You stand at the very top of the Shadow Academy—the great pyramid of Lyspair—in the offices of the Headmaster. A fire crackles merrily in the chamber, background noise for the battle yet to come. Two comfortable couches sit in the center of the long, ovoid room. Your eyes land on the desk opposite the fireplace, filled with datapads and forms. The yellowish glows of the flames illuminate the shelves of artifacts and holo-books surrounding the upper tier of the room. This was a private study, the place where the Headmaster of the Shadow Academy met his subordinates to discuss important matters.

Your eyes track beyond the desk, to an unassuming door which will lead directly to the Headmaster's living quarters. A side door to your immediate right leads to the more public office. The opposite door, standing on the left, leads to a private sparring room. You hear the soft rush of metal and cloth as your opponent pulls their weapon. Despite the sanctity of the Headmaster's chambers, the fight is inevitable. It was meant to be. As your hand drops down to your own weapon, you shift into a combat stance and prepare to draw.

The cold presence of his saber was a reassuring sensation against his palm, unlike the hostile aura emanating from the other intruder into the Headmaster's study at his back. A long sigh flowed gently through Atra's semi-parted lips as he slid his other hand across the datapad he had been addressing and toggled the screen off. The Sadowan opened his senses, drinking in the presence he felt and matching it to his memory, if he could. There it was... the presence was familiar, albeit a distant familiarity.

"Andrelious," Atra muttered, "such hostility I feel."

How long ago had it been since the two had last met face to face? To Atra's counting only one such meeting had occurred, and the circumstances of the Horizons plague tinged that particular scenario with such aggression. Still, it was far from relevant to the immediate present, but past experiences were a resource of their own at times.

"You shouldn't be here," the Sith Warlord growled in response.

A sly smirk tugged at the corners of Atra's lips, hidden as his back remained towards the other man. He turned his head slightly, just enough to affix Andrelious with his corrupted eye's gaze. "Yes, yes... but with Antei being glassed and such, me and my ilk roam these halls from time to time."

Andrelious' eyes narrowed ever so slightly before speaking, "I somehow doubt the Headmaster has need of a Judge ransacking his study after hours—without oversight."

"That's fair," Atra admitted as he turned to face the other man, "but where does that leave you, hm?"

The Warlord's grip tightened on his E-11 Blaster, the now apparent source of the sound that had alerted Atra to his loss of solitude. The Quaestor of Shar Dakhan never moved his hand from the hilt of his weapon, but tried to make himself look at least a little less threatening. Atra tried to study the man's face, looking for any betrayal of purpose that could be read within his aging features. The glow of the firelight was distracting to Atra's Umbaran eyes, yet the pallor it cast over the room was still welcome. Andrelious' short, portly frame stood out, clearly defined by the flickering light, even as the wrinkles around his eyes tightened—the man no doubt contemplating the benefits to simply squeezing the trigger then and there.

"That's my business, Sadowan scum," came the Inquisitor's gruff response.

"Naturally, but is it really? I can't think of a reason Arcona would—" Atra paused for a moment, tilting his head in thought, "but it isn't Arcona anymore, no it's Taldryan now... Not a very loyal one are you?"

"That's enough of your blustering, what are you doing here," Andrelious demanded yet again, though his words were suddenly accompanied by the unmistakeable punch of power. Atra could feel the Force plying at his thoughts, seeking to coerce him into compliance. It took all of the Umbaran's concentration not to give in, a testament to the former Arconan's skill. For added measure, Atra bit down on his own lip and let the pain wash over his thoughts, bringing much needed clarity.

Andrelious let out a growl of frustration, accepting the obvious fact that the sheer stubborn resolve of the Sadowan was going to make things ever more difficult. As such, there was a clear and obvious solution, and it played into the fact that the Inquisitor wasn't in the mood for witnesses regardless; it was time to embrace more aggressive negotiations. The muscles in his right hand pulled tight as he squeezed against the trigger in a quick series of tugs, releasing three incredibly precise shots of fierce plasma.

Atra was already in motion, his cerulean blade hissing to life as he gripped Vestigium of Duriel in his right hand. He thrust out his left palm in answer to the screeching bolts, opening himself to the Force and willing it into his palm. Despite all his speed and precognitive reaction time, Atra was not faster than the point-blank assault, not entirely. The swirling concentration of Force energy in his palm served to deflect the first of the shots, sending the deadly plasma into the ceiling and leaving a smoking, charred hole in its wake. The Battlemaster managed to bring his blade to bear in time for the second shot. Matching contained plasma against plasma, the iconic weapon of the Jedi settled into the blaster bolt's path and sent it harmlessly into the fireplace, just as Atra finished a quick sidestep that allowed for the final shot to render the datapad he had just been viewing entirely useless in an explosion of sparks.

Another annoyed growl slipped through Andrelious' tightly ground teeth, the older man sliding the weapon back into his holster before drawing his saber and adding its sanguine hue to the glow of his opponent's weapon. The Inquisitor took a confident stride forward, knowing his physical limits but, furthermore, fully aware of their surroundings. In such tight quarters, athletics became less a measure of leaps and bounds, and became more focused on stamina. The short flicks and strikes of his chosen form of combat, Dun Moch, would greatly benefit in such an environment. However, the ex-Imperial couldn't say for certain the style currently employed by Atra, so he couldn't allow confidence to cloud his vision.

"A failed Proconsul has no business judging me," Andrelious taunted as his power coalesced into sparks at the fingertips of his free hand. Two steps later the Inquisitor thrust forward his hand, releasing a sudden jolt of pure energy towards the Sadowan. The sudden shock flashed brightly in the room, Atra's eyes squinting in sensitivity as he caught the attack with his saber's blade. The electricity sparked harmlessly across its surface area, but was little more than a flashy distraction. Andrelious followed up the Force attack with his saber, a sudden step forward accompanied by a thrust as the crimson blade homed in on Atra's core. The Umbaran's blade was out of position, unable to effectively parry the tricky strike, so he didn't bother trying. He deactivated his saber and placed his other hand on the surface of the table, vaulting over it with a lateral spin that caused him to land just out of sight. Andrelious was fully committed to his strike however, and the blade slid deeply into the density of the desk, an orange glow forming around the sudden heat of the weapon.

"Woah," Atra's voice exclaimed from the other side of the desk, his eyes wide as the weapon's tip slide just over top of where he had found himself laying. "You seem angry," the man continued as the blade slid back out of the desk as Andrelious prepared for another attack. Atra rose to a crouch, his mismatched eyes gazing over the desk towards his opponent. "I think they have pills now for that..."

“I’m not afraid of my own emotions, Sadowan.” Andrelious hissed, leaping onto the desk. Atra reactivated his lightsaber, its blade snapping into life just in time to nullify the Taldryanite’s latest swing.

Mimosa-Inahj was becoming a little frustrated at just how well the Umbaran fought. Every ounce of strength, every modicum of agility, were focused on battling the Warlord, keeping Andrelious from making any kind of breakthrough.

Stepping back to avoid an attempt from the Sadowan to force a saber lock, Andrelious lunged forward, trying a counter attack. With an almost beastly growl, Atra blocked the attack, before unleashing a flurry of incredibly fast, powerful slashes. The older Sith found himself firmly on the defensive, the Force helping him to steer his lightsaber into a blocking position again and again. Still the Battlemaster pushed on, using his stronger, fitter body to dictate the flow of the battle.

Crashing his blade powerfully into that of his opponent, the Sadowan smirked momentarily. He followed up with another hugely powerful slash on the far side, using his extra foot of height to force Andrelious to reach far above his head. As the Warlord blocked that attack, Atra lashed out with the Force, concentrating its power into a wave of energy that hurled the ex-Imperial into the air and towards the door that led towards the former living quarters. Andrelious crashed hard into the durasteel door, which gave way against the sheer weight of the Taldryanite.

“Perhaps you should cut down on the food,” Atra quipped, moving to re-close the gap between the two of them. The Warlord stepped back, into the large bedroom, and crouched behind the bed, not daring to deactivate his lightsaber or switch to his to blaster; his opponent was simply too fast.

“Droid active. Cleaning program Aurek,” a mechanised voice stated. Mimosa-Inahj turned to see a janitor droid begin to clean the room, apparently activated by the Human’s entry. It ignored Andrelious, and swept its optical sensors throughout the room, looking in vain for anything to clean.

Atra entered the living quarters, immediately destroying the oblivious automaton with a quick sweep of his lightsaber.

“What were you hoping would happen? I’d be beaten to death with its duster?” the Sadowan questioned. Andrelious ignored the Battlemaster’s comment as he approached, moving up from his crouched position to try and steal the initiative with a series of attacks that had looked far better in his mind’s eye than they did in actual execution. Atra blocked each and every move the Warlord made, his agility serving him well often even before the Force could tell him where to position himself, and when.

Moving forward as he dodged an overly aggressive slash from the Taldryanite, Atra feinted to the left, and, as his rival Sith moved to block him to that side, balled his right hand into a fist and punched Andrelious squarely in the jaw. The force of the blow knocked the Warlord backwards, the back of his head connecting with the durasteel bed side table with a dull thud. Stunned momentarily, Andrelious shook his head to regain his bearings in time to see the Sadowan charging at him, with an alarmingly animalistic look in his eyes. With little time to act on much other than sheer gut instinct, the older Sith yelled out to the Force, demanding it help him.

Atra was stopped in his tracks as the bed side table’s storage drawer flew rapidly towards him. He raised his lightsaber blade, easily cutting the flying object in half, but the distraction had done its job and allowed Andrelious to escape the bedroom and head back into the main room. Following, the Battlemaster kept a tight hold on his lightsaber, ready to deflect any blaster bolts from the retreating Taldryanite. As he entered the room, however, he saw that Andrelious was still holding onto his lightsaber, apparently ready to pick up from where they had left off. Atra paced towards his opponent with a little less gusto than he had moments before, wary of what the Warlord could do. Andrelious stood his ground, himself incredibly cautious of the powerful man he was facing.

“The final chapter then, Ventus?” Andrelious hissed.

Atra let out a long breath before wiping the beads of sweat from his brow, giving the room another cursory glance. The pacing of their encounter thus far had been rather impressive, and more so was the fact that his portly opponent seemed to be no more winded than Atra was. He could respect that, though neither could keep up such hostilities for much longer. However, during their exchange one thing had become undeniably apparent; blow for blow, the Sadowan had the advantage.

"Must we, though?" Atra questioned as he did the one thing his opponent more than likely least expected — deactivating his lightsaber.

The weapon in his grasp gave off something akin to a wail as the energy blade dissipated, as if alive and filled with disappointment. Andrelious' weapon, however, did not waver in the slightest, even as sheer incredulity filled the ex-Imperial's expression. "Are you mocking me, Ventus?" came the Taldryanite's questioning reply.

"Hardly," the Battlemaster muttered as he sauntered over to the Headmaster's desk, which had most assuredly seen better days by then, "you're smart enough to reach the same conclusions." Atra leaned against the desk lazily, picking up the dismal remains of a few datapads and glancing at them for a moment. He gave a quick shrug of regret before tossing them to the side, demonstrating a level of indifference towards his would-be killer that turned Andrelious' face a deeper shade of red with each passing breath.

Oh how furious he must have been feeling... good.

"Listen, you tried Andrelious, and managed to surprise me. But you have been judged," Atra stated flatly, "and you're already dead." His arms folded slowly across the expanse of his chest, the fabric of his robes shifting against the sudden friction. "Maybe you should stick to your ships, seems more your speed," he continued as his right hand's pale fingers toyed with the dragon emblem that adorned his necklace, and the memories of the lost daughter it contained. There was no honour or accomplishments to be had in cutting Andrelious down, he had seen as much thus far. They were both warriors, of that there was no question, but they belonged on very different battlefields. Atra was ever so clearly a duelist, completely honed for his craft like a blade upon an anvil, whilst Mimosa-Inahj belonged among the stars. If his family were to lose him, should it not be upon the battlefield he was best suited for?

A sudden cry of anger, and the not so subtle tugging of the Force, brought Atra's focus back to the task at hand just in time to see the windmilling crimson glow soaring towards him. The Sadowan growled in frustration, allowing his knees to buckle just enough as he fell into a crouch, the deadly saber singing the tips of his hair as the long strands lagged behind his actions and the weapon passed just overhead. The accompanying acrid aroma played havoc on the Umbaran's sense of smell, his nostrils flaring as he pumped air in and out quickly in an attempt to rid himself of the fumes. Then he had an altogether different distraction, fire coursing through his nerves and filling his mind with raw pain. His body convulsed around the source of the offending sensation, his talon-tipped hand reaching towards his right shoulder. A wide scorch mark singed at flesh that had come to more resemble a burnt nerf steak as it smoked in response to the blaster bolt he had received. Andrelious' self satisfied chuckle echoed within the chamber, his E-11 blaster still firmly aimed at Atra's large mass.

"You missed," the Sadowan muttered with a hint of legitimate disappointment in his voice.

"What was it you said? Ah yes, you're smart enough to reach the same conclusions," Andrelious' sneer was almost palpable.

Atra grunted in response, pressing his head back against the desk with a soft thud. "You can't just kill someone can you? Gotta have your fun, eh?"

"And what fun we could have," the ex-Arconan commented as he tugged on the Force, as if pulling on a leash, and caught his saber as it came flying back to him. "I wonder how long you can hold your breath," he mused.

Atra winced once more, his right eye closing tight as he focused the tendrils of his power through his own flesh. Healing was most certainly not the Umbaran's strong point; inflicting wounds was kind of his thing, after all. Still, the Force worked like a bull in a china shop as it sought to heal some of the damage in his shoulder. He didn't need full functionality, not really, just enough was all — enough to demonstrate how regrettable his previous sentimentality had been. Andrelious was slowly walking towards Ventus, his crimson blade dancing back and forth as the man seemed to be muttering under his breath, more than likely devising some form of showmanship that would be a pleasing method of execution for him.

Why was it that so many assumed a battle was done just because their opponent wasn't actively trying to dismember them? Where was the practicality in that? The battle could never be called a done deal until one of them was dead and gone, or so lost in their subconscious that they might as well be.

"So, that's how it's gonna be, huh" Atra murmured just as Andrelious came to a stop mere feet away.

"Oh, but you did try Ventus, surprisingly so," Mimosa-Inahj continued, his lips pulled back with a cruel smile.

The Sadowan merely nodded in response, closing his eyes as if in resignation of what was to come. But how could he resign himself to such a shameful fate, when his opponent had offered up such a willing punching bag? Atra wasn't as showy as others, when it came to the manipulations of the Force. No, he was more restrained than that, preferring to amplify that which could be applied at more point-blank range.

And just who had so willingly sauntered into such close proximity?

Atra's eyes snapped open with a growl of fury, his cybernetic arm gripping the base of Andrelious' saber wielding hand while pushing it up and away. He bit through the searing pain of his shoulder, crimson droplets staining his bared teeth, as the burnt flesh shifted in response to the pulling muscles beneath its surface that guided his arm towards his target. The Force exploded in a concentrated concussion of energy, the short range allowing the Battlemaster to amplify the kinetic resonance as opposed to distance. Andrelious' body convulsed in response, blood spilling out from his gaping jaw while the man staggered back, though Atra's hold kept him from going too far. Burning exhaustion sought to claim him, but Atra powered through while pulling the ex-Imperial close and delivering a vicious headbutt that made even his own ears ring as the contact reverberated through his skull. Both men were dazed from the exchange, but Atra had been expecting it and was, thankfully, able to recover faster. He squeezed hard with his left hand, using a combination of pain and strength to twist Andrelious' arm back against the man's will. The crimson blade curved down from where it had been previously pointed towards the damaged ceiling, coming parallel to its owner before a sudden push plunged the blade cleanly through his chest.

The heat of the weapon roared to life as it penetrated him but didn't allow the wound to cauterize as the plasma remained planted in his flesh, hilt deep. Atra let out yet another long, heavy breath as he felt the extent of his own weariness in full, taking a moment to stare into Andrelious' eyes as the light found there began to fade. "May you find peace in death," the Sadowan whispered, "free of conflict."

The Sadowan toggled Andrelious' lightsaber off just before releasing his grasp, letting the man's corpse fall to the ground, the girth of Andrelious' form shaking on impact. Atra's mismatched eyes watched him for a moment before glancing around at what remained of the room, working his jaw back and forth as sweat stung at his eyes. "How, exactly, am I supposed to explain all this," he offered up the words to the empty space, hearing only the ever so faint echoing of his own voice in response. With an annoyed grunt Atra walked around to the fireplace, sitting down just in range of its emanating warmth. The light reflected softly in his mismatched gaze as he stared into it, focusing on the dancing flames and chasing the shadows of emotion from his mind. What was done had been done, and Atra needed to keep moving forward.

Atra nodded in response, choosing not to offer the Warlord a verbal retort. He was ready to let his lightsaber do all the talking he needed; Mimosa-Inahj was far more reliant on taunts and mind tricks to win fights than the Sadowan was.

The two Sith met in a shower of sparks as their lightsaber blades collided with each other. For once Atra’s eyes almost matched in colour as he stared murderously at his opponent, who returned the stare with his own eyes a deep crimson as he summoned the full fury of the dark side.

The fighters exchanged attempts at various attacks, but found each other more than equal to anything that was tried. Low slashes, fast left-right sweeps, and twirling attacks, nothing worked for either as frustration continued to build. Atra tried again to feign his way into range to punch his opponent again, but Andrelious was more than aware of what was happening; he wasn’t about to fall for the same trick twice. Instead, he allowed the Sadowan to perform the move, before ducking to avoid the uppercut that had previously floored him.

Forcing Andrelious back with a blindingly fast combination, the Battlemaster lunged forward, knowing full well that his enemy would dodge the attack. However, his true target had been the lighting control panel that Mimosa-Inahj had his back to. As Atra’s blade slid into the panel, the room’s lighting immediately turned itself, plunging the room into darkness. With only the light of the fire to go by, Andrelious soon realised what his opponent was planning. The Warlord strained his eyes as he tried to find Atra, who backed away into the darkest part of the room, daring the Taldryanite to follow.

“Intrusion detected! Defence system activating!” a loud computerised female voice bellowed from an unseen speaker grille. Almost immediately, the door leading to the Headmaster’s former public office caved in as half a dozen heavily armed security droids burst in, firing a hail of blaster fire throughout the room. Both dark Jedi blocked the majority of shots, but soon realised that the droids were designed to deal with intruders of all kinds. Such as Equites with dubious intentions.

“Ventus! If we keep fighting, they’ll destroy us both!” Andrelious cried, leaping behind the desk to avoid a second salvo of plasma.

He’s right. He won’t want to die. Atra thought, reflecting a blaster bolt back at the nearest droid and joining his opponent behind the desk. The pair could have easily slain each other; they were mere inches apart and an aggressive move from either would have been difficult to predict in time to stop.

“Let’s get out of here and forget about this. Five left. You draw their fire, I’ll cut our way out,” Atra offered, climbing onto the desk to put his plan into action before the Human could argue. Andrelious complied, standing up and yelling at the droids to shoot at him. The automatons seemed more than happy to oblige and turned their fire on the Warlord, who realised he was now outnumbered five-to-one by a droid model renowned for its ability to take on Jedi. Those odds quickly evened out a little as the older Sith slammed his lightsaber through the chest circuitry of the nearest droid almost in unison with Atra’s destruction of the rear droid. Able to manoeuvre around a little more, the Warlord ducked and dived some more blaster fire, zapping a droid that approached too close with a quick bolt of Force generated electricity, just enough to fry its targeting system.

With one droid now firing wildly at both organic and its fellow automatons, the two dark Jedi moved swiftly towards the exit, Atra leading the way. Andrelious moved to ‘execute’ their final enemy, he found his slash blocked by his opponent. The Warlord realised, too late, that his intentions to betray the Sadowan had been discovered. Smirking, Ventus blocked a desperate counter attack, before raising his right arm, not to punch, but to scoop his enemy with the Force. Feeling himself lifted high into the air, Andrelious cursed and waved his lightsaber furiously at his enemy.

“Nice try, Andrelious. Better luck next life,” Atra hissed, slamming the Warlord hard into the wall above the fireplace. The impact was powerful enough to buckle the wall slightly, but also resulted in a dazed Andrelious dropping almost directly into the flames. The Battlemaster smiled as the final droid focused its programming on his wounded opponent, firing a lethal salvo of blaster bolts directly at the Taldryanite. Managing little more than a final cry of pain, Andrelious began to feel the claws of the Force dragging him into the next world.

Get him for me, Kooki, the Warlord thought as his heart exploded from the sheer power of a blaster bolt ripping its way through his body.