Myrkr is a dangerous world for nearly all sentients. Although once settled by the Neti, it has long since evolved from those days. The flora of Myrkr has a high metal-count, making it easy to hide from sensors and the perfect spot to set-up a pirate base or other criminal operation. What also made this world perfect for all manner of seedy individuals is the presence of ysalamiri—creatures with the ability to neutralize the Force.

The ysalamiri are located deep within the forests of Myrkr, where you have also found yourself. They have evolved the ability to make a bubble that excludes the Force to protect themselves from dangerous predators called vornskrs. These dangerous, canine-like predators hunt using the Force, and as such are highly attracted to anything that is Force-sensitive.

The forests of Myrkr are not for the faint-of-heart. It was used by the Yuuzhan Vong to create monstrosities, and continues to be utilized by the seedier elements of the galaxy. The dangers that lurk under the shadowy canopy cannot be underestimated. Not even the Force can protect you from the dangers of the forest.

You stand seemingly alone in a small clearing. Though you can feel the Force at the moment, you know that not far from this clearing, many of Myrkr’s horrors lie – including the Force-negating ysalamiri – can easily be found… You quickly realize this clearing won’t be safe for long as you sense you are not alone.

An audible groan slipped past Atra's lips as the Quaestor of Shar Dakhan pressed his right palm against his forehead. The nagging presence at the back of his mind was just one more voice among so many buzzing gnats. Each beat of his heart brought forth fresh pain as it introduced added pressure within his skull. "That kriffing Jedi cheated," the Umbaran managed to mutter even as he winced.

The planet Myrkr was far from a desirable destination for the Battlemaster. Yet, one could never reliably dictate what events would unfold once a fine Corellian Whiskey was thrown into the mix. Given the level of discomfort Atra was enjoying, he had taken more than his fair share, and he could say with some level of confidence that Cethgus had done much the same. It was Sanguinius that Ventus didn't trust as far as he could throw him. Jedi were, after all, baby snatchers and self-righteous zealots. Especially when wagers began to get thrown around the table.

Now that he was he had time to think back on his most immediate regret, the Quaestor couldn't help but feel that the Proconsul had been in on the whole ordeal somehow. They were both Entars after all, of course they would join forces against him. The end result? Atra was stuck on Myrkr for at least one rotation, and he was not looking forward to nightfall. Bonus points if he managed to bring back a live ysalamiri.

Wait, was he even getting points for this? For the life of him, Atra couldn't remember what exactly the terms were of the wager. All he knew was that he was on Myrkr, and Sang wasn't. Also, he had a hangover. Not the point, but a prevalent one.

A cool breeze wafted through the small clearing, announcing its arrival by the rustling of the gently swaying branches that surrounded him within the jungle. In the distance he could hear the sounds of life, a reminder of the threats that lurked deeper despite the seeming emptiness of the clearing. That wasn't a surprise though. It was such a common thing for animals to become sparse when a super predator was about. There was no better description for the higher level of beings that populate the galaxy, classifying themselves as sentient and better than the more animalistic inhabits of so many worlds. They were the predators of predators, pressing violence upon each other as readily as they would strike out at any animal that sought to impress upon them.

Again the Force whispered a warning into the throbbing confines of his mind, the presence growing stronger within the realm of his senses. He eyed the foliage before him, glancing to the side out of contemplating. For the briefest moment he contemplated the merits of departing, however whomsoever it was that pressed in upon his solitude already knew he was there. It would be woefully impractical to depart. Instead, Atra flopped unceremoniously to the ground, assuming an almost meditative position as he crossed his legs. He closed his eyes, his brow furrowing in concentration. The Quaestor opened himself to the Living Force, feeling the connection wash over him like a jolt of electricity. The tattoos along his right arm all but flashed into existence in response to the sudden surge of energies. He guided the flow through his body, settling on dulling the pain in his head. It wouldn't due to be distracted by a self-induced handicap if his guest turned out to be less than friendly.

Once the Sadowan had finished he remained as he was, turning his senses outward towards his surroundings. The presence that had been watching from the outskirts seemed to be growing stronger, a sign of increased proximity. His ears almost twitched visibly as the sounds of crushed foliage reached them. Footsteps, careful yet unmistakable without the distraction of vision detracting from his other senses. Whoever it was drew closer... closer... and they stopped? Why did they stop?

Well, that certainly made the situation less clear cut than it needed to be.

Ventus opened just his right eye, only to be greeted by black eyes staring at him curiously from a tattooed face. A mental sigh preceded him opening his remaining eye and fixing his mismatched gaze on the intruder. The Sadowan hazarded a quick glance up then down, taking in first the unmistakable horns of an Iridonian and then attire that could be described as: black followed by more black. Her tunic rose high on her neck, engulfing her pale flesh and leaving the rest of her invisible to the eye beneath her clothes. Once his gaze returned to her own, the Iridonian tilted her head to the side and then rose to her full height before taking a step back from him. Her expression was utterly stoic, almost forcibly so, but the tinge of disappointment was unmistakable as she spoke, "you're boring."

If Atra was one to care, he might have been wounded by that statement. "Well, I try," he said with a hint of sarcasm. The Quaestor kept his eyes on the Iridonian as he rose slowly to his feet, cautious of any sudden attacks. "Listen, I'm not having the most desirable of days. So, how 'bout you do you, and I'm just gonna keep doin' me?"

The Arconan, Nath Voth, narrowed her eyes in annoyance as she processed his question. That subtle change was enough to tell Atra that he had more or less pulled the tale on the vornskr. "What information of use could you possibly have... Tell me now." the female asked with the unmistakable punch of the Force behind her words.

"Well, I am a Sadowan Quaestor after all—" Atra caught himself mid sentence, shaking his head hard to free himself of her unnatural influence before continuing, "but I can most certainly tell you that those clothes do nothing for your feminine side."

There was always a time and place for sarcasm, and as Nath's hand slid towards her long hilted lightsaber Atra was more or less reassured that his death would come from saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. That, or saying something very, very right at quite the wrong time. Either way, it would be worth it.

Nath’s fingers danced across the decorative trim of her hilt thoughtfully as she took a moment to mull over the stranger’s words, her tongue trailing along chapped lips as she removed her hand from her saber. She could have drawn her weapon, but as yet she saw no reason to do so; he was not yet a threat.

“I have no interest in enhancing that aspect of myself.” Idly, she took a step closer, her obsidian gaze assessing the stranger as she pondered her next words. Even sitting down he seemed tall, though she could not yet tell by how much in comparison to her own height.

“You should work on your tan too.” Atra couldn’t help but pick holes in the woman that stood before him. He was bored already, as she was much like all the others he had encountered.

“Give my regards to your Proconsul.” An evil glint of malice in the Iridonian’s eye was the only warning he received before her boot planted itself firmly in his chest, forcing him backwards. Atra easily rolled in reverse and back onto his feet, his chest moving heavily as he caught his breath. The Krath had aimed her kick at his sternum at the center of his ribcage, making the blow purposefully painful.

When I find Ood, I will hack all his limbs off. “A quick trip” my backside. And this one, he thinks he can give me this lip.

Her temper flared as her swiftly dwindling patience finally reached its end. Atra, on the other hand, seemed completely calm, almost as though he expected nothing less from her; his reaction only irked her further. She kept advancing, purposefully invading his personal space until he could feel her warm breath on his skin.

Nath maintained eye contact, his mismatched eyes quite fascinating to her even if they were masked under the tresses of hair. The scarring also caught her attention in the peripherals of her vision but she refused to linger too long upon it. As quickly as her temper had risen she placed careful control back over it once more, willing herself to be calmer once again.

The only reason Atra had not immediately lashed out at the queer Iridonian was due to her curious request, the words dancing across his mind as he puzzled over them.

She must be Arconan.

It was not a farfetched deduction to make, Cethgus had transferred from that Clan, and it was logical someone would like him, though he’d be karked if he could figure out exactly why anyone would. The man did not inspire much respect in the Umbaran.

“So you like that shortie then?” He looked down the four inches that separated them in height, mocking her with each and every word he spoke. Her hand moved quickly. Atra tensed, readying for another physical blow, but it did not come. Instead, the Iridonian satisfied herself with tracing an ice cold fingertip across the visible tattoo she could reach.

How can she be so cold in this heat?

The thought danced across his mind and it wasn’t until his gaze flicked to her hand that he realised how well her clothes hid her. There was barely anything to her hands: white flesh was pulled taut over bone and blood vessels stood out prominently.

The Seeker was pleased with the reactions she received. It was entertaining to watch him flinch from her and a more instinctual part of her brain latched to it; she wondered to herself how far he would be pushed. It was plain to see he was a warrior, battle hardened, and the threat of pain would do little to him at all.

“I have worked with him before if that is what you mean.” Nath moved behind him, she fully intending to push every single button on this male to see how long it would take before he lashed out. Her palm gripped at his upper arm as she moved, cautiously gauging his strength.

“Is there a particular reason why you’re feeling me up? If you want a date, sorry lady you aren’t really my type, like em with a bit more meat than what you have.” The words were spiteful, and if Atra had any kind of morals he may have felt guilt but as it stood he didn’t.

He remained still, unwilling to give the Iridonian the satisfaction of another reaction, he was displeased to have his back to a potential threat. It left him open but he was confident he would win in an open confrontation.

“...I like watching you squirm.” Without warning she bit deeply into the scarred tissue close to his neck, quickly drawing blood with her sharp teeth.

Atra's eyes widened in answer to the sudden piercing sensation that shot through his nerves. At the risk of causing further damage, the large Umbaran spun about and backpedalled away from the Iridonian, putting at least two full paces between them. His dark brown hair hung heavily over his eyes casting a shadow over his too calm expression. Ventus brought his pale fingers up to his neck and played the tips gingerly over his skin, evaluating the mark Nath had left. His eyes flicked downward as he pulled his hand back, observing the ruby stains upon his fingers for a moment before licking them clean.

"Well," he muttered, "that was rude."

Voth laughed unabashedly in response, licking up the drops of crimson that marked her lower lip once she had managed to stifle herself. "Oh, did I startle you?" she questioned with a malicious grin spreading across her lips.

Ventus' lips parted ever so slightly, allowing for a shallow breath to escape as he mentally re-evaluated the situation. "That's how it is then," the Quaestor muttered, "fair enough. How 'bout a taste of home?" The Umbaran had barely finished his sentence before he was in motion, taking a quick pivoting step forward. He pulled on the torquing momentum of the motion as he kicked off the ground, spinning into the horizontal plane as he brought his boot around like a cleaver.

To her credit, Nath managed to step back out of range just as his kick came crashing down, mere inches from her face. So close, in fact, that the rush of air from its wake caused her eyelids to flutter in irritation. The Juggernaut planted the boot in the ground hard, maintaining the momentum he had created and used his freshly grounded foot as a pivot point to flow into a roundhouse kick, which the Seeker managed to drop under, allowing her knees to buckle. She retaliated swiftly, cartwheeling backwards to create space while offering up a kick of her own. Atra made a quick lateral shift, avoiding her darkly covered leg while eyeing her form.

It wasn't sloppy per se, her knowledge of the concepts was fine, but there was something off about the fluidity of the woman's movements. Almost like she wasn't able to get her body to move with the grace that K'thri's practitioners were so known for. Atra's brow furrowed as he pursed his lips in an outward display of disappointment. "Not much of an Iridonian, are you?"

Anger flared brightly in Voth's eyes, having had quite more lip than she could stand from the Sadowan. Ood was in for so much more than an earful from the Seeker when she made it back to Arcona. Before even she had decided what was going on, the crimson flash of her lightsaber hissed to life within her vision, the blade held firmly in her hand. The Juggernaut raised his left arm defensively, his talon-like fingers curving aggressively as he called his saber into the palm of his outstretched right arm. Vestigium of Duriel's cerulean blade offered up a glaring contrast to his opponent's weapon, the comforting thrum a welcome sensation to the Umbaran.

The Arconan opened herself to the Force, bending it to her will with a viciousness that brought a snarl past her lips. She charged forward, holding the long-hilted weapon high as she closed the gap between them. Atra took a single step forward and swung into the strike, bringing his saber in to clash against... nothing. Confusion washed over him for an instant as the image of his attacker passed harmlessly through him, revealing itself as the illusion it was. In reality, Voth was very much attacking him, but from the other direction. Atra didn't have any room to properly react, the Force all but screaming in the aching confines of his head. Taking a deep breath and allowing for a mental prayer, the Umbaran stepped forward again and pivoted in place, neither attacking nor defending.

The action coupled with Nath's momentum brought the Iridonian crashing into Atra's chest, the angle of her neck causing her scarlet horns to press sharply into the meat of his muscles. Without the clashing of weapons, the clearing was an insufferable quiet battlefield, quiet enough to hear both of them breathing heavily and the distinctive hum of their weapons. "Oh? Do we kiss now?" Atra quipped even as Nath growled and shoved him back hard.

"Come on," the Umbaran continued as he raised his saber again in preparation, moving in a circuit around the other combatant. "If it's information you want there are far more enjoyable methods of extraction."

"Do you need to die for that mouth of yours to fall silent?" Voth retorted.

"Quite possibly, care to try?"

Holding her weapon in a firm two-handed grip, the Arconan windmilled the blade from left to right as she closed the gap between them once more, forcing Atra to parry her rapid and aggressive strikes instead of allowing for the ripostes that Makashi was favourable to. They both were intelligent beings, and had each reached the same conclusion, albeit at a different pace. In terms of skill, they were on par, and Voth could more or less maintain the onslaught for as long as either of them cared to, but the Battlemaster was both physically stronger and faster. Trickery was the only way the Iridonian could gain the upper hand, and keep it.

Nath brought her saber down hard, forcing Atra into a horizontal parry that he was forced to maintain rather than merely bat away. Her eyebrows knit together once more as she projected her thoughts among the Umbaran's own. He wavered for a moment, a confused expression before a flush of red creeped into his moon-kissed cheeks and he raised his right eyebrow so high it would be logical to assume it might detach from his forehead. With the Juggernaut's focus elsewhere, for just that moment, the Seeker kicked Atra's inner shin hard, the tip of her boot digging deep into the soft flesh and tissue. He buckled to the side, stumbling to keep up his balance just as Nath slid her crimson blade along his own, aiming for a deciding blow while he was incapable of properly responding. Atra could both sense and see the blade coming and did the only thing he could think of at the time.

He simply fell.

The Sadowan crashed down hard, grunting as his own shoulder blade was driven into the joint in reaction to the impact. Nath reacted quickly however, pulling her right hand free of her saber's hilt and slid it to the small of her back. When her hand reappeared it was grasping an almost decorative dagger, dropping to one knee as she sought to drive the weapon into Atra's waiting body. The Sadowan growled audibly as he focused his power, putting up a quick barrier to fought to slow the weapon's approach. The unexpected resistance was just enough to give Ventus enough time to grasp Nath's wrist and keep the blade from its intended sheath in his chest. A grimace of dissappointment crossed the Arconan's face as she glared down at the bearded man. "That was cheating, young lady. Such filthy thoughts you have," Atra managed to get out between ragged breaths. He was about to say something else when a growl interrupted him. "That... wasn't me, was it?"

Nath said nothing in response, merely turning her gaze slowly up and towards the side of the clearing, completely in sync with Atra who was craning his neck to do the same.

Vornskr... and more than one.

The Arconan thought measured the merits of attempting to control the beasts but was interrupted by the form lying stationary beneath her knee. "Here's a thought," the sarcastic man mused aloud, "how 'bout you run over there, and I run over... say there? Great, perfect, let's do that."

"Or," the Iridonian said as she applied a little pressure to her dagger bearing down on Atra, grinning to herself as his muscles bulged from the effort of keeping himself more or less unscathed, "I stab you and leave them a toy to munch on while I 'run over there'."

"That's fair," Ventus grumbled before tapping his deactivated hilt against her boot, "except I could be all vindictive-like about that."

The Seeker said nothing, staring back at him with what Atra thought was contemplation. Thought being the keyword as the illusion soon dissolved to reveal Nath already well on her way out of the clearing. The vornskr growl and howled, delighted at the prospect of chowing down on their favourite prey, even if the Force-sensitives only felt like ysalamiri to their senses.

"Ah hell," Atra grunted as he sprang to his feet and bolted off in the opposite direction. Judging by the snapping at his heels, the Battlemaster was fairly confident that he had unwelcome admirers for his unexpected sprint through the forests of Myrkr. His mouth hang open as he fought for the the air needed to keep fueling his burning muscles, knowing that he could run through a bubble at any moment and lose the aid of the Force, one of the only things keeping him alive.

Screw the ysalamiri, he thought to himself even as he differed the majority of his focus on the all important matter of survival. I'm giving Sang a few of these if I get out of here alive... and I'm going to have a nice snack while I watch.

She had never ran so fast in her life, breaths passed her lips in small pants as she forced herself forward. The howls of the beasts weren’t far behind, soon they were joined by the sounds of their paws as they plowed through the brush after her.

Nath cursed herself for being foolish enough to use so much of her Force abilities. She had known before coming the Vornskr were drawn to it like any predator was drawn by the scent of blood.

A glance over her shoulder informed her there were three of the black hounds on her tail, which meant at a minimum there were two she couldn’t see yet. The Iridonian could hear the blood pounding in her ears as she pushed forward, the hasty rhythm of her hearts keeping her from lapsing back in her pace.

From the left she felt it coming, the Force warning her just quickly enough for her to draw her lightsaber. She was forced to leap over a thickly growing root from the forest floor, allowing her instincts to guide her she activated the blade as she pivoted to strike. The scent of singed fur and flesh along with a pained howl informed her she had hit the mark. As her boots made contact with the ground again the sound of the wounded beast crashing down met her ears. The Seeker didn’t stop to inspect her handy work hoping its packmates would descend upon it rather than continue the chase for her hide.

---

The Battlemaster didn’t fair much better, he too found himself sprinting to gain more distance between him and his pursuers. The burning ache within his muscles only worsening the longer he kept going. The scenery blurring into varying shades of green as his eyes focused sharply on the path he chose. It was not difficult to loose himself as he ran, his sole focus on escaping the predators that had decided he would be a tasty snack.

In the distance he could hear the pained howl of an injured beast, followed swiftly by a differing one, by many, signaling a successful kill. Idly he hoped it was the Iridonian but he wouldn’t hold his breath. Hopefully she would fall to the pack that had chosen to follow her. He had a feeling it was intentional, that his path had been chosen for him just like hers had been. Vornskr were hunters after all, what hunter did not know their own domain?

When that thought hurtled through Atra’s mind he quickly changed his path, choosing instead to force them to chase in the direction he chose. All the distance he had placed between him and them dwindled in doing so, but he felt more in control, he would not allow them to dictate where he would run.

Slowly but surely he clawed back the distance, forcing them to run around trees and bushes to keep up with him. Stubborn until the end the Vornskr refused to give up, howling, yapping and gnashing their teeth as they kept up the chase.

Ventus kept pushing forward, his body slowly but surely beginning to protest more vehemently as he forced himself to keep on running. He cursed as he passed through the bubble created by the creatures known as Ysalamir, he sensed it coming but could do nothing to prevent his senses from being blinded by it. He felt almost blind without the Force there to guide him.

The predators behind him came to a screeching halt as Atra vanished into the dense foliage, no longer were they able to pick up his trail. He kept running for a while longer, ensuring there was enough distance between them before slowing down. His body now burning as the acid in his muscles had built up.

---

Nath heaved an irritated sigh, she counted her blessings that she wore a vest under the tunic which was now shredded. The black vest also bore the brunt of the claws that had sunk into her back though fortunately for her, her skin had already begun to heal. She discarded the thick vestment, knowing it could not be salvaged even my the best seamstresses in the galaxy.

“What?” She observed the now docile beast that looked up at her, its tail now a short cauterized stump which wagged almost comically at her question. She knew she should probably kill it, the beast could turn on her at any moment but unlike the others it had followed her into the void bubble.

Instead she walked on, completely blind to the Force. The effects were interesting to the Seeker, she couldn't recall a time when the Force had not been guiding her in one manner or another, the gentle ebb and flow of life that was normally all around her subconscious was now void. All she could rely upon was her own wits and instincts to keep her alive.

The Vornskr gave a slight purr as it padded after her, now it could no longer sense the Force being used it was docile; or at least that was her theory. The Iridonian knew enough to survive but was not versed in the indigenous species of every planet she had come to.

Nath gave the animal a glance, not understanding why it prowled so close to her leg, or why it insisted on being a pace ahead of her. She hastened her steps and eventually settled for being at the same walking pace, even if it irked her sense of pride to be an equal in this creature's view.

It took hours of walking, she couldn't deny she was probably lost until Ood decided to break his radio silence. Nath was patient, she could wait it out, she hoped. Her thoughts had run away with her, the Vornskr traveling companion she had acquired had much keener hearing it seemed than herself because his behaviour became much more on edge, its muscles tensed into taught balls as it prowled slightly ahead and before her.

After another five minutes she heard it, the unmistakable sound of boots in thick foliage. The gate was wide, the tree heavy by her ears, probably male. Nath hid behind a tree and waited.

The Vornskr noticed she had stopped immediately. Though in truth he was far more interested in what lay within the higher branches. Since Nath no longer was walking he began to use his claws to traverse up the trunk that was sticky with sap.

Atra had easily spotted the Iridonian, white flesh made for poor camouflage within the jungle. He continued his advance upon her a bit more stealthily masking the foot falls he made as best he could. Something had caught the female's undivided attention.

Ventus pondered what to do with her, he could kill her where she stood if she fought him, if she provided the correct cues she could survive this encounter. There was little joy to have killing the submissive after all.

He crept closer and closer, yet she did not move, he was certain it was no illusion she fabricated because she could not do so here. He noted the absence of the tunic, his estimation of her proving to be correct with just the black vest and obi styled belt to cover her form. She was skin pulled over bone with a thin layer of muscle in between.

Upon her back he could see the fine scarring that intertwined with her back. It spanned too, to the sides of her neck which was now fully at his mercy.

Without hesitation, and in one swift movement he had her pinned against him. His arm spanned across her her chest whilst the fingers of his other palm grabbed at her throat.

Even pressed against his skin she felt cold to his touch, Ventus idly pondered how a being could tolerate being so cold at all times; it didn't seem natural to him.

Still she did not move against him. Only offering more of her neck in submission to his whims. When his fingers began to trace at the scars at the side of her neck she offered it up to his inspection. Atra could easily see they had been designed but he doubted they were hers, the curves far too smooth to be a natural scar.

Nath's gaze remained firmly upward, her body not resistant as he moved her ever so slightly. It was not until the crimson began to fall that Atra looked up. The Iridonian's blackened gaze took in the macabre scene, the Vornskr had torn a gore filled path along the trunk raining down blood, skin, bone and organs of the Ysalamiri that had made that tree their home. "It's beautiful isn't it?" The Seeker beneath his fingers enquired softly. Atra had no concept of what one would deem as beautiful, but he could hazard a guess that it was not this and so decided to remain silent. "Life cycles are always fascinating to see first hand."

"You're mad aren't you?" He changed the topic, moving a fraction to avoid the gore that dropped to meet them.

"Only a little bit I assure you." Atra was not at all assured of anything but before he could really act the Umbaran heard his comm activate and the familiar voice of his Proconsul demanding that he stand down.

He obeyed, but only because he wished to return back to civilised space. Stepping back to allow her her freedom, he looked once more to the skies and together the pair waited for the ship to drop low enough to accept them.

Both pressed their way inside the small ship, eager to go home and not come back. The male Vornskr trotted after them blissfully covered in the acrid copper tang of blood.

Nath collapsed in a heap on a bench, her muscles ached and sleep called to her like a siren. She curled up on her side and allowed her eyes to close.

Atra observed in a bored manner, he had nothing to entertain himself with and couldn't find slumber with a wild Vornskr glaring at him from across the hold of the ship. It was on observing the Iridonian that he realised she was not asleep.

"Will you keep it?" He was a little curious.

"Yes." Nath replied keeping her eyelids firmly closed.

"It'll eat you when you sleep." She stretched her back, popping the joints with a satisfied sigh.

"Then it's fortunate I do not do that often."

Atra stared openly at Nath for the remainder of the journey, uncertain if he liked her or wanted to kill her where she lay.