Hidden in Felucia’s jungle lies a two hundred meter expanse marking the ancient burial site of this world’s deadliest creatures and the location of innumerable remnants of hundreds, if not thousands of rancors. A circular enclosure of sun-bleached bones are arranged in the center of the cemetery—no doubt the former dwelling of a powerful practitioner of the Force. Cobwebs cling to the fallen beasts, a testament to the primordial age of some of the creatures.

Somewhat obscured by surrounding cliffs and the luminescent jungle, the dusted bones and carcasses are cast in a faint shadow, leaving just enough light to see by. The atmosphere is thick and stifling, with a strong overtone of dust and bone suspended in the still air. The taint of the Dark Side's influence has polluted the landmark over time, giving form to a dreadful aura that has scared off scavengers hoping to sell off a rancor tusk or two. Unlike most of Felucia, the area is nearly devoid of life aside from ravenous predators dwelling within the hollowed-out husks of dead rancors.

Tisto looked down at his chosen battlefield from atop a pile of Rancor bones. Below was a small clearing in the graveyard, where a single figure sat, tending to a fire. The Kiffar had been following this target for nearly a week now, ever since he had picked up a dossier on the Arconan from some hapless inquisitor who had gotten in his way. He had never meant to harm his supposed clan ally until today, but the clock was ticking. The Collective hadn't been heard from in a while, and Tisto didn't like the complacency that was setting in.

"Sorry Rrogon," he mumbled to himself. "I need to make sure you don't get dull."

Tisto took a step down from the highest bone on the pile, reading himself. After a few seconds of hesitation, he adjusted his hood and mask, covering up anything that could identify him. He reached out with the Force, taking hold of the top bone. He shoved out with both of his hands, propelling the bone towards Skar. The Kiffar wasn't shocked to see the Kaleesh jump out of the way of the crashing piece of Rancor corpse. The dossier had stated his foe had good precognitive abilities. Still, a grin found itself on the Kiffar's face as it shattered and spread out, a chunk of bone maybe a foot across striking Rrogon in the back.

He didn't favor his chances in a fair fight. The four-pound difference between the two was likely due to the increased height, but the clearing the Kaleesh was standing in was definitely not natural, and had been made by the Arconan. Tisto had no intention of risking the hit. The Kiffar didn’t move from his position, instead choosing to watch. The higher, more unstable ground would be a safer space to be if Skar decided to charge.

I have to remember to thank the Inquisition at some point, he thought to himself. This dossier came with a good amount of intel. Ignore the verbal sparring, he is supposed to be good at using that to destroy his opponent’s spirit. Don’t fight fair. Crotch shots, sand and spit in the eyes. Fight with as many advantages as possible against someone like him. Don’t let this become a brawl.

Tisto would have protested that last point in his younger days, but after surviving countless wars and battles he didn’t see why he should. Two extra inches of reach and simply being stronger was enough of an edge in his opponent’s pocket. Skar’s movement snapped the Kiffar’s attention back to the current crime.

The Kaleesh stood back up, dusting himself off. Tisto thought he saw Skar wince as he brushed off his lower back, but it was tough to tell from a distance. Still, every advantage Tisto could get in a fight against another person like himself would be helpful. Dragging out the fight without any engagement would prevent the Force from aiding either combatant’s stamina, and while Tisto was confident he could be the last man standing, he didn’t want to risk it.

The Kiffar watched as Skar pull out a pistol of some kind and scanned the area. It was interesting to watch Rrogon react cautiously. Tisto had expected more of a rage based reaction, but perhaps he simply wasn’t able to tell where Tisto was hiding. He grimaced as he saw Skar pause for several seconds before turning towards the pile of bones Tisto was on.

Skar charged towards the pile of bones, pistol aimed in Tisto’s general direction. The Kiffar took hold of the Force again, making a tight coil in his right palm before slamming that hand down onto the bones. Despite having been stalked for years, the pile was still relatively unstable and as the telekinetic wave hit them they spewed forth, carried by their newfound momentum. Skar dropped his pistol and drew his saber to cut one of the bones in half before it could hit him.

Tisto jumped out of the way before the charging Skar could get to him, calling up a barrier at the last second to deflect the cerulean blade. He could feel the Force roaring inside of himself as it caught the glimpse of a fight.

Oh no.

Rrogon was mad. There the Kaleesh was, minding his own business getting ready to chow down on some roasted womprat he had caught, when out of nowhere he was attacked. Skar found that whoever was attacking, he didn't give him much of a chance to retaliate further. Skar had come to this graveyard for some peace and quiet, not to be hunted and attacked.

Who could it possibly be? Arconan? One of the other Clans? Whoever it was, it didn't matter in the end, because the gladiator was going to kill this person regardless their affiliation. After the Sith cut the first bone launched in his direction in half he charged. After the man blocked the heavy lightsaber attack with a wall of invisible force, the Aedile switched his tactics and reached into himself, lashing out with the Force as he threw his hand forward.

The large man, however, dogged clear out of the way as the telekinetic strike slammed into the bones and dirt and rolled down the hill into the clearing. The Aedile snarled as he looked down at the man.

“I don't know who you are or why you chose to attack me. However, I am going to make sure you suffer for that action!” growled the Sith before he pulled on the Force once more and leapt into the air, bringing his lightsaber down in an attempt to cleave the man in two. At the last conceivable second, the cloaked man stepped to the side and backed up in an attempt to get as much distance away from the Juggernaut as possible.

The Kaleesh glared at the man for a second before he cocked his head to the side, his metallic voice almost sounding amused as he deactivated his lightsaber, clipping it to his belt once more.

“If you are just going to dodge and block my attacks with a lightsaber, then I will crush you with my fists!” With that the Aedile charged the man, cybernetic hands clenched, and pulled in the Force one more time, calling it around him to create a mirror image to his left in an attempt to throw off his foe.

Crossing back and forth in an attempt to confuse the man, the Kaleesh was finally close enough to engage in close quarters combat. Before his first strike landed, he saw too late the gloves on the other's hands as they sparked to life. What came next was a true definition of a gladiatorial brawl with the two hulking humanoids duking it out, each using the full skill and technique of their individual martial arts to their individual advantage and equal disadvantage. Tisto Weaved back and forth in a boxers bob avoiding most of the Siths jabs and swipes what he couldn't avoid the man either deflected with ease or took head on and kept going.

Flesh crashed on flesh and metal and the shock gloves of the Kiffar slammed again and again into the Sith Juggernaut, their electric discharge making what skin the Kaleesh had left go numb, but they didn't bring him down. The same could be said to the Aedile’s attempt to subdue the Jedi, who he admittedly admired for staying up so long.

But what the KIffar tried next he would remember for the rest of his life. As he dashed to the side and grabbed onto the armor of the Kaleesh Battlemaster in an attempt to gain some leverage to finally overcome him, images overtook his mind, their memory transferred at his fingertips. The Jedi saw flashes of blood on reptilian and metallic hands alike from the corpses of women, children, even the Sith's own wife who was with child, folded into the man's mind. He could feel the rage and grief and the unending sorrow that came with them, but he also felt the glee and sadistic pleasure the Aedile took in many of those cold-blooded killings. In a spasm of nausea, the Jedi dropped to his knees and began to vomit from the sheer mental strain of the visions he saw.

Sputtering, the amber-eyed Seer looked up at the Sith with hate and disgust. “You’re a monster, a child murderer! I kill scum like you,” cried the man as the Sith looked down at him with contempt and an equal amount of hate.

“You know only the bare minimum of the deeds I have committed for this Brotherhood, for and against it. Do not cast judgment on that which you cannot cast on yourself!” hissed the Kaleesh as he leapt back, raising his hand once more and calling on the Force to close a vice around the Kiffar's neck.

“And now I think I'll add you to the ever-growing list of people I have killed.”

Tisto refused to let the terror of using psychometry get to him for the time being. He couldn’t let his own terror of that power get in the way of the fight. The Kiffar had not intended to use it during the fight, and what he saw sent chills down his spine. He let his anger take over to get passed the fear that lurked in the back of his mind. As he did he felt his neck tighten.

The Kiffar’s eyes met Skar’s as the Kaleesh tried to choke the life from Tisto. Without a second thought the Kiffar began to call on the Force to lower his own heart rate to increase the length of time he could deal with being strangled. He let his limbs fall limp, letting the Force take him to the brink of death, all the while staring down the Kaleesh. Seconds dragged on into their own enternities as Tisto’s vision began to blur. Rrogon released the Kiffar after a minute, dropping the near dead Kiffar to the ground.

Once on the ground, Tisto began to reverse what he had done. He duly noted that Skar was only a few feet from him, and had already taken a step forward. Tisto let his fear of death begin to take over, stroking it with the Force to cause adrenaline to flood his systems. His vision brought itself back to normal, then began to focus solely on Skar and the area near by. He allowed the adrenaline to bring him to the point of developing tunnel vision, and began to call the Force to his hands. He registered the hiss-click of an igniting lightsaber as Sakr stood above him. At that moment, he shoved his hands to connect to Skar’s cybernetic ankles and released the Force in a shove.

Skar, caught of guard, flew back, flipping forward uncontrollably. The Kaleesh slammed mask first into the ground several meters away, the impact jolting the lightsaber from his grasp. Once Skar was down, Tisto continued to stoke the adrenaline inside himself to bring back the feeling of battle and set himself into a sprinters starting position. He waited to launch himself until Skar began to push himself back off. With the adrenaline rushing through every fiber in his body, he cleared the distance relatively quickly. He knee slammed into Skar’s chest, his shoulder into the the Kaleesh’s mask. Blood poured out from inside the mask after the impact, covering some of Tisto’s armor.

The Kiffar continued his assault, hoping to keep the Kaleesh from getting a foothold, even if the Force continued to fuel his opponents stamina. Shockglove covered fists slammed into the Kaleesh’s back, the electrical discharge running along his back. Tisto’s assault continued for several seconds, as the forced adrenaline added strength and speed to his blows. Once the adrenaline had subsided, Skar caught one of Tisto’s arms and used the newfound leverage to throw the Kiffar away.

Both opponents struggled to pick themselves off the ground. Skar, grateful that blood was dripping from the bottom of the mask and not getting in his eyes, felt bruises forming on his back and across his chest. Tisto, adrenaline now gone, felt the pain of nearly killing himself to get out of being strangled. The Kiffar forced himself to breath as he picked himself up, removing his hood and Inquisitor mask to make it easier on himself. The two stared eachother down as they got up.

Skar felt his opponents hand move before it happened. The Kaleesh threw himself to the side, expecting another telekinetic blast, only to fall back to the ground as his left leg was held down. Horror gripped his face under his mask as he was flug at another skeleton. His head smashed into a large bone and after the physical punishment he had already sustained, the Kaleesh was knocked unconscious.

Tisto approached his unconscious opponent, pulling out his plasma cutter. The boxer activated it, and without any thoughts of remorse, pressed it against his opponents left eye. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air as he burned out his opponent eye. Skar was forced awake due to the pain, watching as Tisto calmly shut down the plasma cutter and put it back in his pack.

The Kiffar began a labored walk away from the clearing.

“The only reason you are alive is that you are needed to fight the collective. Count yourself lucky scum,” the Kiffar muttered, unsure if Skar could actually hear him.

Rrogon’s hand was slowly closing in on itself, crushing the windpipe of the Kiffar throw the force in front of him at a sluggish pace. This was intentional; he wanted the man to suffer as much as he could before dying. It gave the Kaleesh pleasure to see the Jedi struggle like this in a effort to save his own life. The Seer’s hands were clasped on his own neck, trying to pull at the invisible force crushing it.

A slight tingle in the back of the Arconan’s mind made him square his feet, the force rippling over his skin before the hand of the enemy Juggernaut lashed out and sent a wave of force slamming into the Siths body. This made him skid back on the bone’s and dirt, but he managed to hold his stance and glare at the Kiffar.

Skar let his grip of Tisto’s throat go, letting the Alien’s body crash to the ground in a coughing, wheezing heap. The former Gladiator began to pace back and forth, the roar of the crowd filling the battle haze of his mind like the days of old. He remembered the calls for blood and bone— the hell he lived in for so long.

Tisito slowly got to his feet, rubbing at his neck as he looked over at the predatory animal he was fighting. The beast’s metallic hands were twitching in anticipation for the second round of fighting that was to come. The air grew still between them, the only sound being the crunch of bone underfoot and the heavy breathing coming from both men.

Skar was the first to make a move as he roared, his old Gladiator challenging the deafening sound filling the maksfit arena. Charging forward, the Sith’s fists slammed into the Jedi’s face just as the Seer’s returned the favor in kind. For a lengthy second, they just stood there, waiting to see who would break first.

In the end, it was Rrogon’s strike that made the Jedi stagger back a step, the overwhelming strength of the punch forcing him to reel back. Not wanting his foe to recover, the Kaleesh pressed his advantage and charged forward leaping off the ground, briging both of his clawed metallic feet up and kicking them into the waiting arms the Kiffar,who took the impact with a grunt.

Spining mid leap, the Sith landed on the ground and pressed his attack, the Gladiator falling back on pure instinct and training as he bobbed and weaved, using his whole body as a weapon. His fists and legs crushed into the Jedi’s waiting defences, the Kaleesh swiftly realizing he was faster than his foe.

At this rate, neither side would give in and buckle anytime soon. The Aedile needed to end this soon. Ducking under a well-timed stroke, the Kaleesh grabbed the Seer’s arm and effortlessly lifted his whole body over his , slamming it onto the ground. Seizing this brief window of time, the Kaleesh leapt on top of the jedi and began to bring his fists down like hammer blows to an anvil.

The Jedi tried to throw the Juggernaut off of him several times but each time the Sith just made him pay for the attempt by hitting his exposed chest and face. Each crack of metal on flesh made the Sith smile in glee, but this needed to end now. Reaching into himself for the last time, he drew on the cold dark reservoir of energy called the darkside and let in fuel him making his limbs move faster and hit harder.

The fight ended with resounding crack as the Sith’s fist slammed into the Jedi’s temple. His opponent’s form had crumpled into the ground, limp. Skar rolled off the Seer’s body and began to breathe heavily. The tax of using that much power was evident on his body. Looking over, the Sith saw something in the Jedi’s robes that made him pause. Reaching into the Kiffar’s robes, the Kaleesh pulled out a device he roughly recognized as a plasma cutter.

A sinister smile overcame the Juggernaut as he flipped the cutter on, the blinding blue light filling the space.

“Time to make you pay for fighting me fool,” snarled Rogon as he brought the blue blade of plasma cutter down onto the legs of the man next to him, beginning to cut him apart little by little, taking his time with the effort. At some point, Tisto woke up from the pain and bean to scream but it was to late for him... the damage was done.

Standing back up, the Sith looked over his work— at the now crippled man before him.

“Remember this; next time you try to fight someone always go for the kill” he spat, throwing the plasma cutter to the ground and walking away. The Sith left the Jedi to die on the planet alone and scared.