The shot hit Arron’s still-organic shoulder, causing him to stumble just a few steps away from where Aul was.

As the pain lanced into his body, Arron could see the fog of red lessening just a bit, while the voices were louder than any point previously, speaking of all they would have Arron due, all the would give, but Arron heard one word in particular in the jumble of voices, a word that brought some measure of clarity back to his mind.

Slave.

They were referring to him.

They were going to make Arron their slave.

Memories flooded into his mind, memories of a hutt, fat and laughing, memories of cells filled with muck and cruel overseers, a cathar village on fire.

He was not a slave anymore.

The voices did not seem to approve of his sudden defiance of their will, pain searing through his whole body now.

Through the fog of pain and now screaming voices Arron could tell his body was still battling with Aul, moving without his command, but it was sloppy, jerking about like a ag doll with half of it’s strings cut.

The euphoria which had distracted him now gone, Arron fought for control of his limbs for just a few moments, his eyes wide and unfocused.

Aul seemed to take the hint, and when Arron was holding himself still fighting for control, drove his sapphire blade right into the heart of the orb.

The artifact shattered, and inhuman screams seemed to fill the air from no source, then silenced themselves.

Arron collapsed onto the floor, completely exhausted, and Aul followed a moment later, bith of them gasping for breath.

“How did you know breaking the orb would work?” Arron asked between gasps.

“Couldn’t have made you worse could it?”

Arron turned to look at the shattered pieces of the orb.

“On the report,” Arron stated, “I’m blaming you for this.”

Aul could only manage the energy to glare.

The Cathar turned sideways and lowered his head slightly, turning to his side and slowly adjusting his lightsaber blade, his fingers only partly grasping the hilt. The orb pulsated nearby, emitting a dark presence about the room.

Arron narrowed his gaze on Aul, as stark images of shame and defeat tore through the human’s mind. The Sadowan channeled all of his will into pushing out the thoughts. Something wasn’t right.

He’s performing far beyond his abilities. The personnel database reported his metrics as significantly below this.

Aul focused inwards and meditated briefly, considering the options available to him and rapidly running through plausible explanations for Arron’s enhanced powers. In the borrowed seconds while the human stood at the ready, Arron carefully considered his opponents next move. The Cathar engaged his fur to increase his apparent size in an act of intimidation. The sudden change in Arron’s size snapped Aul back into the present. Celsus raised his lightsaber over his head with his right hand, extending his left arm out towards the Cathar.

Celsus gathered some of the copious energies of the room into his legs and bolted at the Cathar. As Aul got within striking distance, Arron silently shifted his footing away, evading the attack and creating a distance between him and the orb at the center of the room. A look of surprise flashed onto Saylos’ face when the human did not adjust his trajectory to meet his target, but instead tightly swung his lightsaber across the front of his body, grabbing the hilt with both hands and ending the strike with his blade extended behind him.

“You fool, you have no idea what you’re doing!” the Cathar yelled at the human while both were still in motion.

A shockwave filled the room as Aul’s light blue blade pierced the orb, birthing cracks along its surface like a brittle eggshell. With a deep bellow, the orb disintegrated in a shower of red hot, glowing shards. Aul quickly braced himself to deflect the shards, while Arron received a full-frontal onslaught of sharp, searing needles. As the Cathar fell to the ground, a muffled scream could be heard echoing through the chamber.

Celsus stood still and ready in the moments that followed, only observing Saylos. The human knew what he had done was foolish; he had no idea what would have happened if he attacked the orb, but he had decided it was his best shot. As the Cathar’s eyes opened, the Sadowan could see they were again bright green. Celsus began to feel at ease, hoping the severity of the situation was subsiding.

“You fiend! You backstabber!” came a fierce roar from the Dark Jedi as he stood. “This is why I work alone, I knew I couldn’t trust you!”

“Hey, hey, hey! Do you not realize what just happened?” the Gray Jedi tried to reason with the his would-be partner.

“Yes, I do! You tried to kill me!” Arron spat out, as the hiss of his lightsaber again filled the room and he angrily lunged at Aul. The purple blade crackled as it was met with the light blue blade of the Gray Jedi.

“You’re confused and making a mistake, Arron,” urged Celsus, their faces just a few centimeters apart, his brown eyes locked onto the Cathar’s green.

The Cathar wordlessly replied with a fierce roar, straining the human’s eardrums and covering his face with spittle. Left with little other choice, Aul forcefully brought his right elbow up and cracked the Cathar on the chin, sending him stumbling back.

Arron swiftly retreated into the corridor from which they entered the room, killing his lightsaber and taking cover in the shadows of the passageway.

Aul pursued Arron more out of a desire to leave the ship alive than to injure his apparent opponent. He stepped over the destroyed door and into the hallway, illuminating the durasteel walls with the light blue aura of his lightsaber. The Cathar was nowhere to be seen. Celsus assumed Saylos fled, realizing he was outmatched, and replaced his lightsaber onto his belt. He trekked back towards the main body of the Inflictor, intending to scale out of the wreckage towards the shuttle they arrived on.

As he arrived at the main chamber of the ship, Aul felt another twinge in the back of his mind. A razor sharp set of claws struck out from a pile of rubble, nearly missing the human’s throat, but tearing through the thick layers of Aul’s combat jacket and digging deep lacerations across his chest. Suppressing the excruciating pain of the attack, Aul’s hands shot up and grabbed the darkly furred wrists, pulling Arron over his shoulder and throwing the Dark Jedi off the ledge of the decrepit walkway. The Cathar roared loudly as he landed on the sand twenty meters below with a loud thud.

Heaving deep, muffled breaths, Aul slowly walked to the edge of the path and looked down at the state of his attacker. Though Celsus could sense that the Dark Jedi was still alive, he had multiple obvious broken bones and had lost consciousness. Aul reached into a tool pouch on his belt and pulled out an emergency evacuation beacon. He activated the beacon and tossed it down to Saylos’ limp body.

“I guess cats don’t always land on their feet,” Aul quietly mused to himself beneath wheezing breaths, as he climbed out onto the outer hull of the wreckage.