The air around you hums with tension as Marrok steps into your path. He was the last of the Inquisitorius. The glow of his double-bladed lightsaber spins in a blur of red, a relic of an era that has passed. His black cape billows before being unhooked and cast aside. This fight was much more personal.

You've heard whispers of Marrok before, a shadowy figure, a remnant of the Inquisitorius. Tasked to eliminate Jedi, but now was no Empire, it was the New Republic. In the scuffle of Corellia’s industrial docks, your paths have crossed. The hum of engines of the shuttle with the stolen hyperdrive flying away. Hera fighting to delay the theft of the hyperdrive. But you know what’s coming. This fight was inevitable.

Marrok’s stare is cold, piercing through the slits of his helmet. You see no fear in him—only determination and the dark side. The HK-87 assassin droid at his side is already calculating, moving into position. Then, in a flash, Marrok’s lightsaber spins, sent hurtling toward you, a crimson disc of death.

But you’re ready. You simply sidestepped, feeling the heat of the blade as it whizzes past. Without missing a beat, Marrok catches the returning hilt in his hand. His grip tightens, his posture shifts—he's about to attack.

You plant your feet, your lightsaber igniting with a snap-hiss. The Force flows through you with your focus, instincts sharpening as the droid closes the distance.

With a flicker of movement, the droid behind him charges. Its skeletal metallic frame hurtling forward to strike you down first, calculating the odds of disabling you before the duel can even begin. The sound of its servos whine.