Utterly unsuited for those suffering from incurable vertigo or debilitating envy, the richly decorated mansion spans between two rock needles low enough to almost swim in Cato Neimoidia's ground-hugging clouds in viewing distance of Tarko-se. Long and slim, the open top held in burgundy and plated with electrum is dotted with gazebos, treasuries, a menagerie, and garages for pleasure craft centered around the main residence.

Protected from winds and weather by a subtle atmospheric shield, the underside is mirrored to camouflage itself in the colors of the clouds. Antennas, vanes and ducts could provide audacious climbers with handholds and platforms should they desire to challenge their luck and Lady Gravity, while the clouds reaching upwards could provide concealment for those who bring their own means of flight. Access to the Bridge Mansion can only be obtained either by flying transportation, or by climbing through the mysterious mountain ranges of Cato Neimoidia's cloud-covered surface. Whoever makes their way here however will enjoy the luxury of total isolation to go about their business.

The mansion lies deserted except for droids keeping the grounds and tending the animals while the owner is distracted on business, but a bit of breaking and entering has never bothered an upstanding crook, did it?

Revs stared out the window and took in the surrounding landscape. Miraluka couldn't see the details but his unique Force Vision allowed him to make out the shapes and blending of the different lifeforces filling the mountains. He stood there a few moments longer just relaxing and taking it all in.

The assassin took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Welp. Better get moving.” He talked to himself as he turned to start rummaging through the owner of the mansion's personal belongings. He had managed to find several expensive sets of jewelry, a rather expensive watch, he had even pocketed a bottle of cologne.

As he shifted through drawers, Revs paused, he could have sworn he had heard a sound of fabric moving. Not sensing anything in the room around him the Arconan shrugged his shoulders and continued about his rummaging. He moved to the closet and opened the doors. Expensive designer clothes hung wrinkle free in neat matching sets.

“Guys gotta be a major douche.” He mumbled as he pushed the clothes to the side looking for a safe or lock box. Revs stood up suddenly and spun around. He hadn't heard anything this time but could feel someone's presence in the house with him. Unclipping his lightsaber from his belt he slowly started to walk through the house, looking for whomever it was that he had sensed.

As Revs entered the living room he could hear movement coming from behind the couch. He crept forward ready to strike, but as he rounded the sectional all he saw was a small round droid vacuuming the rug.

“Hmph. A trained assassin getting jumpy over a glorified duster.” Revs chuckled to himself as he looked at the little droid. Just as he was thinking to himself how he could need one of these droids for himself a tinge in the Force sent a shiver down his spine alerting him to danger. He ducked down just as a dagger sliced through the air right where his neck would have been.

Revs dove forward over the back of the couch and rolled up to his feet, spinning to face his assailant. Before him stood a Quarren who looked as if he never missed a day in the gym and his mother had put creatine in with his formula.

“Hey man. Have uh…have we ever met?” The Miraluka slowly stepped to the side of the couch. “Do I owe you money? Look, I got this cool watch, should be worth more than what you are looking for.” He reached in his pocket to pull out the watch he had just stolen when the Quarren lunged at him with dagger again. Revs jumped to back just in time to avoid getting cut. Quicky grabbing his would be killers wrist, the Arconan managed to twist his wrist and throw the Quarren to the ground.

Revs jumped on top of him attempting to get the upper hand but his opponent managed to slip out of every hold Revs attempted. The two ended up rolling around on the floor attempting to gain advantage over the other. “Who the frak are you!” Revs grunted as he kicked the Quarren away from him, leaving the two sprawled out on the floor.

Qor rose like a shadow catching fire.

Silent. Inevitable.

The Quarren’s silhouette twisted against the electrum shine of the mansion’s lights, his boots skidding slightly on the polished tile. Where Revs’ form was all practiced balance and reactive flow, Qor moved like a surgeon with a vendetta - tight, controlled, deliberate.

Ink dripped from one palm. It hissed as it hit the floor, forming a growing symbol behind him - Sith alchemy, perhaps, or something older. His other hand gripped the curved dagger once more, glinting with crimson etchings.

"That watch doesn’t cover the debt, Disciple."

His voice was hoarse, scraped raw by fury or old injury. Maybe both.

Revs grinned despite the sting in his ribs, lightsaber igniting with a signature snap-hiss.

“Cool. Want the cologne too?” A beat. “Smells like bad decisions and credit fraud.”

Qor struck without humor.

He lunged in close - too close - collapsing the distance with a burst of fervor, dagger coming in low, but not to kill. The blade skimmed the edge of Revs' outer thigh. Not deep, but enough to sap his step. A surgeon's cut.

Revs’ lightsaber came down in response, but Qor vanished - ducking into an instinctive shimmer, his presence evaporating from the light like a snuffed ember.

Gone.

The room fell still, save for the ever-cheerful hum of the droid now politely vacuuming under a broken vase.

Revs spun, senses flaring. His Miralukan sight, usually so reliable, flickered - whatever darkness Qor had cloaked himself, and bent the Force around him like gravity. Too close to Sith, too far from Jedi - that imbalance made him hard to read.

A whisper of pressure. Behind.

Revs ducked instinctively, just as Qor reappeared mid-leap, descending from the ceiling with a brutal axe-kick aimed at the back of Revs’ head. The Miraluka deflected with an upward guard, the impact jarring through both arms. He staggered back into a table, smashing through a tasteful, overpriced sculpture of something winged and smug-looking.

“Okay! So we’re past negotiations.” Revs winced. “Cool. Just wanted to be sure.”

Qor pressed forward, expression unreadable. Not angry. Not smug. Just focused - a predator in the final moments of the hunt.

But Revs was smiling now - bloodied, breath quick, but not broken. His lightsaber twirled back into guard position, feet planted.

“You’re good. Real good. Shame you’re so ugly.”

Qor tilted his head.

“And yet I don’t wear a blindfold to spare the galaxy.”

He stepped in again.

Combat wasn’t over.

It was just beginning.

Revs stepped in and started on the offensive, his lightsaber swinging wildly as he tested his opponents defense. “Hey now! Trying to kill me is one thing but making fun of disabilities is going too far!” As his lightsaber clashed with the dagger, Revs spun and slammed the hilt into Qor’s face just above his eye.

The Miraluka hopped back on one leg, the spot on his thigh where he had been cut was starting to burn and itch. He could only guess that the blade was coated in some type of poison. The thought of the possibility of being taken out by such a superficial wound.

Revs observed his opponent, the Quarren was breathing heavier than Revs was. Blood trickled down Qor’s face where the blow from the saber hilt had split his eyebrow open. He was obviously skilled with that dagger, but Revs was better. Revs knew he was faster and more skilled than the muscled brute, he just had to finish this fight before the poison could take full effect.

The Miraluka reached behind him and grabbed a chunk of the statue he had just broken, and threw it at the Quarren's head. Qor dodged to the side and Revs used the opportunity to strike. Using the Force to augment his speed and strength, Revs lunged forward bringing his lightsaber down in a powerful swing.

Qor managed to block the blow but stumbled back. Revs didn't let up. With his feet planted firmly he delivered blow after blow slamming into the Quarren's defense. With a quick flick of his wrist Revs locked both of their blades weapons together, putting them in a stalemate.

“Remember when I said you were good? Well I lied.” Revs reached down with his off hand and pulled his second lightsaber from his belt. The familiar snap hiss of the blade sounded as the blade burned through Qor’s midsection, just above the hip. He pushed off with his main hand and stumbled back. The burning around the wound on his leg was getting worse.

“Should have taken the watch, big guy. Doubt that debt is worth your life.”

The pain meant nothing.

Blood streamed down Qor’s brow, blurring half his vision, but he didn’t blink. The burning gash in his side? Just data. Noise. Background static easily silenced by the absolute power of the Dark Side. The blade had cut deep - but not deep enough. Not through muscle. Not through discipline.

The moment Revs stepped back, gloating - Qor vanished.

No sound. No flash. Just absence.

Where the Quarren had stood was now only blood and vapor, and a faint shimmer, distorting the air like heat haze.

Revs tensed. He backed away, sweeping the room with his saber raised. But Miralukan sight depended on presence. Emotion. Intention. Qor had none. He wasn’t there - not as far as Revs could tell. He had emptied himself, become a ghost in a mansion of glass and gold.

The vacuum droid trundled cheerfully by, dragging a smear of Qor’s blood like a slug trail.

Revs turned - too slow.

The Force screamed a moment too late as Qor dropped from above, from the rafters, the ceiling beam, the damned chandeliers - didn’t matter. He dropped with dagger drawn, reversed in a grip honed for murder.

The first strike buried deep into Revs’ left shoulder - not lethal, but surgically placed to sever control of the arm.

The second came as Revs screamed and twisted - not in anger, but surprise. He never even got the second lightsaber up.

Qor swept low, blade foward, and slid the dagger clean across the Miraluka’s gut, drawing a horizontal line just under the ribs. Precise. Controlled.

He stepped back and let gravity finish the work.

Revs collapsed to his knees, both sabers clattering uselessly to the floor. His hands clutched at the wound - not deep enough to kill instantly, but mortal all the same. He tried to speak, a joke maybe. Something clever. Something defiant.

Qor crouched before him.

"You talk too much."

He leaned forward, crushing a vial against the Miraluka’s sternum. Slime slithered from between his fingers, dark as pine, seeping into the wound. The Force carried it - a final curse. It would numb the pain. Slow the heart. Cloud the thoughts.

A mercy.

"This debt was never about credits. It was about silence."

Revs' breath hitched once. Then again. Then stilled.

Qor rose.

The mansion returned to quiet. Only the soft whirring of the vacuum droid remained, bumping gently into a toppled lightsaber.

He looked down at the shattered statue, then at the blood trail leading to the body.

A sigh.

“What a waste of cologne.”

And with that, Qor vanished into shadow once more.