Mustafar is a planet steeped in a dark history, acting as a point of interest as far back as the Clone Wars themselves. At one point, the Black Sun constructed their headquarters upon its surface and later on even Darth Vader took up residence within his dark castle. The traces of this history are still found in the form of the remains left behind. Mining facilities are scattered across the lava-surface of the scorching planet, help up with gravity supports that keep them safe from the superheated material below.

Perhaps its most notable history came via a single uttered phrase: Mustafar is where Jedi go to die. The hidden interrogation facility built into the scorched stone is steeped in the dark side, providing a clue to its wicked purpose in a time not so long past. A large, single landing pad acts as the focal point of the structure from the outside. It is connected by a causeway that leads to a security door that has fallen into disuse. The facility itself is still functional, drawing power from the thermal energy of the planet itself.

Once within, one is confronted by the labyrinthine maze of corridors and offices that were clearly designed for a singular purpose. The holding cells are as spartan as any other Imperial construct, providing only a slab protruding from the wall as a bed and nothing more. Barracks can be found near the main control rooms with its shelving in various states of disarray. It is clear with only a glance that scavengers have already picked the inanimate corpse clean of its contents.

However, it is deeper still where the miasma of the dark side truly reaches its zenith. There one will find the interrogation chambers. Wickedly cruel in their singular purpose, stains can still be found caked into the durasteel panels themselves alongside various tools and instruments of the trade plied within.

To walk within Mustafar's Interrogation Facility is to tread through the ghosts of the planet's darkest past. It is a symphony for the wicked and a requiem for the pious.

Darkness, seemingly spilling in from the void, surrounded the Inquisitor. His eyes locked shut as he meditated within the interrogation chambers. Mustafar had always had a strong connection to the Dark Side, and now the son of the Pwyll family was experiencing its magnitude. Belarius had heard stories of this place. The crushing feeling of the Force onto your psyche. The ghosts of the past that invaded your thoughts. His connection to the Force felt stronger here, and he liked it.

Bel! Help me!

The whisper cut through the Sith’s mental fortitude like a scalpel. Years of training to calm his mind seemed to falter at the hint of his past faults. It couldn’t have been who he thought he’d heard though. This particular tragedy had happened so long ago, yet the Sith was still haunted by it.

Bel, please! I need you! Help me, brother!

Sweat formed against the Imperial's forehead, hidden by the helmet he wore. He had failed his brother. He had failed his family once before, but never again. The Sith returned to his meditation. A strange feeling passed over him though, and on instinct he reacted. A pulse of the Force exited his mind, giving the Inquisitor the chance to scan for ill-natured emotions within the durasteel-plated room. He detected a sentient being behind him with a powerful connection to the Force. A shrieking cry in his mind helped alert him to the danger he was in.

Like a second nature reaction, Belarius rolled to the side and channeled the Force into his right arm, concentrating fully on its absolute power. He came to a stop, landing on his feet as he heard the clang of steel meeting the hard ground. In place of his previous position was another figure garbed in an eerily familiar Inquisitor-like armor. Without thinking, Belarius shoved his right arm forward, releasing the pent-up energy in a show of strength.

The Force crashed into the kneeling figure causing him to fly back, rolling across the hard ground and stopping next to a wall. He stood up, retracting his wrist blade back into his gauntlet. Belarius could see the metal hand, indicative of a cybernetic prosthetic. Taking the moment to study his attacker, the Inquisitor finally recognized him. The armor and the way he carried himself reminded him of only one individual.

“So, now you’ve come for me, eh, Deshra? So intent on getting your revenge that you would follow me to this relic of a location? I’ve wondered when it would be my turn.”

“You’ve been expecting me, Belarius?” the figure questioned, his voice modified beneath his helmet.

“For months now Inquisitors have been going missing. Sometimes the bodies would be found, other times nature had gotten to them first. You’ve been quite busy as of late, Aiden.” Belarius prepared himself, soaking in the energy of the Dark Side surrounding him.

“It is time for the Inquisitorius to end, my old friend. And after what you all did to me, it’s my job to bring the Force back into balance.” Aiden pulled his lightsaber from his belt and activated the silvery blade with a snap-hiss. The whitish glow emanating from the blade illuminated the area surrounding the Balance adherent.

“What we did to you? You went rogue and warned Taldryan of the Justicar’s cleansing of Karufr. You killed members of your own Inquisitorius brotherhood. We are loyal first and foremost to the Iron Throne, and you turned traitor for a Clan that tossed you aside like the garbage you are.” Belarius took hold of his own lightsaber. Twin yellow blades shot out of the hilt like a flash of lightning, bathing the Inquisitor in gleaming golden light. ”You deserved everything you received, and then more. And now, my old friend, you die like the Inquisitors you took from us.”

Both opponents rushed forward and struck equal blows. Belarius’s assault was unrelenting. His body twisted with each maneuver of his arms, swinging and thrusting each end of his dual-blade saber in a ferocious onslaught. He was singularly focused and wholeheartedly invested in the heat of the battle. The traitorous Aiden Lee Deshra would pay.

Aiden parried each strike with his elegant Makashi dance. He weaved through his opponent's strikes and riposted his silvery blade against the enemy's yellow saber. Each movement was fluid, flowing from defense to offense whenever the duelist had the chance. His strikes were precise, pinpointing weak spots in the Inquisitor's defense. The two were fiercely even in their movements, and their training was on par with the other.

Taking a chance to gain the upper hand in the duel to the death, Aiden spun backwards, sidestepping an incoming swing by his opponent. His swift action put him behind the Inquisitor and ready to strike a killing blow. Sensing his opponent's actions, Belarius flipped forward, his foot connecting to the traitor's chin and knocking the Gray Jedi to the ground.

Aiden bit his cheek a bit too hard as he landed on his back and tasted copper in his mouth. He watched the Sith leap into the air, his Dark Age Sith armor gleaming against the light of both lightsabers. The Balance adherent rolled himself over, narrowly escaping death as a yellow blade sunk into the ground where his chest had resided.

“You’re as good as I remember, Aiden,” Belarius muttered as he stood and dropped back into his stance.

“And you’re better than I expected, Bel,” Aiden responded.

The Force grew heavy in the air between the two, almost like the ghosts of the past were excitedly watching and cheering on the battle of equals. Both combatants knew that only one would walk away from this fight. Only one would survive the long night.

The Gray Jedi’s words hung in the air for a moment as if caught in the tension that filled the room. To think that Aiden had previously called the Battlelord his ‘old friend’ was laughable. While the pair may have served together in the Inquisitorius, they had never been comrades nor even equals. Quite simply, they weren’t even in the same league.

When their cohort was plucked from the ranks to join the Inquisitorius, there had been many factors that differed each of the candidates but what initially stood out to the crowd was Belarius’ lack of a clan. Having enjoyed a previous policing career, even making it to the position of detective, Belarius had been approached while he was still completing his entrance exams to the Shadow Academy. At first, this earned Belarius the ire of all as they thought this meant he was some kind of prodigy. However, this soon turned to a point of ridicule when it was discovered Belarius had barely tapped into his force potential. Aiden had the exact opposite experience, and had been seen as one of the Inquisitors’ greats.

Hence why it had been particularly harmful to his actual friends when Aiden chose Taldryan over them.

Imaging their pain had been enough to fuel Belarius back into the fight. The amber hue of his blade followed the man like a shadow as he leap forward and charged at the Seer. Amber and silver collided again at the pair exchanged blows, the first being from Belarius as he whipped his weapon around from being towed behind him. The crackle of the blades echoed through the dark, abandoned interrogation room.

‘Tell me, Aiden” Belarius started as he ducked below a counter from the Seer. “If you believe in this ‘balance of the force’ perspective, what’s that mean for you?”

An answer from the Seer was cut off as the Battlelord caught the silver blade on the right tip of his own weapon, casting it back with a quick shove. This was followed by the Battlelord wrist flexing the opposite direction to swipe at the Seer with the left side of the doublebladed lightsaber, forcing the Seer to retreat with an awkward jump or otherwise be cut in half at the hip. A tsk sound erupted from the grinning Battlelord at the missed strike but the man continued his line of questioning.

“What I mean is, as you continue to kill us, there comes a time when the scale lightens up. And everything you do continues to drive the other side down, pass it’s point of equilibrium. What happens to you then?”

Another attempt at answering was quickly drowned out. While Aiden had parried an opening in the Battlelord’s defenses, Belarius had used the momentum of his overstep to push himself out of harm’s way and left the Seer spitting a curse under his breath instead of answering. But when the Seer stepped to follow, Belarius had dropped his guard and raise a finger as if calling for moment of pause.

“Like, are you just going to wake up one morning and stick yourself in the stomach?” It was at this point that the Battlelord held the fist clenched around his lightsaber hilt off his hip while he feigned stroking his chin in thought. “Have you really thought this through?”

This time, Aiden didn’t attempt a response. At least not a verbal one. His lightsaber thrusted forward towards the Battlelord and when the counter came, Aiden was quick to riposte the strike and continue forward. Yet, the Battlelord had twisted himself towards the Seer and the silver blade carried itself into the opening between the Battelord’s arm and body but was held at distance in a lock on Belarius’ own lightsaber. Tied up together, the men stood shoulder to shoulder as they looked upon their entangled weapons as neither attempt break the lock nor peacefully separate. Instead, the Seer suddenly plunged his loose hand toward his belt.

Belarius was quick to abandon a hand from his hilt, snatching the Seer’s returning hand and twist the threat towards the ground. Suddenly, a second silver blade cast a hue over the chamber.

“Oops!” The Battlelord proclaimed with a toothy grin while looking down at the shoto blade that shot between their legs. “Guess you’re suffering from some premature activation there, Aiden.”

As the pair separated with a shove from the Battlelord, the man quickly deadpanned his next remark.

“Happens to the best of us, I’m afraid.”

Aiden couldn’t help but grin. He was enjoying the fight between himself and Belarius. He could feel his blood pressure rising as adrenaline filled his veins. His head pounded in a rhythmic tempo akin to his beating heart and sweat formed against his hairline. Both lightsabers in hand, the ex-inquisitor flipped the hilts into a reverse-grip hold. His training in his new form was still imperfect, but he couldn’t help wanting to test his skills.

The two Force-sensitives circled each other, their connected gaze never breaking. The air around them grew heavier as the pressure from the Dark Side increased. Both sets of eyes glowed orange beneath their helmets. Aiden concentrated on his opponent. He couldn’t allow any form of edge to be derived from the intense energies that saturated the facility. Clearly, in his mind, the Balance adherent could imagine the Inquisitors connection to the Force weakening. With a smirk, Aiden lunged forward swiping his silver lightsaber in an arc.

Belarius easily caught the silver blade against his own, the resounding shrieking between the blades filling the air. Silver and amber clashed in a swirl of light as the two combatants swerved and stepped in a harmonious synchrony. Death lingered at the edge of each blade, waiting for its chance to snuff out the light in the two humans glowing eyes.

Belarius could feel himself tire as the clashing dance spiraled on, but try as he might he couldn’t feel the warmth of the Dark Side beckon to his call to the same capacity as before. He felt like the child he was when the Inquisition took him in. His connection to the Force weak like before when Aiden’s treachery was fully realized.

What is this? He asked himself as Aiden’s blade came centimeters from his face, so close the edge seared against his helmet with a hiss.

Aiden’s movements grew wilder. His flourishing blades lost their elegant and precise nature and they grew more aggressive and unyielding. His defense was also growing less and less pronounced as he left openings more often than earlier in the fight.

“What have you done to me Deshra?* Belarius spat out as his breath grew heavy.

Aiden grinned beneath his helmet. His concentration waned with his growing lust. This fight was more fun than most of his previous bouts, especially more fun than the inquisitors he had already slain. Aiden leapt at his prey, slashing the two blade down in a cross shape arc. Belarius noticed the openings his enemy had been allowing and as he spun his lightsaber across his body, he blocked the smaller shoto blade, while his amber beam sliced neatly through the duelists longer silver lightsaber hilt.

Aiden hit the ground hard and rolled away back to his feet. He dropped the destroyed lightsaber, his right hand having slight burns along the knuckles. This fight had not gone as the ex-inquisitor had hoped. He had lost himself in his fighting, a flaw he had tirelessly tried to overcome to no avail. And now his victory was not so assured. The duelist would be forced to use less conventional means. Morally comfortable or not, he needed to tip the balance. It was his sole mission.

Belarius could feel his connection returning. He felt the rush of the Dark Side filling his muscles as he focused on the swirling energies around him. The ghosts of the past demanded a victor, and he would avenge his fallen Inquisitor brothers and sisters.

His strength and speed returned to his side, the Force was with him. With renewed vigor filling his body and raising his confidence against the mostly disarmed opponent, Belarius spun his amber dual bladed saber across his body as he rushed his enemy. He would end this fight now before any further energy could be wasted.

Aiden waited and watched. He prepared himself for the inquisitor's assault as he took hold of the Dark Side around himself. The amber blades carved through the air, the first end narrowly sidestepped by the Arconan, the second edge parried by the shoto saber. Aiden forced his hand forward before speaking with full authority.

“Stop at once Belarius and drop your weapon!”

Tendrils of the Force burst from Aiden’s body, entwining themselves into Belarius’s mind and body. The Sith fought against Aiden’s words but found his muscles unmoving and his grip weakening. As the lightsaber fell from the Inquisitor’s grip, his eyes shown his absolute fear. He met the gaze of his opponent before a flash of silver sent his world into complete darkness.

Aiden disengaged his remaining lightsaber as he watched Belarius’s head roll from his shoulders. He dropped to the ground, next to his fallen brothers crumpled body. Tears broke from the Gray Jedi’s eyes as he spoke a prayer to the Balance for his fallen ex-comrade. His mission was not easy, and killing was never fun. But balance needed to be brought back to the unbalanced Force.

The ghosts of the past were appeased by the sacrifice they bore witness too. Aiden could feel the Dark Side waning in strength. The light was not any stronger though, it was still snuffed out in the arms of Mustafar.