Begeren. Once a prosperous Sith world, it has been the site of numerous battles throughout the millennia. Grand halls and monuments were torn down and re-purposed by looting Republic forces thousands of years ago, before they were driven from the planet. Isolated settlements still dot the planet's surface, but the inhospitable, craggy, and desert-like terrain, along with the beasts common to many desert and Sith worlds, have kept most humanoids from colonizing. Occasional skirmishes have left debris scattered throughout the desert, and battles were fought here as recently as the Galactic Civil War. The planet is now under the control of the One Sith and is rumored to be full of all manner of priceless, ancient Sith artifacts.

The Dark Council has pushed forth to Begeren and the Grand Master, on his quest for ever more powerful items, has decreed the Clans and Houses seize anything of value. The unity shown by the Brotherhood during the beginning of this Crusade is fracturing, with the Clans and Houses growing tired and frustrated with the seemingly endless succession of battles. Tempers are flaring between former allies, with outright aggression no longer uncommon. Despite this, you have responded to the Grand Master's call—though whether it's to actually seize the items for the Brotherhood, destroy them, or use them for your own purposes, only you know.

You have followed the call of the Force to a stretch of desert wasteland, seemingly unremarkable save for the various rock outcroppings that dot the landscape. These outcroppings, though, hide a subterranean cave network, known to be a den of wraids. Though the entrances to the caverns are typically narrow and dark, these tunnels quickly widen. Below the surface, bioluminescent plants and lichen provide limited light.

You know that, despite reaching this place first, you won’t be alone for long, as an ancient Sith tomb is located deep within the caves the wraids now call home. Exactly what you’ll find in that tomb, you’re not sure—but it is something of great power, that much you can sense. You know it is your duty to find it, whatever it is, before any others can locate it. What you do with it when you find it… that is up to you.

As you near one of the entrances to the caves, you think you hear the sounds of footsteps, or maybe skittering, down below—and above ground, you hear the distant crunch of rock underfoot as someone else has found a different rocky cave entrance as well.

Blood. Seeping through the desolate sands of Begeren, the viscid substance forever stained the earth. Black as the late emperor Palpaltine’s miserable bones, the ichorous liquid all but dissolved on contact with the coarse ground. Letting out a final bellow from its monstrous jaws, the once-indomitable creature let out its final breath. Misshapen and lifeless, the wraid collapsed under the weight of its tremendous pinkish-red mass with a heavy “thud.”

A’lora was athletic and sharp; the Togruta tucked her legs beneath her, using her momentum to roll from beneath the creature, moments before it fell. The spear remained in place; it’s sharpened and smooth tip lodged in the monster’s ribs. Even though the weapon’s shaft was still within reach, she didn’t bother to recover it. Time was of the essence and every delay: a distraction.

Born and raised a hunter, A’lora was no stranger to the killing of predatory beasts. However, she regretted butchering one that would be left to rot and putrify under the harsh climate that accompanied such a barren and inhospitable world.

Odan-Urr’s Sentinel Network intercepted a transmission from Brotherhood channels. The conflict between the Grandmaster and his One Sith enemies was a memory, yet something remained buried among the outcroppings of Begeren. The jagged crags withheld countless secrets. Treasures from a different age, faded through the centuries still echoed some small fraction of the terrifying Dark Side presence that once inhabited Begeren. However, this particular relic was a threat that boasted untold potential.

Springing to her hand without more than a thought, the rough, sand-scored hilt of A’lora’s lightsaber ignited with a snap-hiss. Even though its emerald glow illuminated the mouth-like opening of a long-forgotten cavern, the blade itself was nearly invisible against the analogous intensity of the system’s star.

“Looking for this?” A voice boomed from the cave’s entrance. Stepping into the light provided by the Aedile’s elegant blade, a formidable opponent stared out from behind an equally intimidating mask. Scholae Palatinae. She knew that crest well, as the emblazoned logo reflected from the mask’s raised surface under the dim lighting of the entrance. The Scholae Palatinae Quaestor reached into the jet black folds of his cloak and produced a small item.

When it was raised into the light, A’lora knew the artifact for what it was: a crystal. It seemed to pulsate with a reddish glow, illuminating the human’s palm in brief intervals of time.

“What would you want with such a worthless trinket?” The woman mused. Her lavender skin contrasted against the shadowy, imposing visage.

Xen’mordin laughed, “Why do you presume that I do, in fact, want such a ‘worthless’ trinket for my own purposes?” He rejected, “The question is: What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t have any use for a relic that has already been corrupted.” She raised her lightsaber to signal readiness, “Surrender the gem, or meet your doom, Sith.”

In that instant, a crimson glow illuminated the rest of the cavern’s entrance. The unsettling disguise faded when the Quaestor removed his mask. Instead, a deformed man met her gaze; his features corrupted by the Dark Side’s influence that twisted his body over the years. Cracking a grin, he surged forwards.

“Show me how you fight, Jedi.”

Like many planets that had been corrupted by the Dark Side of the Force, Begeren, had that something special that made Xen’Mordin’s skin tingle with excitement. He took a step forward, crimson blade illuminating the walls of the cave around him. He was solely focused on the Jedi before him. Despite the sureness in the Togruta’s voice he could see the uneasiness in her light violet eyes. Xen took another step forward, easing off the restrictive cloak from his back. It fell silently to the ground.

And then he was running.

A’lora was no stranger to combat and brought her emerald blade up to meet the Sith’s bloody red one. The blades met with a crack before being pulled apart. Xen spun clockwise letting the force guide his movements. A’lora just as focused and moved her blade to the right of her body, once again meeting Xen’s blade in defense. A’lora took a step back. For the briefest of seconds the Jedi looked away from the Sith’s blade and toward another opening in the caverns wall. She noticed the slightest of reflected light along the cave walls.

Xen’Mordin noticed the glance and grinned.

“Don’t like the confined quarters of the cave? Looking for a place to run away to so soon?” The Quaestor sneered. A’lora pushed back as hard as she could against Xen’s next strike and took several more steps back toward what she hoped was another way out to the more open surface of the planet.

“I just want more light to better see the shock on your face when I win,” A’lora taunted, continuing to step back and deflect the strikes Xen made. Even here on a corrupted planet, the force was a great ally for the Jedi. As she blinked she pushed outwards from her body. It wasn’t a particularly powerful push, but it caught Xen mid-step. Despite his size and forward momentum he found himself quickly trying to stay on his feet as he was pushed back. It was the opening A’lora needed. As Xen regained his footing A’lora was already running down the smaller cavern. Xen growled in frustration and raced after his opponent.

A’lora exploded into the light and open air of the planet. She put some distance between herself and the opening of the cave. Just as she turned to face the Sith, Xen’Mordin came barreling out of the opening with a primal scream of rage. For half a second A’lora thought his eyes were glowing. Blade hilt gripped tightly in his left hand Xen pointed forward with his right as his feet hit the slightly sandy desert ground outside the cave. Loose rocks around the cave entrance came hurling out of the air toward the Jedi. She ducked and rolled to the side, only getting hit by some of the smaller pieces. They would bruise, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle.

Without having any time to get back to her feet, she had to throw the rest of her body to the ground, landing on her back, green blade held firmly above her, The full weight, strength, and rage of the Warlord she faced was bearing down on her. She held her blade defensively above her with both hands and Xen thrashed down again and again and again. Each contact between the blades brought A’lora’s own blade closer and closer to her body. She was out of time.

Acting on instinct, she pushed her body around, bringing her legs toward the back of the Sith’s knees. She made contact just as Xen’s blade was at its peak, ready to come crashing down.

Xen fell hard as his knees gave out beneath him. He swore as the ground came up to meet him. His lightsaber snapped off as he threw his hands out to help stop his fall.

For a moment both combatants froze, Xen on his hands and knees, A’lora still lying on her back.

“You are holding back,” Xen said softly as he stared at the ground. “I can feel it.”

Xen push himself back up to his feet. A’lora pushed herself up and took several steps back. She shook her head to let her Lekku fall more naturally.

“What do you know of it?” She asked, bringing her lightsaber up to defend herself.

“I know that it is why you will fail,” Xen replied, snapping his own blade back on.

Glistening under the fleeting sunset of the Begeren system’s singular star, the Togruta’s lavender form continued to build up a layer of perspiration. Gathering at the small of her back, the moisture wasn’t from the sweltering heat of Begeren’s fading light, so much as it was from the battle at hand.

“You’re right,” She snarled, “But it will not be me who takes the fall.”

Arrogance was the downfall of countless Sith; practitioners of the Dark Side had a failing in overestimating the extent of their abilities. Xen’mordin was no different. Headstrong in his reverence towards the superiority of the boiling hatred rushing through his veins, he failed to sense the other’s emotions.

Peace. Serenity. Even in the midst of a world irreversibly corrupted by the presence of Dark Side influence, there remained few glimmers of light untouched by the corruption of Sith. Begeren’s star was one of these beacons; no matter how relentless the Dark Side might be, it remained a constant presence in the Living Force.

Of course, there were also the wraids.

“Kill me then, Jedi! Let’s see if you can live up to that challenge.”Xen’mordin’s face contorted into a grimace. For a moment, the twin orbs inside his skull seemed to glow with malevolence while he drew unknowingly upon the full powers contained within the artifact. Clutched within his free hand, the gem continued to oscillate between shades of obsidian and a blood red.

The ground began to shake – pebbles rose to the surface and appeared to bounce in random directions. Slowly, this uncontrollable pattern began to accelerate in force, unbalancing the combatants and forcing them to struggle against Begeren’s rage. The wasteland had erupted in a violent earthquake.

Or was it?

“Come back here, Jedi!” Xen’mordin shouted above the roiling of the ground beneath his feet. Then, he noticed the sandstorm. For a moment, he considered retreating into the cavern, but the image of his opponent running headlong into the turmoil gave him pause. His lightsaber thrummed before him, the whispers inside his head imploring him to hold his ground. He shunned the idea of retreating, instead lifting the mask to his face to shield himself from the airborne particles of gravel.

Before he knew it, the sandstorm had enveloped him. Suddenly it all became clear; the woman had been biding her time and strength for this. Crackling with electricity, his fingers stretched towards the nearest of the oncoming beasts. Momentun kept the wraid moving towards him, even while its entrails began to sear. Planting his boot on the reptile’s plated skull, the husk tumbled to a stop.

Using the foul-smelling carcass as cover from the stampeding wraids, the Warlord severed the front most legs of another reptile, bounding overhead. Landing in a tumble, the massive creature collided with another, sending it off-course from the swarm. Grinning under the mask, he took amusement in watching the herd trample over one another. What he didn’t see, was the sight of a Togruta mounted atop one of the beasts.

Weaving through the air in circular arcs, the whip closed around the Palatinae’s ankle with a “snap.” In confusion, the Sith looked at his feet, only to witness the loose slack of the cord as it tightened around his leg…

…Suddenly he was dragging. He didn’t know when it had occurred – only that he didn’t have time to react. “No!” His voice clipped behind his mask as the gem was ripped from his grasp. Widening in horror, his eyes faded to their natural hue only moments before his faceplate collided with the leg of a wraid.

Rolling and crunching under the bombardment of reptilian claws, the symbol of his position was crushed under the onslaught. Its forehead dented outwards at an angle opposite to the natural slope of a humanoid cranium. Slowly, the object was reduced to little more than a piece of metal, pitted with chips and worn from the sand. The crystal didn’t fare much better.

Scattering into a loose formation, the herd slowed to a crawl. Disappearing into the cavern that marked their den, the onslaught ceased. With a single leap, the Jedi disembarked from the reptile, her lekku trailing behind her. Barefoot, she stepped towering above the Warlord.

“I told you I would not be the one to take the fall.” She admonished, standing over the crumpled form of one who had named himself the Emperor of the Cocytus System. She had seen the rise and fall of monarchies; the liberation of those under their control. As much as the position disgusted her, she knew that ending him here wouldn’t change anything. When she looked down, she saw a man beaten and broken. Her mission was complete, there wasn't need for more bloodshed.

He looked up, a hatred burning in his features. “Why are you waiting, Jedi?” He spat at her feet, flecks of blood dotting her dark skin. She considered striking him down for a moment. In that moment, the Force supplied her with a vision.

Xen’mordin closed his eyes, bracing himself for the searing impact of the emerald blade that balanced at the base of his neck. Scholae Palatinae would survive; in his absence a new power would seize control and exact his vengeance. To his surprise, he looked up to see the emerald blade had disappeared.

“This is why you fail.” He warned, even as she began to stride away. “This is why you fail!”

She stopped, only for a moment, “There are worse things than wraids on this planet. They will find you, and I don’t want to be around to see it. Farewell, Vismorsus.”

Xen’Mordin didn’t waste any time. Gripping his lightsaber hilt tightly he lashed forward. The Jedi met each attack with grace, defending herself from the onslaught of rage from the Sith. As Xen brought his blade down again, A’lora ducked, then jumped and unnatural height and distance, flipping over Xen’Mordin’s head, landing behind him.

Xen’s strikes had caused A’lora to lose ground from where they had burst from the depths of darkness. A’lora wanted the gem, plus whatever artifacts that could be found in the cavern. She knew this particular entrance led to halls of items not seen in centuries. She couldn’t afford to lose track of it, not when others, Brotherhood and One Sith alike were crawling over the entire planet.

Xen turned to face the Togruta, holding his crimson blade with both hands. He smiled.

“You desire these trinkets. You don’t want this battle to distract you from the prizes that could be yours. If you would just let go, let your hate and lust propel you forward you could have it all. We don’t need to keep trying to kill each other,” Xen said.

“Already pleading for your life then? Some Sith you are,” A’lora spat back. There was just a glimpse of uncertainty behind her eyes.

“No,” Xen laughed, “pleading for yours.”

A’lora planted her feet firmly, bracing herself for Xen to resume the attack. Xen took a slow step forward, and then another. They were still far enough apart, that barely the tips of their lightsabers could touch if they reached out to each other.

And there Xen stood, strongly gripping his lightsaber, feet apart, ready to strike. But he did no more. A’lora shuffled uneasy on her feet. She would have to make the first move. The Jedi took a deep breath and tried to calm her mind. She knew the force was her ally. And despite fighting her own inner demons, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that the force would let her win the day. Pushing aside her overthinking mind, she let the force guide her.

She stepped forward, and lunged.

Back and forth, crimson met emerald. The desert air came alive with the concert of humming and cracking as the Jedi and Sith attacked and defended against each other. A’lora would sweep from the left, and Xen would have his blade there to deflect it. As A’lora would pull away from her attack, Xen would sweep with his own blade, which A’lora would then deflect herself.

Xen felt the sweat drip from his forehead. He was a leader, and not the fighter he once was. The Jedi was good, but he knew something she didn’t. His mind was aflame with rage, blood boiling with it, every vein in his body pumping with it. And so after deflecting another blow, he acted on it.

Xen feigned an attack with his lightsaber, but instead of striking, he turned his body and pushed himself forward, uncomfortably close to the deadly green blade of his opponent. With all his strength and momentum behind him, he brought his right fist up, and made contact with A’lora’s jaw.

A’lora lifted slightly off her feet and fell backwards from the strike, a look of mixed shock and pain on her face. The Jedi hit the ground hard, eyes watering. The rage she fought to control came bubbling very close to the surface. It had been a mistake to go for the feint, and she knew it could be the end for her. Focusing with all of her might she frantically tried to get to her feet before the Sith could deliver the killing blow.

As she scrambled to her feet, she was slightly aware of the sound of Xen swearing, and the sound of scraping claws on rock behind her.

Xen took several rapid steps back. Their battle had brought them closer back to the entrance to the cave system they had been in moments earlier. In the opening was a wraid, twisted and vile looking. It lunged forward, and its powerful jaws clamped around the torso of the Togruta.

A’lora let out a shocked scream. Xen knew it as the scream of someone who was dead, but just didn’t realize it. There was a sick crunching of bones as the wraid shook its head violently. Blood came pouring out of A’lora’s body like water over a cliff. Xen continued to walk backwards, blade raised in defense incase the wraid decided it needed a second prey to feast upon.

As Xen got further away, he made a quick movement, pressing a button on his communicator, signaling a shuttle to come get him. There was another scream from the Jedi, much more faint this time.

Xen scowled as he turned and took off at a run. He had been denied his kill. But he was alive and with the gem in hand, it was good enough for today.