In the planet of dangerous myths, shocking fables and unspoken legends, there is also beauty in this world. Dispersed around the untamed planet are flaws; cracks formed through thousands of years. Water rushing and destroying cliffs, racing and scooping away the soil beneath your feet and digging crevices untouched by all but a handful of explorers from ages long past. Isolated at the southern tip of Ilum, this particular ravine close to the planet’s core darkens deeper down until the bottom remains a mystery. The benefit of this is that no-one heads directly down instead using technology to bore a tunnel from the nearby glacier. Uncharted and unexplored, this region is a place of nightmares for those who venture to its depths. The half-eaten carcasses of the explorers who met an untimely end litter the ravine’s descent, remaining as a warning to those who might venture too far. Whether these men and women fell to their deaths, or were murdered remains a question in the long-lost histories of the ravine.

In front of you is the base floor of the ravine. Opening only at random times because of the glacier sheet, you used the bore tunnel to find your way here. This level is pitch black and a headlamp was given before you left for the planet. The sides of the ravine stretch vertically, as if they scrape the whistling and snowy clouds above. On each side of the walls, various ports and alcoves distinguish in the light. Some are known to be rivers of purified water, and you can tell this by the icicles forming on the lip of the tunnel. Others were temporary shelter for climbers. But with some luck, you may find the permafrost chamber tucked into its haunted depths. A vast room of permafrost crystals rarely found, and thought only to be on Hoth.

Glinting like candlelight against the unforgiving darkness of the deep and untrodden cave, multi-coloured clusters of lightsaber crystals reflect the light into the deepest crevices from the surface. Untouched for a millennia, the value in this chamber once sparked an entire battle between the Old Republic and the Empire. Be warned - caution must be exercised, or you might find yourself joining those who came before.

The bitter cold of the cave bit down to Destin’s bones as he walked in circles around a small electric heater he and his master had brought with them on this ludicrous journey. Usually he was one for exploring the mysteries of the Force, gaining insight on its true nature and communicating through it with his Master, but this was far, far removed from the comfort of his ship, or the Dark Star, for that matter. Even in his heavy winter clothes he felt the icy chill stiffen his muscles and ache his bones. His Master, though, sat cross legged next to the heater, meditating.

“Something troubles you, apprentice?” she asked, unflinching and unmoving.

“I’m sorry, Master. It’s just… freezing in here,” Destin replied as calmly as he could through jittering teeth. Vorsa extended her legs and stretched them out before standing up. Her features were slightly icy, covered in a white sheen of frost. Her hair, now almost completely shortened to keep frost from accumulating, lacked any semblance of life it once had. The flowers had retracted and the leaves fallen off. This climate was sapping her strength very quickly, and they would soon need to move on. Destin rubbed his fingers together under his thick gloves, determined to finish his task quickly. His Master depended on it.

“What do I need to do?” he asked, half-curious and half-sheepish. His gaze averted towards the large portal into the caves further down. According to Vorsa, there he would find his lightsaber crystal, attuned to his very being by the Force.

“In there you will find what every Jedi seeks.” She motioned towards the cave’s mouth but stopped him with a touch on the shoulder just before he turned to leave. “But you may also find something else inside. You may see things and hear things you have never even dreamt of.” She gave him a worried if hopeful stare. “Be careful and let the Force guide you, apprentice.”

“Yes, Master.” He smiled timidly and walked towards the entrance, still rubbing his hands together. The electric lamp he carried gave him little light, but it was enough to see the path. He turned one last time before entering the grotto. Vorsa’s smile faded as Destin’s back disappeared in the darkness, her right hand slowly reaching for her lightsaber at her belt.

“Come out,” she said in as low a voice as she could without it being a whisper. Her order carried through the dusky cavern with an echo as footsteps crunched the ice and frost near one of the many icy stalagmites protruding from the floor. The Neti had sensed a presence coming closer and closer as they descended — a dark presence — but she didn’t know who or what it was. Sending Destin away was the right choice, it had seemed. He would have only been in the way.

“State your purpose here,” she commanded again, the General inside her surfacing all too clearly.

“If you must know, Jedi, this location has been a viable place for training my students long since my Rollmaster days,” the stubbly, middle aged man holding a saber hilt retorted. “Students that I didn’t have to steal from their mothers’ breasts, unlike you, babysnatcher.”

He was aged, clearly lacking physical training of late, though Vorsa felt a strong threat from him. The man’s hand flashed in front of him, blue tendrils of energy and lightning arcing across the confined space, directly at the Neti. Her right hand reached to meet the current with ease and precision, dousing the swirling vortex of chaos into a single point and evaporating it into the ether.

“You will have to be better, boy,” she replied, flicking her wrist to banish the uncomfortable sensation. Her lightsaber glided into her hand with a rattle as the blade extended midflight, threateningly filling the space between them. “Who sent you?”

“It doesn’t matter either way. You’ll be too dead to bother, and the Council free of your filth.” Andre’s blade came to life in his hand readying for the attack — but the Neti pounced first. In a blink of an eye their sabers met, filling the cavern with light. She never relented, pushing her momentum further in the hopes of overwhelming her adversary. She could sense his strength through the Force, feel his expertise with a blade as they dueled, but she also noticed his sluggishness. She was quicker, faster, more precise. Her movements increased in speed once more as she slapped the Sith’s blade to the side, delivering a roundhouse kick directly to his jaw.

Inahj stumbled away, reeling in pain; Vorsa’s foot slipped as she landed and sent her head bouncing on the icy floor. The Force clamoured warnings as the Neti’s vision stopped spinning. She rolled right just as the Sith’s blade pierced the ice beneath her. With unnatural grace she spun on the floor and stood up on her feet again. She launched herself off of a stalagmite, her bodyweight pushing her forwards even faster than the human expected. Inahj sidestepped in an attempt to dodge the incoming Neti’s lightsaber only to find her fist buried in his gut.

Pushing away the pain and sudden need to vomit, he slammed a Force-enhanced jab into Vorsa’s jaw, sending her reeling back, tumbling head over heels. Once more the Jedi managed to keep her balance and jump upright, even as she slid across the slippery floor. She spat out some sap, glaring at the Sith with eyes of fire and brimstone. Very rarely did the Neti General lose her cool during battle.

This was one of those times. The floodgates were opened and she would become a Fury to anyone threatening her charge.

“You will not harm my apprentice, boy. I will make sure of that.”

Used to being older than those he associated with, Andrelious found it almost refreshing to being addressed as ‘boy’. It was little comfort from the present situation, however. Vyr Vorsa was an accomplished opponent, perhaps even the best of any of the Brotherhood’s Jedi. Her aggression had surprised Mimosa-Inahj, who had expected the Herald to fight with the usual serenity and compassion that came with being a light sider. But having angered the Neti, any chance of such relaxed emotions reflecting in her combat were long gone.

“Your time has come, Vorsa. For too long have you been corrupting young minds with your warped Jedi teachings,” Andrelious spat as he blocked a venom driven attack. The Warlord was delighted that he had managed to bring Vyr’s anger to the surface. As a Sith, he knew exactly how to turn such emotion into a weapon just as powerful as any lightsaber, and how to wield it safely. For Vorsa, who usually kept such things in check, her fury was just as powerful, but also a deadly double-edged sword. Pushing too far against the Taldryanite could cost her everything. With that in mind, she offered no reply to Andrelious. She had already begun to understand how he fought. Taunts and mental tricks were par for the course when it came to Mimosa-Inahj. Against weaker opponents, such things worked brilliantly, but the Herald’s mind was as tough as a durasteel war bunker.

The two lightsabers locked together, sparks flying everywhere. The combatants glared through the crossed blades, eyes full of contempt for one another. Andrelious pushed forward, trying to use his slightly superior strength to force the conflicting weapons closer and closer to Vyr’s body. The Neti stepped back in an attempt to improve her stance, but her foot found ice, causing her to slide a little further backwards than she would have liked. Seeing the mistake, Andrelious pulled out of the lock and tried to outmanoeuvre his opponent, but Vorsa recovered and almost effortlessly blocked the attack.

Swiftly moving from side to side, Vyr used her agility to begin to turn the tide. Andrelious’ attacks remained more powerful, but that extra strength was useless if it couldn’t find a way past the Jedi’s determined defences.

Executing a perfect pirouette to create some distance between herself and her opponent, Vorsa peered up at the cave’s roof. She focused on one of the larger stalactites, ripping it from its base as if the Force had let her curl a rope around it. Andrelious was still moving forward to reclose the gap, but, as he approached, the Warlord, having heard the rocks snapping, looked up to see what the Jedi had done. With the stalactite bearing down on him like a huge stone warhead, the Taldryanite disengaged from Vorsa and turned his attention to the falling rock. Jumping as high as he could manage, Andrelious plunged his lightsaber in, cutting the stalactite in half with some difficulty.

Landing on his feet a few yards away from his opponent, the Warlord turned and smirked at the Herald.

“Nice try, Jedi.”

Andrelious shot forward, his crimson blade slamming against the Herald’s in a flash of incandescent light. He took to the advance now, pushing the Neti back with every strong blow. She dodged and parried deftly, but the brute strength of each attack pushed against her defenses enough to make her withdraw.

The light radiating from their duel glittered on icy surfaces as they entered the dark corridor where only minutes earlier young Destin had disappeared. There was little room to maneuver in the dark and narrow tunnel, denying Vorsa her speed and bolstering Andrelious’ confidence. The Warlord smirked against the flashing lights of their sizzling blades, the whites of his teeth a macabre sight to behold.

He oozed the Dark Side, letting its corrupting influence breach deeper into the Neti’s mind with every successive blow. “Your apprentice won’t die today, Jedi. No,” Andrelious spat in between blows as he advanced on his opponent. “He will become mine, and you will have failed, just like your whole Order.” He struck again, another blow deftly deflected, yet he could sense her apprehension and anger lingering beneath the surface. He only needed to push more.

“You can do nothing but watch as I take what you most treasure.” Andrelious slammed his sole into Vorsa’s abdomen, sending the Herald tumbling. She somersaulted back, brushing against one of the sharp icicles lining the floor. Sap oozed out of the wound as Vorsa gritted her teeth. She was becoming more and more unstable under Andrelious’ relentless mental onslaught. The Warlord’s self-gratifying grin remained ever present.

He pushed her further, and where she tried to outmaneuver him, the narrow passage would not allow. Where she tried to jump over him, the ceiling was too low. She could only move backwards and conserve her energy. The combatants entered a large chamber, finally giving Vorsa what she needed: space.

“Master?!” Destin’s voice appeared out of nowhere to their left. Andrelious’ eyes moved from his adversary to the young man, a glint in his eyes revealing his intent. As he raised his hand and a spark of electricity caressed his fingers, Vorsa’s telekinetic push already reached Destin and sent him flying behind one of the icy pillars.

“Get out of here, Destin!” she yelled at him, brokering no argument. Her golden eyes locked on the Sith with murderous intent. “You will not get him.”

“Oh I will, and you won’t be here to see it,” Inahj pushed the Neti’s resolve to its limit as another wave of Dark Side energy crashed against her mental barriers. The Herald attacked again, her blade a blur reflecting off of the multitudes of crystals laying about and around the walls. The dance of light and shadow would have been beautiful to behold, were it not death’s dance that created the display.

The crimson blades crashed into a lock again, sizzling heat escaping the containment field in a show of sparks and light. Andrelious’ pushed her both physically and mentally now, a barrage of energy on all fronts. She would falter soon, he knew. Everyone did.

Vorsa twisted her saber arm over her head and left shoulder, breaking out of the lock and letting Andrelious’ momentum take him away from her. As he recuperated and counterattacked, she struck. Her telekinetic grip held the Sith firmly by the throat and chest as she lifted him up and slammed him against a nearby pillar, then tossed the man on the floor, breaking several stalagmites and icicles along the way.

Andrelious raised his head at his opponent, now marching determinedly towards him, eyes as cold as the glacier around her, emotions as flat as the icy floor beneath her feet. He picked himself up, grunts and sighs echoing his injuries. But before he could attack again, the Neti spoke.

“For four hundred years I have learned to harness and control my anger, unlike you. You will not break my resolve,” she said in flatly, raising her saber level with his head. “You are still a child with too big of a toy to play with. Leave, and return when you are worthy of my presence, boy.”

“Typical Jedi,” Andrelious sneered. “Your arrogance will be your downfall.”

“I’ve heard that line many times, boy,” Vorsa replied icily, her contempt for the Warlord obvious. “Today will be the last. The Shadow Lord isn’t here to save you now,” the Sith shot back. He had never been a supporter of the alliance forged by his former Consul Atyiru, even after having fought alongside the Urrites. He had secretly briefed his team to attack the Jedi once the O’reenian threat had been neutralised, but the opportunity hadn’t come about. Now, with the Warlord face to face with one of Odan-Urr’s most prominent Jedi, he had that chance. He just needed to keep Vorsa at bay.

Attacking with slower, but stronger moves than his opponent, Andrelious tried all kinds of moves. Vorsa, an expert of the difficult but deadly Vaapad style, matched everything that the Sith could muster, waiting patiently for Mimosa-Inahj to leave an opening.

Bringing his lightsaber downwards, Andrelious attempted to force another lock, but V’yr moved away with a deft backwards step. She was re-engaged almost immediately by the Sith, who continued to resolutely test the Neti’s defences.

Destin, having ignored his Master’s pleas to flee, was watching the duel, fearful of its consequences. He had never quite seen the Herald be pushed so close, and he was just as worried that a victory for Vorsa would leave him with a Master who followed the dark path.

“So your boy considers himself Alderaanian. Interesting, given he’s not old enough. I wonder what my wife will think of that,” Andrelious taunted, already knowing that Kooki wouldn’t be pleased.

“It won’t matter, Sith. Destin is on his way to becoming a Jedi. You are not going to jeopardise that!” Vorsa roared, channelling her anger into a series of lightning fast attacks. Her opponent, with a seeming calmness, moved his lightsaber to block each and every attack, the Force helping him move into place where his own agility could not.

Feeling her frustration and anger building, V’yr swung her blade around with such speed that her enemy had no chance of parrying her attack. Her blade easily bypassed its opposite number, leaving Andrelious with a large cut in his side. Roaring in agony, the Warlord countered, his strength allowing him to brush past the Jedi’s lightsaber. With Vorsa exposed momentarily, the Sith sliced his lightsaber into his opponent’s right arm, creating a deep, burning wound that filled the area with the smell of burnt wood.

“You die now, Sith!” Vorsa cried, finding it a little difficult to wield her blade effectively. Andrelious, too, was clearly suffering from the injuries picked up, but also seemed far less tired. With incredible effort, V’yr attacked again, no longer caring if the ends justified the means. She dipped her lightsaber around the Warlord’s slowing defences, but she put relied too much on her wounded arm, forcing her to alter the trajectory of her attack. Instead of removing the Sith’s head, as she had intended, the Vanguard’s weapon swung through the air, singeing the front of Andrelious’ right trouser leg.

Seeing his chance, Andrelious slammed his lightsaber blade forward, this time neatly impacting with the Jedi’s left shoulder. The Warlord’s weapon made short work of the Herald’s tree-like body, removing her left arm and leaving the Jedi sprawling on the floor.

Destin spotted that his Master was down. Without further hesitation, he headed for the chamber’s exit. Leaving V’yr on the floor, cursing and threatening him, the Warlord began to give chase, with a single look back at the defeated Herald. He had wanted to destroy Vorsa, but the chance to make her see Mimosa-Inahj turn her apprentice into everything she sought to destroy was, in Andrelious’ mind, an even more emphatic victory. The fact that he was wounded would have to wait; Destin would be easy prey.

V’yr Vorsa’s apprentice would soon be a Sith.