The Final match of the Grand Masters Tournament takes place on the ruins of what once served as the heart and foundation of the Dark Jedi Brotherhood. A landscape desecrated by ancient powers, charred buildings have been reduced to rubble but the remains of a once great temple still “burn” to this day.

The ruins and remains of Antei around the Dark Temple are littered with rubble and decay. Tall spires have been toppled and withered with corrosion from the planet's periodic dust storms. The once great Dark Hall is mired with collapsed pillars and door frames. The remains of life are scattered and covered in layers of ash; broken furniture, fractured machinery and combusted equipment littering the apocalyptic palette of grays and greens. Wild winds whip through the hollow landscape with harrowing howls, a sense of death and finality hanging heavy in the air. This aura is neither dark or light, but stands as living effigy to the diminutive scale a sole individual has on an entire world being reduced to a desolate graveyard.

What better place for two Champions to decide their fate? What better grounds to determine the Grand Masters Champion?

The winds ripped around her marching feet, dirt collecting on the metal of her cybernetics and building up on the edges of her goggles as she maneuvered her way through the broken debris of the ruins. She had never been to Antei before and though she had been given a brief rundown of what to expect she truly had never experienced anything like it, it almost made Nar Shaddaa seem homely. The wind ripped around again and her cloak tugged against her neck before falling back to cover her. Knee high boots trudged through the filth and her corseted dress barely protected her from the abuse the environment had decided to throw her way.

She let out a hacking cough as the wind picked up again and she managed to inhale a wad of dust. As she spat to the side and ran the back of her hand across her mouth she sighed, pulled her cloak tighter around her and headed in the direction of what had been described as the Dark Hall.

She entered the vast expanse and took in the devastation wrought upon it’s grand features. Something visceral tugged at her heart strings as she began to realise what a beautiful place this would have been in its heyday. The fact that she would never get the chance to see it sparked an anger in her chest and a soft, almost inhuman growl escaped her lips as they curled back into a sneer of disgust. “Such a waste, a monument to glory brought so low by the foolishness of others,” she muttered to no one in particular as she passed a darkened recess that the light barely touched, blocked by two conjoining, broken pillars.

“I couldn’t agree more.” It came out of the dark, a hard kick to her back which sent her tumbling as her opponent appeared from his Force cloak. She rolled across the ground coming to a halt and pushed herself up to see the man coming towards her at a run. She reached out and managed to maneuver a piece of masonry with the Force across the front of his feet which threw him off balance and gave her the chance to push herself up. The snap-hiss of his saber ignited and she barely managed to bring hers up in time to block his first blow.

Blows were traded and the sound of hissing blades filled the empty chamber as they struck upon one another, a right swing turned into a thrust was smacked to the side, whilst an overhead smash was parried then flicked away with grace. Ophelia began to realise they were both trading blows equally and neither was giving ground. Though she also began to realise he would gain the upper hand with his more refined style compared to her aggressive sweeps and strikes. Then it happened, she took her mind away from the fight for too long and his blade grazed her left side, sparks flying as plasma seared through cybernetics, followed by an uppercut that sent her stumbling back with a surprised mutter.

“Why you little piece of,” she hissed and swung in hard, but he almost seemed to know the blade was about to fall. He wasn’t where she expected him to be. She felt his hand connect to her left side and heard a satisfying yelp as his fist struck metal. The Knight reeled from the shock as she side stepped and delivered a backhand with her left arm that sent him reeling to the floor. She righted herself and backed away from Areticus, allowing herself to catch her breath as he pushed himself to his feet more gracefully than she had done moments before.

“Just how much of you has been replaced?” he asked rubbing his knuckles gently before flexing his fingers and reigniting his saber.

“Enough my dear, perhaps one day you could visit my labs and allow me to work on you, how about after this fight. I’m sure you won’t mind missing a few extremities here or there.” She giggled, tilting her head to the side and licked her lips with a sneer. “You do look tasty after all. So much imperfection, though, so much work that could be done.”

As Ophelia talked, her fingers moved gracefully by her side, and the dust, dirt and pebbles on the floor began to stir. “Rather tasty, might dine well tonight, though it is a shame you are from my clan as I’m not entirely sure I’d be allowed to do such pleasant things to you.”

Areticus raised an eyebrow and shook his head slightly. “You’re mad. Completely. I’ll finish this quickly so I can get as far away from your insanity as swiftly as possible.” He had noticed the movement of her hand as well as dirt that moved at her command and readied himself for another telekinetic attack. As Areticus moved in towards her, his eyes darted quickly for the source of her mischief, just as her hand shot up and lightning crackled forth stopping him in his tracks. Cascading bolts of electricity flashed across his form, forcing him to one knee.

“Guess I can just cook you alive and see what’s left to play with, little Knight.”

“I’m afraid you won’t find very much to play with in that,” Areticus’ voice traveled from behind her. Confused, Ophelia turned to see him in an en-garde stance some few meters away. She turned back and looked at the one at his knees to see him looking up at her before slowly fading away from the top down.

Ophelia gave a frustrated exhale, “An illusion. You’re going to be ‘that’ kind of opponent.”

“More than you realize,” he said with a growing smirk.

“Fine. You just earned yourself a one way ticket to my special list,” the bionic woman declared as she started to close in.

“Oh? Forgive me madam, I prefer my women organic.”

She gritted her teeth, “First I’m going to drain your blood, take out all of your organs and transplant them into an ewok’s hide!”

“How scathing,” he replied seemingly amused.

She came quick with an overhead downward slash while twisting her torso to add to it’s speed and strength. Areticus replied with a hopping sidestep that allowed her blade to brush past him. With his blade still facing her he widened his leg stance to perform a lunge. Ophelia rolled at a close angle and leaped at him with a horizontal arc at his exposed torso only to see him also roll on his back to get away from her. Keeping her momentum she pushed her legs further to come at another overhead strike; that too was avoided by another sidestep. Areticus repeated his stabbing riposte but Ophelia ducked her head this time and tackled forward with an upward slash. She moved past his body, turned, and gave a final downward slash that cut through his back. To her surprise however, the blade only went through him as if he were air. Ophelia cursed under her breath and cautiously looked around for another possible surprise attack.

The image of Areticus then turned and spoke, “You’re aggression keeps you open, pay heed to that.”

“I don’t need a lecture, and I don’t think you’re here to lecture either.”

“Correct,” the image said with a courteous nod, “I am here to warn you and to establish some rules. So unless you can find my true self, I suggest you listen.”

“You? Warning me? My sweet boy, you have no idea the kind of hole you are digging for yourself. But sure, explain yourself,” she said with an air of sarcasm.

“You recently adopted Felix Fulmen as your student. I am meeting with you to insure you don’t make him an abomination as you have made yourself and your ‘experiments’.”

“Oh how sweet. You care for your old friend. I’ll be sure to delete your ties in a patch update on your memory,” Ophelia remarked.

The image of Areticus’ eyebrows narrowed, he didn’t like her talking like that. “You took my pilot and my friend. If he adopts prosthetics for reasons aside from an actual injury, or designs some genetic monster under your guidance, you will be eliminated, fellow clansmen or not.”

“You’re pilot came to me voluntarily. What he decides to do will be his choice and his choice alone.”

“Incorrect. Influence and culture define the decisions and actions of individuals. Your views in bioethics are as in much chaos as your form with a saber.”

Another image of Areticus walked from her left peripheral towards it’s counterpart, igniting a saber and said, “Life, whether it be metallic or biological, comes from a grand scale of unification and molecular harmony.”

Once more another Areticus appeared at the right side of her peripheral and joined the others. “When you disrupt that order, life will devolve rather than evolve.”

The center of the three that stood before her, pointed it’s saber at her, with the others following suit, “I will not have that ideology infect my friend; physically or mentally.”

“Friend? Ha, it seems to me you’re more than friends. Does it rankle you that I took your lover away from you, that he’s embraced something that you don’t have the guts for little boy? It’s adorable after all that once you’ve had your training wheels taken off and been given a real lightsaber that you are able to speak so boldly to one who’s been doing this for years.” She had stopped paying full attention to Areticus and instead had her gaze looking down at his feet where the dust was settling from their engagement and his own movements.

“I’ll tell you what, if you beat me I’ll give a piece of him back to you, maybe a hand, a foot or if you are really lucky and since you seem to be pining for him I’ll give you his heart. I can construct a replacement for him anyway,” she sneered and snapped her attention back up in time to see a flash of anger cross the Knight’s face. As all three illusions moved in she threw out her hand once more then flicked it forcefully up. Dust, debris, and parts of whatever was lying around suddenly erupted upwards in a wave straight in front of the three versions of Areticus.

She moved in, raising her saber to block a diagonal thrust from the Areticus on the right and, in turn, took a piercing slice from the one in the middle; however, her resolve held and she managed to just parry a blow from the third before she lashed out with her foot, catching the last illusion just below the groin. As the Areticus, she attacked stumbled she heard the whistling of two sabers lunge towards her back. Awaiting for the impact, she drew back her own saber and then brought it down and around, crashing the metallic hilt into the jaw of her opponent. He stumbled and rocked to the side. As he did, she felt the lack of impact against her back and sneered, following up her assault with a swift kick to the midsection with her cybernetic leg, which sent the man before her sprawling into the dirt.

“I may not be the quickest observer but I can do a fair job at working things out when my opponent doesn't stop talking.” she rounded again to deliver another brutal kick but felt a burning sensation slide through her organic tissue and burst through the front.

“So can I stupid woman,” he muttered in her ear as the final illusion she had just whaled on vanished before her eyes. “Now you will not harm Felix. You will not corrupt Felix, or...why are you laughing?”

Ophelia, though in pain, had begun giggling away and shaking with mirth, as Areticus moved to disengage his saber from her body she turned allowing the blade to cut along and break out of her side. The smell of burnt flesh invaded their senses and she grinned, closing her eyes as if enjoying every moment of it.

“Pain is pleasure my dear, and now I've found you and now you shall break.” her eyes connected with his and something passed between them and then nothing. Ophelia pushed away clutching her side as Areticus looked at her dumbfounded momentarily as nothing seemed to happen, then a nagging doubt began to creep upon him.

“You’ve already done things to Felix haven’t you? That’s why you weren’t phased by what I said or the warnings. It’s too late to do anything for him. No that’s not right he would have told me.” he shook his head to clear the thoughts. “No no everything's fine. Felix is fine, I'm winning this.”

Ophelia sat herself down and kept her gaze fixed on him. “Nothing is fine my dear, Felix is right now undergoing surgery to make him more complete. You have failed. You’ve lost this match, what you stand for and him.”

“No, you lie you witch! But...wait maybe you don’t. What have you done! No no no no NO!” he dropped to his knees and thrust his head into his hands holding back exclamations of disbelief, fear entered his mind and regardless of how he thought it more doubts replaced whatever ones he rationalized. “Felix is fine...no he chose you over me. He wanted this, I've lost Felix. YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME!”

The snap hiss of Ophelia’s saber could be just heard under his yelling and shortly after a searing sensation filled his body starting from his right wrist down. As Areticus focused, he noticed his hand was simply gone; his lightsaber rolled along the floor. He then noticed Ophelia move to his left, stoop and pick something up, pocketing it within her cloak.

“My kindest regards boy, this will come in handy I am sure,” she smirked. “Now I'll bid my farewell.”

He sprung to his feet, attempted to pick up his saber with his off hand and as he did, it rolled away from him causing him to lose his balance and tumble to the ground. He looked up towards Ophelia and her outstretched hand. Pain wracked her face but she still had it in her to nudge his lightsaber out of reach each time he made a grab for it. Bored, or just unable to concentrate anymore she tugged with the Force and Areticus watched his saber fly into her hand.

“Cute, a duelist’s saber. I’ll hold onto this for now and have it passed along when we get home. If you get home. I’ll give my regards to Felix for you.” with that she simply turned and limped from the chamber. Arm clutching her side as the pain finally overtook the sensation of pleasure she had been feeling before.

“Oh so do I.” she muttered aloud as she walked away from him.

“So do I, what?” he muttered as he clutched his stump to his side using the force in an attempt to control the pain.

“Prefer my woman organic. Thanks for the Trophies kid, safe trip.”

Ophelia just closed her eyes and shook her head, “Oh my sweet naive little child. Allow me to show you the beauty that is the transhumanist evolution.” She opened out her left palm, the mechanical one, and the hilt of her saber flew to it. It wasn’t the Force that made the pull, rather it was a magnetic pull. The metal palm remained open without grip, yet the blade still retained it’s position. Her fingers, sharpened like dagger points, spread open around the hilt. “Notice,” she said, “The rose’s stem and it’s thorns.” Then the plated ring separating her hand and forearm began to rotate, allowing her mechanical hand and the saber in it spin. At first the fanning blade was spinning clockwise, then it changed to counter clockwise within an instant.

“Oh my,” one of the Areticus images said with a surprise.

Ophelia put her mechanical leg behind her with a slight bend and from out of it’s heel a puff of gas pressed out. It allowed her to accelerate towards her opponents at an unexpected speed. Along the way the blade of her saber hissed along the ground until she arched it in an upward strike towards the Areticus to her left. He responded in a side-step, but Ophelia’s blade began a counterclockwise rotation that split through the image like air. Knowing that was a fake and no threat, she focused on the other two. After a blade slash that missed her next target, the mechanical middle finger was aimed towards him. She let it release and the dart spun past him without show of injury; another illusion. She then focused heavily on the third even as the other two were switching back and forth between themselves. With her target locked, she ignored the two blade slashes coming from the identified fakes and released another set of pushing gas from her leg. The dashing leap made Areticus roll to the side, she immediately twisted her torso and pointed her saber blade at him. Then a sound of released gas came from her arm as the robotic hand extended forward from a metal rod stored within the arm. This extended her reach that caused the blade to barely go into his chest. Before she had been frustrated, now she was angry. She gave a small look around as the metal rod began to retract back into her arm and reconnect her hand.

Areticus could almost feel her anger, and keeping this up was beginning to drain him. The three fake images of him around her started to become transparent and fade. The real Areticus then came into view and rose from being on his knees.

“The one I shocked, that was you all along,” Ophelia said with a mean glare.

“Yes. It wasn’t an image fading, rather I was cloaking myself to appear as an ending illusion. Although it took considerable concentration to maintain both my concealment and my copies, I was able to observe your movements and techniques. I’ve figured you out.”

He waited for a response, but all he saw was her anger through eye contact. “No more tricks this time,” Areticus said wiping some of the sweat from his brow, “Let us dance.”

As Ophelia took her stance to fight, Areticus allowed his thoughts to blend with the Force. Although not in reality, time seemed to slow down for him and he allowed his thoughts to guide him: ‘Initial overhead strike accelerated by leg. Respond with feint and double left side step, one for the strike and the other for the spin. Traumatize the solar plexus; non mechanical. Backwards roll into prone to avoid finger projectile. Further side roll from accelerated and rod extended stab. Rod retraction prediction: 8 seconds. Rise from prone to seize rod and amputate mechanical from organic appendage. Shift to right side and weaken leg balance with step to the plantaris. Yank hair, break nose through saber hilt, and throw to the ground. Physical recovery: 3 weeks. Psychological recovery: 4 months.’

Ophelia’s eyes began to tear, as both a mixture of emotion and reaction to her nose breaking and the pain of her severed metal arm. Her expression was no longer angry, but empty in defeat. Areticus pointed the tip of his blade on the tab of her metal chin. She didn’t even react despite the few sparks that came from the plasma meeting cortosis. “Perfect,” Areticus said with a small smile, “I’ve broken your body and your spirit. Let us begin negotiations.”