Holovids have replayed the conclusion of the Grand Master’s Invitational Tournament where Turel Sorenn and Timeros Ceasus Entar Arconae battled within the remains of the Dark Hall.

Echoes of the past haunt the now desolate graveyard of a planet. 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 destructive power a sole individual unleashed on an entire system.

Once, Antei had served as the seat of the Dark Jedi Brotherhood's power. As a result of an ancient Ritual of destruction invoked by Grand Master Muz Ashen, the entire planet is now no more than a barren wasteland. Charred buildings have been reduced to rubble, but ash flutters into the wind from the embers of fires that seem to burn in eternal requiem. A dark energy still lingers, and at its center, rests the once great temple known as the Dark Hall.

The Dark Hall itself is one of the only few structures to defy the full might of the Ritual. The ruins and remains around it are littered with decay. Tall spires have been toppled and withered with corrosion from the planet's periodic dust storms. The Dark Hall’s interior is mired with collapsed pillars and door frames. The last remnants 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. The stairways leading down into the subterranean levels are missing whole sections, and some simply lead to dead ends. The crypts below have been ransacked and scavenged, sarcophagi upturned and left with a mixture of mummified corpses and empty caskets.

Beyond this, scouting reports still vary when the topic of Force apparitions and ghosts is broached.

Proceed at your own risk.

Pristine, marble corridors sensually welcomed her as beautifully crafted, silk curtains billowed in the warm breeze. There was nothing to fear here, for the light around her coaxed a sense of sanctuary out of the woman. The scent of roses and the sounds of fountains put her at ease, her footfalls softly echoing through the vacant halls. Behind her, grand doors slowly closed, barring her off from the rolling plains of grass and flowers that speckled the terrain. The sight was truly astonishing to behold.

Yet, she was sobbing.

Morgan never trust you. Morgan never love you. Morgan never will. She selfish, her dark alter whispered through her mind.

The half-Sephi, C’ree, fought back her sobs, trying to calm her nerves. To her dismay, she could not control the ferocity and the dripping rage she felt for her captain. As she continued through the grand halls, she clawed at her face in an attempt to stop the tears from flowing. With each wipe, each collection of liquid that was flung to the floor, her delusion began to bleed away as clarity kissed at her mind. Curtains smoldered, marbled floors cracked and splintered. The scents and sounds turned sour and vile. The once gentle wind became pungent and blew with such ferocity that it dared to rival the the fire in her heart.

“Sh-she no trust me. She n-no love me,” C’ree mimicked her alter through the sobs, closing her eyes and allowing her tears to fall, paving a trail behind her in the ash that remained of once perfect carpets.

Her vision cleared and a sense of awareness presented itself. C’ree glanced side to side, taking in the sheer destruction, and felt the dark side shroud her in a wreath of pain and hatred. She felt the vibrations pulsing through the air. She felt long dead eyes drift upon her, whether apparitions or some other visitor to the former seat of Council power. But there was also something else…

The grand doors well behind the half-Sephi opened slowly, revealing the desecrated remains of the courtyards. What came through only further pressed daggers into C’ree’s heart: Morgan Sorenn, captain of the Godless Matron. C’ree’s breathing began to increase rapidly and her fingers coiled into fists, her talons digging deep into flesh. Morgan’s first mate felt her before even turning to pierce into her heart with violet orbs.

“What you want, Captain?” C’ree breathed emphasis on the title, her voice carrying through the silence yet barely above a whisper.

“Carrie, we need to talk. I need to explain things to you,” Sorenn pleaded, noticing C’ree immediately wince at the drop of her name. “You can’t keep avoiding me.”

She want to lie to you. She want to hurt you. No listen! NO! the dark alter screamed within C’ree’s mind, causing her to jump in place out of fright.

“No, no no, Captain. No. You lie, you lie to me! Family no lie. Family no hurt family!”

Flashbacks of all the times her Morgan stole away with Keelan, whispering secrets to each other, echoed through the half-Sephi’s mind. She saw them, heard them. She always did, though they did not know. Every time, every single time, when C’ree would approach her captain, if just to ask what was happening, she was dismissed without reason. Repeatedly through their time together, Morgan would push C’ree away, further and further.

Until the day on Paragon.

Paragon Colony was a fresh scar in C’ree’s collection of pain and betrayal. It was where she finally understood, finally accepted, Morgan’s deception. Morgan and Keelan’s lies were confirmed right there before her very eyes. Every time Morgan told C’ree there was nothing to worry about, or that it was simply ‘nothing;’ all of it compounded together into an elaborate dance of deceit. It was the one nudge that her dark alter needed to fully push her into realizing that the object of her obsession was not keeping her in best interests. The half-Sephi could not understand, could not fathom, how her Morgan could keep her in the dark.

Morgan took a few, cautious, steps forward, extending a hand towards her sister by marking. “Carrie, I need you to come back to the Matron with me. We need to go home and talk. I need you to understand I was trying to protect you.”

C’ree’s dark alter brought forth a rage-filled storm within her mind. She lie! She want to tame you. She no control us! She no protect us! We no hear it!

Violet eyes sank to the floor, struggling with the internal clash of mind against mind. C’ree’s body shook involuntarily as her gaze shifted left, to her side, where her lightsaber, ‘Pieces of Home,’ shook with the same ferocity. When the half-Sephi finally gathered the strength to look back to her captain, the once beautiful, vibrant violet orbs were all but vanquished by the yellow-orange of hatred.

“Carrie. No,” Sorenn stated firmly.

“Carrie no here, Captain Sorenn. You no hurt her no more,” C’ree’s voice dripped with malice and malcontent.

The Matron’s captain narrowed her gaze, recognizing the change as soon as their eyes met. “C’ree, you let her go.” She had already begun calling out to the energies around her, beckoning them to twist around the grand hallway that was to become their battleground. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Too late.”

C’ree channeled her anger, her fury, into a powerful torrent of glacial white electricity and simply launched it from an impossible distance. The unstable blast lanced its way towards the Sorenn woman, but she felt its presence with plenty of time to spare. Morgan gracefully stepped to the side and watched as the energy dissipated harmlessly across the doorway behind her. Something struck her as odd, though.

Of all the times past that Morgan had seen her first mate wage war, with such ferocity and power, she never once recalled a time the woman missed her mark. Something had changed, causing C’ree to act differently; something altered the way C’ree was thinking. What reason would she have to so openly miss? Why would she–

The Force whispered its warnings to the captain.

Morgan spun herself back towards the half-Sephi, just to see the pink woman in a dead sprint. The amount of distance she cleared in such short time was astonishing. Dark energies and whispers around C’ree reacted to her silent cries, sending Pieces of Home from its resting place to her left hand. The amethyst blade, coursing with instability, burst to life with a snap-crack, flooding the surrounding area in a dim hue of purple.

The Matron’s captain quickly moved a hand to her Bryar, but objectively decided against it, instead retrieving her elder lightsaber. She felt the power weaving through C’ree, recognized its influence on her abilities and paused. The half-Sephi growled as she approached Morgan and, as she lifted her amethyst blade to strike, her eyes widened with realization. Morgan’s smile was never larger.

C’ree felt the engrossing shadows around her waver. A sense of emptiness troubled her. C’ree felt her calls go unanswered into the nothingness surrounding her, as if a long-heard song had gone silent.

With all the agile strength she could muster, Morgan triggered her own lightsaber, its blade like a violet shroud surrounding the void of space. Amethyst met the veiled nothingness as Morgan brought her blade up just moments before C’ree would have collided with her. The two remained locked, both by saber and gaze. The Sorenn woman had hoped their quarrel would not escalate, but the yellow-orange fire in the half-Sephi’s eyes explained how inevitable it was.

“You no deserve mark,” C’ree growled, licking her lips while pushing fiercely into their lock.

Morgan was no match for C’ree’s strength on her own, the knuckles on both her hands becoming white as she pushed harder and harder against the half-Sephi. C’ree flashed a wide, toothy grin and dug her heels into the rubble and ash, shifting her weight for one more vigorous push. Morgan was waiting for just that.

The extra push from C’ree gave Morgan the opportunity to drop to a knee and roll to the side, causing the half-Sephi to nearly topple forward, still blinded by her own fury. Morgan quickly recovered and relaxed her grip, turning slightly to the side and ensuring her gaze did not leave her first mate again. C’ree’s grip only further tightened, threatening to snap the wooden panels that made up the majority of her saber’s body as she slowly and confidently turned to face her captain.

“Karking hell, C’ree. Enough of this! You will get nowhere if you continue fighting,” Morgan growled in annoyance. “Return to the Matron and we will talk about this like civilized people.”

C’ree’s face contorted into a mess of emotions and her ears twitched, unable to contain the held back anger within her any longer. The halls echoed with a sorrowful scream of rage that permeated to the very marrow of the bone.

C’ree charged again, her sorrow-filled fury reaching Morgan’s mind with absolute clarity. The pirate captain didn’t want any of it to happen, not this kind of fight. C’ree was as close to family as anyone could get, and yet Morgan would have to calm her or harm her; and the latter was looking more and more likely.

Their sabers clashed, sparking in the dimness of the Dark Hall, echoing the rage that permeated the ether around the two women. Morgan’s blade danced with C’ree’s as if they were perfect partners turned against each other. With every movement she made around the massive pillars, using the momentary pauses as respite, she gave C’ree another chance to find an equally suitable position to strike. The captain was on the defensive, just as she wanted to be; just as she prefered. C’ree was faster, stronger, she could endure more punishment and keep going, but Morgan was smarter and had a better sense of the space around them, and she used it to her every advantage.

C’ree’s talon-like nails slashed at her sister-no-more with furious resolve, aiming at the neck tattoo that still bound them in word, deed, and blood. With every miss, the half-Sephi screamed out even louder, infuriated that she could not bleed the sow who lied and manipulated her. In Morgan’s eyes, however, she saw nothing but sorrow and regret. She didn’t care. Blood for betrayal, that was her way.

Whatever energy dripped through the crumbing walls of the Dark Hall, Morgan knew it had influenced C’ree beyond her lunacy, beyond her “illness.” She too sensed its deceptive and permeating presence. In between strikes and leaps, pirouettes and rolls, she could sense whatever it was inside the ancient structure turning her sorrow and her fear for her sister’s life into pure anger and resentment. She could feel it manipulating her and reaching into the darkest parts of her mind to find a seed to grow, and she could only do so much to stop it. After everything you have done for her, after all the sacrifices and schemes to keep her safe, this is how she repays you. Put her in her place! it whispered, sweet and malicious, so tempting.

The Herald rolled backwards across the stone-tiled floor, her back dragging along a massive pillar as C’ree slashed the stone wall Morgan had stood against only moments earlier. The half-Sephi advanced, panting heavily as her target retreated away from her into the middle of the hall. The pirate queen felt the numbness of too many strikes reverberating in her muscles and bones. C’ree was powerful, that much was clear, and her vengeance was furious, but Morgan would rather be hated and see her sister alive than lose her, even if that meant bringing her to her senses by force. Everything she did, she did for her family. No one seemed to understand that or care, not her brother, not her Master, not Keelan, not even C’ree.

“That’s enough,” she spoke, barely above a whisper, as she stopped in the very middle of the hall. Her ears picked up the gradually faster flapping of her jacket, her senses noticing the uplift of the wind and dust. Something was coming, she could feel it in her bones. As a rock crumbled underfoot, the massive door of the Dark Hall flashed in front of her eyes in a vision. It was momentary, too quick to glimpse detail, but it was there, pulsing in the back of her mind. Danger.

“That’s enough, Carrie. I’ve had enough of your childish tantrums.” Morgan’s face contorted into a grimace in reply to C’ree’s rising anger. Clearly she was speaking to the better side of her, not the monster standing in her way. “Everything I’ve ever done was to protect you, even if I had to lie, cheat, and kill. I would do it all all over again, and again, and again until you were safe and no one who could harm you was standing alive.” Bogan coalesced around the Herald in wisps of dark mist just as the loud roar of the wind picked up even more. C’ree’s vision blurred. Her skin felt cold as she sensed the Force becoming more and more distant, receding for her mind like waters on an ocean shore. A part of the half-Sephi — that part that made up Carrie — panicked. She started screaming and clawing at her forehead again, focusing whatever attention she could on feeling those flowing melodies in her mind again. They were there, but quieter, so distant. As if she was listening to them underwater.

Morgan’s focus remained on C’ree as the doors of the hall finally swung open with a bang of metal on stone. The Herald reached for her breath mask instinctively as she had done so many times before. The ash and sand swirled in a vortex around them as the wind picked them up, stinging their eyes and making their breathing heavier. Morgan’s breath mask gave her respite from the particles, though they still forced her to blink rapidly and focus on her other senses. Her concentration faltered just as C’ree muttered a curse from the enveloping dust cloud.

The captain squinted and stood up straight. “You want to kill me and be alone again? Come on!” the woman roared over the loud gust just as she sensed her first mate approaching.

Roaring winds dulled her senses as dust, ash and rock pelted and stung at her face. The half-Sephi heard her captain bellow her challenge, but could not accurately depict where she was located in the vortex around them. The rod of unstable amethyst energy retreated into its housing as C’ree took step after careful step, slowing her breathing as to not inhale too much of the ash and foreign substance blowing about. This was just more deception by Morgan, she knew it. Above all else, however, C’ree was confused. When first approaching Morgan, she felt her song fade, but then just now, she felt it even more, as if cascading. She knew Morgan was formidable, but she had not expected such a disconnection to envelope her in such a way.

“Why you hide, Captain? You afraid? You take my song, you take my notes so I no fight? You coward,” the first mate taunted through coughs, prodding at the wavering sensation she now felt: a familiar tune struggling to return to her.

C’ree kicked a pile of rocks into the torrent around her, expecting that any change in sound and presence would spark a reaction from Morgan. Her face contorted into dissatisfaction at the lack of response, but she continued forward, poking and prodding at the sensation that her melody was to reunite with her soon. The loss of connection was not like taking a toy from a child for her, but rather, it was as if the sound was stripped from an instrument. That instrument, however, was being retuned. With each step, the pebbles and dust wobbled and rattled away from her. Each step brought a warning that something explosive was to be unleashed.

Then she felt it.

“You no hold me in chains, Captain.”

Something happened to Morgan, whether exhaustion or the distracting, ripping torrent of dust and ash around them, causing her mental grip to falter. C’ree immediately felt it as her mind exploded into clarity and her song enveloped her presence once again. Before anything else could be done to strip it from her again, the first mate roared and slammed her hand into the ground.

A shuddering crescendo of power rolled through the space around her, grabbing hold of the vortex and simply ripping it away. Clarity of sight and sound took the place of the dust and ash as her vision cleared and Morgan could be seen. She was still recovering from the force of C’ree’s power slamming her into a nearby pillar, though she did not take long at all to quickly regain her composure when her eyes fell upon her first mate.

Within an instant, C’ree leapt forwards. The way she carried herself proved that she was fit and trained for combat, no sign of torpor present to slow her down. Pieces of Home erupted once again in a flash of amethyst instability, swinging high once she was within range of the Matron’s captain. Morgan easily dropped beneath the swipe, but quickly realized her mistake when C’ree’s right fist followed up, stiletto in hand.

The blade pierced Morgan’s clothing and skin with ease, the feeling of a foreign object within her causing eyes to widen. The half-Sephi quickly hopped backwards, removing herself from any chance of retaliation as the Sorenn woman dropped to a knee. She grabbed at the stiletto still buried within her abdomen and tore it out with a grunt, throwing it to the side. Blood drizzled through her fingers as she applied pressure to the wounded area.

“Heh, imagine that. You actually did it,” Morgan grunted as she felt the wound widen from her movements; the strike was almost surgical.

C’ree sneered at the opposition. “You no think I would? You underestimate, Captain. Never underestimate!”

The half-Sephi roared and charged forward once again, taking advantage of the present situation. A solid kick connected with Morgan’s stomach, causing the wind to be forcibly ripped from her lungs. She was still not going to harm her sister, this much was apparent. She would, however, make sure C’ree knew. The half-Sephi’s saber rose high in anticipation for a significant blow, but as Morgan’s gaze rose to meet her, something snapped within.

You no hurt my Morgan! a voice rang out through her mind.

C’ree’s eyes widened as a force unseen stopped her in her tracks. Yellow-orange orbs flickered violet momentarily. Her grip faltered and Pieces of Home fell from her grasp. The amethyst blade quickly retreated and the wooden paneled hilt clattered on the stone beneath their feet. C’ree’s teeth grit with fury, her eyes wild with rage. She had the chance to rid herself of the betrayer, of the woman full of secrets, but she could not.

“Why you no let me, Carrie. Why? She hurt you, she hurt us.”

Morgan, still feeling the effects of the wound and kick, struggled to her feet and smiled. She saw the internal struggle of duality, mind against mind, and quickly devised a plan to use this to her advantage. She took action in an instant.

“Carrie,” Morgan's voice was muffled but clear enough that it grasped the other woman’s attention. Sorenn’s smile turned into a grimace only momentarily as she coughed, her wound doing her no favors. Purple orbs fixated on red liquid spilling from the captain’s guts just as small shreds of panic glistened in those eyes. “I’d like to talk to C’ree, now.” The Human ended with a look that would bring soldiers to their knees. There was an audible sigh as C’ree stretched her neck and closed her eyes. When she opened them, once purple orbs turned fiery and menacing. There was a colossal battle inside the woman, one that, until now, Morgan thought she could control. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps she wasn’t supposed to control it. Perhaps she was supposed to mend it. The idea developed in the Adept’s mind more and more with every beating second. She wasn’t sure whether it would work or get her killed, but she had no choice. Despite her attempts to focus and close the wound in her abdomen, progress was very slow. She needed a lot of time.

“C’ree.” Morgan’s mouth twisted in pain, prompting a satisfactory reaction from the half-Sephi. “I really did underestimate you. I thought you didn’t have it in you to try and kill me.” Morgan didn’t even have to say ‘never again’ for C’ree to understand the meaning behind the silence that followed. The Human’s glare was enough. “No more lies.”

For a moment it looked like Morgan would take a step forwards; for a moment C’ree even sensed her intent to pull out her lightsaber and rush, for better or worse. But all the Captain did was fall on her bottom. Morgan released a howl of pain as her wound bled some more. She had felt many like it before, and she already knew her time was running out. She was fairly sure her intestines were cut open, as she was bleeding profusely. The technicalities eluded her; all she knew was that agony awaited.

C’ree’s expression remained unchanged, somewhere between satisfied glee and rage. She simply observed the woman in front of her. Slowly, the Force crept into her flesh and mended whatever could be mended to stop the bleeding, but it took its toll. Morgan dragged herself against the pillar and leaned on it.

“You know,” the Human started as she coughed again, this time splatters of blood mixed in her spit, “there’s only one reason why you’re alive now, C’ree. Just one.” She pointed a single finger at the half-Sephi. Even on the floor, bloody and reeling, the blasted pirate gave her lectures. “You’re alive because you share Carrie’s body. And somewhere deep down,” she practically yelled out, as if Carrie would more easily hear her, “Carrie knows why that is.” She coughed again, her smile caressed by drool and blood.

C’ree snarled and shook in place. For all her hatred of Morgan and her lies, she knew that this was not one of them. Carrie knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, what exactly Morgan was saying. Carrie and Morgan, Morgan and Carrie. That relationship sickened C’ree more than anything. All she ever wanted was to fee Carrie from Morgan’s perverted influence. All she wanted was to kill her and be done with it, but Carrie didn’t want that. She loved the treacherous Human too much. Until recently, she loved her so much that whenever C’ree tried to do anything to Morgan, Carrie would take control and stop her. It was dumb luck that some of Morgan’s lies spilled out. It allowed the crazed half-Sephi to strike a blow against her enemy, against their enemy. But Carrie still cared too much, still loved too much. Morgan’s influence was poison and disease all in one.

“I know,” the Captain laughed out loud, taunting the woman further. “Of course I know, how could I not? You’ve been trying to get rid of me ever since Keelan came aboard.” The name sparked another bout of twitching, twisting and shaking from the first mate. “But I thought Carrie would keep you at bay for long enough.” She intentionally omitted the mention of Paragon Colony or the incident there. The half-Sephi was on edge already. “Guess I was wrong, so you know what, C’ree,” she practically spat the name out, “I’ll change my ways. No more lies. No more deceptions. Just...truth.” The Captain’s hands dragged away from her closing wound, across her belly, and onto her belt.

C’ree stopped, finally standing perfectly still. Morgan was never one to give up so easily. She was up to something, C’ree knew. The Captain couldn’t fool her any more. “What you talking about?”

“I won’t lie to you or Carrie ever again. In fact, I’ll tell her everything I know. All that I have learned, all that I am, everything my life has taught me so far and is yet to teach me — I will share everything with Carrie. I will make Carrie as strong as you, as smart, as cunning, as powerful as you. I will make Carrie the most feared pirate this side of the galaxy, and when she knows everything I know, she won’t need you any more.”

Morgan’s laughter mixed with gurgling sounds as her throat filled with saliva. The breath mask muffled it, but the sheer pleasure of Morgan’s glee drove the crazed woman even madder. She rushed forwards as her lightsaber, once underfoot, flew into her free hand. But Morgan was ready for her. With enough time to prepare for what was coming, and her wound now closed enough to move, Morgan unleashed the Force into a shimmering wall of energy. The tip of the saber rammed through the shield, shattering it. It pierced the pirate’s shoulder, just above the heart, and forced a scream from Morgan’s lips, tears rolling down her cheeks.

C’ree’s expression changed once again, this time into full shock and disbelief. Carrie, once again, took over. The lightsaber slipped through her fingers and rattled against the floor once more as she screamed, clawing at her face. Her Captain simply fell over to her side.