When you are traversing the wild and untouched landscapes of the savannah, just remind yourself that you are never the apex predator. The vast and desolate area of sand, rocks, dead and ancient trees are all the same blood-orange color for a simple reason: to hide your worst nightmare from your sight, the Akul. A large, bipedal and orange furred mammal, the Akul are the top predators that hunt all sorts of bovine, dog, hooved and giant mammals. Using their extraordinary sense of smell, they can trace your scent from days long past and track you down without mercy.

Throughout the Savannah, tall and wispy Turu-grass stretches out into long ranging fields. Watering holes are sparse and spread thin, and the terrain offers little safety from the blazing sun that hangs overhead. When the sun retreats and gives way to moonlight, the Savannah becomes almost chill, but the night is dark and full of wild creatures. In the Savannah, it’s hunt or be hunted.

"I presume this is a joke," the Combat Master of the Brotherhood stated flatly as he looked up from the datapad.

The boarding ramp of the shuttle provided some shelter from the setting sun overhead, but not enough as its scorching rays still caused the Umbaran to squint in discomfort. Across from him stood Adalinde. She was one of the most steadfast and loyal Inquisitors Atra had met within the Voice's organization and she reported directly to him. Well, most of the time she did.

"When 'ave I been one to joke?" Adalinde questioned with a haughty scoff.

The point she made was true enough and the Combat Master acquiesced with a slight tilt of his head and a quickly raised eyebrow. "There's a first time for everything," he commented. Atra raised his right hand to his lips, resting the knuckle of his index finger lightly against them as his grey-gold gaze shifted towards the savannah. His armor seemed all the heavier — despite its lightweight design — as he watched the shimmering haze of the heat rising from the barren patches of dirt that were free of the Turu-grass that stretched in almost endless fields.

Adalinde shifted impatiently beside him, her crimson hair almost matching the blood-like, orange tones of the savannah around them. "Zis Rrogon claims a newfound loyalty to ze Inquisitorius," she continued, as if the words Atra had just read weren't quite enough to drive the point home. "Apparently, 'e was presented wiz an impossible choice while on ze Godless Matron."

"I had nothing to do with that," Atra was quick to point out. The Inquisitor merely pursed her lips and stared at him. "I was occupied with the Herald and her First Mate," he elaborated before muttering under his breath, "not in the fun way either."

The Combat Master allowed himself a sigh, adjusting the strips of white fabric wrapped around his right forearm. The tapestry of burns working up the arm stood out in stark contrast to the near deathly pallor of his pale skin. "The Voice doesn't trust his supposed loyalty either," Atra said as he handed the datapad back to Adalinde. "If this Agrona's warrior pride is anything like other Kaleesh..." he explained aloud before trailing off. Again, Atra sighed as he adjusted the strands of his segmented cloak. "Try to be here when I get back," he remarked over his shoulder as he positioned himself at the end of the ramp.

"Night is falling," the woman pointed out with a smirk tugging at her lips and a mocking tone. "I zink you should be more focused on trying to make it back at all."

Atra scoffed and raised a hand to his chest as if he had been wounded. "Ada... you do care!"

Adalinde's expression fell into a scowl with remarkable speed. She spun about and marched back into the shuttle, her boots thumping solidly on the durasteel panels and fading with distance. The Umbaran allowed himself a grin as his focus returned to the task at hand. Rrogon Skar Agrona, a Battlemaster within the ranks of Arcona, awaited contact. At the same time, the sun was sinking lower upon the horizon and as Atra's need to shield his eyes waned, so too did the relative safety found in the warmth of the sunlight. He allowed his cloak to wrap tighter around him as the first imagined chill of the coming night crawled up his spine.

The Combat Master knew he wouldn't be the only hunter looking for prey. That thought was ever present in the forefront of his mind as Atra raised his wrist-link and confirmed the rendezvous coordinates. Working in the unknown wasn't something the Combat Master was ever really fond of. In fact, he despised it. Knowledge was power and he preferred having it. Marick Tyris seemed to have a similar philosophy since taking on the role of Voice. While Atra knew he was being sent to meet and evaluate a new Inquisitor, it was the name of that individual which had been withheld until he had made landfall. There was nothing to be done about it after the fact. The Combat Master would merely perform his role within the Brotherhood as he so often did. He was ever the necessary evil.

Atra focused as best he could on the ebb and flow of the Force around him. He had to concentrate to maintain that connection, but it was necessary. The Akul that dominated Shili's savannah would not think twice about taking on the Combat Master. They were the apex predators of the territory and he was merely an intruder within their domain. At least through the Living Force he would sense their presence. That connection was difficult for him, and something that could prove far too draining if he merely threw himself into the task entirely. Instead, he slipped in and out of focus. Almost like a sonar ping, he would pause and scan his surroundings before continuing on.

It was his senses that Atra focused on as he approached where he was to meet with Skar. In order to facilitate that, the Combat Master had forgone his usual reliance on concealing his presence within the Force. The waiting Battlemaster was expecting an Inquisitor after all, so what benefit was there to be in hiding the truth of things? Still, not everything needed to be freely offered up. Atra ensured his hood was raised, offering a shroud to disguise his features in the continually dimming light.

The Combat Master arrived at the clearing just as the sun was finally setting completely, evening giving way to dusk. The large Kaleesh was already there, seated over a quietly crackling fire. A quick glance around them told the Umbaran that Skar had also arrived on foot. A snarl and grunt brought Atra's focus back towards the man who would soon be his opponent. Of course, the Battlemaster didn't know that quite yet. It was only the natural course of events though. How else was the Combat Master to determine the depths of the blue-robed warrior's resolve if not by pushing him to his limits?

A smirk tugged at the edge of Atra's lips but he managed to maintain his cold and emotionless visage. He recognized the trappings with which Skar adorned himself. There had been a time that Atra had also ranked among the Obelisk order, long before they were squashed under the Grand Master's decree.

"Now what?" Rrogon growled from across the clearing. He was on edge, which made sense. The Kaleesh probably wanted to be there about as much as Atra. Which wasn't much, rest assured. "Aren't you my contact? Why else would you be here?"

"Agrona," the Combat Master spoke with a carefully even voice, despite the soft lilt of his accent. "Your loyalty to Arcona is well known. What reason do I have to believe that has changed?"

An anger filled growl rumbled deep within Skar's throat as he hunched over. The firelight shifted along the features of his matte black Huk mask and his robes in a way that somehow managed to enhance the threatening stance. "Your kind threatened my wife," the Battlemaster practically wheezed out between clenched teeth.

"Only your wife?" Atra mused in response, tilting his head curiously as he strode closer to the fire.

"I've lost enough family," Skar answered flatly. "For her, I obey."

Atra raised his right hand and stroked his goatee in contemplation. The rage simmering just under the surface of the reptilian warrior was obvious, even without tapping into the Force. That was good. It could be set alight. "Ah yes, the Barabel. Zakath. A symptom of the cancer plaguing the Brotherhood."

The Combat Master waited, his quick mind already piecing together the puzzle that was his opponent. He needn't be a master of manipulation to get the reaction he desired. Atra only needed to say the right name. That much Atra had surmised during his time observing Arcona. "Marick told me just how pathetic he looked, right before Zakath lost his head."

Atra's eyes narrowed with focus just as Skar's crimson eyes widened behind his bone mask. The button, so to speak, had certainly been pushed. "Marick will die by my hand," the Kaleesh roared just as he lept across the fire and charged towards Atra. Revenge had consumed Skar so completely that it was still a reliable trigger which could be exploited by others, as the Combat Master had just demonstrated. Still, there was a quality to Skar's advance that was unexpected. He lacked the mindless rage the Combat Master had been looking for. Instead, all that emotion seemed to be channeled into a focus that was all-consuming, yet quiet. Now that Skar was engaged, there was only the battle. Atra could respect that drive, in a way. It was entirely foolish, don't get that wrong, but respectable in its simplicity. For the Juggernaut Skar had fashioned himself to be, there was only death: for him or for his foe.

"Now that just doesn't sound like the kind of thing a loyal little soldier would say," Atra remarked, taking a step back in preparation for his opponent's approach. Skar tapped into the Force, bending it to his will and forcing it to coalesce in his palm just as the distance between him and the Combat Master shortened. He dug his clawed feet into the dirt, causing him to skid several feet before he thrust his palm downward. Atra grimaced and threw up his right arm defensively, his stance already widened in an attempt to hold his ground.

The concussion of Force energy burst outward from the point of contact, sending Atra tumbling back and away from the Battlemaster. The Umbaran grunted as the wind was knocked from his lungs, rolling several times before he was able to pull himself back up onto one knee. Skar allowed himself a shaky breath, focusing on maintaining control, lest he lose himself to the emotions that sought to claim his resolve. At some level, he recognized that he was playing into the Inquisitor's wishes, but that didn't matter much when placed next to the opportunity of getting his hands on Marick. The pathway to that goal lay through the man who had come to confront him in the middle of the savannah.

With the sun fully set and the half-crescent moon taking its place in the sky, what warmth there had been quickly faded into the night air. It wasn't quite enough to leave the pair of men chilled, but they weren't in a position to comment on the weather just yet. Atra quickly licked his lips and rolled his head from side to side. A series of cracks ran through his neck before he took a focusing breath and rose to his full height. "Let's see what we got, eh? Beat me and you just might get your shot at revenge," the Combat Master declared. His fingers wrapped around the dark alloy of his lightsaber at his hip before pulling it free of its clip. He toggled the activator switch and stood almost casually as the overcharged blade snap-hissed to life. The cerulean tip was already carving a line through the dirt as it reached its full length and energy crackled along its form. "Otherwise, you will fall in line."

Skar's gaze flit between the lightsaber in the Combat Master's hand and his hooded face. The Kaleesh's clawed fingers worked open and closed before he went for his own weapon. The newly crafted lightsaber wasn't straight nor was it curved like some users of Makashi would prefer. Instead, it was oddly disjointed near the base before culminating in a sharp blade. Not too unlike Zakath's own lightsaber in that regard. The sapphire blade sprang to life and added its own hum to the sound of the Combat Master's weapon.

Atra's focus remained dialed in on Skar, attempting to perceive each and every subtle shift before him. He's still letting me dictate the terms, Atra thought to himself. It wasn't exactly the brightest of tactics. Then again, the Combat Master had yet to see anything that hinted towards an intellect worth being concerned over. The Kaleesh seemed to be little more than a hulking weapon waiting to be pointed at a target. Just as you were, once upon a time, the Combat Master told himself.

A sudden warning rippled through the Force and tingled up Atra's spine, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the moment. Not that he had been distracted, but it was a jarring sensation nonetheless. Skar was once more relying on his training with telekinetics to bring an attack upon Atra. The Kaleesh had reached back and willed the Force to take on an almost tangible state, condensed into a blunt force that he swung towards the Combat Master. Atra took two pivoting steps forward, weaving around the slow-moving attack and bringing himself into closer range. He tapped into the reservoir at his core, letting the dark depths wash over him like the released torrent from a dam. Hot and cold surged through the Combat Master in equal parts, a duality of sensations that couldn't be ignored. He channeled the flow of that power into his fist and thrust his free hand forward. The Force concussed between them, knocking the wind from Skar's lungs and sending him staggering back several steps before he steeled himself once more.

The method of attack had been a message from Atra to Skar. A smarter combatant would recognize that the Umbaran had just met strength with strength. It meant two could play that game. Still, Rrogon reacted quickly and demonstrated a deft control of his body that would make things interesting for Atra. The Combat Master would have to play smart, not just strong and fast, in order to come out on top over the war machine he stood against.

Rolling his shoulders one at a time, he felt the tension slowly release from his muscles. Clenching his teeth, he looked at the Umbaran who stood impassively as he met his own gaze. The two Juggernaut’s simply stared at each other for several long seconds. Atra was a strong opponent to face and the Kaleesh knew this, he knew that raw power alone would win this fight and that's why he had brought a few toys along with him to even the playing field.

Hours before Atra had landed on the planet the Sith had set of both of his Incendiary land mines around the camp, just in case this meeting had went south. Now they would be invaluable to this fight. If the Kaleesh could get the man close enough to set them off it might be enough to get the killing blow on the Dark Jedi.

But the trouble was getting him there. Furrowing his brow, the Kaleesh charged forward with a snarl, the sapphire blade humming in the still air of the dimming night sky. Leaping up into the air several feet he brought the blade down with his full might on the Umbaran, who brought his own saber to block the heavy handed strike.

Atra’s arms bulked slightly as the weight of the Kaleesh slammed into him, but he soon recovered. Drawing from the Force to give him the strength he needed to push the Sith off of him, but he had to step back and bring his blade up once more as Skar did not give him time to recover.

The Sith wasted no time in hammering into the Dark Jedi’s defences, seeing for himself what a high ranking Inquisitor had to offer him. His sapphire blade weaved a deadly net of light in the darkness; each attack was made to kill or maim. Rrogon pushed Atra back step by step, it was slow work but no matter where the Kaleesh striked the Umbaran’s blade was there to meet his own.

It never struck back and this unsettled the Kaleesh slightly. Why wasn't the man fighting back? Was there something he was hiding, some trick up his sleeve? Every chance he got, the Sith looked around for some unseen foe he had not picked up on when Atra had first stepped into the clearing. He could find nothing lurking in the shadows but that did not mean there wasn't something there.

Growling, Rrogon reached out into the Force and pulled Atra tworded him with a quick motion of his hand. While the Umbaran was tugged off his feet slightly he quickly regained his footing, but it was enough of an opening the Sith needed. Rushing forward the Kallesh slammed his mask down on the bridge of the Inquisitors nose sending him reeling back in pain for a split second.

Sweeping his leg out, the Sith struck the Dark Jedi’s knee cap, drawing on the Force to fuel his rage. A loud crack was heard as his foot collided with his opponent's leg, causing him to stagger and fall to one knee to regain his balance.

Reaching up to strike the man's temple with the flat of his palm he was felt an oppressive weight on his mind telling to not to and for a split second he almost listened to it but he soon shock the influence and whent to strike the man down but found that he had rolled away from the Sith and regained his footing. Blood was dripping down his face from a large cut on just on the top of his nose from the head but he had received moments before.

“Ill admit you got some moves Rrogon but they will never be enough to kill Marick with and we both know that.” Spoke the Umbaran with perfect sincerity in his voice. In his mind the Kaleesh knew he was right but this did not matter he had loss to much to Marick and the Inquisition to back down from his quest just because he was not strong enough to face one man and beat him.

No, no matter the cost no matter the sacrifice he would find Marick and kill him even if it meant ending his own life in the process. He would see that man dead one day, and he was not alone Rrogon knew others would fight with him and some of them were powerful in their own rights.

But those thoughts were needed for another time as his gaze fell back on the Umbaran. “I matters not if i can kill him Atra only that he sees justice for killing my family before I die and for that I will go to any lengths to find and kill him.”

“A foolish mission for a foolish man. You are only a blunt object wielded by those above you, a savage animal waiting to be let loose on their enemies. That will never change no matter where you go Kaleesh.” Snapped Atra as he looked at the Sith.

“Then so be it.” Growled Skar as he reached behind him and grabbed the thermal imploder and primed it before throwing it at the Umbaran's feet

Atra's reaction to the thermal imploder was as swift as the device was deadly. He reached out with his right hand, still grasping his saber's hilt but partially open with two fingers extended. His power lashed out like a lasso and raised the cylinder into the air to hover for a half second before it rocketed back towards the surprised Kaleesh — warnings of danger surging through the Force in Skar's mind. Clearly it hadn't been the most enlightened of plans for Skar to enact and Atra found himself wondering for a moment whether it had even been thought through.

The blinking red light on the canister ceased just as the tell-tale sound of the device triggered. It was hard to describe as anything other than a rippling suction, coming inward before bursting outward with blinding light and lethal fury. Skar took the brunt of it, his body tossed through the air as it was jettisoned from the source of the destruction, the force somewhat subdued due to his initial attempt to put space between him and his own ordinance.

On the other hand, Atra had hardly been in the most protected of positions. The Umbaran raised his arms defensively while deactivating his saber, mostly to protect from any shrapnel as the bits of stone in the dirt turned to fragmented shards that cut remorselessly through his exposed flesh and the fabric of his clothing. Atra couldn't keep from gasping in pain from his dislocated knee and the newfound streaks of blood seeping from the razor thin gashes. Still, this — at least — he could handle.

The Combat Master threw his mind into the depths of the Force contained within him. He felt a jolt as he sank beneath the frigid surface, the caress of the Dark Side, but he pushed further. Atra closed his eyes and focused on silencing his nerves. The pangs that had ceaselessly pulsed from his knee faded into the background, allowing him to reach down and lock his leg into place while his other hand came in from the side. The Combat Master grunted with effort as he forced the joint back into its socket. The pain was exquisite as he dropped his internal control, allowing the fire scorching through his nervous system to register at last.

Pain was good. Pain meant you were still alive.

Atra wasn't the only combatant recovering though. Skar let out a howl of pain while spasming on the ground. Twirling strands of smoke raised from his semi-scorched body, the fabric on his left side burnt and mangled along with his scaled flesh. Each movement tugged on what fabric remained and brought new pangs as it pulled on the wounds. His bone mask was cracked from the initial shock wave, causing Skar to let it fall to the ground and exposing his reptilian features. He used the pain, the anger, and willed the cells of his body to accelerate their healing. Not enough to nullify his wounds but enough to make him able to function without complete distraction.

In the end, the Combat Master was the first back to his feet. His stance was uneasy as he was wary to put weight on his knee, not quite ready to test its resilience. His grey-gold eyes scanned the clearing with a focus on two very different things. First, there was the gnawing suspicion that if Skar was willing to use one explosive then he'd be willing to use more. He hoped he might catch sight of even a hint of more. Second, they weren't exactly being quiet. After night had fallen... on Shili. The last thing they needed was a visit from an Akul.

And yet, it seemed, that was exactly what they were in for.

In the quiet of the night, beyond Skar's rumbling, the Combat Master heard the faintest of roars in the distance. A hunting cry. That was definitely something to be filed away under useful information. "Are you really so stupid?" Atra began as he reached up to pull down his hood. The Umbaran flared his nostrils for a moment, irritated by a droplet of crimson blood that hung from the tip before wiping it away. "You say it matters not if you kill him, only that you will see justice by finding and killing him? Do you even hear yourself?"

Skar growled again, rising to his clawed feet and affixing the other man with his predatory glare. "You mock my purpose?!"

"No, just your intelligence." Atra's lightsaber crackled to life once more, the surging cerulean blade pointed directly at the Kaleesh.

Skar quickly took stock of his location, trying to triangulate where he stood with the mines he had buried earlier. The act didn't go unnoticed by the Combat Master but he suspected it was a similar interest in ensuring no predators were about to surface. Skar's eyes narrowed, putting faith in the markers he had left to remind himself, and advanced on the Umbaran once more. His sapphire blade added to the glow from the nearby fire once more and he was upon Atra in short order.

The Combat Master's dark hair clung in clumps to his forehead, perspiration causing it to stick alongside patches of dirt, but his endurance was far from spent just yet. He paced himself carefully, as he always did in combat, and pivoted away from the oncoming swings of Skar's aggressive attacks. He had recognized the familiar stances and strikes almost immediately upon their initial encounter. It seemed they both favored the tenants of Djem So, however it appeared that the Kaleesh was far more of a traditionalist when it came to its application. There was nothing wrong with that, but it made his moves even more predictable in Atra's perception.

Unfortunately, the Umbaran still had to favor his right leg and that made him predictable as well. He could risk putting the entirety of his weight and momentum on the previously injured knee of his left leg, but only as a last resort. Skar growled and interrupted Atra's thoughts, bringing in a powerful overhead slash which required the Combat Master to hop back, bouncing on his right foot. The Kaleesh pressed the momentary advantage, carrying his momentum into an advancing spin and horizontal slash. On his current path, Atra wasn't in a stance to meet the attack, let alone avoid it. He needed to shift quickly and kicked off the ground with his left leg to do so.

As the Combat Master had expected, pain shot up from the weakened joint and set his nerves on fire. He grimaced but still managed to just avoid the streaking blade of his opponent, stumbling slightly as he shifted his weight back onto his right leg. Again, Atra found himself having to fight smarter in order to gain the advantage. Biting his lower lip, using the pain to counteract that from his knee, the Umbaran dropped into a crouch with his weight evenly distributed. He willed the Force into the coiled muscles of his legs and pushed them beyond their limitations.

Suddenly, there was a considerable distance between Atra and Skar as he arced through the air, disengaged his weapon, and landed across the clearing from the Kaleesh. The landing was far from graceful and thankfully mine free, not that he knew for sure there were any. Undeterred from what would be surely a sore and bruised tailbone in the near future, Atra continued with his plan as the Force quickly coalesced in his palm and he thrust outward. The attack, however, was not meant for Skar. The nearby fire all but exploded as the invisible force concussed against it. The small sticks and remaining logs scattered across the clearing to either be snuffed out amongst the dirt or to quietly fade into bright, angry embers and miniscule flicks of flame.

Atra allowed himself a smirk as he turned and rushed from the clearing into the Turu-grass, pushing through the ache of his joint that seemed to be easing over time. Skar's slit pupils dilated as he growled and gave chase to the Combat Master. "Coward," he bellowed. The Kaleesh couldn't rely on the pale light of the night sky like he could the fire, but his species was one of hunters. The sensory organs just under his eyes allowed him to find his prey, tracking the thermal energy radiating off the Umbaran.

While the initial distance between them was wide enough to give Atra a fair lead, it was clear the Kaleesh was faster with that distance shrinking alongside each bounding stride. This time it was Skar's turn to doubt the intelligence of his opponent. How could the Combat Master hope to escape a natural predatory species — such as the Kaleesh — in the dark?

Then Atra's heat signature faded away into the night's chill air.

The Turu-grass, tall enough to hide predators and prey alike, also gave no hint of the Umbaran's whereabouts. Once more relying on his training, Atra had turned his command of the Force inward and regulated his body heat to match his surroundings. It was a clever move, and not exactly one based on his opponent. Men and beasts both hunted the night, after all.

Skar snarled and waved his saber back and forth along his path. The blade-tip carve through the grass without effort, lopping off large groupings at a time. "No honor and no pride, just like Marick," Agrona managed as his gaze flit about. "Nothing will stop me! Not the Inquisitors, not you, and certainly not that traitor to Arcona!" The Kaleesh's nostrils flared as he took in a shuddering breath, turning in a circle as he searched for his target. "I will have vengeance," he added with a more level tone.

Not far off, Atra remained prone and carefully controlled. His focus had to remain on keeping his breathing even and his body temperature down. It wasn't an entirely pleasant experience but a necessary one. It was becoming increasingly clear that only one of the fighters was as aware as they needed to be of their surroundings. Word to the wise when in the kingdom of an apex predator and you're not that predator: do try and keep quiet.

The Turu-grass shifted nearby, almost causing Atra to jump in surprise. Instead, he became even more still as he held his breath. With his Umbaran eyes he could see easily enough and what he saw was a large mass of muscle, fangs, and claws. Yeah, the Combat Master had no interest in pulling the pin on that grenade. Others could manage it just fine on their own. Which was exactly what the Kaleesh was about to do.

To his credit, Skar was doing a fair job of keeping his head on a swivel. His focus was ever-shifting in his hunt for Atra. When he started picking up a thermal presence once more, standing out amongst the grass, he was certain he had finally happened upon the Combat Master. Agrona readied himself to charge but had to pause instead, planting his clawed feet wide and deep into the dirt as the newly discovered form leapt towards him. It was suddenly large, no longer crouched in an effort to hide itself, and most definitely not Atra.

The Akul was on Skar with a hungry roar. It forced the warrior back, but managed to catch a patch of fabric in its powerful jaws. The Kaleesh heard the tearing but paid it no mind, repositioning himself as he glanced back to see the Akul whipping its head side to side — its killing tactic — only to suddenly realize it wasn't its prey it had caught. The blue cloth still hung from its fangs as the beast went for its prey again.

Skar was ready for the attack this time. He held his lightsaber extended out in front of him and he stepped into the creature's leap while thrusting. The blade seared through flesh and bone without effort, piercing through the open jaw of the Akul before angling into a side swipe as Skar stepped out of the beast's path. The Kaleesh's chest heaved, his nostrils filling with the smell of singed fur and flesh, but he didn't have time to feel either pride in his kill or fatigue from the battle. He still had to find the Combat Master.

That's when the Force blared like a klaxon within his thoughts, but he wasn't in a position to react as he had before. He felt sharp fangs digging into his right shoulder and side before he crashed face first into the dirt and grass. The Akul pressed its weight in upon him, priming to to take a sizeable chunk out of Skar. A sudden snap-hiss gave both parties pause for the single heartbeat before a crackling blade carved through the beast's head... and Skar's arm.

The pain could only be described as exquisite. It was a burning cold coupled with the sudden sense of loss. His entire arm hurt, though at some level he knew there was no arm left to be hurting. It sent a shock through his system that fought to send him into the embrace of unconsciousness. As Agrona bellowed, writhing on the ground, Atra's gaze shifted around him once more. He was almost panting as his jaw worked open and closed, his muscles burning and a migraine pounding at his brain. The Combat Master was both physically and mentally exhausted. Still, he used what effort he could to sink his awareness into the Force once more.

His senses weren't quite what they were. He could feel the flow of the Living Force like ghostly strands slipping through his fleeting grasp, and yet he could still get somewhat of a feel of things. He let out a long breath, reasonably sure there was nothing else nearby. His grey-gold eyes shifted to the Kaleesh, a look of profound disappointment on his features. "You'd think..." he began before taking a shuddering breath of air. "You'd have learned to be... quiet."

Atra allowed himself to drop onto one knee, bringing all of his weight into a punch that connected hard with Skar's jaw. The sudden jolt, coupled with the pain of his severed limb, finally proved too much for the warrior and he was out like a light. The Umbaran put his weight onto the Kaleesh's prone form, half-turned to see the man's arm lying to the side while dark strands of blood seeped from the bite in his shoulder. Atra's chest rose and fell with another heavy sigh. He raised his left arm up, opening and closing his hand. The Umbaran could almost hear the servos and gears working beneath the synthflesh of his cybernetic arm.

Just like you used to be, he told himself again as he turned his gaze back towards Skar. Atra toggled his wristlink and waited to hear Adalinde's acknowledgement before speaking. "Gonna need a pick up at the rendezvous coordinates," he managed before groaning and leaning his head back.

---

Atra rubbed the bridge of his nose, a strip of cloth having been placed over the cut Skar had given him, while staring at the medical equipment. Skar had been heavily sedated the moment he had been brought on board. It was a two-fold measure designed to keep him both subdued and stable until he could be brought to a proper medical facility.

"I don't see why 'e is alive," Adalinde muttered from beside the Combat Master.

"It wasn't necessary to do otherwise," he replied. The Umbaran turned away from the medical bed and found a nearby chair to offer his knee some respite. He was a large man, after all, and he had done his body no favors on Shili.

The female Inquisitor turned with a scowl, her red hair falling even more heavily over her face in the process. "'e is an enemy," Adalinde intoned.

"He is a tool," Atra countered before pressing his head back against the durasteel wall of the shuttle. Closing his eyes the Combat Master chose his next words carefully, still tired and in need of rest. "Frankly, he's more a threat to his allies than the Brotherhood right now."

"So you return 'im to ze enemy?"

"I return him to Atyiru," Atra clarified. "Then see what comes of it."

Still quite visibly displeased with the scenario, Adalinde offered up an exasperated sigh before acquiescing. "Sometimes I wonder just what side you are on," she pondered aloud.

Atra's lips shifted back and forth before settling into a frown, his eyes still closed. "I stand for the Brotherhood... as always."

Seemingly appeased, for the time being, Adalinde stole one last glance at Agrona's vitals before making her leave. Atra could feel the hum of the shuttle's engines through both the floor and the wall, seated as he was. It was far from a comfortable spot but he didn't care. The fight had been exhausting but at least it had been informative. Maybe the Combat Master wouldn't be the only one to learn something from it.

The Umbaran’s eyes widened as the small cylinder flew at his feet. The Juggernaut rolled away from the Imploder before it went off in a brilliant explosion that shook the ground, setting fire to the surrounding grass. It quickly began to burn out of control, bathing the area in flickering light just prior to the second detonation, which caused Skar to stagger back a few steps.

Atra slowly got to his feet. There were several burns all across his armour, and the look that he gave the Kaleesh was laced with anger and slight pain from the burns.

“I may be a blunt weapon for those to wield, Atra, but that does not mean that I am incapable of choosing for myself,” he said, stepping forward once more, his grip tightening on his lightsaber. “And I chose to save those that I love, whatever the cost… even if it means ripping the life out of you, Marick, and Pravus.”

The Umbaran said nothing as he fostered a brief glare at the Sith. Rrogon let out a howl and charged forward, reaching into himself to pull strength from the Dark Side, its power causing him to move faster and to push his boundaries more than his physical restraints would have allowed him under typical circumstance. He could feel it's power coasting through his very being; fire flared through his body as the Force pulsed through him, raging like the wild fire burning around the two duelists. The juggernauts engaged in their duel once more, the Kaleesh’s ferocity clashing against the impassive wall that was Atra’s lightsaber.

As the two clashed, Rrogon could see the difference in Atra’s fighting style in comparison to his own. Whereas Skar employed a certain flare to his tactics, using all he had learning in the fighting pits of Nar Shaddaa, the Umbaran used no such flare and moved very little, only to block when necessary. There was purpose, though, when he did move; the man was no pushover when it came to fighting.

This fight was going to last for a long time if neither opponent conceded. Skar, however, had no intention of giving in to this Inquisitor; Not now, not ever.

Thrusting his hand forward, the Kaleesh lashed out with the Force once again, and struck the Umbaran with all the telekinetic might he could muster, right into his gut, but the man did not move an inch; he simply emitted a wheeze from the impact.

Rrogon’s eyes widened in surprise, and in that moment, the Inquisitor saw his opening and lashed out, slicing the emitter on the his opponent’s lightsaber. Dropping the now useless lightsaber, the Sith took several steps back in shock, before the Umbaran held his lightsaber to the alien's neck.

“You lose Rrogon. This fight has shown me what you truly are: an unruly, untrustworthy traitor to both the Inquisitorius, and to Arcona. However, you have your talents, and we may still have need for your fighting skills in the days to come.”

Rrogon said nothing for several seconds before growling under his breath. “Very well Atra. You know well that I only fight to protect those I love. If that means working with you and your men, then so be it. But know that one day, there will come a time when the Inquisitors will fall, and we will all pay for what we have done.”

Atra smirked at the claim before his face resumed its passive look. “We will see, Sith. There are many things in the world that are left up to the fickle hands of fate and destiny. Who is to say that we will lose? Who is to say that Arcona and the rebels will win? Such things are clouded and unknown to all - even Pravus.” Putting away his lightsaber, the Umbaran gave one last, long glance to the Kaleesh before spinning on his heel and walking back the same way he came, the glow of the fires around him flickering and reflecting off of his armour. He had claimed his victory.