Located on Sepros, the ancient Temples of Orian have served as the home for Clan Naga Sadow since the Exodus. In particular, the Temple of Sorrow was selected to become the base of operations for all of Clan Naga Sadow. The Temple has been rebuilt upon a once withered base, creating a hybrid of ancient stone and current era technology.

Within the shroud of Sepros' jungles, the spire of the Temple stands tall and menacing. It is constructed at the heart of a large clearing within the trees, with an impressive courtyard flanking it. The courtyard itself is a testament to the ancient origins of the Temple, littered with remains of the previous temple. Vines grow like slithering snakes throughout the crumbling architecture as if trying to strangle what stone remains and drag it into the dirt once more. Moss coats the stones in defiance to the elements that have stripped the stone bare throughout the courtyard. A grand staircase leads from the grassy ground to the main entrance, with secondary platforms on either side that house landing platforms. Several transport shuttles are settled upon the platforms in varying states of readiness as droids see to their maintenance.

Inside the Temple lies the main hall. The walls are shaped from a marble-like structure with elegant, flowing curves as if molded in clay. Columns line the walls leading away from the entrance towards the central chambers, supporting a balcony that stretches along the walls of the hall as a second level. Multiple corridors are seen between the columns, leading towards the Temple proper. Within these pathways reside the quarters many call home, in addition to various training rooms and small libraries.

This is the Temple of Sorrow, the heart of Clan Naga Sadow.

Cimozjen looked about the courtyard, drawing a breath. The air was wet, just as he had dreamed. All was dreadfully familiar, despite the fact he had little cause to visit the location before. Despite all his time in the Orian system, he had spent little time walking the halls of the Clan's strongholds. He had spent even less time surveying its historic sites.

Yet everything here felt terribly familiar. He had seen the jungles, he had seen the mixture of old and new, he had felt the pulse of life around him. He had never been here, but it felt as familiar as his own home. He shook his head, his fingers itching to pull out a cigarette. He always got nervous before pursuing a lead, and his dreams were no different. He looked out over the courtyard and the jungles beyond, for he was not looking forward to this. He had spent a lot of time in planets across the galaxy, but he had never managed to shake off the cruel hands of fate and the Force. Drawing a slow breath, he cast the impulse to delay further aside. He removed the hand from his pocket, leaving it to rest on the lightsaber at his side.

The droid at his side beeped, pulling the Force Disciple from his thoughts. He ran a hand through his dark hair, sighing deeply. "I am not detecting anything anomalous either, Hex." He grimaced at the R3-series droid, trying to account for all the variables in this situation. The droid was deaf to the whispers of the Force, which limited his usefulness. The human pointed to the ground. "I need you to stay here. If I don't return within the hour, I want you to contact Misses Versea and then go back to the shuttle to wait. No heroics from you, this time."

The droid blew an electronic buzz of annoyance before Hex started to roll off a few feet from the base of the stairs. He hadn't always been particularly keen on droids, but Cimozjen had to admit that Hex was the right mix of useful and independent. There was about a 50-50 chance the droid was still try to pull off some heroics, but the Sorcerer didn't need any further blood on his hands, electronic or otherwise. Cimozjen Kurios looked up at the top of the stairs, remembering the presence that awaited him. He wasn't sure if It was something dark, but he did know that whatever awaited him inside was something dangerous. His hands shaking, the human started up the steps, heading into the depths of the Temple of Sorrow.

As he threw the doors open, he was met with the unmistakable smell of antiquity. The columns interrupted the light from the outside, casting long shadows across the polished marble floors. A few simple metal folding chairs had been assembled against either wall, in contrast to tradition. They were there for the convenience of those on Clan business left to wait. His silvery eyes took the details in, making note of any place where an attack might come from. As his sight passed from the right side of the entrance hall towards the left side, he caught sight of a cloaked figure.

The hood of the cloak was up, offering little to identify this intruder. He saw the figure turn their head, revealing clearly feminine features. She locked eyes briefly, her face being twisted up in concentration. The two seemed frozen in time for several moments.The hood came down, revealing the woman's pale complexion. She was an attractive lass, he had to admit, as he studied the quiet strength behind her eyes. He even felt his heart skip a beat as she gave him an uncertain smile. Still, he knew what he had to do.

"You intrude upon the dominion of Clan Naga Sadow." The statement was flat, more a simple statement of fact than an accusation. He cleared his throat as he raised his voice. "Declare your intentions here."

The woman tilted her head, her smile not breaking. "I assure you, I have the proper permissions." There was a hint of amusement in her tone. "Are you lost? Do you not have somewhere else to be?" She shook her head.

The man narrowed his eyes, motioning to the front of his armor. "I am an Inquisitor of the Brotherhood, and an agent of Clan Naga Sadow." Unclipping his lightsaber from his side and dropping into a dueling stance, the Sorcerer thumbed the activator switch. The energy blade ignited with a snap-hiss, casting his face in green light. "The Force lead me here. I seek to excise a cancer within our midst. I am a weapon of divine justice."

Kiana's stance shifted as these words hung in the air. Cimozjen was already moving to close the distance between them. Throwing the cloak from her shoulders, the woman had her weapon pivoting to rest in a dueling stance similar to Cimzojen's. As the Sorcerer entered striking distance, her lightsaber was already activated. The Jedi stabbed her weapon forward, causing the Force Disciple to bat the attack aside. As Cimozjen retreated, Kiana struck out again watching carefully. Each stroke was a probe, a test, which served to push her opponent back a step. Kurios watched the woman, twisting a hand in like kind to the very strokes that she had just delivered.

For several tense moments, the two exchanged a series tight stabs and shallow jabs, engaged in as much a game of careful consideration as combat. Frustration mounted within Cimozjen. He reached out, both physically and within the Force, closing a hand around the air. Pulling it sideways, he gave a grunt of exertion. Kiana moved, at the last moment sidestepping the folding chair that passed through the air where she had been. She twisted her lightsaber to cut the chair in half. This action was almost an impulse, which allowed Cimozjen to lunge forward and scorch the right shoulder of her cloak. Kiana patted the burnt patch, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

"Okay, I guess we can call that 0-1." The woman twirled the tip of her lightsaber as she watched for Cimozjen's next strike.

With an elegant manner, Kiana shrugged off her cloak, holding one arm out to her side and letting the garment fall. It would only be a hindrance at this point. Besides, she had already been detected. The time for secrecy had passed.

"You are not an initiate," her opponent said, gesturing at Kiana's robes.

Kiana's only answer was a smile. She patted her side briefly, noting that the datapad she had stashed in her pocket was still there. She only needed to take it and disengage. She didn't want to fight a protracted duel here, in the heart of Naga Sadow's power.

She had just about got away when this man showed up. An inquisitor. she thought. He was exactly the last type of individual she had wanted to run into in this place.

I'm not letting him stop me, she told herself, holding her chin high, and presenting Cimojzen with a standard Makashi salute. "You are no slouch," she said calmly. ``and you seem to be an intelligent man." She dropped her lightsaber to a neutral position, neither offensive or defensive as she circled, trying to keep her opponent from attacking while she spoke to him.

"But I am not the so-called cancer, you speak of, Inquisitor."

"My senses say otherwise. The Force led me here, to this place, to you. This is the one chamber that feels different than all the others; wrong, like a warm street on a cold Nar Shadaa night. I can't let you leave. I have my orders."

Kiana sighed. So much for that. "Very well," she said. She struck with precision and speed, lightsaber flashing toward the wrist of Cimozjen's sword arm. The man reacted in an instant. His lightsaber came up to push Kiana's strike away. In one fluid motion he spun and counterattacked before she could try anything else. Instinctively, Kiana's training took over. Muscle memory put her in the defensive stance of Soresu, creating a narrow, defensive box around her body. The sounds of their combat echoed off the walls as they fought. They circled the chamber; Cimozjen attacking, probing for an opening. His lightning-fast strikes met Kiana's stalwart defense time after time, giving her no opportunity to counterattack, but not finding any fruit for his efforts.

She knew his moves, but it had been so long since she had found herself facing an equal opponent that she was caught off guard by his ferocity. Finally, Kiana summoned the Force and leaped backward, widening the gap between them, holding up one hand, palm out.

She was not sure whether her opponent expected an attack, or actually listened, but he stopped all the same. The room fell quiet, so much that she could hear her own heartbeat and the flickering of one of the Hall's many glowbulbs.

This man still stood between her and the exit. It was time to try a different angle.

"It's true," she said, choosing her words carefully. "I do not belong here, I'm not a Sith, or a Dark Jedi. I serve a greater purpose."

"There is no greater purpose than justice."

"That is why I am here," she said simply. "Not for the kind that you would find from Naga Sadow. You will see, if you let me go. I promise this will not be the last time we meet."

"To let you go would be to disobey orders; to disobey orders would not be justice. Stand down, and I won't have to hurt you," Cimozjen answered.

"Hurt me?," Kiana commented, speaking quietly, but clear. "Why do you have to do this? Because some Sith told you to? So they can continue to maintain their barbaric stranglehold on this system? So they can continue to make a mockery of the Force with their blasphemous rituals? This is what you serve, isn't it? Have you ever considered that there may be other ways, or do you always do what you are told, without thought?" she finished slowly, pressing her words toward Cimozjen with the Force.

The room fell silent again. She waited for a response, hoping that her opponent would budge. Otherwise, she would need to get creative to get out of here. Either way, she was overstaying her welcome. Any moment a dozen soldiers might show up or worse; another Force User loyal to Sadow.