You step out onto the training field and squint momentarily as the sunlight hits your face. When your eyes adjust, you look around you and see the trappings common to military campuses - stout buildings with fluttering flags, a paved parade square, and heavily armed battlements. The training field itself is meticulously maintained grass that could easily act as a landing field for dozens of fighters and transports. The horizon is clear of all but trees and the ominous weapons turrets that ring the walls.

The cadets of the Taldryan Military Institute see you, tensing to attention as they notice your battle armour. They are hurriedly ordered off the field by their officers and rush into the safety of the closest buildings. You see the guards in the battlements re-direct their attention from the exterior of the campus to you, but they know not to interfere in the affairs of Jedi.

Without the bustle of the cadets and the barked orders of their officers, the air grows still and even the sounds of animals quiets. You walk to the center of the training field and wait for your opponent

Howlader scratched at his beard, and tugged at the heavy and uncomfortable battle armour he was required to wear while out on the parade grounds. He longed for the comfort of his free flowing robes and the chair on the Senility. Howlader was an old warrior and had no problem with combat, but in his mind, a gentleman fought from the comfort of a chair. He shook the thoughts off and concentrated on the hour’s upcoming task – his black armoured opponent was drawing closer, and old prophet felt something he had not felt in what felt like years. It was not fear, exactly, Howlader could feel the power of his opponent and Howlader was far stronger, so existential danger was not likely - but it was something in his own mind. He wished that his appearance on the grounds had not driven away the cadets – the noise of their training might have made this easier. The apprehension Howlader felt was of his own making, he wondered if he could still manage to make his muscles and joints work the way they used to, he wondered if he still could command the Force the way he used to…

Unfortunately for Howlader, all that self-doubt turned into a bit of a self fulfilling prophecy – as his brown-eyed opponent leaped toward him and used the full power of his youth and vigour to drive his quarterstaff into Howlader’s upper chest, knocking out the old man’s breath and sending him flailing to the ground.

With his ears ringing and eyes blurry from the impact, Howlader could not make out what his opponent was saying while lording over him, but he assumed it was some sort of taunt or otherwise comment of mockery. Resolved, Howlader steadied his mind, reached out with the telekinetic powers of the Force to throw his opponent off his feet. Using that moment of confusion, Howlader clambered back to his feet and managed to activate his lightsaber…

Tyron wasn't suspecting it when he was suddenly swept off his feet by an invisible force. He cursed as he got to his feet and realized that Howlader had gotten back to his own feet and ignited his Lightsaber. The Acolyte had allowed himself to get caught up in the moment and his opponent used that to his own advantage. Tyron ignited his own Lightsaber, the red blade humming to life as he took an offensive stance. The two Sith circled around each other, both waiting for the other to make a move. Tyron decided he would be the one who made the first move. He charged at his opponent with his Lightsaber wielded diagonally at his side. It only took the first pass for him to realize Howlader Taldrya was a highly skilled opponent; just what Tyron expected from from the Preconsul. Deflecting a quick slash intended to disembowel him by the opposing Sith. the Acolyte wheeled to intercept a hard swipe at his neck from the bearded man. As Tyron parried a savage thrust by the man at his unprotected flank He delivered a spinning round kick to the Preconsul's side, sending him. Tyron's training in lightsaber combat was limited due to his rank but he was a formidable foe on the battlefield nevertheless. He came at his lone opponent aggressively, holding nothing back, knowing he was fighting to save not just himself but his building reputation within the Brotherhood as well. His blade danced and sizzled, moving too swiftly for the eye to follow. The man fell back under the assault, parrying the blows and retreating until he was finally forced to leap backwards and draw his combat stamps. The Sith Acolyte quickly switched to a more defensive stance when he saw them, knowing his opponent was just getting started. Howlader charged at Tyron furiously. Tyron gathered his energy and quickly unleashed it in a storm of deadly purple aimed directly at his opponents chest. His opponent must have sensed the Dark Side gathering inside of Tyron because at the last instant he rolled to the side avoiding certain death. The Acolyte seized the opportunity and leapt at his opponent while the Preconsul was scrambling to get back to his feet with his Lightsaber at his side he made a quick slash at his opponents torso.

Howlader felt the very tip of Kesh’s lightsaber contact his stomach, while the smell of burning fabric and seared flesh attacking his nostrils, and then he lurched about in pain, reaching to cover the wound with his left hand, while reaching out with the Force to throw his opponent away with the right. Kesh collided with the ground with a large crash, and Howlader could hear call out in pain even with the relatively large distance between them. While writhing on the ground, trying to get his bearings, Howlader realized that he was barely in shape to get up to his feet in the normal way, let alone be able to defeat Kesh in the traditional sense. Howlader needed a new strategy, and he needed it soon.

Howlader searched around the grounds of the Military Institute, looking for something that could get him out of this mess. On his second or third pass, while trying to fight through the searing pain on his right side, Howlader noticed that the battlements above the square were still in place. These large, almost certainly ceremonial structures were reminiscent of what one would find on a castle from eons ago, long before energy weapons and space flight. The decorate stone structure, Howlader surmised, could be brought down to the ground using sufficient force, and that could trap or immobilize Kesh long enough for Howlader to get his bearings.

Having no other viable alternatives, and certainly no way to actually stand and hold a lightsaber, Howlader reached out with the Force and started to shake some of the stone fixtures from their stationary positions. The stones chipped and shook and eventually came loose, tumbling to the ground – pinning Kesh’s legs under their mass, stopping him from finishing off Howlader.

At the last moment before Tyron's Lightsaber cut him in half the Preconsul thrust his hand out and sent the Acolyte flying backwards with the Force. Tyron landed hard on the ground, gritting his teeth he got back on his feet only to see his opponent was back on his feet as well. Tyron had decided it was time to end this battle, on his terms. Using the Force to rejuvenate him he charged at Howlader Taldrya, his opponent drew his Lightsaber and charged too. Both Lightsabers clashed with such force it almost threw Tyron off balance. The two Sith continued to clash with each other until Howlader jumped back again and went into a defensive stance. The Preconsul was clearly waiting for Tyron to charge at him but for what reason the Acolyte couldn't figure out. Tyron knew he wasn't going to figure out what Howlader had up his sleeves by just sitting there. He ran at his opponent but he realized what his opponent was doing once was a couple feet away from him. Through the aid of the Force the Acolyte saw the imposing danger of his opponent pulling his Combat Stamps out. Before his opponent could make a move Tyron jumped over the bearded mans head through the aid of the Force, completely throwing the Preconsul off. Once he landed on the ground behind Howlader he shot a flurry of purple lightning at his unsuspecting opponent. Howlader yelled in agony and fell to the ground. Tyron loomed over his opponents badly charred back, Howlader was still alive, the attack hadn't been meant to kill him but only to maim the Preconsul. As he walked away from the battlefield he mumbled "It's over."