Deep within the jungles of Karufr lies a massive temple built from stone blocks, hand-carved by the builders of the Massassi. The ancient race made its home on the planet after joining forces with Clan Taldryan, having been freed from stasis years ago. Now, an entire civilization exists, hidden far from the prying eyes of Karufr's citizenry. As a Jedi, you are one of the few to have access to their secret base.

You step onto the temple grounds and watch the fearsome warriors train in small regiments with their crude weapons. The entire temple is in a state of anticipation as the Massassi know they will soon be called on once more to aid the Dark Jedi of Taldryan in battle. The temple is shaped like a giant pyramid, towering into the sky, and serves as a backdrop to the training ground.

The War Chief notices you and gestures you forward. He clears the area around you with a bellowing command, and the Massassi warriors present form a wide circle with you at the center. A moment later, you realize you're not the only Jedi to visit the temple—the crowd parts slightly to allow the newcomer to enter the ring. The gathered Massassi holler in good cheer. They want to see a fight.

The Chief raises his weapon to the sky and barks a command. The Massassi begin to stamp their feet against the ground, creating a loud, steady beat that seems to get your blood pumping. With little choice left, you lock eyes with your opponent and ready yourself for a fight.

Mactire stood in the center of the circle, scanning the faces of the Massassi. Their presence here in the temple seemed more energetic than usual. The room was dimly lit with torches, their shadows danced across the ground and the stone wall. The human felt at peace while standing there listening to the tribal rhythm. Slightly letting down his defences, Mactire slowly went through a couple of motions, following the kata of his chosen martial form. Slowly he lifted his left leg while closing his eyes, feeling the air around him he thrust his leg fast and hard to the right. Using the motion he kicked again, this time with his right leg. Before his leg could touch the ground he leapt slightly into the air, allowing his left leg to show a final kick, then landed smiling lightly. The Massassi cheered at the show, stomping their feet faster chanting.

As Mactire’s eyes slowly opened, a figure pushed through the crowd and emerged into the center of the circle. The Mystic studied the newcomer, noting her pale skin and striking red hair. Her blue eyes sought his own out, piercing them with a fiery determination. The woman obviously favoured function over style with her clothing, utilising Warhost stealth operations gear. The blaster slung in a holster on her side, and the knife clipped to her belt marked her out as a professional.

She grinned, looking at him. “Well, it took you long enough to get here. I’ve been waiting for you to show up.” the red-haired woman languidly stretched as she addressed Mactire.

Mactire rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck from side to side, relying on the movements that usually intimidated his opponents. “So, do I get a name for you, kiddo?” the Dakhani’s voice rumbled, “Or do at least tell me why you’re here looking for me.”

Inyri smirked, her eyes full of mirth “Oh, I’m just here to fight you,” The Hunter moved slightly, lowering her center of gravity. “I’m here to see which one of us is the better operative, nothing more.”

Slowly sliding his right foot back, Mactire calculated the first attack in his head. Before he could strike, Inyri charged forward like a rampaging Rancor, her body low to the ground. The Mystic quickly lashed out with his right leg, connecting with her left shoulder. Inyri staggered to left from the blow, stopping her in her tracks.

Moving quickly, Mactire stepped forward. As the Hunter reached out to grab him, he spun to the right and moved backwards slowly keeping his distance. Judging one in combat was always tricky, especially when this fight was more for the War Chief and the Massassi’s entertainment than anything else.

Inyri decided that she would continue to be aggressive, as she followed up the attempted grapple. The Hunter had drawn her knife and brandished it quite expertly. The razor edge slashed towards Mactire as he skipped backwards, trying to avoid the blade. The Mystic was unsuccessful, as Inyri sliced through flesh and cut a groove along his arm.

Inyri spun back around to face her opponent, before flicking her combat knife back around to face towards her and slid it back into its sheath at the small of her back. Mactire stared at her and arched an eyebrow at this move, even the pain was falling to the side in the face of confusion. Inyri stepped backwards, tucking her elbows in and bringing her hands up to just under chin level, and began to circle with her opponent.

Regaining his composure, Mactire hunched down and began to step side to side while they circled one another, and the crowd began to grow more urging in their cheering. Blood had been drawn and they wanted to see more, but Inyri wasn’t going to make the next move if she could help it. And so, her opponent indulged her, or so it seemed as he made several twists with his upper body, fists drawn back as if to strike, but only to stop at the last moment from actually throwing a punch.

“They’re going to get violent if they don’t see more action.” Mactire said with a smirk.

“I’m going to get violent if you don’t shut up and try to hit me.” Inyri replied, but did not give any facial expression in reply.

“You’re confident, that’s good. But just how much is that going to help you here?” Mactire asked as he threw another feint.

Inyri’s eyes just narrowed in response, and the next feint was slower. The Mystic suddenly realized his reflexes weren’t cooperating all of the sudden, but just as fast as it was starting to fade, Inyri struck.

Her first move was to step in and slam her left fist straight into her opponent’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. As he wheezed in response, Inyri gripped his right wrist with her left hand and slammed her right elbow into the side of his head, and then finished with a hip throw, knocking him to the ground before stepping backwards.

The crowd cheered once more in approval as Mactire got up, but this time, he was not empty handed, and his blue lightsaber blade snapped to life. He took up a two handed grip and rolled his head once more, taking a deep breath before staring Inyri down.

“Now the fun really begins. And I know I’ve got you now.” He said, stepping towards her with the humming blue blade at the ready. Inyri stepped backwards once more and drew her pistol, immediately bringing it up to the ready position.

Now the cheering really intensified, with the prospect of a great deal of blood being spilled, and even the possibility of death now even greater. But it was just background noise to Inyri, a distraction. The real focus was the man with the lightsaber staring her down.