Two towering, tinted, transparisteel doors slide open to grant you access to the central chamber of the Combat Training Halls. The main room is wide and open and as large as as a holoball field. Tall walls stretch towards a domed ceiling that is made up of rows of ambient lights that spread out and fill the room with soft even lighting that eliminates any shades or shadows. Those same walls are lined around the perimeter with racks and stacks of varied weaponry: everything from swords and polearms to rifles and flamethrowers.

There are two signs that hover over each weapon rack to create an alternating motif in the Combat Training Hall: “No Explosions” and “Accorded Neutral Territory”. While the first is fairly obvious, the second speaks to the single law of the Training Halls: all members of the Brotherhood are welcome, and no member is to be killed or maimed without incurring the wrath of the Grand Master and the Inquisitorius.

A trio of training dummies are statically set up and spread out in a line, each made out of a blend of alloys and padding that can withstand blows from any standard weaponry with the exception of lightsaber blades. To the side of the dummies, a large sparring mat has been stretched out to create a larger footprint than the typical shockboxing ring. The padding is good for helping teach new combat students how to take a fall without injury and offers firm footing, but the hard rubber mat is hardly forgiving.

Behind the sparring area is a door that leads to a small archives that combat students can use to view holorecordings of fights and duels from the past as well as relevant information on combat tactics, techniques, and forms. On the opposite side of the archives at the far end of central room is the locker room that members can safely store their equipment.

The final and probably most important element of the Combat Training Hall is the onsite Med Ward. The maglock door is sealed off and can only be opened by an attending Medic. The Medical facilities feature state of the art bacta tanks for recovery and aftercare. A combination of observation and waiting room rests adjacent to the recovery center and features two large monitors that display a live feed of the central room.

The Combat Halls are staffed around the clock, allowing combat students and mentors alike to come and go as they please at odd or regular hours. It also available for members looking to prove their worth to compete in the Antei Combat Center.

[Venue Note: Weapons incorporated into your match are allowed to be used, even if not listed on your Loadout for the match itself. Skill usage and all other ACC rules and guidelines still applies.]

The training hall stank as per usual. The air felt damp with sweat and the sounds of practice combat were all around. It had been a long time since Sykes had stepped into the Combat Center training hall. ”Not much has changed in my time away.” He thought to himself as he looked around the training room. It was a busy day it appeared. The training dummies were fully being used, the training mat was being used to train what looked like a few elite soldiers from Clan Arcona in hand to hand combat and looking up, Sykes could see several shapes of beings in the observation room.

“Sykes! Over here!.” A voice called out from near the weapon racks. The Sith turned towards the voice and looked over the man who had called for him. The man was slightly shorter than himself, obviously middle aged but had a certain glow about him and a spring in his step that would mark him as a younger man. He wore his robe loose, the two lightsabers strapped securely to his thighs and some sweat stains could be seen. “I got here early to warm up.” The man commented with a slight, genuine smile.

Sykes shook his head as he removed his cloak and placed it on a rack. “What are we doing here, Adept Lap’lamiz? We are preparing for all out war and you summoned me here just to spar?” The Battlemaster rolled his shoulders and flexed his hands in the crushgaunts he regularly wore.

The older Sith laughed lightly and pat Sykes on the shoulder. “Don’t be so formal. Just call me Mav. I know too well that war is coming. I need some practice before we get into that and I heard that you were one of the more highly skilled fighters in the Clan. It’s been a long time since I have crossed lightsabers with someone else. What do you say we give some of these younger guys a show?” The man moved onto an unoccupied section of the mat before turning back to Sykes.

“Very well, Adept. I only ask that you not hold back. We all must be in our top form for the coming weeks.” Sykes stepped onto the mat and met the older Siths gaze as he drew his lightsaber. The silver blade sprung to life in front of him and Sykes gave an elegant flourish into a salute. Kamjin drew his red bladed saber and mimicked Sykes’ salute before twisting it down and away from his body in a seemingly peaceful stance. Sykes took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind as he tapped the Force. The Dark Side felt like a well of deep power within him, the anger in the back of Sykes’ mind focusing him on his task. His awareness of the training mat became like a picture within his mind’s eye as he turned sideways and raised his blade with one hand. Stepping closer, he lazily made a probing thrust at the Adept that was quickly batted away. Sykes was quick to twist his wrist around, using the force of the redirect to bring his blade around and directly down towards the crown of the Adepts head. Kamjin however was quick to recognise the maneuver and brought his blade up to block. The smell of ozone in the air began to fill the room from the two locked plasma blades.

“Come on Sykes! You’re supposed to be better than that!” Kamjin laughed as he pushed back against the younger Sith and broke the lock. He spun his own scarlet blade and made a quick one-two strike towards the left and right before thrusting directly at the younger Sith’s heart. Sykes twisted his body away and back from the Elder’s blade, his own blade knocking the thrust away. The anger in the back of his mind was growing and he could feel it begin to course through his body. His wrist rotated the silver blade into a feinted slash at the Adept’s legs but rolled the blade upwards, just passing in front of the older man’s face.

Kamjin stepped back and smiled. “Good. Good. Give into that anger, Sykes. It is our power. It is what separates us from them.” The man made a gesture towards the troopers on the mat who had started to move away to watch the two Sith. “It is what makes us fit to rule.”

Sykes could barely believe his ears. “I thought you wanted to train in fighting. Not give lessons on what makes us superior.”

Kamjin’s eyes narrowed and his smile fell slightly. “I’m merely trying to keep it light hearted. This is why we have been put into this galaxy.” He flourished his lightsaber and pulled it up into a two handed grip, steeling himself. “If that is not appreciated then so be it.” Quickly he stepped forward, raising his blade and striking in a flurry of slashes to Sykes’ head then low towards the man’s legs. Each slash was equally parried and a riposte from the younger man was countered on Kamjin’s scarlet blade. The two men stuck back and forth, neither gaining any ground over the other as they moved back and forth over the mat, the crack of lightsabers crashing into one another filling the room. Soldiers all around the training hall had stopped their practice and all eyes were on the two Sith warriors.

Sykes’ anger continued to rise within him, the focus of his mind fully on his opponent. His body had begun to enter the all too familiar rhythm he was used to in the heat of combat. The Marauder turned his body away from a slash, his blade coming up and over his opponents when his entire torso suddenly screamed with pain. Blue lightning crackled from the Elder’s free hand and had caught Sykes directly in the chest, causing him to fall back. Smoke rose from the singed robe where the blast of electricity had caught him.

Kamjin’s smile returned as he opened up space from the younger Sith. “Stop holding back, Sykes. I wanted a fight not this little game we are playing. After all I had heard, you are better than this.” Lightning crackled between the fingertips of his right hand as he watched his opponent set himself. He could feel Sykes drawing more on the Force, his smile getting bigger as the other man drew his second smaller lightsaber. “Finally! This is what I was waiting on!.”

Sykes, despite his rebuttal of Kamjin earlier attempts to education him, found the Sith Code coming unbidden to his mind. Peace is a lie...and it dawned on him. There were no peaceful matches. Training was not some exercise of the motions but a means of strengthen yourself to conquer your foes.

Sykes smirked and sprang forward spinning through the air, his silver and red blades blurring into a circular pink blade. His shoto saber connected first forcing Kamjin parry to tilt back, followed immediately by his silver blade forcing him off-balance. Dropping down, Sykes continued his rotation sweeping Kamjin's legs and knocking him back.

The air came out of Kamjin with an oof. A cackling laugh came out of him as he recovered and in a twirl of attacks struck at Sykes. Randomly alternating from upper and lower strikes that forced Sykes into a defense stance, holding both blades extended towards his opponent and limiting his ability to strike.

Kamjin was enjoying himself. It had been so long since he had matched blades with a skilled warrior and the Brotherhood would need as many skilled warriors in the time to come. As their blades continued to meet in an ever-increasing fury, he glanced at the Arconans. He was pleased to see that they were not just staring slacked jawed but actually taking note of how the two Sith warriors were engaging each other and commenting on strengths and openings each was presenting.

Coming out of his rotation, he gave a brief wink at the observation room and suddenly he disappeared.

"Wha...Mav?" Sykes was momentarily surprised and quickly crouched and positioned his sabers in front and behind in a defensive stance. For a moment, the room saw a blur of scarlet knock Sykes shoto behind him causing him to stumble forward. Sykes pivoted and slashed his silver blade connecting only with air.

"Your opponents won't always approach you clearly on a battle field," another blurred strike came at Sykes who gave a fumbled parry. "The Jedi...and others...often will seek to confuse you," Sykes felt a sweaty robe sleeve smack him across the cheek. He twirled and howled in rage.

As suddenly, as he disappeared Kamjin reappeared in front of Sykes, tat annoying boyish smirk upon his face. Sykes had begun to lose himself in the Force, the Dark Side energies cursing through his body. His lean muscles tensed and veins bulged. He lunged with all his might at Kamjin, who lazily draw his blade across the mat floor in front him tauntingly. Skye's blades raised high above him and came down for a strike.

Then...he paused. His blades inches from Kamjin's smirking face. Something was wrong this did not feel right. Suddenly he sensed it spinning to parry a blaster bolt that came hurling at him. The Arconans scrambled away from the lone shooter. He stood there, his body in an awkward and unnatural pose. The blaster held outward in a loose grip. He fired again and Sykes blocked it.

"Kamjin...we do not control the novices," an unknown voice came over the intercom. Sykes looked at the observation room with mounting curiosity. The Arconan suddenly fell to his knees with a look of confusion.

As Sykes turned back towards the mat, he saw Kamjin still standing there, his blade pointed towards the mat floor. Taking a tentative step forward, Sykes stuck his blade into Kamjin's gut. It passed through him with ease. Yet it was too easy. Sykes swiped the blade to the side and Kamjin continued to smirk at him.

As the image faded, Sykes saw Kamjin standing off to the side. The sweat poured from his face, clearly exerting himself as someone who, while powerful, was out of practice. His eyes were now the glaring yellow/red of the Sith and he had ignited his second blade. Standing en-grade his scarlet blade now contrasted with the royal blue.

"If you've learned, Sykes, then complete the lesson."

Sykes’ glare at the older man was that of pure hatred. The emotions that had been growing with him exploded as he covered the distance between the two in a blur of motion. His silver blade slashed viciously towards the head of the Adept while he parried a return strike with his shoto. Left, right, up and down their sabers hummed and crashed at one another. With each strike, Sykes’ focus grew more acute, doing everything in his power to keep track of both of his opponent’s blades while his own strikes became tighter in using small circles to parry and thrust.

Kamjin was starting to have a hard time keeping up with the Marauder’s onslaught. He had driven the man into a battle rage that he himself had only seen a few times. Sweat poured from both of their bodies as their blades finally locked and Kamjin was able to focus on the younger Sith’s mind. “That’s it! Now step back!”

Without a second thought Sykes broke the lock and took a step back before he caught himself. “You Sithspawn!” he shouted, moving to strike again when he heard her voice.

“Sykes! Where are you!” Sykes stopped dead in his tracks when he heard it. “Tay?” he whispered and turned to face where he heard her voice from. There on the side of the mat was his long dead wife. A Twi’lek with a lithe build and red skin. Her lightsaber hung from the belts she had wrapped around her thin hips. “Where have you been, Sykes? I need you!” she cried out, arms open to him.

“No.” the Battlemaster muttered and turned back to where his opponent was. The older man had once again disappeared. “Stop these games, Adept!” It was a violation of his inner self coming to fruition. He spun, trying to sense where the older Sith was, both lightsabers at the ready.

“Sykes, please. I need you.” He could hear the pleading in her voice. He closed his eyes to the image of her for he knew she couldn’t be real. He took a deep breath and reversed his lightsabers, focusing on where his opponent may be.

Kamjin watched as the younger man faltered. He needs to learn. He must use that memory of her to fight or we will lose him. He watched as Sykes struck twice into the thin air. Today, he will learn. When his opponent's back had turned fully, Kamjin struck out with a devastating blow with his blade.

Sykes’ body twisted with the sudden danger he felt and brought his shoto up to catch the blade that seemed to appear from behind him. He ducked low, rolling towards the danger and struck out with his right arm. The vibroblade in his gauntlet extended and he could feel it just bite into something hard as he put distance away from the Dark side Adept. Sykes came to his feet and prepared for another onslaught.

Kamjin yelped as the blade slashed across his left calf. He spun around quickly to see the Marauder already preparing for an attack. A light chuckle escaped his lips as he looked down at the cut on his leg. It was a light cut that had begun to drip blood down into his boot but hardly anything to worry himself about. “Well you finally managed to do something, Sykes. But it will take more than that scratch to stop this.” He spun his twin sabers and jumped into the engagement again, striking high and low from one side and sliding to his left but Sykes was keeping his distance. The reversed lightsaber style had caused him to move more defensively and was striking back less. He could feel himself becoming winded and knew he had to finish this duel soon. The Marauder came forward in a blur of motion and struck in a flurry of left-right combos before breaking off again. Something in the back of Kamjin’s mind felt like he was missing something. The style change had thrown him off balance. He blinked and watched as Sykes moved around him, a slow predatory movement but the lights seemed to grow brighter in the room. The blades of his opponents sabers seemed to leave after images in their wakes.

Sykes watched as Kamjin seemed to slow. The man’s pupils had begun to dilate, the timing beginning to become perfect. “Do not assume that you can manipulate me, Fleet Admiral.” Kamjin’s head snapped up with the reference to his old Imperial rank. “Oh yes. I know who you are. You betrayed us. You betrayed your Clan. All it would take is for me to let the Empress know who and what you are to expel you from this Clan.” Sykes leaped forward on his final word, silver blade sweeping low. The Adept brought his own sabers around, blocking the strike and clumsily trying to make a counter attack with his blades.

Kamjin hopped back away from the attacks coming at him. How does this man know who I am? He thought as he tried to track the younger man. The lights had become harsh to his eyes and the lightsabers were leaving trace flows through his vision. What is he doi-POISON! The realization of what had happened dawned on him but he knew it was too late. The substance had already begun to take it’s hold on him. His mind was drifting in and out. He shook his head to try and clear his vision and raised his blades again.

“I can feel it rising within you, Adept. The fear of loss. The fear of betrayal. Look at you now. Losing your greatest strength. Your mind.”

To Kamjin the voice was beginning to come from all directions. It was booming and yet quiet all at the same time. His vision had split and there were now two men in front of him. He raised his blades and struck at both but the man jumped back in another blur of motion. The Seeker screamed in frustration and struck forward again with all of his might but felt nothing connect. He was sweating profusely. “I can’t be. This isn’t possible.”

“But it is.” Sykes struck forward, twisting his blades back into a forward grip and striking with probing thrusts.The Elder moved backward, batting clumsily at Sykes’ blades. “You wanted this, Mav. And now, YOU HAVE IT!” Sykes screamed, added as much bass and power into his voice as he could muster while he struck out with his blades. The Elder hesitated as his eyes went wide trying to keep track of his enemy. The silver blade snuck past the blue blade on Kamjin’s left and snapped against his upper arm. The shoto’s red blade struck against the Elder’s own scarlet blade, allowing Sykes to riposte it high and with a flick of his wrist executed a perfect shiim mark of contact on the Seekers hip. The older man collapsed on the training mat as Sykes broke contact. “This is your only warning from me, Mav. Do not ever try to manipulate my feelings for my former wife. If I was willing to kill her, I will be more than willing to kill you as well.”

Kamjin’s eyes went wide, the pain in his arm and hip searing. The lights had started to dim as the blades from the sabers extinguished. His breath was ragged and labored. Still, a smile crept onto his face as the hallucinations began to send him into the darkest parts of his mind. “It seems you did learn something.” He cackled as the drug induced madness took its hold of him.

To most of the Arconans in the room, what happened next appeared as a flurry of strikes and parries as their blades met. However, to a few of the more talented, they saw the aura of the Dark Side blazing darkly from each of these two combatants. Yet, unbeknownst to these novices, a more trained set of eyes were watching. To them, Sykes Dark Side aura burned like a wild fire let loose upon a forest, spouts of energy extending through him and into his strikes and exploding off into ether of the Force.

In contrast, Kamjin's aura burned like the flames of a great forge. Sharp and direct, the energy moving fluidly through him and into his strikes. If Sykes was, a raging red/black figure of rage Kamjin was a blue/black figure of cool, calculating, darkness.

"More...MORE...let your anger flow through you," Kamjin raged as their blades struck again.

"You...," Sykes grunted, "Talk too much!" Sykes brought both his blades chopping down at Kamjin's head. As Kamjin crossed his blades to parry, in the moment the sparks flew out, Sykes reached out and pulled the blinding dust from the cloak he left hanging and blew it into Kamjin's eyes.

For years after, the Arconans would wake from their sleep in a cold sweat remember the sound Kamjin made in his pained rage. Sykes knew immediately that he had erred as he felt his body go cold. His resolve began to waiver as wave after wave of horrific, depressing images came unbidden to his mind. He was going to lose; Kamjin was going to destroy him. As each successive image of horrific defeat cross his mind, he staggered back, clawing at his eyes trying to rip these images from his mind.

Kamjin's yellow/red eyes, now inflamed and tearing, reeked with malevolence. It was a dirty trick and while he was encouraged that Sykes had finally grasped that, you do not show boat. Despite his own fighting style, he always trained his warriors to fight to win and fight to win from the beginning. With what was to come, he needed to know Sykes would follow him unquestioningly. He needed to ensure that Sykes would follow him without challenge. He would not take for granted that these new clan members would follow him blindly as they had before, even if he was a founder.

Reaching out he found Sykes' shoto saber and slashing both his blades down upon it broke his grip and sent it skittering to the far end of the chamber. Sykes tried to riposte but his blade swiped through empty air. It was time to finish this. Kamjin knew that Sykes, if he was able to recover from the Force visions he was inflicting upon him, would over time out maneuver him in physical combat.

Extinguishing his blades, he clipped them back to his robes. "I know it doesn't feel like it...but you've passed this test," Kamjin coughed as the tears from the dust continues to stream down his face. Raising his hand, lazily, Force lightning shot briefly out and enveloped Sykes forcing him off the mat. As Sykes fought to remain conscious, the visions faded and he saw a smiling Kamjin standing over him extending his hand.

He shook violently from the electricity still causing his muscles to spasm as he accepted the extended hand. "You know, you almost had me a couple times there Sykes," Kamjin's voice once again returning to his aloof casual tone. As Sykes noticed the tears continuing to stream from his face he retorted with a quiver, "Looks like more than almost." They looked at each on for a moment and then both broke out in a roaring laughter. A bond had been forged between them that would not be easily broken.

"Come with me," Kamjin said throwing his arm around Sykes both in a term of friendship and support, "We have some people to talk to." As he guided Sykes through the Med Ward, his head was still swimming with the terrible visions he saw and the puzzlement as to whom they could possibly meet with.

As they entered the Observation room, he noticed several individuals in night black robes with their faces obscured by their drawn hoods. He thought he saw ten individuals but his head was still fuzzy.

"Will he do, Mav?" said one of the taller individuals in the center of the group.

"Oh yes, he'll do quite nicely," Kamjin was positively beaming, "I knew anyone from my Clan would be up to the task."

"Remember, Kamjin, it's not your Clan anymore," retorted a thick, darkly rhythmic voice and Sykes thought he caught a hint of full red wine lips.

"Now, now, I know I've been away for a while but it'll always be my Clan," and Sykes noted while Kamjin said it in his all too familiar light manner, there was an iciness under current it as well. "Remember, I was here when you first began your rise to prominence Ciara."

Ciara...was this the Dark Council? A smaller astromech, maybe a C1-series, came rolling forward and extended a small data chip.

"Thank you, 'Mav'," Kamjin quipped as he grabbed the chip, "Come on, Sykes. Let's get you fixed up and I'll tell you what this was all about."