A pair of massive, ancient doors loom at the entrance to the throne room. Upon opening, they give way to a large chamber with a high ceiling carved smoothly into stone. The chamber itself is the size of a professional holo-ball court but the hard-tile flooring has been sandblasted to perfection and patterned symmetrically throughout. Tall, rounded pillars frame a center dais that forms an elevator platform. Perfectly centered on the low platform is the heart of Clan Arcona's power—the Serpentine Throne. The ornate throne stands several feet above the head of even the tallest Shadow Lords. The dais is back lit by an ever glowing wall of flame that attunes itself to the order-color of the current Consul. A sable carpet trimmed with white lays down over the shallow steps and continues all the way towards the entrance doors.

The Throne Room is completely soundproofed and almost feels like entering a vacuum. Voices carry easily, but never leave the chamber. A combination of alchemy and engineering allow the room to be shut off from the rest of the Citadel while maintaining proper ventilation for the unique curtain of flame. It maintains a steady if not warm room temperature, ignorant to the climate outside and throughout the Citadel's ancient walls.

Perhaps the most defining feature of the Throne Room is the wall of flames that curtain behind the throne itself.

The air was still within the throne room. The only sounds were the quiet crackle of the curtain of orange flames that burned behind the massive Serpentine Throne, and the click of Lucine’s boots as she strode across the floor. It had recently become her habit to visit the throne room whenever she was certain it was empty, and she had come to cherish these times.

She took in a deep, reverent breath as she approached the massive, ornately carved throne. The seat of Arcona’s power, and one of the two things she currently wanted more than anything. She had so many schemes in the works. If they came to fruition, then the throne would be hers. She allowed herself a moment of exultation as she considered the power she would wield, and the doors that would open up for her. The Serpentine Throne would be the first, and most important step.

But the moment was abruptly ended as the massive doors that led to the throne room opened and slammed shut, followed shortly by the slow, steady cadence of heels clicking on the floor. Lucine stifled a flash of irritation at the interruption and turned to see Satsi stalking toward her.

The scarred woman’s almond-shaped eyes blazed with barely contained fury, and her scarlet-painted lips were pressed into a thin line. She had the look of a woman on a mission. Lucine drew herself up to her full height as the woman approached.

Satsi paused a few feet away, and the two women regarded each other in silence for a few tense seconds. It was Satsi who spoke first. “I thought I’d find ya here, schutta.” Her ordinarily lazy drawl was gone. Instead, her words were clipped and terse.

Lucine raised a single, perfectly sculpted brow. “You thought? Well, I suppose there is a first time for everything.” She kept her voice even, not allowing herself to show any of the tension she felt.

The Mercenary’s face split into a wide, razor-sharp smile. “Oh, I’ve been doin’ a lot of thinkin’ lately, Pretty Eyes. Thinkin’ about what happened to Kordy. Thinkin’ about who would benefit most from his dyin’. Thinkin’ about who would be cowardly enough to have him shot in the back.”

“And naturally, you assume that I am responsible,” Lucine replied in a bored tone. “Nevermind the fact that it was my job to make sure he stayed alive. Has it ever occurred to you that your disdain for me is coloring your perception?”

“Has it ever occurred to you, she-akk, that you’re not as subtle as you think you are? You think I don’t see the moves you’re makin’? Gettin’ yourself completely wrapped up in the daily workin’s of the Clan? You think I don’t see how badly you wanna sit on that frakkin’ chair?” Satsi lashed her hand toward the Serpentine Throne to emphasize her point in a single, curt motion. Lucine did not flinch at the movement. “I know you had somethin’ to do with what happened to Kordy, and you better believe I am gonna frakkin’ find out exactly what.”

Lucine felt frustration bubbling beneath her outward mask of calmness. Of course, Satsi thought she was responsible for what happened to Kordath. Lucine could not blame her for making that assumption. Lucine’s disdain for Kordath was well known, but for once, she was not responsible for the attempt on his life. No, that honor belonged to another: her lover, a man who wanted the throne almost as much as she did.

But she refused to any of her emotions show. She would not allow Satsi to see her mask slip—at least, not until the time was right. Instead, she gave a quiet chuckle. “Frankly, darling, it does not matter that you think, or what you suspect, or whatever paranoid delusion your little reptilian brain has concocted. I had nothing to do with what happened to Kordath, no matter how badly you want it to be otherwise.”

Satsi’s eyes searched Lucine’s face for any sign of deception, but Lucine kept her expression neutral, free of any guilt or malice. For once, her conscience was clear. Finally, the Mercenary sighed and settled back on her heels. The tension left her posture, but she continued to glare fiercely at the redhead.

“Satisfied?” Lucine’s words were met only with Satsi’s glare. “Fine. If you will excuse me, darling, I am beginning to find your company to be tiresome.”

She knew she was potentially making a mistake, but it could not be helped. She knew that Satsi had come here for a fight, and would not be satisfied until she had one. She also knew the level of surveillance that blanketed the Citadel. There was little doubt that their little confrontation was being monitored. All she needed was for the Mercenary to throw the first punch. Then she could claim self-defense for everything that came afterward.

It came as no surprise when she felt the icy fingers of the Force run up her spine, warning her of the impending attack. She dropped into a crouch to avoid a devastating kick as Satsi’s leg sailed above her head. The Mercenary completed the pivot and planted the foot she had just kicked with. Lucine drew upon all of her anger and hatred and channeled the energy into her muscles to give herself strength. She turned, raising her hand to block as Satsi lashed out with her opposite leg in a low kick. The strength of the Mercenary’s attack sent a vibration up Lucine’s arm and into her shoulder, but she ignored the pain as best she could.

Lucine grabbed Satsi’s leg and rose into a standing position, using her Force-augmented strength to throw Satsi off balance. The Mercenary fell backward with a grunt, but hastily kicked her legs up and outward to leap into a standing position. As she regained her feet, Lucine took advantage of the opportunity to put some distance between the two of them.

“You know, darling,” Lucine said as she drew once more on the Force, “I do believe this is a good opportunity to settle our differences.” Her form blurred, and two more redheads stepped away from the first. One circled to Satsi’s left, the other to her right. Each wore a wicked grin.

Satsi fell into a fighting stance, her hands balled into fists as she offered each of the redheads a bloodthirsty grin. “Ya know, schutta, I was thinkin’ the same thing. Let’s settle this. Permanently.”

Satsi, predictably, went in for a right jab first, followed quickly by a spinning kick that the Lucine she targeted dodged away from with just as much speed and alacrity as the real Force-User would. That made the smile on her scarred face look remarkably similar to a bare-toothed grimace.

But just like Lucine, the real Lucine, knew some of her opponent's typical fighting moves by now — because she was much too dangerous not to analyze extensively over their years in...acquaintance — she knew better than to make as simple of a fool's error as to reveal her illusion by allowing them to be touched. While it was within her ability to make the other woman's brain think she was hitting a real person, to mimic the sensation of flesh against flesh in her synapses, it required a great deal more concentration than she was willing to spare. Not when she had to plan.

Straining to the edges of her mental reserves, Lucine wrapped the Force around her in a cloak of shadow even as she left yet a third pantomime of herself in her place, standing ready and watching the fight with hand on her saber hilt. When Satsi knifed about in another high kick to counter one illusion's palm-strike at her, Lucine took one single step back and stopped. Her cloak disrupted with the movement, but returned when she stilled again, still focusing, teeth grit. Sweat sheened on her brow, and her head throbbed. It wasn't unlike trying to solve a complex equation with a migraine. In a brightly lit room. Beside a cantina band.

But she managed, and repeated the process. Every time the Mercenary's back turned, the Sith retreated one pace. Stopped. Did it again. Slowly, she inched for the nearest pillar of stone. If she could hide behind it, she would be in a much more advantageous position to maintain her illusions without the immediate concern for her own person as a target—

The Force's wail sounded very, very far away to her currently overclocking mind, but she heard it still, just before the clink-clink she knew all too well to associate with Satsi.

A heartbeat later, the flashbang went off.

BOOM.

White bright noise. A sharp crack. Pain lancing up the back of her neck and into the base of her skull, like a spike had been driven through her cranial floor. Lucine cried out, muscles coiling instinctively to drop her to her knees in a flinch. Her hands went uselessly over her ears, and she rapidly blinked to dislodge tears while phantom colors blurred her vision. She'd been a little bit away and not directly facing the device; her sight wasn't as impaired as it could have been.

But she couldn't hear anything—

Sneering, she took what was likely the smartest course of action and threw herself to the side, knowing Satsi would take advantage of her disorientation. As she tucked and rolled upright, fiery hair wild around her face, she saw she was right: the Mercenary was standing from a crouch, that short lightsaber of hers in her grip, yanking it free of the molten hole of superheated stone she'd stabbed into the floor, dripping magma around her booted heels.

Distantly, the Sith felt a flare of irritation. That had been a perfectly fine floor. This would be her throne room soon, and still the other Human had to muck it up, like so much else.

It was a thought quickly discarded, though, as Satsi charged again, lunging across the short distance and swinging to take Lucine's head off like a mountaineer hacking away vegetation with a machete. The redhead had only a breath to think before she brought up her left arm and braced herself.

The plasma blade stopped in its tracks with a screaming shower of scarlet sparks and the stink of smoking silk. Satsi's narrow eyes widened briefly in surprise as the lightsaber failed to lop Lucine's arm in two, and she snarled, silent to Lucine's punctured eardrums.

The beautiful, luxurious fabric of her azure outer robes melted away at the cross of the blade, the rest of the sleeve dropping down to the crook of her bent elbow, revealing the Champion's bracer that hugged her arm over her skin-tight body armor. The intricately carved, alchemy-treated metal glinted in the glow of the weapon burning against it, unable to eat through.

"Nice try, darling," the Sith purred, and in her free dominant hand, activated her own emerald blade. Satsi's face contorted in anger-panic-instinct as she disengaged, scrambling away from the elegant swipe of verdant plasma, but not fast enough to avoid a graze. The cloying stench of burnt meat filled the air between them, Satsi falling to a knee while clutching at her side, and Lucine took the opportunity to channel some of her power into mending her damaged ears.

It was remarkably satisfying to be able to hear the other woman's growl of pain when she peeled her own smoldering shirt off, ripping it away where it had melted to her skin with a nasty spray of blood and an even worse noise. Lucine actually flinched a bit. But Satsi just choked her yowl behind a clenched jaw and tossed the fabric away. It handed in a little puddle, where a flame grew then sputtered out and stank even worse. The Sith wrinkled her nose.

"Karking hutt-slime," Satsi hissed, hair stuck to her face with sweat and breathing labored. Lucine drew herself upright and twisted her body, poised almost in pirouette as she raised her saber in front of her in a loose two-fingered grip and lifted her off-arm out behind her for balance.

The Quaestor merely smiled, cold. "Would you care to try again, dearie?"

The goad was as good as any; Lucine was confident in her ability as a saberist against many, but especially against one without the Force. They simply hadn't the skill for sabercraft. It was simple bait, but Satsi in her anger was prone to simplicity, and the other Human was very angry, she could see. Angry and in agony.

"You know," growled the Mercenary, tone high with hurt and a weal of branded flesh bright, angry red across her abdomen, "I was going to shoot you in the back just like was done to Kordy. Would serve you right, whether it was you or whether you just let it happen. But now..."

She lifted the saber again, bloody hand falling from her wound to brace on the ground, legs chambering, muscles coiling to spring.

"Now I think I just want to carve off your frakking face."

Satsi launched herself at Lucine like a bullet from the barrel of a gun.

Despite the fact that Lucine’s ears were still ringing from the flashbang, she could still hear Satsi’s shriek of rage as she closed the distance between them. Lucine only had a few heartbeats to study the situation, to observe the way the woman’s eyes burned and the way her lips were peeled back in a snarl of hatred. She held her lightsaber with the tip angled toward Lucine’s face, intent on making good on her threat.

Then the Mercenary drew near enough to attack. She shoved the short lightsaber forward with all of her strength. Lucine brought her own weapon around to deflect the blow. She could barely hear the loud crackling noise as the two blades violently clashed together. Satsi followed up with a quick jab aimed at the side of Lucine’s head. The Sith jumped backward, narrowly avoiding the blow.

Fueled by her anger and sensing victory, Satsi pressed her advantage, hammering her lightsaber against Lucine’s defense. There was no finesse to her attacks, just raw power and brute force.

“Schutta!” Satsi howled as she hacked at Lucine. “Poisonous frakkin’ snake!” Every blow caused the Sith to step backwards and caused her icy fury to grow. But she would not allow her anger to control her actions, as Satsi did. Instead, she forced herself to maintain a cold clarity as she observed the other woman’s movements.

“Yes, darling, I am aware of the fact that you dislike me. But for the life of me, I cannot understand why.” She kept her voice calm, refusing to show the dull headache that throbbed behind her ears from her judicious use of the Force a few minutes ago. She would need to conserve her resources. To make Satsi wear herself out until the time was right to strike the decisive blow.

“Because I know what you are,” Satsi growled. “I’ve seen your kind before. I know what you’ll do if you’re given even the smallest amount of power. Kordy was just the first, but he won’t be the last if you get your way.” Her almond eyes search Lucine’s still figure, searching for any sign of weakness in her form. Her muscles bunched beneath scarred skin as she prepared to launch her next volley of attacks. “And I won’t let that happen!” she howled as she darted forward and brought her lightsaber to bear.

Sparks flew as their lightsabers met, Lucine using her weapon to push Satsi’s to the side. The Mercenary pivoted and jerked her elbow back to land a blow against the side of the Sith’s head. Lucine pushed this attack aside as well. Given that they were too close to kick effectively, Satsi decided to use her head. With a grunt, slammed her forehead against the redhead’s face.

Stars exploded before Lucine’s eyes as she felt the cartilage of her nose crunch beneath the impact. She did not need a medic to tell her that it was likely broken, and would leave a horrific bruise. She stumbled back a few paces, barely bringing her lightsaber up in time to deflect Satsi’s vicious, overhand strike.

Anger accompanied the pain, and with it came the memory of their last encounter. When Satsi had cut out her teeth and left her unconscious form in the dark alley, unprotected against the predators who lurked there. The things that had happened to her as a result. Lucine had tried to put it behind her, tried to ignore the woman’s very existence. But the woman had continued to try to push her buttons, slandering her, heaping abuse after abuse onto her. One way or another, it was going to end today.

“You really are nothing more than a rabid dog,” the Sith hissed as her fingers tightened around the hilt of her lightsaber. Her hands shook with barely concealed rage. Even over the ringing in her ears, her voice had a high nasal quality to it. She felt warm wetness on her face and tasted blood as she spoke. “A disgusting creature who will not be content until you have infected everyone with your illness.”

Satsi only growled in response and lashed out with her lightsaber. Lucine took a step back, deflecting the mercenary’s blade before bringing her own weapon around in a riposte. Satsi twisted out of the way, twisting her body to aim a kick at Lucine. The redhead brought her arm up and blocked the kick, but did not press the attack. Instead, she took another step backward.

She could not hear the roar of flames over the ringing in her ears, but she could feel the heat of the curtain of flame that roared behind her. Her back was against the wall. She did not dare look behind her to see how far she was from the fire but guessed that she stood mere feet from the flames.

Lucine’s eyebrows lifted and her eyes widened slightly in what she hoped was a convincing expression of surprise. Satsi saw this and grinned, her smile dark and feral. Clearly, this had been her intent all along. “How quick do you think all that product in your hair’s gonna burn, schutta?” She did not wait for a response. Instead, the Mercenary rushed forward, bringing her lightsaber around in a wide arc.

This was the moment Lucine took in a quick breath and pushed all of her icy rage into her muscles, giving them strength. She dropped her lightsaber.and twisted, using her cloak to obscure her movements. Lucine stepped within the other woman’s range and grabbed her wrist, twisting the lightsaber away from herself. Her other hand closed around Satsi’s throat as she used the Mercenary’s momentum to push her into the fire.

Flames immediately began to lick at the leather that encased Satsi’s legs. The Mercenary screamed and kicked, trying to remove herself from danger. But Lucine held her there with her augmented strength. She could feel the fire burning her hands just as it burned Satsi, and the pain robbed her of the concentration needed to maintain her grip on the Force and on her enemy.

She released Satsi, trying not to wince at the angry red burns that seared her flesh. Freed from Lucine’s restraining grip, Satsi pushed away from the fire, screeching and howling as the fire consumed her boots and pants and greedily licked at the scarred flesh of her legs, causing her skin to turn first to an angry red, then to a blackened char.

Lucine watched in morbid fascination as the fire as it consumed her. It was then that her eyes fell upon the metallic objects that hung from Satsi’s belt, dangerously close to the burning leather. The Force screamed a warning, but Lucine was already moving, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and the burning woman.

A series of percussive thumps were her only warning before she was struck from behind by a wall of force. It hurled her violently into one of the pillars. Her head cracked against unyielding stone, and she felt rather than heard a few of her ribs snap with the impact. The Sith tumbled to the floor in a mass of agony.

Her head rang and red spots nearly obscured her vision. At that moment, the pain was so intense that she would have gladly laid down and died. But she would not. Not until she was certain that Satsi was dead first.

Somehow, Lucine managed to get to her feet, though she swayed in place, dangerously close to falling again. She turned to face her enemy, but Satsi was gone. In her place, she saw only a twisted mass of mangled meat and twisted cybernetics. Lucine nearly cried at the sight of it, but if it was from pain or relief, she did not know.

Lucine’s rage left her, and her strength with it. Too exhausted to remain standing, she collapsed first to her knees and then to the cool stone floor. Her vision blurred and the darkness threatened to consume her. The last thing she saw before the last of her consciousness fled was the Serpentine Throne and the flames that burned brightly behind it.