The Vertical City, Nar Shaddaa. They call it the Smuggler's Moon—an apt description based on the myriad of sentients shuffling back and forth with their illegal wares and hidden weapons. The narrow streets below criss-cross endlessly, soaring miles above the planet's surface. Exposed and uncovered, the streets offer a nearly perfect setting for someone with some skills with ranged weapons. A vantage point on the ledge of a towering structure of glass and steel offers a dizzying view of the cityscape.

Simple shops and merchants peddle both legitimate and illegitimate wares. Storefronts are just as plentiful as open-market pop-up tents, and the cantina's adapt the same lowlife air as the rest of the Smuggler's Moon. Enemies could be hidden in plain sight, whether one of the Hutts’ gangsters or mercenaries-for-hire looking to earn some credits. The streets are plagued with violent gangs and the general riff raff of the poor and destitute. They may be an ideal place for blasters, but the winding streets are difficult to disappear from. An opponent would be easily boxed in and simple to finish with a few quick slashes of a lightsaber. The moon is dangerous—even for one gifted in the Force.

Nar Shaddaa, a cesspool of a moon inside Hutt controlled territory. Scoundrels, bounty hunters and anyone looking to disappear, could discover a utopian playground to easily lose themselves within it’s underbelly. Well, fairly easily for some. To the not so skillfully trained pursuer, one could hideout long enough amongst that wretchedness and garner themselves a ride off the moon. Leaving any would be pursuers high and dry, clueless of their target’s whereabouts.

Now to the trained eye, that same task can be a bit more difficult for the prey. Tonight would be nothing but bad karma for anyone designated as the prey. Currently, one formidable hunter was in pursuit of one Collective Technocratic Guild Huntress. This Collective agent seemingly “walked” away with Clan Naga Sadow's military locales within the Orian sector. On this evening however, under the veil of the blackened sky, Battlelord Takagari “DarkHawk” KogaRyu traversed the rooftops of the club district without any assistive equipment, stealthily moving expeditiously from rooftop to rooftop. The Shaevalian masking himself briefly within the shadows, watching his target move through the streets over his helm’s HUD, thanks to the help of the Quaestor’s Viper Probot “VP” streaming real-time surveillance of the Kiffar woman.

VP moved in predatory increments as it stalked the Huntress. Staying high enough above the streets and purposely keeping itself shrouded within the shadows. The probe droid, for the moment drew no attention to itself. The Huntress moved easily through the streets, pushing through the crowd without drawing attention to herself. Technocrat Huntress’s are known as notorious assassins, this one was no different. Ever so vigilant, always assessing her surroundings. The Huntress did not have to look towards the night sky to catch a glimpse of her mechanical stalker. The flashing neon lights of the club district inadvertently cast VP’s shadow across the street. The tunic of her red Nightsisters robe flowed in the night wind as she picked up her pace. The tunic suddenly snapping violently with an audible “POP” as the Kiffar veered hard a right into one of the many back allies of the district.

The Battlelord caught the sudden movement of the Huntress, “Damn! We’ve been made VP…” DarkHawk said into his comlink. Without hesitation the Questor sprinted off in the direction of the Huntress, hoping his prey was not lost.

Meanwhile…

Mystic Xolarin watched as the Huntress darted from the street and into an alley. Xolarin, also on the hunt for the Collective asset, had tracked the Huntress’s arrival to Nar Shaddaa a few hours ago. Unaware that the same contract was commissioned to his brethren, inevitably putting their paths on the same collision course. Before beginning his pursuit, Xolarin watched a blacked out probe droid racing above the streets in the direction of the Huntress.

“Great...competition,” the Mystic said to himself. Nar Shaddaa does not welcome Force users, especially those of the Brotherhood. Not to mention this chase was closing in on Grakkus the Hut’s immediate backyard. “She is a shrewd one. Lead the wolves to the den and let the pack do your dirty work. The last thing I need is for this to reach the attention of the Huts,” he thought to himself. Xolarin lost sight of the probe droid, although the Markosian caught a subtle movement slithering through the shadows. Witnessing a wraith leap into the alley from the rooftops, Xolarin could not ignore the familiar presence the Force had brought to his attention.

“DarkHawk..?” he said to himself

The Mystic raced towards the alley, a plume of light grey vapors wafted out from the alleyway and drifted up into the night sky. Xolarin skidded to a stop before entering the alley. The mist was quickly dissipating, Xolarin however, could detect a faint sweet aroma coming from the vapors. The probe droid he spotted earlier, raced passed the Mystic and raised itself high above the street again. A silhouette of another figure could be seen breaking through the dissolving mist. Xolarin had little problem recognizing the Dakhani Quaestor, immediately identifying the state of confusion his friend exhibited.

DarkHawk stumbled to his knees, nearly falling face first into the litter ridden alley. Now, the pungent smell of urine and vomit became overwhelmingly present as the Mystic began to step towards his collegue. “Stay back...Dream...Dreamdust,” DarkHawk struggled to speak.

“Great...there goes the neighborhood.” Xolarin said sarcastically.

DarkHawk struggled with his thoughts, confusion set in. The streets melted around him, what was previously tangible, now dripped like wet paint. Xolarin was three meters away at the alley’s entrance, and DarkHawk could not identify his distorted figure . The hallucinogenic properties of the Dreamdust had taken hold of the Equite. Xolarin was no longer Xolarin, standing before the Shaevalian was none other than the Huntress he was commissioned to eliminate. DarkHawk’s vision distorted, in and out of focus until he could clearly recognize the Huntress before him. Nightsister bow drawn and plasma arrowed nocked, the small grin across her face. DarkHawk immediately unsheathed his two piece electro-staff and stampeded towards what he thought was the Huntress. Wielding his weapon in each hand, the electric energy crackled from the staff's electrode discharging it's yellow flickering pulses. The electromagnetic generator fizzed and crackled, moisture hissed and popped making contact brought vibrant, teeming sensation to the air within the alley.

Xolarin, taken back at the sight of his friend lunging at him in a berserker rage. The Mystic’s precognition allowed him to successfully dodge the first attack from the stampeding Battlelord. Xolarin tightly crouched his body under the wide arching attack, and continued to reposition his body away from the incoming blow. Acknowledging his strike was ill timed and off target, DarkHawk went directly into a forward roll. Coming out of the roll, the Battlelord lashed out with a backhand strike attempting to plant the business end of the staff into Xolarin’s exposed right flank. Xolarin was able to deflect the brunt of the blow with the Inquisitorius Stiletto he carried. The force behind the blow still sent the Mystic into an alley wall with a deep thud, causing Xolarin to collapse to his knees. He winced in pain as the martial exchange resonated through his entire body.

“Alright DH, we can do this your way…” Xolarin said through gritted teeth.

DarkHawk did not recognize his comrade's casual mention of himself and came at him again, striking again and again in an array of differing strokes and moves. The Juyo expert was using his combat prowess with the electrostaff. It took everything Xolarin had to dodge and block and parry once he had his own lightsaber out and lit.

The pursuit continued as if the Battlelord wanted more than to disable his fellow Clan-mate. He was after blood, or perhaps burn. The electrocution would have been much more painful a fate than a lightsaber strike. But the stronger, more skills opponent pressed on quite hard.

Xolarin shuddered as the Dreamdust began to grapple with his own mind. He needed a quick second, but there was a shimmer of his friendly-opponent that made it hard. He extended his off-hand and pushed out his ki to slam into DH, which knocked him back a couple steps and stopped the onslaught for a few breaths. With that brief pause, Xolarin focused on his own resolve and fortitude, and tried to center himself. He would bend the will of the Force itself to ensure the two friends got out of this not dead.

The Dreamdust had affected his mind, and yet he didn't realize it. Xolarin managed to mitigate the severity, but he was still tricked as DarkHawk drew his double lightsaber instead of the electrostaff. The staff was still in use, but Xolarin saw the saber. And now he feared his friend truly did want to end him quite decisively.

"Ok, hold on a second, DH," Xolarin began, but was interrupted by a sudden clenching of his throat. The air going into his windpipe slowed, his lungs started to struggle, and his eyes opened broadly as he realized it was DH. His lightsaber shut off and dropped to the ground as Xolarin attempted to push back with his will. It was of little use, his vision starting to blur.

"Acchhh," he chortled out. One hand held his throat as the other stretched out, letting the choke get stronger. But with that hand he focused on the light, however sparse, around them. His hand glowed into a insanely bright light, closing his own eyes to keep the focus.

"Ahhh!" yelled the Shaevalian, as the hold on Xolarin's neck was instantly released. Instead of seeing the Huntress, he saw brightness and then nothingness, ducking down and away from the light for a brief moment.

Xolarin breathed in deeply, recovering the missing air and regaining his composure. He was sore from the initial toss, worn from the quick battle, and now his lungs were aching. "DH... Master Takagari, we have to stop..." His words were shouted whispers at best.

DarkHawk cocked his head at the final statement, trying to rationalize why the Kiffar woman would want to stop, or call him by these names. But the Dreamdust still had its hold, not quite run out of his lungs and mind yet. He lashed out spastically with his left hand towards Xolarin, casting a wide, wild spread of lightning towards his foe. The tendrils of energy, somewhat matching the energy coils on his staff (or the color of his lightsaber blades, as Xolarin saw it), circled around the area, singeing the alley walls and ground, but also grabbing onto Xolarin's arms and a bit of his torso. He writhed in pain, falling down to the ground.

"You're better than this, you fool," the Mystic managed in his already-strained voice. Xolarin had to think fast if he wanted to survive this, let alone help his colleague and find their mutual tartget.

DarkHawk’s mind continued distorting the reality around him. Xolarin kept morphing into that of the Kiffar Huntress, before momentarily mutating back into House Marka Ragnos’s Quaestor. The Sith’s mind struggled to string coherent thoughts together, nevertheless unable to decipher the verity of the moment. DarkHawk reached out to the Force for guidance, despite his efforts, the Equite did not prevail his attempts at clarity. The Dreamdust had invaded his mind, the more DarkHawk struggled the deeper it seemed to take hold. Xolarin’s words began to echo through the Shaevalian’s consciousness, “You’re better than this, you fool...”

The brief pause in the action allowed Xolarin to seize the moment. Rolling forward towards the bewildered wraith, the Markosian came up to his feet directly in front of his comrade. The Mystic was able to snag one half of DarkHawk’s electro staff in the process of his maneuver. Xolarin buried the electrode into the meat of his brethren’s thigh. The electromagnetic pulses reverberated throughout the Equite’s body. DarkHawk bellowed in pain, then began to slump forward into Xolarin. The Mystic dropped the half-staff and clutched DarkHawk’s seemingly lifeless body.

“DarkHawk! DarkHawk!” Xolarin shouted.

Between the hallucinogenic properties of the drug and now the blistering pain from the electro-staff, Takagari fought for lucid moment. Clenching at Xolarin’s tunic, the Mystic could sense his old friend struggling to maintain consciousness.

“Xol...my head is burning not much time, stop the Huntress, she is…”

Before DarkHawk could finish his statement, a plasma arrow pierced cleanly through the Equite’s right shoulder and sprayed a thin coating of blood across the Mystic’s face.

“DH!” Xolarin shouted.

The Mystic looked up to see where the attack was coming from. Through the foggy veil of the alley, Xolarin could see the Huntress positioned on a dumpster, pulling an object from a hidden pocket of her Nightsister’s armor. DarkHawk could feel himself slowly losing his grasp on reality, the pain in his shoulder was excruciating. Xolarin could not make out the object in the Huntress’s hand, the first thing that came to his mind was…

“Dreamdust!” Xolarin screamed.

DarkHawk drank from the Force and with his depleting strength pushed Xolarin clear from the alley and any imminent danger. Xolarin seemingly floated backwards over the cobblestone street, stopping abruptly from the aid and abetment of his comrade’s action. The Mystic drew his DDC Defender blaster and fired three quick shots towards the Kiffar assassin. The first shot was slightly high and two the right. The second and third hit their mark. The Kiffar woman screamed in pain as the blaster bolts caught her exposed forearm and hand. Her vial of poison erupted around her, the recoil of the attack caused her to stagger back losing her footing atop the dumpster. The Huntress crashed to the cobblestone drowning in her own weapon’s hallucinogenic mist.

Xolarin watched as the mist of the Dreamdust once again began to creep through the alley. The Huntress shook her head violently, trying to shake off the drugs effect. The grey mist mugged the Kiffar like a wet blanket, she choked and gagged as the hallucigen reached her palette.

DarkHawk was sprawled out near the alley’s entrance, avoiding the direct onslaught of the Huntress’s failed attack. The Huntress gripped the crevices of the brick wall with her fingers, pulling herself to her feet. Before she could square herself off to any incoming attacks, Xolarin was already charging at her. The Mystic lowered his left shoulder and buried it deep into the Kiffars torso. The impact sent the Collective assassin crashing into the sidewall of the dumpster. Her dreadlocks flailed across her face as she came to a painful stop.

The Huntress now enveloped by her own hallucinogen, could not combat its effects. Her reality now dripping pools of blood, snapshots of her previous kills taunting her mind. She wildly lashed out with her baton, only making impact against the brick walls of the alley. Xolarin seizing the opportunity, moved in for the kill, the distinct sound of his saber activating recoiled off the narrow alleyway.

The Huntress lunged at her attacker, only to land a grazing blow across the Mystic’s left tricep. Quickly repositioning his stance from a closed to open stance, the Sokan practitioner moved instinctively as he executed a one handed cartwheel away from the Huntress’s attacks. Her clouded mindset caused her to over extend her attack and Xolarin took pleasure in his counter attack. Bringing his saber up in a tight counter-clockwise arc the Mystic severed the arm of the huntress. Following through his first strike, Xolarin carried his saber’s momentum up and separated the Kiffar’s head from her torso. Her appendages collapsed against the cobblestone painting the stones with her thick crimson blood.

Xolarin lowered his saber, the commotion behind him caused the Mystic to spin around saber at the ready.

DarkHawk eventually gave up on the lightning and walked slowly over to Xolarin's weakened body. He laughed, fairly maniacally. "You don't understand, Huntress." He kept moving towards his foe, the one he thought was their Kiffar Collective female, his electrostaff twirling a few times. "I am indeed better than this, and I've let you get too far."

Xolarin cocked his head at an angle at being called a huntress. Something was going on here, and he was starting to figure it out. "Dreamdust!" The lightsaber that was twirling came too close for comfort for the fallen Jedi, ducking his head unnecessarily a couple times.

DarkHawk shook his head, his eyes a bit cooky. "What? That's all you have to say?" He swung his staff around one last time and slammed it towards the ground at Xolarin. He willed enough control to dodge the single attack, the staff sparking as it hit the surface and not his target.

The Markosian gasped as he barely missed the attack, and then he had a thought. He bopped his wristband and called out. "Dina, now."

The Dakhani squinted his eyes, looking quizzically at the woman on the ground. "You're crazier than you are dangerous, lady." He raised his staff to level another strike down on her when a small black droid hovered over near them. He had the urge to use his energy on it, but decided against it. It had no weapons and was already engaging a hologram near the two.

The hologram showed the alley they were in. There was one figure running through, the woman DH had trapped on the ground. Shortly after her came DH himself. But then something happened - a barely-noticeable change in the smog around them, and the woman running off. The figure of DH slumped to his knees, with his Clan-mate Xolarin following behind.

The two soon began to fight, as if they wanted to kill each other. A nightsister bow and a dual-lightsaber ended up being Xolarin's lightsaber and DarkHawk's electrostaff. It was not the fight either of them had witnessed on their own. It was confusing to say the least, as if watching a dream captured by this droid.

Xolarin used the opportunity to roll close and fling the heel of his boot into DH's gut. The distracted man dropped his lightsaber and stammered for air. Xolarin used his momentum and continued the move to clamp DH with his legs and drag him down to the ground on his side. Again, the slam caused his stomach and lungs to evacuate air, DH's body gasping for more.

"Sorry, friend," he said softly. The air would do DarkHawk some good to clear his mind and body. Dina had shut off the hologram and hovered back into the shadows in the corner. And the two men laid there for a brief moment simply breathing heavily.

"Not exactly what you had in mind, today, eh?" asked Xolarin finally.

DarkHawk shook his head as he rolled over onto his back. He took one large breath and exhaled a huge sigh. "What the actual...?!"