Lightning shatters the sky and strikes the spire atop the cloning complex towering before anyone who steps off their ship and onto the rain-slick landing platform. Kamino, the Planet of Storms, is known for its roiling seas and constant torrential downpour. The fall of the Galactic Empire hit the planet’s primary export of military cloning projects extremely hard, but the Kaminoans remained afloat, both figuratively and literally with contracts to galactic warlords and the brilliant engineering of their iconic seaborne cities.

The initial landing pad is a wide circle designed to accommodate a variety of ships, and is connected to a series of other platforms as well. Every surface is slick with rain, but avoids flooding due to the sloped edges that allow the water to run off into the sea below and away from the center-point.

The cloning facility’s exterior is characterized by similar slopes, and raindrops rapidly transform into steam as they touch against the series of lightning rods around the platform, much like they would if they dripped onto a lightsaber blade.

History tells of the fateful encounter between Obi Wan Kenobi and renowned Bounty Hunter Jango Fett. The doors of the facility are sealed, which means that whatever challenge awaits will have to be faced in the heart of the omnipresent rainstorm.

An angry grumble followed yet another lightning strike on the spire of the cloning facility. While this time the thunder barely broke the howling of the wind, it still reverberated deep into the body and caused an uneasiness. Before too long another strike touched down, with a heavy boom-clap that shook the landing pad adjacent to the spire. Within minutes, it was answered with another and another; as if some ancient god was hammering out metal work in the atmosphere. To accompany the fury in the sky, a torrential downpour seemed to be forever overcast. To describe the environment as violent would be a gross understatement.

It was as if the planet itself was trying to sink the cloning facility.

To make matters worse, the Kaminoans didn’t seem to want to play host today. Having arrived over a half hour ago, Belarius Pwyll had made his way immediately down the landing platforms to the main facility doors - only to find them sealed. And when his hails on the comlink, and his heavy pounding on the doors themselves, went unanswered; the man had been forced to take refuge back under the rustbucket of a public transport he had rode in on. As if the Force itself was conspiring against him, the landing ramp had been able to be lowered but the ship’s captain couldn’t explain why the cabin doors wouldn’t open. The one fortunate thing about this mess was it kept the Bothan captain safe from the fury of the Battlelord.

For now though, Belarius was stuck waiting on the landing ramp. Tucked up at the top of the ramp, seated on the ground and wrapped in his clan’s cloak, the man was dry enough from the storm but couldn’t see out and keep watch for his mark. Having tasked the droid to do so, his ID10 Seeker droid hung from the underside of the ship and peered out. It’d be another thirty minutes of shivering before the whirling tone of the droid alerted its master to the presence of a landing JV-7 Escort Shuttle touching down on next landing pad.

“Finally,” the man huffed as he pulled himself off the cold metal flooring and began trotting down the ramp and spoke to the droid. “This won’t take long. Stay here, so you don’t fry in the rain. Make sure that Bothan has the door fixed by the time my meeting wraps up.”

A singular tone from the droid was enough to confirm for the man, and Belarius quickly took off into the rain and wind. Having raised his cloak above his head in a futile attempt to keep dry, Belarius trotted across the slippery catwalks over to the escort shuttle just in time to meet it’s sole occupant exiting the craft’s cabin onto the landing ram. Having caught the other man’s attention, Belarius politely stopped at the bottom of the landing ramp and waved in greeting. While the short, overweight man wasn’t much of an imposing figure; the lack of a returned greeting immediately soured Belarius’ demeanor.

“Who the hell are you?!” The short man shouted over another crackle of lightning heard overhead. Clearly refusing to exit the shuttle any further, the man held his position at the top of the landing ramp and slightly bent to look out past Belarius for a moment.

“Belarius Pwyll!” The Battlelord was quick to answer, jumping to the conclusion that Ektrosis Aedile was still expecting someone else. “I’m the new Grand Vizier and Proconsul of Scholae Palatinae. I’ve been asked to pick up this meeting-”

“What happened to Raiju?” The interrupting words from the short man betrayed a tone of concern.

“...Dead.” Belarius was slow to answer this time, adjusting his cloak uncomfortably.

“Then so is the alliance.” The short man was quick to turn back to the cabin door that opened with a hiss.

“Wait-”

“Enough, I don’t know what happened to Raiju or who the hell you are. But Taldryan had connections with the Nautolan and it was him I trusted enough to meet at this Force-forsaken planet. I won’t talk with an unknown.”

“Please, wait. I’ll explain-” Belarius again plead, inching towards the Warlord and taking a step onto the landing ramp. Immediately, the Warlord turned back from the cabin with a blaster clutched from inside the door. Before the Palatinaen had time to back away and calm the situation, the Warlord growled.

“There is nothing more to explain. Get off my ship.”

“And leave our clans open to attack? Do you want a repeat of Karufr?!” The words exploded from the man’s mouth before he could think. When a crackle echoed over the escort shuttle, one could have been forgiven for mistaking it for the continuing lightning outside; yet Belarius knew his mouth had been what started the conflict. The blaster rifle that the Warlord was holding had discharged a single shot that bit into the ground at the Palatinaen’s foot as he had backed off the ramp. Instinct took over as the Battlelord’s hands produced his double-sided lightsaber hilt and an amber hue fell over the angered face of the man. It felt like a single heartbeat fell in the space of time that separated his short retreat and the charge of the swinging amber blade up the landing ramp.

Andrelious barely had enough time to reach for his own lightsaber as Belarius came steaming in. He knew nothing about the man claiming to be Scholae’s new Proconsul, but the man’s aggressive response confirmed that he was a threat. The Taldryanite also suspected that Pwyll had something to do with Raiju’s demise, but there was very little that he could do.

“Nice try!” Mimosa-Inahj hissed as he blocked his new enemy’s initial attack. The cramped area at the top of the landing ramp gave him little chance to move around, so the Ektrosis Aedile, parrying away another determined attack, made his way down the ramp and into the downpour outside.

Belarius was now fully pumped for combat. He followed Andrelious without a second thought and immediately attacked again, so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn’t even notice the rain teeming down around him.

“You’re going to pay for what you did to Raiju!” Mimosa-Inahj roared as he counter attacked with a carefully planned chain of strikes, each one asking a slightly different question of Belarius. The taller Human blocked, deflected and parried as best he could but he looked quite uncomfortable in such a defensive posture. He had to get back on the front foot before the limited defences of his preferred Juyo form ran out.

“I had nothing to do with that. But you wouldn’t listen!” the Proconsul snapped. He was bemused as to why Andrelious, who he had been told was an old Imperial, was apparently set on killing him. He’d heard a few rumours that the Taldryanite had once worked alongside Raiju, but Andrelious’ reputation certainly wasn’t one of a man who kept his favours.

Mimosa-Inahj showed no signs of backing down. His attacks still came in thick and fast, not giving Belarius any kind of chance for counter-attack. As he parried another blow, the Palatinaean adjusted his feet into a far more defensive stance.

The switch from Juyo to Soresu allowed Pwyl to defend far more effectively against the continued onslaught, but Andrelious didn’t notice, or perhaps, didn’t care. His moves remained exactly the same, even as Belarius defence became a little more planned and less made up on the fly.

The Kamino rain continued to stream down as the two Sith fought, steam floating through the air as their lightsaber blades ‘consumed’ the rain. Andrelious was absolutely determined to get some kind of breakthrough, but his opponent’s blade remained stubbornly defensive, as if Belarius was waiting for his fellow Sith to make a mistake. Neither fighter moved their feet too much; they didn’t want to risk a potentially fatal slip along the wet platforms.

“Tell me, Pwyl. How did you do it? How did you murder Raiju?” Andrelious demanded between two of his typically aggressive slashes. Belarius defended each one away, but his confidence in his lesser trained form was less than absolute. Andrelious sensed his opponent’s brief uncertainty, but said nothing.

I just have to keep him defending. The opening’s coming!

“I didn’t touch the tentaclehead! He died on the front line!” Belarius shouted, almost certain he was wasting his breath.

The Taldryanite responded only with a snarl and lunged straight for Pwyl, who moved his lightsaber into yet another defensive position. The crimson blade of Andrelious’ saber crashed into its amber opposite number, and the two Sith pushed forwards as hard as they could, their blades remaining locked tightly to each other.

Realising that the saber lock was little more than a stalemate, Andrelious stared straight at his counterpart, his eyes glinting bright yellow as the dark side searched the Grand Vizier’s mind.

“I don’t see you killing Raiju,” the Seeker stated.

“I told you!” Belarius answered crossly. “You should have listened to me.”

Andrelious pulled out of the lock and moved back a little, as if ready to talk, but the Palatinaean was no longer in the mood for discussion. He made the most of the lull in combat and dug deep into the Force. Mimosa-Inahj was knocked to the floor by what seemed to be an invisible, yet powerful fist.

“Yes,” Pwyl continued. “You should have listened. But you wasted our chance for an alliance on a mere memory.”

Climbing back to his feet, Andrelious clung to his lightsaber hilt.

“Very well, Pwyl. You may not have killed Raiju. But it’s time you two met properly!” the Seeker roared, charging at Belarius again, who simply sighed and steeled himself.

It seemed likely that only one Sith was going to be walking away.