You stand at the very top of the Shadow Academy—the great pyramid of Lyspair—in the offices of the Headmaster. A fire crackles merrily in the chamber, background noise for the battle yet to come. Two comfortable couches sit in the center of the long, ovoid room. Your eyes land on the desk opposite the fireplace, filled with datapads and forms. The yellowish glows of the flames illuminate the shelves of artifacts and holo-books surrounding the upper tier of the room. This was a private study, the place where the Headmaster of the Shadow Academy met his subordinates to discuss important matters.

Your eyes track beyond the desk, to an unassuming door which will lead directly to the Headmaster's living quarters. A side door to your immediate right leads to the more public office. The opposite door, standing on the left, leads to a private sparring room. You hear the soft rush of metal and cloth as your opponent pulls their weapon. Despite the sanctity of the Headmaster's chambers, the fight is inevitable. It was meant to be. As your hand drops down to your own weapon, you shift into a combat stance and prepare to draw.

Zakath smiled inwardly as he sensed the approach of the young Kaleesh behind him, rising from the comfortable couch just as Rrogon Skar entered into the office, stopping just outside of lightsaber range as he curiously examined the room. The Sith Battlemaster coldly studied the Knight, taking note of the traditional Dathomiri robes and the ever present bone mask. Zakath's smile became visible as he finally inclined his head slightly in welcome, even as he tightened his hold on his lightsaber, gripping it in both hands.

“Rrogon.” Zakath greeted, his voice raspy. “You are brave to face me with only a lightsaber. Brave... or foolish.”

“I have nothing to lose but my life.” Skar replied icily as he ignited his lightsaber, the emerald blade flashing into existence. “Let us finish this.”

“As you wish.” Zakath bowed his head slightly as he thumbed the activation switch of his own lightsaber, the blood-red blade of a Sith appearing. Crossing it gently against Skar's own lightsaber, Zakath gave the Kaleesh a crisp nod. “I grant you the first move, Knight.”

Skar didn't bother to reply as he slashed forward, his emerald blade slicing through the air. Zakath was ready however as his blade recoiled into a block, intercepting Skar before he could cleave the Sith Battlemaster in two. Twisting his lips into a sneer of contempt, the Sith channeled his physical strength into his blade before suddenly unleashing a series of hammer blows that forced the Obelisk Knight back several steps before Skar managed to recover. The two warriors stood staring at each other over their crossed blades.

“So tell me, Rrogon,” Zakath hissed, his eyes glowing like hot purple coals as he stared at the Kaleesh. “Why did you side with the Quaestors? Misplaced loyalty? Or following your master?”

“I will not allow my home to be destroyed because of some petty power grab by the Arconae.” Skar growled softly as he tightened his grip on his lightsaber hilt. “And I will not see my master slain by the traitors.”

“Power grab?” Zakath laughed bitterly, the dim light from the fireplace giving his face a somewhat demonic cast to it. “I would argue that the Quaestors has lost their right to rule when they allowed Arcona's greatness to be eclipsed.”

Before Skar could respond, the Sith Battlemaster renewed his assault, his crimson blade recoiling into an overhead attack that came crashing into Skar's blade like a sledgehammer before recoiling again. Skar had just enough time to restore his block before the next blow came, more powerful than before, forcing the blade back toward his head before the blade recoiled again. Skar growled as he again rose his blade into a blocking position, applying greater strength to counter the blow. Zakath chuckled darkly as he stepped back a step before freeing one hand, a bolt of purple lightning erupting from it to slam into Skar, the Force generated electricity causing his muscles to twitch ever so slightly, weakening his grip on his lightsaber.

“A nice little trick, that.” Zakath said as he stepped forward to slam his blade against Skar's, throwing the Obelisk Knight backward a few steps. “I'm still learning that particular application though. Perhaps I'll improve upon it when this petty war of ours is finished.”

Skar recovered just in time to block a blow aimed at cleaving him in two, parrying it away before spinning around to face the Battlemaster, his blade poised to intercept any move the Sith might make.

“Rrogon, tell me,” Zakath growled softly as he raised his blade. “How would you feel if your master died in this struggle?”

Rrogon was put off by the question but he knew the answer in his heart before he did in his brain. Lifting his arm and pointing the end of his blade at the man he consider his grandfather. “You know exactly what I would do and how I would feel, I would hunt down the bastard that killed her and exact my unadulterated rage upon them even if it was you….” The Kaleesh paused for a second, his heart harding at the thought, his crimson eyes flicked back to his opponent, his grip tightening of the hilt of his saber.

“I will never forgive those that hurt her and will die before I let her fall.” With that said he relished his left hand grip and reached out with the Force to the nearby shelves gripping the many books and artifacts on them. Using all of his concentration he pulled most of them off and sent them hurtling towards his crewmate.

Spinning at the sound of wind behind him, Zakath’s purple glowing eyes widened as the saw the hailstorm of books and old holocrons flying at him, either dodging or cutting through was was flying at him. Rrogon, deactivating his lightsaber took this chance to charge Zakath and end this now before it got too out of hand.

Reaching out out with the Force once more Skar forced the wrist joints of the Nighthawk’s security chief to lock up for few seconds so Skar could get in close. Leaping under Zakath’s arms Rrogon spun around and landed several powerful blows to his chest and arms before Zakath could move again. When the security chief could move again the two engaged in a brutal hand to hand combat but Skar felt like he was just punching lead as Zakath used the Force to harden his skin against the furious assault of punches and kicks.

Rrogon’s quick and effective strikes seemed to be slowly getting the upperhand before a blinding light burst in front of Rogon’s eyes. Howling in pain Skar staggered back a few steps while covering his eyes before feeling a boot impact in his stomach, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying back into the nearby wall.

Blinking the spots away from his vision Skar focused on his master’s mentor as his image became clear in his eyes growling through his teeth he cursed in his native tongue and both Zakath and that this whole damn situation.

“Why Grandfather why did you betray us me and your daughter… HAVE YOU NO SHAME AT ALL OR DO YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOUR OWN POWER AT THIS POINT WOULD YOU RATHER SEE US BOTH DEAD THEN LOSE YOUR POWER!” screamed Rogon at the top of his lungs he put all of his hate and raw emotions into this statement hoping to get through to his master’s mentor.

"And what power is that, foolish child?" Zakath snarled back, his fiery violet eyes flaring. "I did not side with the Arconae for power, Rrogon. I sided with the Arconae to put an end to this foolishness. And don't believe your master sided with the Quaestors out of loyalty to the Clan! She sided with them for her own selfish reasons, not because of misplaced loyalty!"

Standing up, Rogon took a step forward, reaching up for his mask, grasping the side he ripped it off and flung it to the side. As it shattered on the floor the rage that was on his face was frightening. “Whether or not you win the pointless battle Zakath we both know who is going to win, and while we stand here fighting the war rages on around us. But we can put a stop to this right here and now just lay down your weapon please for Nath’s sake.”

“For Nath's sake?” Zakath barked out a harsh laugh as he returned the Kaleesh's furious glare. “Oh Rrogon, you have so much yet to learn. I love Nath like a daughter, but if she got in my way, I will not hesitate to kill her. I know Nath, and she feels the same way. If I get in her way, she will not hesitate to kill me if given the chance. And if you think your status as her student affords you protection, I assure you, you are gravely mistaken.”

Before Skar could respond to that, the Sith Battlemaster resumed his attack, his crimson blade arcing forward into a overhead attack. The Kaleesh Knight was able to react in time – barely – as his emerald blade sprang into life, intercepting Zakath's hammer blow and forcing the blade to slide to the side. Zakath wasn't deterred however, his bloody blade recoiling back again before slamming forward into Skar's blade, forcing the Knight back a step from the sheer strength of the blow.

Zakath's glowing eyes were now flaring into purple flames as he drew upon the Dark Side, his muscles were quickening with renewed energy as he continued his devastating smashing blows. The Sith's lightsaber was a blur of crimson energy as he furiously hammered away at Skar's weakening defense, his grip and angle of attack subtly changing with each crash of their blades, until finally, with another slight alternation to his angle, Zakath broke through the Kaleesh's defense, throwing Skar off balance long enough for the Sith to slice through the Knight's lightsaber hilt, instantly causing the jade blade to vanish.

Rrogon instantly fell back against the advancing Sith, his eyes flicking to and fro, desperately seeking options as his enemy closed in. Unfortunately for the Kaleesh, his back almost instantly hit a wall, cutting off his planned escape route.

The Sith smiled even as he breathed heavily, his pale skin appearing to be almost on fire in the light of his crimson blade as he pointed it at his trapped enemy, releasing one hand from the hilt. “Any last appeal to make, grandchild?”

“Lay down your weapon while you still can, Grandfather.” Skar growled softly, his heavy talons scraping against the stone walls as he flexed his hands. “This conflict between the members of Arcona can begin to end here and now between the two of us. The choice... is yours.”

“Bold words for a beaten foe.” Zakath replied, amused. “I'm afraid I must decline your oh-so-generous offer. My side is winning. Soon the Arconae will restore their rightful rule over Arcona, and all will be whole again. You, on the other ha-”

Before Zakath could finish, Rrogon let out a thunderous bellow as he threw one hand forward, a bolt of pure Dark Side lightning shooting out to slam into the startled Sith Battlemaster, causing him to scream in pain and rage as he stumbled back a few steps, the residual energy causing his grip on his lightsaber to collapse, sending the weapon skittering away across the office floor. Before Zakath could recover, the Kaleesh was on him, crashing his body into the Sith and sending the two crashing into the ground with Skar straddling Zakath and swinging away.

Sending punch after punch into the Sith's smug face would've granted the Kaleesh a good measure of satsification had it not for Zakath's infurating ability to harden himself against the pummeling he was now receiving, managing to bring his hands up to protect his face against Skar's assault. The Battlemaster was already drawing upon the Force, even as Skar was trying desperately to cut that off with his series of punches.

And then suddenly Zakath let loose a low rumbling growl of rage and punched upward, his fist aimed for the Kaleesh's jaw. The resulting collision was like being hit by a rocket, the Kaleesh's eyes visibly glazing even as he was pitched backward, and off Zakath.

The Sith reacted quickly, scrambling over to his lightsaber and seizing it before rising to his feet, blood-shine blade springing back into existence as he looked over to see the Kaleesh prone on the floor.

The sight made Zakath laugh as he walked over to the Kaleesh, his booted foot finding Skar's throat and applying gentle pressure. The Knight's glazed look wore off as he felt the boot on his throat, his muscles freezing up in response. His eyes flicked up to meet Zakath's, a slight wheezing being heard as he forced air into his lungs.

“You should be dead right now.” Zakath said, his voice in a conversational tone. “But I'm going to do your master a favor and let you live. You may yet be of use to her, and I know I find throwing away useful tools irritating, to say the least.”

Rrogon Skar refused to say anything, merely returning the Sith's gaze with a glare of his own, and continuing to force air into his lungs. The Sith smiled at the Kaleesh's simple defiance and bent down slightly, his free hand pointing two fingers at the Kaleesh's eyes.

Skar's eyes instantly locked onto the fingers for a brief second- and purple fire was the last thing he saw before his world was plunged into a fiery blackness, a wail of stabbing burning pain erupting from his eyes to spread throughout his skull.

“Your sight will return after your eyes receive medical treatment.” Zakath chuckled as he returned his lightsaber to his belt. “A little lightning doesn't leave permanent damage- I think. In the meantime, do me a favor and let Nath know that she still has my love and that I look forward to seeing her after this drama of ours is over. And reconsider your foolish notions of loyalty. It has no place here in the Brotherhood.”

Zakath gazed down at the blinded Kaleesh grasping pitifully at his eyes, shook his head slightly, and walked away.

Rrogon’s words fell upon deaf ears and Zakath wasted no time to charge the Kaleesh. The two combatants clashed in a thunderous assault, crimson and emerald blades met in a furious strikes neither side giving any ground to each other.

As their blades met over and over again it seemed like Skar was losing his upper hand by the second. “Come on Zakath listen to me, I dont want to fight you. This whole conflict is pointless,” Skar said as he was pushed back into one of the side rooms.

"Then lower your own blade," Zakath hissed as he pulled back for another attack. "I am the superior warrior here, and yet you have the gall to issue demands to your master's master. How arrogant of you. Has it never occurred to you that I think that the Arconaes’ cause is just? That the Quaestors' cause is wrong? Foolish child, you have much to learn."

Skar lept back from Zakath and deactivated his lightsaber hoping that this would end the fight. “Alright my blade is down, now lower yours.” Lowering the saber to his side he hooked the the silver hilt side of his robes.

Zakath's eyes narrowed slightly as he stepped back cautiously, lowering his blade but keeping it ignited. "A spark of intelligence appears in your mind, after all. There may be hope for you yet."

“ I never wanted to be in the predicament in the first place grandfather but Cethegus told all of us that we will fight or we die and I would rather live.” leaning up against the near by wall Skar’s breath came ragged and quick “Damn i think you might have broken a rib or two.”

"Mm. Cethgus ordering you to fight or die. How very... " Zakath let a grin smile touch his lips as he kept his blade in front of him as he slowly began to step away towards the entrance. "Inspiring of loyalty."

Sliding down the wall Skar just sat there for a few seconds. “Just go Zakath the fight is over you have won. Maybe Cethegus will have mercy on me for letting you go but I die either way so I don't care they will fail in the end, there pride will kill them.”

Zakath paused at the entrance to the office and gazed at the defeated Kaleesh before letting a slight smirk appear on his lips. "If the Arconae falls due to being weaker, then so be it. Such is the way of Sith. As for you personally, you could always try to appeal to your master's good grace. She's Cethgus' mate, after all."

Skar did not respond for several seconds the only sound in the office was Zakath’s inhaling and exhaling slowing falling to his side Skar simply laid there a slow trickle of blood flowing from his mouth. The life had passed from the young kaleesh eyes as he lay there but a grin was ever present on his face. Skar died a happy man and his ancestors would greet him well in the afterlife, he fought and died for what he believed in and thats all they would ask for.