The Force sings, as she approaches the building that houses, for the moment, Darth Bane, and his Apprentice the so-called "Darth" Zannah.

It sings a dirge, and yet a battle-cry.

For she has made her choice, and the seeds of an Empire resurgent fall today - before they can bloom into a cancer at the heart of the Republic, as flawed as it is and will be.

Her lightsaber ignites - scintillant white limning the edge where red would have bled into its sunset - or perhaps its sunrise - before.  It hums softly in her hand, the duellist's grip worn.

The door blows open with a twitch of Force.  The single point of egress will seal their doom - and also hers.

But that is a sacrifice she is willing to make.

"Come now, Bane.  You could not have thought we would all let you hunt us down.  And I speak as a Seer when I say: No true Sith'ari can proclaim themself.  To destroy the Sith, one must turn away from pride.  But enough talk.  Have at you!"

The battle is joined.  Lightning and lightsabers clash; telekinetic forces rip through the air.  The thick stone of the building becomes more and more dangerous to be inside, even as Bane's pride drives him to destroy the woman who insulted him, and Zannah's dissatisfaction with her knowledge pulls her back in; every time Zannah thinks to simply leave and deal with only the winner, the interloper pulls out another new trick to hold her attention.

Several minutes later, a heavily laden ground transport crashes into the building and rapidly conflagrates, detonating, leaving nothing but two heavily charred corpses, a few lightsabers, and one surprisingly intact Sith mask, behind.

Darth Chataris passes into the Force with a smile on her face.  Her work here is done.