Abandoned and forgotten, the ruins of the Dark Temple have slowly succumbed to the erosion of time. In the central chamber—the walls have crumbled, the ceiling has caved in, and the jungle now flourishes within the once pristine halls.

Green light filters itself through the temple, mixing eerily with the dark, violet hue of Dromund Kaas’ sky. Lightning flickers overhead, the raw energy of the Force clashing high above. The floor is overgrown with flora, large plants and grasses that have swallowed the old stone. Wild creatures roam freely, skittering away from the presence of intruders while vicious predators hide just out of sight.

The main hall is lined on both sides by towering statues, heads bowed in supplication. They stand in deference to the sculpture of a pure-blooded Sith, which towers over the chamber with outstretched arms. The sculpture has been split diagonally down the middle, as if cleaved in two by a rusted blade, but the majesty in the stone still echoes to the past.

On either side of the main hall, remnants of branches to inaccessible parts of the temple remain. One might tilt their head to take in what is left of the mezzanine—the balcony overlooking the chamber—still held aloft by the great pillars standing behind the statues. Several of the pillars have fallen, providing a pathway up to the mezzanine for those willing to take the risk for higher ground. Spirits of the Sith are rumoured to still haunt the grounds—waiting for poor, misguided fools to walk blindly into their domain.

Upon the remains of the once beautiful mezzanine, the hybrid lay, resting prone on his back upon the cold stone floor. He lay, eyes captivated by the lightning streaked sky overhead. His only company, the whisper of the breeze through leaves and the occasional skittering of wildlife through the unkempt brush of the once proud temple. Thunder rumbled in the distance, birds burst from an overhanging branch caused leaves to rain across his vision.

Slowly, he sat up, to draw his vision upon the split sculpture dominating the space. He sensed Kylex, rather than seeing him. He paid him no mind, not yet. Rather, he dwelled upon the pure-blooded Sith. The Arcanist took in the ancient beauty of its grandeur, and thought upon its retinue of supplicants. His left ear twitched to the sound of a snapping twig. He shifted his attention to the Warrior but five feet from him. Ruby red met violet eyes, a rumble of thunder spoke their otherwise silent greeting to one another.

The Human looked past his Rollmaster to look upon the grandeur the other had moments ago been studying. “You looked so content.”

“I get that way, in places such as these,” Mune offered lightly. He turned back to the scene below them, took it in once more. It was different, setting eyes upon such sites in person rather than as ink within the pages of a book. Or an image on the screen of a computer. He traced the intricate sculpting work of the Sith statue once more, analyzing the spectacular contours. “I find that they calm the ghosts.”

“Ghosts?” Kylex queried.

“The past is full of them. They haunt our memories.” The Hybrid shifted his gaze once more to his young friend, he knew full well Kylex, of anyone, understood.

“If they can’t be calmed?”

“Then perhaps we, ourselves, refuse to let them be.” Mune answered softly.

The silence stretched on for a moment, neither spoke. Thunder rolled above them, angry, perhaps at their invasion of the ancient site. When finally, the silence was broken not by the sounds of nature, but by the foolhardy Human with an impish grin crossing his face. “Want to see if we can shut them up?”

Mune could not but grin himself.

Their lightsabers ignited in a wicked snap hiss of energy. Mune lifted his two sabers, crackling blue adding to the already eerie green light that made its way into the dark temple. Kylex levelled his red saber at his opponent. Neither moved, both stood ready. Mune held his off-hand saber in a reversed grip, his second pointed offensively towards the Warrior. The more aggressive Juggernaut made his move, his saber arcing viciously through the air.

Mune saw it for what it was. He stepped in, caught the blade upon his defensively positioned saber. The impact cascaded light violently over their clothing, bringing them into sharp relief with their surroundings. Their shadows stood ominous watch against the ancient rock. The Hybrid’s second saber came up in an upwards slash. Kylex, however, was quick to shift his weight to the side and dodge the blow. His saber lashed out in a counter stabbing motion that was flicked aside by the constantly analyzing Savant.

The testing blows continued. Mune stepped in, a sweeping motion of his defensive blade. Kylex was forced to catch it upon his own. Easily, they both knew who was physically stronger, just as both knew who was the more agile. Blue and red sabers rent the air, a crist staccato of weapon upon weapon, a racket that sent caused birds to take wing from their perch among the trees. Kylex’ blows came in violent, crushing blows, each intended to gauge his strength against his opponent’s. Mune wove in close and back out again, taking each blow in stride. Each sent a shock up his arm. He wove in and out again, blocking a blow only to adjust and attack himself in swift and calculated motions to gauge how quickly the Warrior could adjust to protect himself.

Already, sweat beaded upon their brows. Their faces locked in narrowed looks of concentration. Kylex grinned like a fool, every strike sending a thrill through him. Mune, much as his friend, enjoyed it perhaps as much though outwardly showed nothing then.

Upon the next blow. Mune shifted his footing. He dropped his knee and took the full force of one of Kylex’ overhand slashes upon his defensive blade. His center of balance shifted, the Human found himself over extended. Mune drove the pummel of his offensive blade up into the Human’s solar plexus. The air erupted in a whoosh from Kylex’ lungs. He stumbled back and the Arcanist straightened back to his feet with a sheepish smile.

“You got too comfortable with my pattern.” Mune poked verbally.

“You’re fast.” Kylex noted between sharp intakes of breath.

“You are strong.” Mune shot back with a chuckle.

“Thank you for accepting my challenge.”

“Shut up, Warrior, and raise your saber.” The Hybrid grinned ferally, his own saber raised again to begin the dance anew.