The Voyages of Targon Karashi

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Five

 

Targon and his new companion didn’t have to look hard to find the next clue of this investigation. All they had to do was follow the crowds and screams to the next murder sight.

 

They found another Jedi, and he was killed in much the same way as the others.

 

“What monstrous Sith kills like this?” Targon asked fiercely.

 

“You think I know?” Joan countered.

 

Targon frowned. “You’re part of Imperial Intelligence. I thought they knew everything.”

 

“Not quite everything,” Joan shook her head.

 

“Targon!” a voice called out.

 

They turned and saw Rick and Gabrielle approach.

 

“Rick!” Targon sighed with relief. “What happened here?”

 

“You’re asking us?” Rick asked. “What about you? Where’s that senator?”

 

“He’s dead,” Joan answered harshly.

 

Rick and Gabrielle studies the woman dressed all in black.

 

“And who are you supposed to be?” Rick inquired.

 

Joan took off her aviators and stared at him with her piercing green eyes. “The name is Snipes, and right now we’ve got a serious problem.”

 

“You’re an Imperial Agent!” Gabrielle hissed. “I can tell by the way you carry yourself.”

 

“If we judged everyone that way,” Joan growled. “Then everyone would be calling you a hussy.”

 

Gabrielle made a move to punch her, and Rick did as well. But Targon stood between them.

 

“We don’t have time for this,” Targon stated. “We need to find that last Jedi and…”

 

A bloodcurdling scream filled the street, and people started panicking. The hum of lightsabers was heard a ways off, and then another scream.

 

Targon led the way as they ran down past the several shops, leaving the crowd behind. They came upon an alleyway, where a Cerean lay dying.

 

“Oh no,” Targon gasped, recognizing him as the last of the Jedi team. He ran to kneel over the dying Jedi.

 

The Cerean gasped for breath as his body trembled from the wounds. His eyes glanced up at Targon.

 

“We failed…” he rasped. “We all failed…”

 

“Who did this?” Targon asked.

 

“A demon…” the Jedi replied. “When her claws sunk into my skin…she could reach into my mind…and I could see into hers…”

 

“Rest easy,” Targon supported his head. “What did you see?”

 

“I…had received the warning from Hazo…I had been watching your companions…she knows where they are now…”

 

“What does that matter?” Targon asked.

 

The Cerean grasped his arm with his last bit of strength. “It’s you…” he rasped. “I saw her mind…she’s after you…it was never…about the…senator…it’s you…”

 

Then he breathed his last and fell limp.

 

Targon laid him down easily and closed the lids of the Jedi’s eyes. Then he stood.

 

“Alright, guys,” Rick shuddered. “What’s going on? I am really freaked out!”

 

“The Sith has gone for the others,” Targon stated.

 

“What others?” Joan asked.

 

Targon started running, and the others followed. “We have to find Sorgal, and Greyhawk and Xana. They’re in danger!”

 

They found the cantina quickly, and they ran inside. It was empty of customers…but more importantly, it was empty of Sorgal.

 

“Where is he?” Rick asked. “There doesn’t look like any sort of struggle…”

 

“Look again,” the agent in black pointed to the bar.

 

Gabrielle approached and noticed the spot of blood on the counter. “I think it’s Sorgal’s,” she said.

 

“How would you know that?” Rick asked. “It could be anyone…”

 

They heard a whimpering in a far corner. Targon made his way over and found a small serving girl hiding beneath the counter near the drink dispensers.

 

“It’s alright,” he said softly. “You can come out now.”

 

The woman was hesitant, but then she crawled out and glanced fearfully at the group. She was still shivering and whimpering with fear.

 

“What happened?” Targon asked.

 

“There was a man sitting there,” she pointed to the bloodied spot. “He had messy black hair…and rusty red armor.”

 

“Okay, it was Sorgal,” Rick sighed.

 

“He…” the girl shuddered. “Something grabbed him and slammed his head into the counter. Everyone was gone…there had been murders…”

 

“Who did it?” Targon asked.

 

“I didn’t see…” the girl shivered. “It was like there was nobody there. Then he was dragged out the back door. That was several minutes ago.”

 

Targon frowned. He patted her on the shoulder. “You should find the police, and then go home. You’ll be fine.”

 

The girl nodded and left.

 

Targon turned to the others. “We need to get to the others now!”

 

---

 

A fearful and confused crowd had gathered at the swoop tracks when they arrived. Police were on the scene, surrounding the tall control and spectator tower.

 

High above, atop the building, someone was laughing while holding two people by the throats.

 

Joan peered through her rifle’s scope to get a better look.

 

“Two hostages,” she stated simply. “An old man and a young woman.”

 

Gabrielle pulled out her binoculars and handed them to Targon. He looked through and saw that it was indeed Greyhawk and Xana.

 

The other person, though, he didn’t recognize at all.

 

“What is that?” he asked.

 

“I’d guess a Sith,” Joan shrugged. “But I have no idea what species.”

 

Targon took another look. It was a woman. She wore nothing but a minimum of gold trinkets and belts. Her reddish skin glistened and sparkled in the sunlight. Burning red hair flowed in the breeze, and from behind…a tail swished back and forth.

 

“What is that? A Barabel?” Rick asked.

 

“Definitely not a Barabel,” Joan replied.

 

Targon frowned. “It doesn’t matter who or what she is, I’m going up there.”

 

“That’s a fool’s move,” Joan hissed. “She wants you to go up there. I’ll take a shot – a single bolt is all it would take.”

 

“And if you hit her, she’d drop them!” Gabrielle snapped.

 

“Got any better ideas, sister?” Joan asked.

 

Targon wasn’t going to sit around, though. He headed off alone, pushing past the crowd and the police perimeter.

 

An officer tried to stop him, but Targon flashed his lightsaber.

 

The policeman shrugged and backed off.

 

Targon was about to open the door and head in, but then he heard the agent call out to him.

 

He turned in time to catch a grappling hook she had thrown to him.

 

“Best not to be predictable,” she shouted to him.

 

Targon nodded and swung the cable up. The hook fastened onto a ledge of the tower and he started to climb. When he reached the end of the cable, he tossed it up again. This time it didn’t catch and simply clattered back down.

 

He tried again and this time it caught. He resumed his ascent.

 

A voice called down to him.

 

“Ah, so you’ve finally decided to show up.” It was the strange woman’s voice. It was youthful but fierce and cruel. “About time – my arms were starting to get tired.”

 

Targon ignored the taunt and kept climbing. Then the voice laughed again, loud and fearsome. It made his body quake with fear.

 

“The young Jedi Knight, bravely climbing the tower to save his friends. But which one will he save in time? The old man or the pretty damsel?”

 

Targon glanced up, and saw that the Sith was looking down at him, holding both Greyhawk and Xana over the edge. The hostages appeared to be unconscious.

 

“You know what’s so hilarious about you Jedi?” the woman asked with a sharp-teeth grin. “It’s how you always try to save everyone – so you end up not being able to save anyone.”

 

“Don’t you dare do it,” Targon shouted to her.

 

“You’re daring me, eh?” she laughed. “Well alright then, if you insist…”

 

She released her hold and both her hostages started tumbling from the ledge.

 

Targon’s eyes widened. He swung himself along the cable to catch the closest one – Xana. Then he reached out with the Force to call Greyhawk to him.

 

The Sith laughed, but then she looked out over to the crowd. “Oops,” she snickered. “It seems I forgot that the hostages were the only thing keeping the crowds down there from shooting me. Oh well, things can’t be too easy, can they?”

 

A storm of lasers flew up towards the Sith as Greyhawk was nearly in Targon’s grasp. But then the shots diverted course.

 

They were headed straight for him.

 

He grabbed a hold of Greyhawk and slid down the line. He reached a ledge and set them down, just as the rain of lasers poured down on him.

 

Targon’s lightsaber flew to his hand and twirled about, deflecting all the bolts away. One ricocheted off his saber and struck the grapple, dislodging it from its place.

 

He caught the line as soon as shooting stopped, grabbing it just before it fell out of reach.

 

It was time for a different strategy.

 

Throwing the line up, he immediately started swinging back and forth until he got himself enough momentum to hurl himself up and over the edge.

 

He landed on the roof and activated his saber again.

 

The Sith turned around to face him, her burning eyes seared into his mind. He remembered having seen such eyes in one of his visions.

 

“I’ve been waiting for you, Jedi,” she smiled. “I am Darth Succuba.”

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Six

 

Targon raised an eyebrow. “You’re a new one,” he said. “Has the Empire gotten sick of all the others failing?”

 

“Pretty much,” the Sith smiled.

 

She pulled out her own saber, the crimson blade fit with the rest of her red and gold appearance.

 

Targon strafed to the left, facing directly at her. She moved to the right at the same pace.

 

“If this is all about me, why kill the senator and the Jedi?” Targon asked.

 

“This is my first job,” the woman shrugged. “I wanted to get you riled and scared…and I wanted to have a little fun as well.”

 

“You’re sick,” Targon stated.

 

“Am I?” Succuba grinned. “I hadn’t noticed. However, I’m sure you’ll be a lot more fun to play with than those other guys. They didn’t know how to impress a lady – my type especially.”

 

“I guess I’ll be sure to disappoint you,” Targon charged.

 

She caught his saber easily and smiled at him. “Oh, but you won’t. Not in the slightest.”

 

Their blades parted again, and this time she charged.

 

Targon made a move to block her, but she leaped over him and landed at his rear. He spun around quickly to deflect her next attack.

 

She struck again, lower this time. Targon moved to intercept, but it was a ruse. Instead, she pulled away quickly and came at his chest.

 

His reflexes were good, though, and he was able to catch blade just before it struck him.

 

Again and again she attacked. Her speed was intense, though not quite as swift as he knew Arachne to be. But instead, she made up for it with her grace and charm. Every move was like she was dancing and playing with him.

 

Her scales glistened, blinding him occasionally. Worse, however, was how she emanated a powerful influence over him. It messed with his mind…causing his eyes to see only her.

 

And she was enchanting. Lithe and strong, she knew full well of her sexually appealing appearance, and she made full use of it. She kept at him, and forced him into awkward defensive stances where he could see parts of her that he knew he shouldn’t be seeing.

 

But above all, she was aggressive. With her efforts to distract succeeding, she kept up her brutal assault. It took all of Targon’s focus to keep his eyes and mind on the fight instead of on her.

 

It was harder than anything he had done before. Other Sith had immense power, overwhelming him with their strength. And others still had speed and agility to keep him jumping.

 

But Succuba was different. She was personal, she stood on the same level with him, and she kept hitting harder and harder.

 

Then again, it might have been she was the same…it just took more effort to keep holding in the continual fight.

 

Targon mustered his physical and mental strength and locked sabers with her. Her wicked grin was right in his face, and she was pushing forward.

 

Unwittingly, Targon felt himself giving ground. He wanted to keep holding against her…but keep himself away from her.

 

Then he felt himself at the edge of the tower. He glanced back for less than a second, realizing the great height he was at.

 

And she was still pushing forward.

 

With a roar, he pushed back as hard as he could. And then he made the effort to spin them both, so that their positions were reversed. Now she was at the edge, and he was pushing forward.

 

She laughed. “This has been fun,” she grinned. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

 

“I’m afraid not,” Targon hissed.

 

“Really? If that’s what you really think then let me give you something to remember me by.”

 

Her left hand broke away from her saber’s handle and slashed at his neck.

 

Pain seared through him, as though the wound was poisoned. He grabbed his neck and cried out in pain.

 

Then she made a lunge, but just as she did so, a blaster bolt from the agent’s sniper rifle struck her foot.

 

She howled and lost her balance. The Sith then started to tumble off the tower…but before she did, she reached out with her tail and wrapped it around Targon’s leg.

 

Then the two of them plummeted to the ground. They struck the walls of the tower several times.

 

Targon felt his insides grow weak as they fell. Then they parted, each falling separately.

 

Targon reached out with the Force to cushion his fall. He barely did it in time as the ground came to meet him. He wasn’t killed from the fall, but the landing hurt like none other.

 

Yet he didn’t notice it as much as the burning in his neck.

 

Succuba hit the ground at a roll, and then she was back on her feet. The shot to her leg hadn’t been as bad as thought, and she was still able to walk.

 

But she found herself surrounded by more than a dozen policemen. They swarmed around her and took her to the ground.

 

Targon felt himself getting weak, and his eyes were dimming. Someone was at his side.

 

“You should be dead!” Rick gasped.

 

“Thanks for the support,” Targon groaned. “How are the others?”

 

“The police are sending some people up to bring old Greyhawk and the Falleen down right now. And they’ve got the Sith in custody.”

 

“Sorgal?”

 

“We haven’t seen any sign of him.”

 

“The agent?”

 

Rick growled. “We tried to stop her from making such a reckless shot…and I think we upset her. She disappeared while everyone was watching the two of you tumble.”

 

“What are we going to do about Sorgal?” Targon asked as he felt himself fading.

 

“I don’t know,” Rick replied. “But don’t worry…we’ll find him. And we’ll get you to the ship now.”

 

Rick paused, and then said, “Man, she really scratched you there, didn’t she?”

 

Just before he lost consciousness, he heard shouting and screaming.

 

The policemen were launched into the air by a massive burst through the Force. The Sith was on her feet and scampering away.

 

She climbed into an unmanned swoop bike and zoomed away.

 

Targon could have sworn he could hear her laughing. And then things went black…the last thing he could feel was the wound on his neck.”

 

---

 

Sorgal awoke with a blinding light pointed directly into his face. He growled and groaned at it and tried to get away. But he found himself bound to a chair.

 

“You’re awake, good,” a strange voice said.

 

Sorgal struggled in vain against the bonds. “Who’s there? Who are you?”

 

“Don’t concern yourself with things that aren’t important,” the voice said.

 

“Too bad, I am concerning myself!”

 

The voice laughed and then changed the subject. “I feel I should thank you – capturing a rogue Sith Lord is much easier after he has been drinking. The best of my men would have had quite a fight on his hands were you sober. But such as it was, all he had to do was give you a little knock on the head.”

 

It was then that Sorgal registered his sore head, and the bandages wrapped around it.

 

“Couldn’t handle a fair fight, huh?” Sorgal growled.

 

“Oh, he’s quite good at those, but he doesn’t like them much.”

 

“Me neither,” Sorgal shrugged.

 

“I’m sure you’re still in a bit of shock after all that has happened,” the voice said. “It must be disconcerting to find yourself tied up and alone. But don’t worry, your friends will be coming to join you soon enough.”

 

“Friends?” Sorgal scoffed. “What makes you think that they’re my friends?”

 

“You might not appreciate their companionship, but I am certain the feeling is not mutual. They will come for you, and I have made arrangements that they do.”

 

Sorgal hissed. “You really think you’ll be able to hold me? If you know I’m a Sith, then you know what I’m capable of.”

 

“True,” the voice assented. “But after your drinking venture, I imagine you’ll have quite a hangover any time. That should keep you unfocused.”

 

“It won’t last long.”

 

“I know,” the voice replied. “I never leave anything out of the calculations. That’s why I’ve installed this for you.”

 

Sorgal suddenly cried out from a pulse of electricity that shot through his system.

 

“What was that?!” he roared.

 

“Force binders,” the voice replied casually. “They’ve been prepared to shock you every fifteen minutes…and whenever you try to struggle against them.”

 

Sorgal tried to break free, and found himself screaming from the intense shock again. It was worse this time.

 

“I’ll kill you for this!”

 

“That’s not in the cards,” the voice stated.

 

“What do you want from me?!”

 

“It’s not just you,” the voice said simply. “Your friends will be here to rescue you soon enough. Then I can get what I want.”

 

“Which is?”

 

The voice tsked. “Too many questions can get you into trouble.”

 

“So can drinking, apparently,” Sorgal grumbled.

 

The voice laughed at that. “Indeed. I want you to know, sir, that this isn’t anything personal. It’s just business.”

 

“Oh, and that just makes everything okay then, doesn’t it?”

 

There were footsteps moving away and the voice said no more. Sorgal was left alone with the light glaring in his face and the binders shocking him at their designated intervals.

[TargonKarashi]

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

 

It was a long flight back to Dromund Kaas. Joan had never felt so irritated in her life. She had been trained for sniping – she was one of the Ministry’s best. Yet twice now she had failed to make easy shots.

 

That first one with Jedi Master Hazo…that had been because she realized he had additional information too late after she pulled the trigger.

 

But the other one was because those fools had tried to stop her for fear of hitting the young Jedi. That was stupid – she could hit anything, and anything she pointed her scope at was what she hit.

 

But instead, both had been mediocre and ineffective. Sure, the Jedi had died, but not instantly. And apparently the wound on the Sith girl wasn’t as effective as she had thought.

 

As her ship landed, she shook her head and sighed. It was time to put her personal gripes aside and go report to Director Enro. He would want to know about Senator Mulok’s death…and the strange new agent of Viruul’s.

 

She walked briskly to the Ministry, speaking to no one and keeping away from the crowds. Along her path, she passed a couple people she knew, but she ignored them. Even if they saw her and called to her, she just kept walking.

 

Inside, she noticed that the Ministry was oddly quiet again. She didn’t like it, and she wondered if Viruul was paying another visit.

 

But it turned out not to be the case, as she did see other operatives, workers, and analysts about. She saluted to officers she passed, and she nodded to a fellow agent that she knew. But she spoke to no one.

 

She had to get her report in. Enro needed to know about her mission’s developments, and then they could decide how next to proceed.

 

Night was falling, but Joan knew that Enro would be in his office at this hour. He often was, since he had so many things to manage.

 

Arriving at the door, she knocked twice. There was no reply.

 

With a frown, she pressed the controls to open the door. They didn’t respond right away. She had to push the button several times before the door finally complied and opened.

 

The room was dark inside, and she couldn’t see a thing.

 

“Director Enro?” she called out. “Sir?”

 

A cold chill of worry was running down her spine. Something was wrong.

 

She turned on the light. Nothing looked out of place.

 

Enro was sitting in his chair behind the desk. It was facing away from her.

 

“Sir?” she called as she walked in. “Sir, are you alright?”

 

She turned the chair around and recoiled in alarm.

 

Enro’s eyes were wide open and empty. His mouth was agape and blood trailed down from both corners of the mouth and down his throat. Several slashes had been made along his body, his uniform was tattered and soaked with blood.

 

Joan gasped and held her hand to her mouth.

 

“The tubby director was sticking his fat rear into places he shouldn’t have,” a voice said from behind.

 

Joan whirled around and gasped to see the Sith woman standing in the doorway. Her tail swished from side to side, and she ran her left hand through her hair casually.

 

“You killed one of the Ministry’s directors?!” Joan felt the rage rise inside her.

 

Succuba laughed and walked by her towards the director’s body. She stood behind the chair and placed lifted the corners of Enro’s mouth upwards with two of her claws.

 

“But Tubby so enjoyed it,” she smiled. “See? He’s all smiles here. I don’t think he’d ever had so much attention from a woman before.”

 

“You’re disgusting,” Joan snapped. “By what right do you…?”

 

“By the right as Lord Viruul’s apprentice,” Succuba cut her off. “I saw you on Telos, missy. I know what you were trying to do, capturing the poor senator and bringing him to this dismal place. I think he preferred my visit more than he would have appreciated yours.”

 

“What do you want?” Joan hissed. “Why kill Enro?”

 

Succuba pinched the dead man’s cheek. “Tubby was getting awful curious, weren’t you?” She then patted the cheek as she stared back at Joan. “He was getting into Viruul’s business, having him followed and accessing his files.”

 

Joan tried to keep herself from growing pale. So he knew?

 

The Sith seemed to hear her thoughts. “Of course he knew about you and Enro’s investigations. Viruul doesn’t like to be investigated – he feels it insulting someone would question his authority…or his loyalty to the Empire.”

 

“Viruul’s loyalty is only to himself,” Joan snapped, but then she wondered if that was a smart thing to say.

 

“And he is the Empire,” Succuba smiled. “Along with the rest of the Dark Council. The Sith are the Empire, little agent, not the bumbling, clueless proles. You should know that by now.”

 

“So what?” Joan folded her arms. “Are you going to kill me too? I warn you I won’t go down easily.”

 

“No, Tubby’s the only one I’m visiting today,” Succuba yawned. “I’m tired after playing on Telos. Aren’t you?”

 

Joan scowled at her.

 

Succuba then laughed and started to leave. Just before she went out the door, though, she stopped and peered at Joan.

 

“You’d best be careful from now on, missy,” she said with a cruel grin. “I make men’s deaths enjoyable, but I don’t afford the same luxury to women – especially pretty competition.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Joan hissed.

 

“See that you do,” Succuba nodded. “And see that your duties are only on the Empire’s business, not your own – or any other men like Tubby that you know.”

 

And with that, she vanished.

 

 

---

 

 

 

Targon entered the cockpit, finding Rick fiddling with some transmission.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked.

 

Rick turned and smiled at him. “You’re up! How do you feel?”

 

Targon sat in the co-pilot’s seat. “Weary,” he replied. “And perturbed.”

 

“I’ll bet,” Rick nodded. “Well, I’ve got good news and bad.”

 

“What’s the bad?”

 

“We never found Sorgal,” Rick sighed. “It wasn’t the Sith that took him.”

 

“Who then?”

 

“Well, that’s the good news…sort of.”

 

“What?”

 

Rick continued moving the dials on the console back and forth. “An encrypted message was left on our ship…I found it when we arrived. We’re getting all ready to go, but we’re trying to figure out where to go.”

 

“What’s the message?”

 

“I’ve decrypted some of it…text only. It says that whoever has Sorgal is willing to return him…for a ransom of five thousand credits.”

 

“That’s not very much,” Targon raised an eyebrow. “Must be low-time thugs.”

 

“I know,” Rick nodded. “Problem is…I’m trying to figure out where the message tells us to take the ransom.”

 

“Do you intend to pay?”

 

“Of course not!” Rick scowled. “I may not like that Sith much…but he’s part of the crew, and I’ll do what I can to get him out of there.”

 

Targon smiled, “Anything I can do to help?”

 

“I think I’ve almost got it,” Rick shook his head. “You should rest up…that’s a nasty wound you got there.”

 

Targon reached up and felt where the Sith had slashed him. He could feel the marks, but it wasn’t bleeding anymore. It was, however, still sore.

 

“Well,” he shrugged. “At least we know we can beat this Sith too, seeing as she failed like all the others.”

 

Suddenly, his head burned inside. He grabbed his skull and groaned.

 

“Failed, did she?” an unfamiliar voice asked. “Indeed?”

 

Targon found he was alone. He wasn’t aboard the ship anymore. Now he was standing in a strange room. Dark and thick mist surrounded everything.

 

And then he saw a large chair, and a black shape sitting on it.

 

It was a black figure, as dark and strange as a spectral wraith. Standing beside the seated figure was Succuba, smiling at him.

 

“Who are you?” Targon asked. The fear inside him was incredible – as terrible as when he had been in the presence of Kronos.

 

“I’ve been waiting so long to finally see you, Targon Karashi,” the figure said.

 

“Who are you?” Targon repeated.

 

“Can’t figure it out?” the figure sat up and stared at him with unseen eyes behind a skull mask that seemed to weep blood. “I’m the one who’s been so eager in finding you.”

 

“You’re the one that’s been sending all the Sith and bounty hunters after me?” Targon growled.

 

The figure nodded. “Yes, and amazingly, none of them have been successful. It is astounding how completely they’ve failed me…or how powerful you truly are.”

 

“What do you know of me?”

 

“Not enough,” the figure shrugged. “I’m eager to know more. Now, however, we can get to know each other quite well. You see, Succuba is within you now.” He pointed to the scar on Targon’s neck. “And I am within Succuba…and so in you.”

 

“Who are you?” Targon asked.

 

“It is well that you fear me, young Jedi,” the figure laughed. “I am Lord Viruul. There is much that we shall accomplish, you and I. But first, you must learn to fear me, and then to obey me.”

 

“Never!” Targon shouted.

 

The Sith Lord laughed. “You will no doubt resist,” he nodded. “And it is good that you show your strength in doing so. But you will fail, Targon. You will be mine.”

 

Then everything faded away, and he found himself back on the ship, sitting next to Rick.

 

The captain was shaking him. “Hey!” he exclaimed. “Are you okay?”

 

Targon glanced around and then he nodded. “I’m fine…” he replied. “Must have…lost my strength for a moment.”

 

Rick nodded, not quite understanding. “Well, I just decoded the last bit and I know where Sorgal’s being held.”

 

“Where?”

 

Rick’s face was grim, and his eyes showed fear. “Corellia.”

 

Targon’s eyes widened. “Does that mean…?”

 

“We don’t know for sure,” Rick shook his head. “But I’d be willing to bet on it. This is, however, the one time I hope that I don’t collect on that gamble.”

 

Targon sighed. “We don’t have a choice…if Quinn has Sorgal…we need to get him back."

 

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Rick frowned. “But I said I’d do what I could, didn’t I? And I’m a man of my word.”

 

Targon nodded and sat back in the seat. He felt himself trembling.

 

He knew who the enemy was, now…but that only made him more afraid.

 

 

Conclusion of Episode Thirteen

 

 

[TargonKarashi]

 

Episode Fourteen – True Colors

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

Despite the familiar niceness of the planet Corellia, the crew of the Lone Eagle felt only grim dread as they landed on one of the docking pads in Coronet City. They all remembered the darker elements of the city dwelling deep below the surface.

 

“So,” Greyhawk sighed. “Any idea where we start looking for Sorgal?”

 

“Well, we can’t go knocking on Quinn’s associates,” Rick grumbled. “We don’t even have proof he’s the one that has him.”

 

“And they’ll probably shoot us instead of talk to us,” Gabrielle added.

 

“True enough,” Rick nodded.

 

“What do we do then?” Targon asked.

 

A dock worker walked up to them. In his hands he held a datapad.

 

“Excuse me,” he said softly. “This is the ship, The Lone Eagle, is it not?”

 

“It is,” Rick nodded.

 

“Good,” the man hurriedly handed them the datapad. “This was left for you.”

 

“Umm…thanks,” Rick glanced at it as the man scurried off.

 

“Well,” Gabrielle folded her arms. “That wasn’t subtle at all.”

 

“It probably isn’t supposed to be,” Greyhawk stated.

 

“What’s it say?” Targon asked.

 

Rick studied the text on the datapad. “There are a set of coordinates on a map…and a message. It says, ‘Bring the money here and you’ll be reunited with your old friend.’ That’s odd…Sorgal’s not exactly an old friend.”

 

“It might mean someone else,” Targon suggested. “Or it might be a misunderstanding. Regardless, let’s go.”

 

They followed the coordinates on the map to a large area of warehouses. They were all rusted, old, and falling apart. A few vagrants huddled in the shadows of the buildings.

 

The message pointed out one warehouse in particular. Walking inside, they found the entire place completely empty.

 

Except for Sorgal tied up to a chair in the middle of the room.

 

He didn’t look very happy to see them. He glared at them with angry eyes, and he shouted something at them, but it was muffled by the gag in his mouth.

 

They hurried across the floor and gathered around him. Rick untied his bonds from the back as Targon took the gag from his mouth.

 

Sorgal sucked in a deep breath and spat. “What are you doing here? Don’t you know it’s a trap?!”

 

“Of course we know it’s a trap,” Rick sighed. “That’s why we came armed.”

 

“It won’t matter,” Sorgal said as he rubbed his wrists once they were free. “Come on, let’s just get out of here…”

 

The door opened to the warehouse and a troupe of policemen walked in.

 

“Hold it right there!” the lead officer shouted. “You are under arrest.”

 

“For what?” Gabrielle asked.

 

“Put your hands upon your head and kneel on the ground slowly,” another officer ordered.

 

“And drop your weapons,” the first officer added.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Rick sighed. “What’s this about?”

 

“Kidnapping and holding a man for ransom,” the policeman replied. “We got a tip about this place, and here we find you caught in the act.”

 

“We weren’t kidnapping!” Targon shouted. “We were rescuing!”

 

“Save it for your lawyer,” the police said as they approached to put cuffs on them.

 

Xana’s eyes suddenly went wide.

 

“What’s wrong?” Targon asked softly as he saw her concern.

 

“He’s here…” she gasped. “He’ll kill us all…”

 

“Who?”

 

Part of the roof shattered and a shadow of movement dropped down. The police drew their weapons, but they couldn’t see anything through the cloud of smoke and dust that filled the warehouse.

 

The group was about to take this moment to run, but they suddenly found themselves all bound together by a steel cable. They couldn’t move, they couldn’t break free…all they could do was watch…

 

…as the first police officer was lifted into the air, blood trickling from two wounds in his chest.

 

Then he dropped, and the next man was cut down by a slash to his abdomen.

 

The rest of the troupe started shooting all over the place, unable to see what was attacking them. One by one, they dropped dead, and their blood painted the floor of the warehouse.

 

When the last man dropped to the ground, the room was silent.

 

And then slow, heavy footsteps approached the tied up group. They couldn’t see anyone or anything…except for the growing trail of blood footprints getting closer.

 

A surge of electricity erupted as the form of a giant appeared. Now they could see the heavily armed, thickly clad, brooding person that they all knew from experience before.

 

Apparently, even Xana knew who he was.

 

“And here’s the merry little band, all together again,” the giant chuckled. Then he turned his glance to the Falleen. “And what’s this? Looks like I’ve caught a bonus in my net. How are you Xana? It’s been a while.”

 

She said nothing, her fear bound her tongue.

 

The giant laughed. “I don’t care if you won’t talk to me, but there’s someone who’s eager to see you all. Let’s not keep him waiting, shall we?”

 

He dragged the bundle of prisoners across the bloody floor to the hole he had come through. Then he fired a grappling cable up and pulled himself and them up to the roof.

 

There he had a large speeder waiting. He threw the group in the back seat after relieving them of their weapons. Then he climbed into the front and took off.

 

“I’ve got to admit,” the Phantom glanced back at them. “You made it a lot easier than I thought. Even with the unexpected visitors.”

 

“What? You mean they weren’t your guys?” Rick asked.

 

“Why kill your own men?” Greyhawk asked.

 

The Phantom growled and turned back to driving, saying no more.

 

“I don’t think they were his guys,” Xana said simply.

 

“Could have fooled me,” Sorgal grumbled. “It was awful convenient and coincidental when they showed up just as you freed me.”

 

“So much for freeing you,” Rick growled. “Now we’re all caught. Hey, Jedi, why don’t you just call your weapons to you and get us out of this mess?”

 

Targon, Xana, and Sorgal all gave him a look, as the Phantom chuckled and glanced back at them again.

 

“They’re not as stupid as you, Rick,” the giant stated. “And I’m not stupid either. You try anything and you’ll be kissing the pavement.”

 

“Aren’t we wanted alive?” Gabrielle asked.

 

“Either way works,” the large bounty hunter shrugged.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Two

 

They were kept in a dark room for a long time. No light, no visits, and no food. They couldn’t tell the time as it passed. They had absolutely no idea if it was the same day or three days later.

 

And then a door opened, and in walked the Phantom.

 

“They’re ready to see you now,” he stated.

 

“They?” Rick glanced up at him, blinded by the new light. “Who’s ‘they’?”

 

The Phantom grabbed him and brought him to his feet. “Come along. All of you.”

 

They filed out the door, one by one. Three armed guards led them through the cold hallway. The Phantom followed behind them, casting his grim shadow over their heads.

 

It was a long walk, and they saw no signs of daylight, or other prison cells, or anything but blank metal walls and simple carpeting on the endless path ahead.

 

Finally, they came to a door. They were led in, finding themselves in a large audience chamber. Rows of seats spread upwards in this circular room, and armed guards stood at the ready all around.

 

“Not this again,” Xana sighed.

 

“How do you know what’s going on?” Targon inquired.

 

She shook her head. “I ran into Lycos Quinn many years back, when I was a new Jedi Knight. He had me in a place like this…had me fight his guards until I consented to work for him.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“I was able to escape,” Xana replied. “And I gave him something to thank him for his hospitality.”

 

“And what was that?” Rick asked.

 

“A scar over his eye.”

 

“Oh!” Gabrielle smiled. “So you’re the one that gave him that.”

 

“Yes, she was,” a voice called down to them.

 

They looked up and saw Lycos Quinn standing in one of the rows high above them. He was dressed in his typical finery – and he wasn’t alone.

 

“It’s funny the way the world works, isn’t it?” Lycos asked with a smile. “Here I am expecting to have the crew of the Lone Eagle, and I get you too, dear Xana Kalar. Looks like luck is smiling on my business these days.”

 

“Really?” Rick asked. “Better than when we last met?”

 

“Oh yes,” Lycos nodded. “I got the business contracts I wanted, even after your escape. And most of my competition was speedily dealt with.” He paused. “Ah, and I almost forgot…I wanted to thank you all for killing Algayne. It saved me a lot of trouble.”

 

“Always happy to help,” Rick nodded.

 

“He’s a smug one, isn’t he?” someone said next to Lycos.

 

“He always has been,” Quinn nodded.

 

In the dim light, Rick was able to see Lycos Quinn’s companions and their little entourage. A chill of fear ran through him as he recognized them.

 

The one that had spoken was a large black man, bald and strong, leaning on a gilded cane. He wore a white suit, lined with gold. Rick knew it was Ryon Jefe, the biggest drug kingpin in the Core Worlds – and one of the most ruthless businessmen ever.

 

Standing with him was a bounty hunter, a Zabrak that hid his eyes with a visor, but couldn’t hide his air of arrogance. Gabrielle and Greyhawk both seemed to recognize him.

 

Then there was a Hutt that looked almost a spitting image of Gardogga. But that was impossible…Gardogga was dead. Then Rick saw his blind eye and mottled coloring in a single spot on his belly. This was Togga the Hutt, Gardogga’s nephew.

 

With him was the infamous hit man of the Hutt crime cartels – a small man in a re-breather mask and a large, dirty hat. Djehad Nguyen.

 

Apart from them, there was a Twi’lek woman in the finest apparel that money could possibly buy. Her skin was soft pink, and she had gold all about her – bracelets, necklaces, a simple crown, a piercing on her belly button, and foot collars. The only person this could be was Nalia Yunis, the “Queen of the Underworld”.

 

And beside her was a deadly looking assassin droid – bristling with weapons and ready for the kill. Her famous bodyguard, T-100X.

 

Rick hadn’t personally met these people…but he knew who they were all too well. He had dealt with their underlings…and a few he had no doubt slighted.

 

“What’s this all about, Quinn?” Targon asked.

 

“Business, Jedi,” Lycos replied. “Just business.”

 

“What kind?” Gabrielle asked.

 

“Surely you know, don’t you?”

 

“And what’s with them?” Greyhawk inquired. “What’s with the party of criminal scum?”

 

“I don’t like his attitude,” the Hutt rumbled.

 

“Not many do,” Greyhawk sneered.

 

Lycos laughed. “Don’t worry, Togga, their attitude will just make things more interesting.”

 

“Oh, more gladiator games?” Rick growled.

 

Quinn shook his head. “Hardly, Rick. This is the grand auction, and you are the items up for bid.”

 

“What for?”

 

“Come on, Rick, you know plenty well,” a voice called out. It was a familiar voice…one that made his blood run colder than ice. He turned his head and saw a man sitting on the last row, way up high.

 

He had green and brown armor and his face was hidden behind a turban. He was busy cleaning his rifle, and staring down at them with amused eyes.

 

“There will be time for reunions later,” Lycos stated. “But for now, let’s show our guests to their new quarters.”

 

The guards took them and led them out of the chamber, through a different door, and down another cold and dim hall.

 

They came to another room. This was lit, but it definitely wasn’t comfortable. They were chained up to the wall, hanging in much the same way they had been on Algayne’s ship.

 

The Phantom kept a silent but close watch on them, just waiting for anyone to make an attempt to escape. Nobody did. His presence alone was enough to ensure that.

 

After they were securely bound, the Phantom and the guards left. Only two men were left to watch them. One was a Gamorrean brute, and the other was an extremely tall man. He was slim and easily six and a half feet tall. His face was concealed, and he never looked at any of the group in the eye.

 

“Well,” Sorgal growled. “So now we’re all in a lovely situation, aren’t we?”

 

“Your attitude isn’t helping,” Gabrielle stated.

 

“Helping what? Escape?”

 

Rick sighed. “You know…I’m just waiting to see how our situation can possibly get worse than being up for grabs by the worse criminals.”

 

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Xana said. “Things might just go as you suppose.”

 

---

 

A large transport was dropping off hundreds of travelers in the spaceport at Coronet City. Most were refugees from the newly sparked war along the Republic/Imperial border. Others were immigrants coming to look for work in one of the supposedly most prosperous worlds in the Republic.

 

But there were two individuals coming for a very different reason.

 

One was large and thick, covered in a black hood and cloak. He had a re-breather over his lower face, and pale skin. The other was taller, clad in red, and wearing a dull gold mask.

 

They made their way inconspicuously through the crowds of the spaceport and headed out into the wide streets of the city.

 

“So, Hellion,” the taller man growled. “How do you plan to find them on this crowded and populous world?”

 

“Easily,” the other man shrugged. “I know exactly where they are.”

 

“You do, huh?” Vinitar frowned. “And when were you going to tell me about this?”

 

“It’s not important,” Hellion stated. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

 

“Not important?” Vinitar grabbed his shoulder harshly. “Let’s not forget that we are on a Republic world, surrounded by enemies. I am not going to follow you around and hope that you know what you’re doing.”

 

“Watch that tone,” Hellion shrugged Vinitar’s hand off of him. “If you don’t want to come along, that’s fine.”

 

“We have a job to do,” Vinitar snarled. “I’m seeing it through.”

 

“Good to know,” Hellion continued walking. “Soon, you won’t have to worry about this job any longer. It will be done – for both of us.”

 

“You’d better hope so,” Vinitar growled. “For your sake.”

 

“I can best you any time,” Hellion countered. “My master is still alive and on the Dark Council. Yours has been dead for a while now…and he died a broken, sickly man before the entire Empire.”

 

“You’re an insolent bastard, Hellion.”

 

Hellion spun around and thrust a strong finger into Vinitar’s chest. “And you’ll be a dead man, lost and forgotten, if you tempt my anger any longer.”

 

“You overestimate your power,” Vinitar hissed.

 

“We’ll see,” Hellion stated as he continued walking.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Three

 

The group had been hanging in their shackles for nearly an hour before someone finally came in. They had made a couple attempts to get out of the chains, but there was the problem of the cuffs sending an electric shock to everyone when one person struggled against them.

 

So after a few tries, they quit trying that and started pondering on other ideas. No one had said much during that time until the door opened and someone walked in.

 

Rick went pale as the heavily armed man with the turban walked in, chuckling at the sight of six fugitives hanging there so vulnerable.

 

“Well,” he said as he leaned against the opposite wall. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you all in person. All I’ve been able to find is tales of your little…exploits and misadventures.”

 

“Who are you?” Targon asked.

 

“What? You mean Rick hasn’t told you?”

 

Everyone glanced at Rick, who sighed and shook his head. “His name is Shazzar – and he’s one of the deadliest bounty hunters in the galaxy.”

 

“I’m flattered,” Shazzar laughed. “Seems you really haven’t forgotten much after all, Rick.”

 

“Forgotten what?” Greyhawk frowned.

 

Shazzar rubbed his fingers together distractedly. “It’s not my place to tell you something like that. I would have thought Rick had told you…but I guess I figured wrong.”

 

“Those days are long gone,” Rick stated. “What’s the deal, Shazzar? What’s with the big bosses and you here?”

 

Shazzar nodded. “Ah, yes…this nasty business. Well, Rick, it seems you all have made a lot of powerful people mad. And I’m not talking just about the Empire.”

 

“Yeah, we’re not big fans of the criminal culture,” Greyhawk growled.

 

“Undoubtedly,” Shazzar nodded. “And they aren’t fans of you. Fact is, every one of those big shots – and their buddies too – wants a piece of you. And they’re willing to pay Lycos Quinn a whole lot of money to get it.”

 

“How much are we worth?” Rick asked. Everyone frowned at him. “I’m just curious…”

 

“More than you’ve ever been in your life, Rick,” Shazzar replied. “Mr. Jefe wants you, Rick, for botched smuggling jobs in the past. He also wants your Twi’lek friend here for killing a couple of his men.”

 

“It was a bounty job,” Gabrielle growled. “He should be taking out his anger on Quinn…the man who hired me.”

 

“That’s what I’d do, sure,” Shazzar shrugged. “But you’re expendable.”

 

“Quinn already threw me out,” she spat.

 

“And so he has no reservations in selling you to Ryon Jefe.”

 

“What about the others?” Targon asked. “What do they want?”

 

Shazzar gave him a fleeting glance. “Togga wants you, Twi’lek, for killing his uncle.”

 

“I didn’t kill that slime!” Gabrielle snapped.

 

“Quinn says you did,” Shazzar shrugged. “And more importantly, Togga believes it. He also wants the old soldier for his actions on Ord Mantell…and escaping from Gardogga.”

 

“Aw,” Greyhawk growled. “The Hutts just all want a piece of me, don’t they?”

 

“Not something to be proud of,” Shazzar stated. “Unless you don’t mind rancor pits.”

 

“What does that woman want?” Rick asked. “I’ve never met her in my life!”

 

“Who is she?” Sorgal asked. “She’s pretty hot…”

 

“Beautiful and ruthless,” Shazzar nodded. “Nalia is the self-proclaimed ‘Queen of the Underworld’.”

 

“And what makes her think she deserves that title?” Rick asked. “I know a lot of people…”

 

“Rick, Rick…” Shazzar shook his head. “You know plenty well.”

 

“I do?”

 

Shazzar laughed hard. “You can drop the act, Rick. You can’t hide it anymore.”

 

“Hide what?”

 

“Who you are,” Shazzar replied. “Come on, time to spill it. Your friends here are dying to know what you really are. What do you suppose they’ll think of you when they find out? What do you think they’d say?”

 

“Stop it!” Rick shouted. “Those days are long gone! I’ve gone straight!”

 

Shazzar sighed. “I won’t push it anymore, Rick. But you’ll have to come clean soon, or you’ll find yourself alone and unlikable. Nobody wants to trust a person that keeps dark secrets from them.”

 

“What does Nalia want with us?” Targon asked gruffly.

 

“Alright, Jedi, alright,” Shazzar nodded. “She wants you all. The girls – she’ll let them go free. The men, well, they’ve got other uses.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Sorgal hissed. “What sort of woman…?”

 

“She was a slave once, but she got her freedom,” Shazzar answered, cutting him off. “As a Twi’lek, she knew the stereotypes and prejudice that the galaxy saw her kind as. She worked hard, using her talents to become a wealthy woman. She has a fortune both above and below the table. And she has a vendetta to free oppressed women everywhere.”

 

“How do you know so much about her?” Greyhawk asked.

 

“I did a couple jobs for her in the past,” Shazzar scratched his head. “Rick knows, don’t you old pal?”

 

Rick frowned.

 

“Anyway, she’s got most crime rings and businessmen wrapped around her finger. She’s got the looks, the charms, the smarts, and the moves in bed to get everyone to work or deal with her.”

 

“And what good are we to her?” Sorgal asked.

 

“She likes keeping male slaves,” Shazzar shrugged. “You’ll also be profitable to sell to others, perhaps even the competition. She keeps all the bases covered, and she uses every pawn she has available. The pawns, right now, are you all.”

 

“So what are you doing here?” Targon asked. “What’s your play in all this?”

 

Shazzar’s eyes shone with a smile. “The whole crew of the Lone Eagle up for grabs in one spot?” He laughed. “How could I pass it up? While it’s not sporting, at least the job gets done.”

 

“What do you want us for?”

 

“Just you, Jedi,” Shazzar shook his head. “I’m just after you. The others can go free, even Rick, after he double-crossed me.” He winked at the captain.

 

“Me?”

 

“I’ve got a client that’s turning to desperate measure to get his hands on you, Jedi. Don’t ask me why, I just do the job. But what he pays will be twice what I spend here at the auction.”

 

“And that’s it?” Greyhawk scowled. “You just let the rest of us go?”

 

“What is your angle?” Xana frowned.

 

Shazzar sighed. “I’m doing you all a favor – because Rick and I go way back. All I want is you, Targon Karashi. The others will be fine…if you don’t try anything. I won’t let you all be taken by those fat cats. You’re too entertaining to read about in the papers for that.”

 

“How do you know Rick?” Targon growled. “What is this that you keep hinting at? Who are you?”

 

“I am Shazzar, Jedi,” the bounty hunter stated. “And I’m doing a job and making a living. I won’t lie to you and say that this is all business, nothing personal. It’s not. Why don’t you ask Rick about the past he and I share?”

 

He walked out of the cell and closed the door behind him. The guards stood silently, as if they had no idea about the conversation that just transpired.

 

Greyhawk growled. “I suppose we can be expecting more visits like that from the other crime bosses, eh?”

 

Targon looked over to Rick, whose face was grim and solemn.

 

“What was he talking about?” he asked.

 

Rick didn’t answer. He just stared at the floor.

 

“Rick?”

 

“Start talking!” Gabrielle snapped.

 

Rick suddenly broke away from his trance of brooding and looked at them as though he were seeing them for the first time. “What?”

 

“What was towel-head yapping about?” Sorgal hissed.

 

They were all staring at him, their eyes inquisitive, confused, and even accusatory. They were in this mess for his sake, he realized.

 

He let out a sad and tired sigh, and then he prepared to lay down the cards.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Four

 

Rick’s face was sorrowful as he conjured up and relayed the memories of the past that he had tried to bury for years.

 

“I was once part of a mercenary kill squad,” he said at last.

 

Shock and confusion flashed on everyone’s face, but no one spoke. They waited until they would hear it all.

 

“As an orphan on the streets of some city world, I forget where, I started as a simple thief. Every day was stealing a bit of food or some change…and then I joined a gang and got involved with the turf wars waged eternally in the ghettos.

 

“I worked my way up – first as a scout, then a fighter…I killed my first time at a rumble with the bosses of the town. I killed their best man.

 

“Just so happened,” he continued, “a crime lord’s muscle was around, looking for new meat. They saw the fight, and without a word they dragged me off to meet their boss. As it turned out, the man was a retired bounty hunter called A’kasa.

 

“He trained dozens of hunters and killers, and he was always looking to recruit more. He found young boys off the street and put them to the test. Those that didn’t make it either died or were sold off as slaves.

 

Rick paused as he shuddered; thinking about what sort of lives those boys had to endure. But in retrospect, he wondered if their lives had been the better ones.

 

“As things got on, I became one of A’kasa’s favorites. The other one was a young man a little older than me. His name was Shazzar. A’kasa soon had us doing the bigger jobs. Shazzar was the bounty hunter that charged headlong against the boss’ enemies…and I was the getaway, the backup, and sometimes the knife from the back.

 

“Shazzar and I got real good at what we did. We mastered everything A’kasa had to teach about fighting, tracking, and killing. We got it in our heads we didn’t need the old bounty hunter anymore.

 

“So we struck out on our own. We made a fortune doing a job for an Exchange boss. With the money, we split it even…Shazzar bought himself his armor…I bought my first ship.

 

“We were freelance, and we went all over the place. We’d work for one crime boss and then the next job would be for his rivals. But then…things were getting less interesting.

 

“Shazzar went off on his own…working for some Hutt that he eventually killed. I found myself working smuggling and piracy jobs for a strange man. He wasn’t a criminal mastermind…at least, he didn’t seem like one. He just got a crew together and sent them out on jobs.

 

“My crew wasn’t too bright. One by one, they got picked off by idiocy faster than I could replace them. Someone that our boss had us doing these jobs against was hitting back. Turned out it was a man named Ryon Jefe.

 

“I didn’t want any trouble with a drug lord, so I went to my employer and threatened to quit unless I was allowed a larger cut and more access to his circle. He revealed himself to by Lycos Quinn, and he gave me what I wanted.

 

He stopped for a second. “So you can see how everyone seems to know me, right?”

 

Shaking his head, he went on. “Lycos got me into doing harder jobs, the kind that if you got caught, you’d rather get killed than be put in jail. He got me a new crew – a half-wit guy named Munis; his son, a fiery teen named Valens; and a woman named Jolli. She was a doll, but she was a killer too.

 

“We hit banks on Muunilist, transported slaves to Sleheyron and Kessel, and smuggled weapons to Quinn’s allies on Hutta. The pay was huge, and it got bigger with every successful job.

 

“I was trying to save it, at first…I wanted to become one of those fat cats that Quinn was battling. He was inspiring, the way he came from nowhere and was shrewdly becoming the biggest boss in the Core Worlds.

 

“But then…Ryon Hefe’s boys made a move. I left Munis on the ship for a while…the rest of us were taking care of business with a turncoat. They came to the ship…and Munis thought it was his son. They killed him and took the ship.”

 

Rick gave a sad smile then. “That’s the story I told you before, Targon, if you remember.”

 

“So you’re a crook,” Sorgal shrugged. “So what?”

 

“There’s a lot more,” Rick sighed. “We were stuck for a while…but then Shazzar showed up. He had become a successful hunter…but nobody had seemed to hear of him. He offered to help me out, and of course I accepted.

 

“With Valens and Jolli, we hit one of Hefe’s storehouses. We destroyed all the merchandise…and killed everyone. There was a ship – an X-5 Defiant. It was Hefe’s newest smuggler ship, called the Midnight Owl. We took it, repainted and renamed it. Jolli called it the Bird of Prey.

 

“At Shazzar’s behest, we didn’t go back to Quinn. He told us about other jobs…better jobs. Jobs for Black Sun, the Hutts, and the Empire.

 

“Jolli was all for it, and I was…close with her. Valens had hesitations, but when I signed on, he followed.

 

“They were bloody jobs – tasks that required a lot of killing and maiming. The crime lords and the Empire had plenty of people to kill. Ambassadors, malcontents, businessmen, senators, governors, soldiers, officers, and…Jedi.

 

“Shazzar found Jedi to be a great challenge…and the pay for their heads was enormous from certain people. Jolli loved it too, she loved the idea of killing those warrior monks that had such ‘special powers’. I…I liked the work too.”

 

He took a deep breath.

 

“Most of all, I liked working with Jolli. Shazzar was a friend, and Valens was a smart kid…but Jolli…she was something else. Fierce and ruthless and strong…especially in bed.

 

“Then came the job…the job that changed everything. I don’t remember the planet…but it was a burgeoning colony of several hundred…or thousand. There was a Jedi that was trying to take down the criminal enterprises in the Outer Rim. I don’t know…he had some sort of vendetta going.

 

“Anyway, we were tasked to get rid of him. Our first step was to get him there…to draw him to a place where it would be easy to take him down. The best place was the colony’s power plant.

 

“We killed the guards, the workers…anyone that got in our way. Then we waited until the Jedi came. He didn’t come alone, though. He had a squad of troopers with him. They were ready to arrest us…or kill us, if necessary.

 

“There was a firefight. Things weren’t going well…we underestimated the Jedi. Shazzar sent me to get the ship. I was to be ready to get us out of there once the job was done…I didn’t understand what sort of idea it was…not yet, anyway…

 

“Valens was taken by one of the soldiers and dragged away. I never saw him again after that…there wasn’t time to look. I saw from afar what happened then…

 

“The Jedi cornered Jolli. She was ready to fight, but he didn’t want to continue. He was trying to negotiate with her, yet in her arrogant self-confidence she wouldn’t hear any of it.

 

“So he got into her mind, trying to use some Force trick or something. She fought against him, tried to shoot him…and then she snapped. The Jedi kept pushing, trying to stop her…and she couldn’t get him out of her head. The only way was…”

 

He stopped as he fought back a tear of forgotten pain.

 

“She put her gun to her head and pulled the trigger.”

 

There was a long silence.

 

“After that, Shazzar enacted his plan – to blow the power plant and everyone in it. He made it to the ship just in time, and we flew off, still drunk with the shock of the confrontation.

 

“The explosion was worse than expected,” Rick said slowly, painfully. “Shazzar expected a low yield…to collapse the building and kill the Jedi with his companions. But it was stronger…and the blast followed the fuel lines through the colony.

 

“That was when something in me just snapped…and I decided to stop this madness. Killing wasn’t what I wanted – after seeing hundreds die in a single instant.

 

“When Shazzar went to collect, I took off and headed for the Outer Rim. I painted the ship and gave it a new name. And I didn’t keep anyone with me this time.

 

“I turned to gambling, light smuggling, and a few charlatan schemes…until I couldn’t handle crime anymore. Too many people were on my trail…Algayne, Gardogga, and others…”

 

He stopped, suddenly short of breath and strength.

 

“So you decided to go straight,” Greyhawk finished for him.

 

Rick nodded, a few tears burning their way down his cheeks and along his scruffy chin. “I…I didn’t want any of you to know…especially you, Targon.”

 

Targon was finding it hard to breathe, and even harder to grasp what all he had heard. But he didn’t have time to say anything, as the door opened.

 

“Aw, having a happy little bonding moment?” the arrogant Zabrak mocked.

 

“What do you want?” Gabrielle hissed.

 

“The dealing’s done,” he smirked. “Hefe won the greater part of you, especially you, Rick…and you too, Twi’lek.”

 

“What does he want with us, then?” Targon asked.

 

“Not you, Jedi,” the Zabrak spat. “Quinn was waiting for another contender to place a bid before you were sold. But say goodbye to your buddies, Jedi. Quinn wants you up front so the client can see you well.”

 

“And us?” Greyhawk growled.

 

“Well,” the Zabrak scratched his chin. “Hefe and I will be back to collect you, but the green girl and the old man will be staying. Nalia and Togga bought you two. As for you, Twi’lek,” he grinned. “You’ll be coming with me.”

 

“What for?” Gabrielle growled menacingly.

 

“You’d best watch your attitude, schutta,” the Zabrak growled back. “No girl gives Hel Katarn attitude.”

 

“Too bad, I just did.”

 

“Well, I’ll be breaking you of it, don’t worry.”

 

He snapped his finger and the guards took Targon and Gabrielle down and dragged them out the door.

 

Both of them gave Rick a final glance before they were taken down separate halls.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Five

 

Hellion and Vinitar walked into a large open square in a poor immigrant district. There was nobody about, and the windows were all shuttered up.

 

“What is this?” Vinitar growled. “Someone know we were coming?”

 

“Fool,” Hellion shook his head. “This is where the people from the warzones come and live…and with crime at an all time high these days, they don’t like to come out of their apartments much.”

 

“How do you know so much about Republic worlds?” Vinitar asked.

 

“It’s not something you need concern yourself with.”

 

“You’ve been saying that an awful lot recently,” the taller man frowned. “It’s almost as if…”

 

Three large men emerged from different areas across the square. One was a towering Togorian with black and gray fur. The shaggy hair fell over his black suit of armor. In his paw he held a large blaster pistol, and his feline face gave a nasty snarl.

 

The second man was a Nosaurian with brown scales the color of mud, and just as dull too. There was a nasty scar across his snout. His claws gripped an old-style blaster rifle, and from his belt dangled three human skulls.

 

But it was the last man that had the worst look. He was a large and muscular Nautolan with dark blue skin. One eye was brown, but the other was a cybernetic with a red lens. An ugly scar ran down his face, and half of his head tails were missing or damaged. His right arm was cybernetic, all the way to his shoulder. In its prosthetic hand was gripped a vibroblade.

 

They each walked forward, closing the distance between them and the Sith Lords.

 

“What’s this now, Hellion?” Vinitar asked. But his eyes shown with a rage that told he had an idea what was going on.

 

“Just a little something that you need not concern yourself with,” Hellion shrugged and walked towards the bounty hunters.

 

“Is this some sort of sick joke?” Vinitar hissed.

 

Hellion glanced at him with his burning eyes. “I don’t joke, Vinitar. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

 

“Then what…?”

 

“There are countless reasons,” Hellion growled. “I don’t have the patience to list them all. Suffice to say…why share the glory and reward when it can all be yours?”

 

“So you hired bounty hunters?”

 

“A fitting end to the Heretic’s apprentice,” Hellion smirked.

 

“I thought you said you could take me yourself,” Vinitar said as he activated his twin sabers.

 

Hellion nodded, “I can.” Then he pointed to the fierce and silent Nautolan. “So can he.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“Let’s find out.”

 

The Nosaurian and the Togorian both fired their guns. Vinitar blocked the lasers and then moved to attack.

 

That was when the Nautolan crossed blades with him. The two struck at each other, but neither broke the other’s defenses.

 

The other two kept shooting, causing Vinitar to divide his attention.

 

In a rage, he kicked the Nautolan and charged at the others. But then he felt a vise grip on his ankle and pull him to the ground. It was the Nautolan.

 

His cybernetic hand squeezed tighter, until Vinitar could almost hear the bones in his foot break.

 

He roared in fury. “I am Sith!”

 

Hellion laughed in reply. “No, you are dead.”

 

The Nautolan lifted him up by the leg and hurled him into one of the ghetto buildings. Vinitar crashed through the boards on the window, then through the glass itself, and then through the weak wood floor.

 

With a snarl, the Nosaurian activated a thermal detonator and threw it into the building after him.

 

A few seconds later, the entire structure lit up in flame and smoke.

 

Hellion smiled behind his mask, nodding with approval.

 

“Well, that was easier than I thought,” he shrugged. “Good work, gentlemen.”

 

“When do we get paid?” the Togorian asked gruffly.

 

“We don’t work for free,” the Nosaurian nodded.

 

“You’ll get paid when our business here is done,” Hellion replied annoyed. “I’m going to Quinn’s estate now to deal with the last bit. You all wait, and I’ll pay you when I return.”

 

“What good is the word of a Sith?” the Nautolan folded his arms.

 

Hellion laughed. “Look at it this way – I won’t run out on you. You’ll either get a pile of credits by the end of the day, or you’ll get my saber through your chest.”

 

“Awful confident for a Sith,” the Togorian growled. “Especially after we just killed your companion.”

 

Hellion’s eyes glared at them. “Understand two things, bounty hunters. First, I am more powerful than Vinitar was. Second, I had him killed without a second thought…and I actually liked him a little. The same cannot be said for you three.”

 

With that, he walked off, leaving the bounty hunters glaring at him until he was gone from sight.

 

---

 

Targon was brought in to a dining room, where the several crime bosses were in the midst of a large banquet. Serving droids went to and fro, bringing new dishes in and taking away the old ones.

 

The obese Hutt sat back and let slaves spoon the food into his expecting, eager mouth. He licked his lips sloppily, and occasionally got a slave girl’s hand as it poured his meal into his jaw. He smiled at that, and at her humble subservience.

 

Jefe had two slave girls at either side of him, handing him his utensils and his glass of wine when he called for them. If they were slow in response, he rapped them harshly with his cane.

 

The Twi’lek woman glared at them both while she ate, obviously disgusted at their use of slaves for dining. She ate slowly and regally, only occasionally trying to avert her eyes to something more pleasing.

 

Quinn sat at the head of the table, conveying every type of table manners and civility that could possibly be expressed. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and smiled as Targon was brought in.

 

“Ah, and here’s the most valuable piece of them all,” he said. “How have you found our accommodations, Jedi?”

 

Targon made no reply, just stared at the lot of them. Inside, he was disgusted with their display. Then he caught a glimpse of Shazzar sitting by the window, lazily fiddling with a dagger.

 

The sight of him made him recall what he had just learned about Rick. It was odd. Now he was seeing this man in a different light…though the knowledge of this man’s killing of hundreds was sickening.

 

“I can understand your reluctance to speak,” Quinn nodded, taking a sip of wine. “After all, we didn’t exactly have you brought here through a kindly invitation. However…sometimes business requires things to be a little more direct.”

 

Jefe glanced up at the Jedi. “So you’re the young man that happens to be one of the most wanted people to the Empire, eh? You don’t strike me as that special.” His accent was thick with culture.

 

“What’s it matter what he looks like?” the Hutt rumbled. “What matters is he’s worth a lot. I could make quite a profit by selling him to the Empire.”

 

Nalia rolled her eyes at them both. “He’s a handsome one, that’s for sure. He’d be a good man for presenting and hosting.”

 

“Of course that’s all you think about,” Togga laughed. “That and what’s beneath his robes.”

 

“You’re a fat and despicable slug, you know that?” Nalia hissed.

 

“Not as much as my uncle, rest his soul,” Togga growled. “Pity that the wench that killed him is going to you, Jefe.”

 

“If you can’t pay the money, you shouldn’t bid,” the black man shrugged.

 

“Gentlemen, please,” Quinn sighed. “There’s no need for arguing at the table, especially in front of the guest.”

 

“What do you want with us?” Targon asked. “Why all this? Why can’t you just leave us alone?”

 

Togga and Jefe laughed. Their servants and employees in the room laughed as well.

 

“Are you so naïve, boy?” the short mercenary in the hat asked from Togga’s side. “No one gets to be left alone when they’ve crossed the big bosses and messed with their business.”

 

The droid beside Nalia perked up, “Observation: It appears the Jedi is unaware of the true extent of his actions to the Firm and its associates.”

 

Quinn nodded, “Indeed so.” He turned his eyes to Targon. “Do you know who your friend Rick Orlan is?”

 

“Yes,” Targon nodded. “He told us before you dragged me here.”

 

“Did he now?” Shazzar looked up at him. “He told you all of it?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did he tell you that he has botched and ruined many business deals and ventures of every person in this room?” Quinn asked. “Togga, Jefe, Nalia, me…he’s even swindled and broken the hearts of the servants and slaves and employees.”

 

“That sounds like him,” Targon nodded.

 

“He’s also the reason you are here,” Shazzar stated. “He’s been selling you out. The Empire knows about you because of him…and I’ve been tracking you thanks to him.”

 

“No, that’s not right,” Targon shook his head angrily.

 

“You’ve only seen his side of things,” Shazzar shrugged. “On the ride back to Dromund Kaas, you and I will have lots to discuss.”

 

“Now hold on, Shazzar,” Quinn raised a hand. “You haven’t won the bid for the Jedi yet. And chances are you won’t once the last man arrives.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“I know so,” Quinn nodded. “That is, unless you are willing to hand over that squealing informant Alen Heigren over to me in exchange for the Jedi.”

 

Shazzar shook his head. “Sorry, Lycos. He’s under my protection now…I don’t want you doing anything…unpleasant…to him. He is a friend, after all.”

 

“Like Rick is?” Targon asked.

 

Shazzar cocked his head. “Exactly.”

 

The door opened and Lycos stood. “Ah, and here’s our final guest now!”

 

Everyone turned to look at the new arrival. Targon felt the dark presence and his knees started getting weak. He glanced over and saw Darth Hellion enter.

 

The Sith Lord nodded to Quinn. “I am grateful for your hospitality, Mr. Quinn. However, let us get right to business and spare the pleasantries.”

 

“As you wish,” Lycos said.

 

Shazzar was on his feet, his hands clenched into fists. “You didn’t say you were inviting Sith here, Lycos.”

 

“Didn’t I?” the crime lord laughed. “I thought I mailed you the guest list last week. Oh well…”

 

“You cheated me out of the whole group,” Shazzar hissed. “And now you’re going to cheat me out of the Jedi alone?”

 

“I haven’t cheated anyone,” Quinn frowned. “Lord Hellion, here, just happens to have the payment ready right away. And he’s willing to pay quite a bit more than you, bounty hunter.”

 

Targon frowned. “What will happen to the rest of my friends?”

 

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” Hellion growled. “Not for you.”

 

Jefe smiled. “Well, I know that Rick will be enjoying his life in the mines of Kessel by the end of the week. As for the girl…Katarn’s probably having fun with her right now.”

 

“You’re sick,” Nalia hissed.

 

“Just be glad it isn’t you,” Togga laughed. “After all, it’s all that you Twi’leks are good for, isn’t it?”

 

Nalia rose in anger, her droid reached for its gun. Togga’s mercenary drew his, and other guards were getting ready for a fight. Hellion growled and put his hand on his saber.

 

A door opened, and the Phantom walked in to make his presence known.

 

Targon’s eyes widened when he saw his lightsaber dangling on the giant’s belt. With all the confusion, now was the best chance.

 

He called the lightsaber to his hand.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Six

 

“So,” Sorgal growled. “This whole mess is really your fault, eh, Rick?”

 

“Leave him alone,” Greyhawk glared at him.

 

“Why should I?” Sorgal countered. “His little crime life has led us from one fiasco to the next…and all this time I thought it was just because we were all so popular!”

 

“Don’t you ever drop the attitude?” Xana asked.

 

“No,” Sorgal replied with a smirk. “And this is a good time for attitude. After all, now Targon and Gabrielle were dragged off to who knows where? They might be dead now, and we’ll soon be. Or at least as good as dead. I would rather have shared my master’s fate than to be a servant boy.”

 

Rick said nothing in his own defense. He simply stared at the floor, his face plastered with melancholy and regret. Were it not for the soft breaths he took, and the occasional blink, he might have passed for a dead man.

 

“Well,” Sorgal spat. “I’m not about to sit around and wait to be carted off!” He started fighting against the chains again, and the shocks zapped through everyone.

 

“Stop it!” Xana cried. “It’s not helping! We need to find a different way!”

 

Sorgal didn’t listen to her. Instead, he kept struggling, vainly trying to wrest himself free from the chains, or at least rip them from the wall.

 

It wasn’t working out, and the shocks were getting worse. He had gotten used to it from being a captive for so long.

 

That couldn’t be said for the others. Greyhawk roared and kicked at Sorgal, striking his shin.

 

“That’s enough!” he roared. “You’re hurting the others!”

 

“I don’t really care,” Sorgal stated. “I want out!”

 

“There will be a different way!” Greyhawk practically shouted.

 

The Gamorrean grunted at the disturbance among the prisoners, and he started menacing them with his axe.

 

All of a sudden, the tall guard slammed his hand into the green pig’s neck. The Gamorrean squealed for a second, and then fell limp to the ground.

 

The prisoners stared at him confused.

 

Then the guard took off his outfit and revealed his face. He was a young man with a small braid of hair at the back of his head. He smiled with his blue eyes.

 

“Well folks,” he said as he deactivated the chains and took them down. “Your different way has arrived.”

 

“And who are you supposed to be?” Sorgal asked suspiciously.

 

“The name is Ryner Sanpo,” the young man replied. “I’m a Jedi working with the Corellian authorities to bring down these criminal goons.”

 

“Huh,” Greyhawk nodded slowly, studying the young man. “Can you prove that?”

 

Ryner answered by igniting his green lightsaber. “Convinced?”

 

“Enough,” Xana shrugged.

 

“Now, where’s our stuff?” Sorgal asked.

 

“In that locker,” Ryner pointed to the case. “I’ll check for guards, and then I’ll contact the police. We’ll bring this crime party to an end.”

 

“Wait,” Rick said suddenly. “What about Gabrielle?”

 

---

 

Katarn’s breath stunk of alcohol, and he huffed it right in her face.

 

His groping hands were forcefully trying to strip off her clothes.

 

She fought back as hard as she could, but he held her down firmly with both strength and weight against the guest room bed.

 

“Quit fighting,” he growled. “You might actually enjoy it.”

 

“Pig!” she roared.

 

“Schutta!” he spat back at her. “No one takes a kick to my groin and then expects not to get away scot-clean! I’ll have you, little brat. That’s all your race is good for, and Jefe agrees.”

 

His fingers were trying to rip the last of her undergarments off. She could hear the fabrics straining, the fibers coming apart.

 

He slapped her as she struggled again. And then he slapped again, just because he so enjoyed the last one.

 

“I like the sound your skin makes when my hand hits it!” he grinned. “I bet I’ll like the way you moan when I get to it.”

 

Gabrielle hissed and roared, trying to bite his neck and cheek.

 

He pulled back in time and slapped her again. Three times.

 

“Are you an animal or a woman?” he asked. Then he smiled, “I guess with Twi’leks they’re the same thing.”

 

“I’ll kill you!” Gabrielle shouted.

 

Katarn growled. “I don’t take kind to threats, especially from women.”

 

Gabrielle kept squirming, trying to wrench herself free. He kept hitting her the harder she tried.

 

But then she felt her right leg slip out from under his. It was free.

 

Without hesitation, she slammed it up. Her knee struck right where she wanted it to.

 

Katarn yelped and cursed, but the pain caused him to loosen his grip.

 

It was enough.

 

With her strength, she shoved him off her and onto the floor. She leaped off the bed. The thought entered her mind to run…but she decided against it. This worm needed a lesson.

 

She grabbed a chair from the table nearby and slammed it down on him. Then she did it again and again. He roared and grunted with each strike.

 

The chair wasn’t doing it, so she pulled his gun from his own holster and slammed the end of it into his face. She struck him as many times as he slapped her, and then doubled it for added satisfaction.

 

His nose was bleeding and he was wailing for her to stop. He was helpless – his hands tried to come up to protect his face, but she planted her feet on them and pushed down hard.

 

He writhed and roared in anger. He swore at her, tried to spit at her, and promised that he’d kill her and then do what he wanted with her corpse.

 

That only made her hit him more…and harder. Her lips parted, she bore her teeth, and she roared with each time she slammed the gun into his face.

 

“Stop! Please stop!” he finally begged.

 

She stopped, but only to turn the gun around and ready to pull the trigger.

 

“No! NO!” Katarn wailed.

 

Her eyes were deathly cold, and she was set…and then she stopped.

 

“I’m not going to kill you,” she said, her voice cold and fierce. “I’m going to leave you here, drooling and bleeding, so you can tell everyone that a dainty little girl beat the bloody hell out of you.”

 

Then she kicked him in the face to finally knock him out.

 

Gabrielle stood there for a moment, nearly stripped of her clothes entirely. She took several deep breaths to let the fire in her chest cool down.

 

Then she gathered her clothes and put them back on. She smoothed her garments, and then put on her black coat. She needed to find her guns…but she would. She knew this place as well as anyone.

 

Without so much as a second glance, she walked out the door.

 

The hall was empty, and she was grateful for that. She made her way back down towards the holding cell.

 

She was surprised when she found the others just leaving the room. They had their weapons and everything.

 

“Oh, so now you figure out a way?” she growled.

 

Rick’s eyes widened at seeing her. “You…Are you hurt?”

 

“I’m fine, Rick,” she rolled her eyes. “What? You think I can’t take care of myself?”

 

“I…I was just…”

 

“Here are your guns,” Greyhawk threw the pistols to her. “Now we need to go find Targon and get out of here.”

 

Gabrielle glanced at the really tall man. “And this is…?”

 

“Ryner Sanpo,” the man nodded. “I’m not staying, though. I’ve got to get the troops mobilized. We’re taking these criminals down.”

 

“Sounds good,” Gabrielle nodded in reply. “Though, you look ill-equipped.”

 

Ryner shook his head. “I’ve been infiltrating Quinn’s operation for some time, and certain people in Corellia’s government are ready to get him out of here.”

 

“As long as they leave Quinn himself to me,” Gabrielle stated.

 

“Hold on, now, sister,” Xana shook her head. “You need to get in line.”

 

“You’re a Jedi,” Gabrielle smirked. “Your code won’t let you kill Quinn. I’m a bounty hunter…I make my own laws.”

 

“If you two don’t come along,” Sorgal growled, “I’ll kill him myself.”

 

“See you all later,” Ryner saluted and then ran off down the hall.

 

“Any idea where Targon will be?” Greyhawk asked.

 

Rick and Gabrielle both nodded.

 

“It’s dinnertime,” Rick stated. “They’ll be in the dining hall…if they haven’t killed each other yet.”

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Seven

 

No sooner had Targon activated the lightsaber then the shooting started.

 

Guards flooded the room, men of all the bosses. Quinn’s guards shot at Jefe’s and Togga’s. They shot at each other, and no one knew who the enemy was.

 

Djehad Nguyen gunned down T-100X after a brief firefight. He kept himself in front of Togga, protecting his employer for as long as it was profitable.

 

The Phantom charged Shazzar, but the two of them were lost in the crowd.

 

Hellion drew his saber and cut down everyone around him, trying to make his way for Targon.

 

As for Targon himself, he kept a defensive. He wasn’t there to kill anyone, but he had to hold out. The criminals were doing a great job of killing themselves without his help.

 

Nalia herself was unarmed, and she tried to hide beneath the table. Targon moved to stand over her, keeping all shooting away from her. After all, she was defenseless in this chaos.

 

Jefe grabbed his cane and drew a small sword that was hidden within it. With a roar, he charged at Targon and Nalia, with the intent of killing one of his biggest competitors.

 

Targon’s blade intercepted his, and the two clashed amid the storm of lasers. Jefe was strong and well-trained with the blade, but he underestimated Targon’s reflexes and affinity to the Force.

 

With a twirl, Targon disarmed him and held his saber to Jefe’s neck.

 

“Stand down,” Targon ordered.

 

The black man glared at him, but he raised his arms in submission and nodded.

 

But then a red blade stabbed right through him.

 

Hellion pushed the dead drug lord out of the way and attacked. Targon moved to defend. Red blade crashed against green.

 

Even more shooting broke out, as Rick, Gabrielle, and Greyhawk burst into the chamber. At first, they were shocked at the incredible scene, but they soon became targets of the fighting. So they shot back.

 

Sorgal and Xana were at Targon’s side. The three of them crossed blades with Hellion. The Sith Lord was surprised at the Jedi’s reinforcements, and all the more angered.

 

Togga raged when he saw Gabrielle.

 

“Djehad!” he roared. “Kill the schutta that murdered my uncle!”

 

The small man turned his guns on Gabrielle. In response, she dove for cover and then started shooting back.

 

“I didn’t kill that slug!” she shouted. “Quinn did!”

 

“Lies!” Lycos roared from behind his wall of guards. “Never trust a woman who knows how to use a gun!”

 

Rick laid down fire against Djehad, forcing him to abandon his employer.

 

“Where are you going?!” Togga bellowed. “Come back here!”

 

“Not worth it!” Djehad shouted back at him as he found cover.

 

Blaster bolts peppered the giant Hutt, as he was the largest target to hit in the room. The slug gurgled and roared as he died, causing a massive stink in the room.

 

Hellion’s attacks were furious, pushing all three of his opponents back. Targon made sure, however, that he kept Nalia behind him. She scurried along the floor, crawling over the bodies of dead men and trying to look for a place to hide.

 

“Why are we defending her?” Sorgal asked.

 

“Because she doesn’t have any way to defend herself,” Targon replied as he struggled against Hellion’s blade.

 

“Your compassion is your weakness!” Hellion laughed. “Such a typical Jedi.”

 

“Yeah,” Sorgal sneered. “Well I’m not!”

 

With that, he landed a punch into Hellion’s cheek, and then landed a groin kick.

 

Hellion roared in rage, and focused his attacks on Sorgal for his insolence. That gave Xana an opening, and she took it.

 

The Sith’s focus was distracted between the three of them. He couldn’t concentrate on any one of them for long before another came at him from a far different angle.

 

He decided that he wasn’t going to be getting anywhere in this mess of humanity and senselessness. So he sent a wave through the Force to create an opening, and he rushed out.

 

Not many seemed to notice or care about his departure. The shooting kept going. Most of the room was full of the dead or wounded, and the largest force was the crew of the Lone Eagle.

 

Djehad was still keeping behind his cover, and Lycos’ men had been whittled down as they kept him safe.

 

Oddly, the Phantom and Shazzar had disappeared from the fight. They had been at each others’ throats at the beginning, and had taken each other to the ground in a fierce confrontation. Yet now…they were nowhere to be found.

 

Djehad traded fire with Greyhawk and Rick, but he knew he couldn’t hold out for much longer. Instead, he decided to follow the Sith Lord’s path and escape. He made his way out the very same way that Hellion had fled.

 

So now it was just the Lone Eagle crew and Lycos Quinn. Greyhawk gunned down the last of his guards. Now the crime lord was alone.

 

“It’s over, Lycos,” Rick stated, holstering his blasters. “Your little game her has ended.”

 

“Is that what you think?” Quinn laughed. “Do you have any idea what I’m capable of?”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Sorgal sneered as he held his saber to his throat. “Unless you know how to fight like no other, you’re done.”

 

“Guns and blades may not be my strength,” Lycos smiled. “But money is more powerful than anything.”

 

“What?” Sorgal snorted. “You are going to try for a bribe? It’ll take more than credits to make up for what you put me through. I should gut you right here.”

 

“Sorgal! No!” Targon called. “He’s done, let the authorities deal with him.”

 

“Authorities?” Lycos laughed. “I own the authorities!”

 

“Not from what I hear,” Greyhawk smiled. “Looks like certain government officials want you taken down. A Jedi is bringing the police here as we speak.”

 

“Foolish old man,” Lycos shook his head.

 

“Shut it!” Sorgal hissed as he drew the blade closer.

 

A window burst open and police officers stormed into the dining room. They had their guns ready, pointing at everyone, armed or not, standing or wounded.

 

“Hands in the air, now!” the commander shouted. “All of you!”

 

Lycos laughed. “See? It doesn’t matter what a few bureaucrats want. I own the police!”

 

“Hands in the air!” the officer repeated. The other police emphasized his command by taking a step forward, guns ready to shoot.

 

Gabrielle hissed angrily. She took her gun and pointed it at Lycos’ head. “For all the years you used me and then threw me to the wind!”

 

She pulled the trigger.

 

Lycos Quinn dropped to the ground.

 

The police were ready to shoot her.

 

“The boss is dead,” she stated. “Where are you going to get your money from now?”

 

The lead officer scratched his mustache and frowned. “You are all under arrest for the murder of Lycos Quinn and countless others. We’ll get to the bottom of this, mark my words!”

 

Targon and Xana helped Nalia to her feet.

 

“You protected me,” she said, eyes wide. “Why?”

 

“It is the duty of the Jedi,” Targon replied.

 

“Even those that don’t deserve protection,” Xana stated.

 

Targon put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head. She sighed and apologized for her insult.

 

And then they were all put in cuffs.

 

“So much for that Jedi and his promises!” Sorgal laughed as the police cuffed them and dragged them off to the vehicles outside the estate. “Now we’re prisoners…again!”

 

He kept laughing as the officers put him in the vehicle and they were all driven to the station.

 

Conclusion of Episode Fourteen

[RulithBarakis]

There's the Nautolan I've been dying to see! I still love the fact that you brought in fan characters. I have a mix of mad happiness and strangeness go through whenever I see the Nautolan (who's name I will not mention since it'll be revealed in the next Episode, anywas) appear, especially since I'm not used to seeing the character used by someone else.

 

Anyways, this Episode has always been one of my favorites, though it's a biased opinion since it's the first Episode that a character I created appears and then throws a Sith like it's nothing through a boarded window and then the weak floor on the other side.

 

I eagerly await the next episode!

[TargonKarashi]

Episode Fifteen – Heroes Die Hard

 

Chapter One

 

The group was herded through the doors of the large police station. An old woman greeted the officers at the front desk and took notes on the prisoners being brought in.

 

She was impressed by the odd group – two gunslingers, an old soldier, a Sith, a Twi’lek crime boss, and two Jedi.

 

“Well,” she cackled. “Ain’t that a strange coincidence? Wasn’t it a Jedi that called you all in to take down Quinn’s little estate?”

 

“Certainly was,” the officer nodded. “I guess the three of them can share a little cell together and…meditate.”

 

The whole room of policemen erupted into laughter.

 

Then they pushed the lot of them through the doors and into the cellblock.

 

“Now,” the lead officer yawned. “It’s time to find you all some cells. We’re kind of full…Quinn had lots of workers entangled in crime. Good thing they were all nearby to round up.”

 

“Hold up,” Rick nearly shouted. “Why arrest Quinn’s men if you work for him?”

 

A policeman whacked him on the back of the head for that.

 

“You got some nerve,” the officer growled. “We don’t work for criminals. We arrest them.”

 

“Then why are you arresting us?” Targon asked. “We were prisoners of Quinn!”

 

“Maybe,” the officer nodded. “But you also killed him. Murder’s a crime, young man, even if it’s a criminal that’s killed.”

 

“I should have expected all this from the Republic,” Sorgal growled.

 

“Watch your tone,” the officer barked. “I don’t like troublemakers.”

 

“And I don’t like pompous oafs that arrest the wrong people!” Sorgal countered angrily.

 

A policeman made a move to beat him with a club, but Sorgal caught it in his bound hands. He ripped it from the man’s grasp and struck him with it.

 

Other police moved to stop him, but that was when Greyhawk, Gabrielle, and Rick joined in. It wasn’t long before they had taken down all the officers around them.

 

Prisoners in their cells started shouting to release them, but went disregarded.

 

“Time to get out of here,” Sorgal stated.

 

“Wait,” Xana shook her head. “What about Ryner? If he was arrested…we need to get him out of here too.”

 

“We don’t have time for that,” Sorgal growled. “Any moment now the police will be coming down on us for an escape attempt. We need to make ourselves scarce.”

 

“Who’s Ryner?” Targon asked.

 

“A Jedi that helped us escape,” Gabrielle answered. “While I’m grateful for his help, Sorgal may be right. The police will be after us…and I’d rather not go to jail again.”

 

“Oh, no you don’t,” Greyhawk stated. “We’re going after Ryner. I know Corellian prsions…”

 

“So do I,” Rick interjected.

 

“Let me finish, boy,” Greyhawk growled. “And I know that the most dangerous prisoners are put on a secondary level, usually in the heart of the station. That’s where they’d keep Jedi, I’d wager.”

 

“Then come on,” Targon said. “Let’s get him before something worse happens.”

 

“Oh yes,” Sorgal grumbled. “Something worse always happens, doesn’t it?”

 

---

 

The old secretary was going through files when she saw a shadow come over her desk.

Glancing up, she saw a large man in a black cloak. His lower jaw was hidden by a re-breather mask.

 

“Can I help you?” she asked.

 

“I’m here to see the prisoners that were recently transferred here,” the man stated. “The Jedi and his accomplices.”

 

“They’re checking in to their cells right now,” the old lady stated. “You’ll have to come by in a couple hours. Tomorrow would be better.”

 

“I need to see them now,” the man persisted.

 

“I’m sorry, sir, but there are rules here. You have to follow them like everyone else.”

 

The man nodded. “Yes, rules…I see.” He shook his head. “I’ll be back.”

 

“Not ‘till tomorrow, you hear?” the secretary barked at him.

 

He ignored her statement and walked outside. The old woman continued with her paperwork for another few moments. Then she saw something approaching the entrance of the station.

 

Looking up, she gasped as a speeder was veering straight for the main doors. It burst through, taking out the doors, the windows, and the walls themselves. It crashed and slid at an enormous speed through, and smashed the front desk with the woman behind it.

 

Then the doors opened up and a Togorian and a Nosaurian emerged, guns blazing. They quickly dispatched the police officers responding to the attack, gunning them down easily.

 

Some policemen grabbed more heavy armor and weapons to engage the intruders. But as they were about to commence firing, something charged through the newly made entrance.

 

It was a Nautolan. Without a word, he punched the first man straight through his gut. His cybernetic arm stuck out bloody from the man’s back.

 

Before the other man could shoot, he pulled a pistol out and put a hole between the officer’s eyes. Then he dropped the messy corpse he still held, wiping off his arm on the dead man’s clothes.

 

Lord Hellion returned into the building as sirens wailed and the bounty hunters finished off the rest of the early response. Behind him came a short man wearing a large hat. The newest addition to his mercenary team.

 

The old secretary’s head barely poked out from the wreckage. She was still barely alive, clinging to life with her frail, bony fingers.

 

Hellion walked over and stooped down to look her in the eye. “Listen up, old hag,” he growled. “When I want something, it’s best you do it.”

 

With that, he kicked the woman’s face in with his thick, armored boot as he stood up straight.

 

“Alright, boys,” he said to the bounty hunters awaiting his instruction. “It’s time to earn your reward. Bring me the Jedi, alive, preferably; and also bring me his friends’ heads.”

 

“Any idea on how to deal with the police response to this attack?” the short man asked. “If I know coppers, they’ll try to rally and stop us…and others will be dispatched from other stations. With special forces in the van.”

 

“I am aware,” Hellion nodded. He turned to the Togorian. “Drago, get the power to this place shut down. I want alarms, security, and everything off.”

 

“Release the prisoners as well?” the feline asked.

 

“Yes,” Hellion replied. “They’ll make good target practice for you all, and obstacles for the Jedi’s escape.”

 

“What do you want the rest of us to do?” the Nosaurian asked.

 

“Boruk,” Hellion pointed to one hall. “Take the north corridor.”

 

The reptile nodded and headed off.

 

“Djehad,” the Sith Lord turned to the short man. “Take the south. Drago will go with you when he’s done shutting down the power.”

 

The man tipped his hat and complied.

 

Then Hellion turned to the large Nautolan. “Relvan, go with Boruk and tear this place apart. I want that Jedi found, and I want his irritating companions dead. That’s what you’re paid for.”

 

Relvan Kirth gave a small, cruel smile of understanding and marched off without a word.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Two

 

They were winding their ways through the unexpectedly long and intricate halls of the police station. All around, prisoners were shouting, taunting, and pleading with them.

 

Down the stairs, they came to the more secluded cells.

 

It wasn’t long before a familiar voice called out to them.

 

“Hey! I’m over here!”

 

They stopped in front of Ryner’s cell. He looked a little battered. It appeared the police roughed him up before locking him up.

 

“How about getting me out?” he asked.

 

Sorgal chuckled. “So, Jedi, how did that whole grand plan of yours work out?”

 

“You’re just lucky I’m in this cell,” Ryner growled, obviously riled at the knowledge of his failed mission.

 

“What happened?” Rick asked. “What happened to getting the police to bring down Quinn? Seems he paid them all off and got us arrested.”

 

“It wasn’t Quinn,” Ryner shook his head. “Someone else bribed them.”

 

“Who?” Nalia asked. “Not many have more money than Quinn had…even I couldn’t bribe the whole Coronet police force.”

 

“I wouldn’t need any money to do what you asked me to do,” Sorgal said smugly. “All a man needs to do is take one good look at you.”

 

“Hey!” Ryner shouted. “Let’s bring this back to getting me out, shall we?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Sorgal shrugged. “I guess I kind of forgot about you.”

 

“You can be sure I won’t forget about you,” the Jedi frowned.

 

“How do we get you out?” Targon asked. “I don’t see a way to unlock this force field.”

 

Ryner pointed to across the hall. “There’s a control panel there. My cell’s number 426…or maybe 427…”

 

“Don’t even know which cell you’re in?” Sorgal smirked.

 

“I’m getting real tired with your attitude, Sith,” Ryner growled.

 

“Just ignore him, he does it for attention,” Greyhawk shrugged.

 

“You get used to it,” Rick added.

 

Targon went over to the panel and started looking for the right number.

 

Suddenly, the lights flickered out and the force fields on the cells disappeared. Backup emergency lights lit illuminated the halls in a dull red glow.

 

“Oh, well,” Ryner nodded. “I guess that works too…”

 

“Not as well as I’d like,” Xana stated as the hall began to fill with the station’s prisoners.

 

Their eyes glared at them in the dark, their teeth bared. Some had the glow of insanity in their eyes, and their fists looked ready to wrap around their necks.

 

“Come here, pretty girls,” a prisoner called.

 

“Let’s get out of here,” Gabrielle hissed. “We need to find our weapons and gear, though.”

 

“They keep all the prisoners’ stuff in the armory,” Ryner pointed. “We’d best get there quick.”

 

As they ran off, some of the prisoners called after them.

 

“Hey, pretty girls! Where’re you going? We just want to be friends here…real good friends.”

 

The shouts and ruckus of prisoners escaping and brawling with each other echoed through the halls and grew louder by the time the group reached the armory.

 

The Jedi found their lightsabers and hooked them to their belts. Rick found his guns, and Gabrielle got hers.

 

Greyhawk found his blaster and knife. Once he had those together, he was about to get ready to leave with the rest of them. But then he paused when something caught his eye.

 

“Oh,” he smiled. “That’s a real beauty right there!”

 

He reached over and picked up the slim and conservative hand cannon. It had two gun barrels – one for rapid-fire blaster bolts, and the other was a small grenade launcher. He gazed at it in awe.

 

“You coming, gramps?” Rick asked.

 

Greyhawk nodded as he grabbed several belts of ammunition and put them around his neck. The weight of the gun felt good in his hand…he hadn’t held something like this for decades.

 

They all headed down the path. The shout of escaped criminals resounded from one hall, so they decided to try a different way to avoid contact.

 

It turned out that the other path wasn’t much better.

 

Down the hall, standing with hands placed on the gun holsters, was Djehad Nguyen. His laugh was muffled behind his mask, but it echoed off the walls from his small frame.

 

“On second thought, maybe getting past dozens of unarmed and crazed criminals doesn’t sound so bad,” Ryner stated.

 

“Head back the other way!” Greyhawk ordered. “I’ll hold him off!”

 

They didn’t need to be told twice. After his command, the old soldier let loose a grenade from his new toy.

 

The explosion rocked the hallway, though the short bounty hunter dove out of the blast radius. As soon as it cleared, he opened fire with his pistols. The corridor was alive with the ambient red glow, and the exchange of lasers below.

 

The group retreated back the way they came, with Greyhawk following in the rear. He walked backwards as he kept firing, putting pressure on Djehad in order to keep him from making a clear shot.

 

They came to the hall. Strangely, it seemed the convicts had moved on from this area. Moving further along, they found where many of the prisoners had all gone.

 

Piles of them lay dead in the corners of where two corridors made a T. Standing at the far end of the hall, holding a smoking barreled rifle, was a snarling and fierce Nosaurian.

 

Dangling from the reptilian’s belt were three bleached and clean skulls – and a new one that was still bloody.

 

“Let’s see which of your heads will be good enough for my collection,” he hissed.

 

Targon’s blade activated, and he held off the flurry of bolts the reptile shot at them.

 

“We need to split up,” Ryner stated. “Draw the bounty hunters apart and we can take them out separately.”

 

“Split up?” Gabrielle gasped. “That’s a stupid plan! We’ll just make ourselves more vulnerable.”

 

“Do all Jedi come up with such reckless plans?” Sorgal asked.

 

“No, just me,” Ryner winked. “But I know what I’m doing! Come on!”

 

“Don’t argue with the man, just do it!” Greyhawk barked. The short man in the hat was coming from the other side.

 

“Where do we go?” Xana asked.

 

Greyhawk fired a grenade into one of the walls, blowing a hole right through it. Past the gap, there was an open cell, and beyond was another hall.

 

“Through there!” Greyhawk shouted. “Now!”

 

Rick, Gabrielle, Nalia, and Sorgal slipped through the hole. The Jedi held off the enemy attacks as they did so.

 

“The rest of you guys,” Greyhawk growled, pointing to the empty hall. “That way!”

 

They obeyed, and he kept up the rear. Soon they, turned a corner and were at ease for the moment as they kept going.

 

Djehad and Boruk met up at the T-intersection.

 

“Which one do we follow?” the Nosaurian asked.

 

The short man growled. “Get in the hole, lizard. I’m after the Jedi.”

 

“The Jedi are mine to kill!” Boruk hissed. “I will add their sabers and their skulls to my belt of trophies.”

 

“You’ll both get nothing if you don’t get moving!” Drago bellowed as he arrived. “One of you pick a way, or that freaky Nautolan will catch them all while you’re standing around arguing!”

 

The two both glanced at the Togorian. Boruk snarled and headed through the hole. Djehad ran down after the Jedi and the soldier, and Drago followed him.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Three

 

Rick and the group with him weren’t quite sure where they were supposed to be going. A couple times they found themselves going in circles, running into the same escaped inmates over and over again until they could almost remember their names.

 

Eventually, they found themselves in the solitary confinement area. Oddly enough, the cells here remained operational.

 

Things were quiet except for a light, rhythmic patter from within one of the cells.

 

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Gabrielle asked.

 

“I don’t even know if we’re going the wrong way,” Rick replied. “This place is a mess and a joke!”

 

“Finally,” Sorgal smiled. “Something we can agree on.”

 

“You know, I thought the intent was for us to get out of this mess?” Nalia sighed. “Not get deeper into it. This is solitary confinement…the exit is nowhere near here!”

 

“Look, lady,” Sorgal growled. “You’ll do yourself a favor if you keep your mouth shut. You’re a criminal, and while Targon might have the crazy notion of keeping you alive, I don’t share the boy’s sentiments.”

 

“Watch it, Sith,” Gabrielle hissed. “You don’t try anything while we’re around.”

 

“We’re supposed to be working together!” Rick moaned in frustration.

 

“Is that voice who I think it is?” someone asked from within one of the high-security cells. “Could it possibly be Captain Orlan?”

 

Rick’s eyes widened. He walked over to the cell from which the voice originated and peered in.

 

A young man was sitting on the stiff cot. He had a ball in his hands which he bounced off the wall and caught lazily.

 

He was as young as Targon, and he had a slight goatee. His eyes shone with youthful arrogance, and his light brown hair had grown long and unkempt.

 

There was a wide brimmed hat hanging on the wall beside the bed, and a dark leather jacket. Scratched all over the walls were tally marks, odd poems, and an unfinished picture of someone.

 

The man looked up at Rick. “Ah, so it is you, you rotten scoundrel!”

 

Rick gasped. “Valens?”

 

The young man stood and laughed. “And you’re still wearing that red jacket of yours? My word! You swore you’d always be a scoundrel as long as you wore that jacket. How come I haven’t seen you in here with me?”

 

Rick couldn’t reply…he was still so astonished.

 

He had gotten older, but Rick could still tell that this was the same boy he had worked with several years ago. He still looked as fiery, and he still had his teenage swagger.

 

But he had definitely toughened up from being in prison.

 

“What…?” Rick gasped. “What are you doing here, boy?”

 

“Boy? I’m a grown man now!” Valens folded his arms and pouted. “You might not have seen me for eight years or whatever…but you didn’t expect me to still be fifteen, did you?”

 

Rick shook his head. “What are you doing in this cell?”

 

“Well,” the man scratched the back of his head. “After I was caught on our little…assignment…I was paroled and put back on the streets. And then, after a few…misunderstandings…I was arrested again.”

 

“What for?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Valens replied. “The judge said something like…bombing an old schoolhouse.”

 

“What?”

 

“Just kidding,” the young man grinned. Remarkably, he still had all his teeth…and they were clean. “Just for gun trafficking and getting lost in the wrong crowds. Folks found me to be a scrapper so they’ve had me in solitary for…three months now? That long?”

 

“Well, Rick, this is a real nice reunion for you,” Sorgal growled. “But we need to be going. Now.”

 

“Hold up,” Rick stated. “Valens, can we get you out of there? How come this cell’s working but all the others are down?”

 

“Solitary confinement runs on a different generator,” Valens shrugged. “It’s in some safe place way underground so folks can’t release the really dangerous convicts.”

 

“Can we shut this cell down?”

 

“Sure,” Valens nodded. “I’ve memorized the code to deactivate the cell. It’s one-beta-nine-six-five.”

 

“If you know it,” Sorgal rolled his eyes. “Why haven’t you gotten out?”

 

“Because the panel’s on the other side of the door,” Valens answered.

 

“Just a sec, I’ll get you out,” Rick stated. He punched in the code and then the cell powered down.

 

Valens put on his jacket and hat and stretched as he exited his cozy little cell. “Ah,” he yawned. “It feels nice to get out after a while.”

 

“Enjoy your freedom while you can, kid,” Sorgal stated. “We’ve wasted enough time as it is. They’ll be here soon.”

 

“Who?” Valens asked.

 

“Bounty hunters,” Gabrielle replied. “They’ve stormed the station.”

 

“Looking for you?” Valens frowned. “If I had known that, I would have stayed in my cell.”

 

“There’s still time,” Sorgal suggested.

 

“No, I don’t think there is,” Nalia stated as she pointed to the entrance of the cell block.

 

A hulking figure filled the doorway. It was a Nautolan with dark blue skin and a glowing red eye. His right arm opened and clenched with its cybernetic parts.

 

“You got a gun, kid?” Rick asked Valens.

 

“Convicts aren’t allowed weapons,” the boy replied. “Wait…I have a ball…”

 

“Take one of mine,” Rick handed him a pistol. “Still know how to use one?”

 

“How could I forget?” Valens winked.

 

Wordlessly, the Nautolan charged at them. In response, Rick, Gabrielle, and Valens opened fire.

 

The bounty hunter was quick, and he dodge the shots as they came his way. He pulled out his own pair of pistols and started shooting.

 

Sorgal drew his saber and deflected several of the bolts.

 

“Now it’s time for us to really be going!” he spat.

 

Everyone agreed, and they maneuvered over to the exit of the cell block. The Nautolan kept coming, and there was a lust for blood in his one natural eye.

 

Nalia had the lead, followed closely by Gabrielle and Rick. The young man kept turning back to fire, and Sorgal kept up the rear, facing the bounty hunter.

 

When the others had turned a corner and were headed up a short flight of stairs, Sorgal stopped still. He had grown sick of running all the time, and now that he was blissfully alone, he could do something about it.

 

The Nautolan kept shooting, never saying a word. Sorgal blocked each shot. The distance between them was shortening.

 

When he was close enough, Sorgal lunged forward, swinging his saber quick and fierce.

He missed the first swing, but he followed it up real quick.

 

The Nautolan took steps back to avoid his blade. He was struggling to put his pistols away and draw his vibroblade.

 

Sorgal saw what he was doing, and he made a swift attack to cut him off. The blade slashed through one of the guns, cutting it in two. The red blade barely missed the Nautolan’s hand.

 

He wasted no time in making another attack to follow up quickly. But then the Nautolan caught his wrist with his large bionic hand.

 

Sorgal struggled to get free, but he couldn’t move half a centimeter with the bounty hunter’s grip being so tight.

 

The Nautolan gave a contemptuous smile as he slowly squeezed harder.

 

Sorgal hissed and then roared in pain as he felt the bones in his hand crack. He raised his foot desperately and kicked the large bounty hunter square in the chest.

 

It was like kicking a tree. Instead of the Nautolan moving, Sorgal ended up pushing himself away. It would have ripped his hand off if the alien hadn’t let go and let him hurl himself through the air.

 

He landed on the floor, howling and clutching at his broken hand.

 

The Nautolan stepped forward, ready to finish him.

 

Then, blaster fire drove him back behind some cover. Rick arrived at Sorgal’s side, grabbing his lightsaber and helping him up.

 

“What part of stick with the group do you have a hard time understanding?” Rick asked as they hurried off to rejoin the others.

 

“What do you care?” Sorgal hissed, cringing in pain. “Why did you come back? You’ve let people die before…and you don’t even like me.”

 

“Targon and some of the others like you,” Rick stated, “whether you know it or not. And I like Targon. So show a little gratitude once in a while, okay?”

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Four

 

Hellion glanced out past the barricade he had erected from debris. Outside, dozens of police had arrived, surrounding the station and calling in with a megaphone.

 

Well, they came for a show, Hellion thought, so he’ll give them a show.

 

There were a bunch of hostages he had rounded up – surviving officers of the station that had foolishly tried to take him down.

 

Many of them were beaten and battered for their attempts.

 

Reaching down, he grabbed the highest ranking of the officers and brought him close to his face.

 

“Who paid you lot off?” he asked. “Who paid you to take that bunch prisoners?”

 

“I don’t know,” the man replied. “If I did…I wouldn’t tell you…”

 

“You’re lying to me,” Hellion growled. “I don’t like it when people lie to me. They usually don’t end up telling any more lies.”

 

“I’m not lying!”

 

Hellion smirked. “If you don’t have anything useful to tell me…then I guess I don’t need to keep you all alive anymore.”

 

“Kill us and the men outside will kill you,” the officer countered.

 

“They’ll try,” Hellion nodded. “But they’ll be too late for you. The best they’ll be able to do is bring your mutilated and smoking corpses to your families. Do you have any children, officer?”

 

The man’s mouth sealed tight, and he simply glared at the Sith Lord.

 

“Not feeling talkative anymore?” Hellion laughed. “Maybe you’ll start talking outside.”

 

“Outside?”

 

Hellion dragged him over to the barricade and poked both their heads over the wall. The officers raised their guns, but they couldn’t find a clear shot.

 

“Alright, cops,” Hellion called out. “This here is one of my hostages. I’ve got a whole bunch of them tied up in here. Men with families. Now, I don’t want to have to kill them…mostly…but if you don’t back off, then we’ll have a lot of weeping widows this evening.”

 

The police negotiator spoke back to him. “There’s no need to kill the hostages!”

 

“Of course not,” Hellion nodded. “Though I’m fully ready to do it.”

 

“Just tell us what you want.”

 

Hellion chuckled. “What I want is already in here…I just need you lot to run along home and leave me to my business.”

 

“You know we can’t do that,” the negotiator sighed.

 

“Can’t you? I’m sure the children of this fine officer would say differently.”

 

“Hold on now!” the negotiator said weakly. “Can’t you be reasonable?”

 

Hellion thought for a second. “I could…but I won’t. Back off, coppers, or I start killing. And then I can easily kill all of you too. Don’t give me a reason too.”

 

He dragged the officer back over to the bunch of hostages. He lifted him up in the air, gripping him by the throat.

 

“Now,” he sighed. “I’ll ask again – who paid you?”

 

“Screw you,” the man rasped.

 

Hellion shook his head in disgust. Then he activated the lightsaber and ran it through the man’s skull.

 

Dropping the dead man, he turned to the other hostages. “Anybody else want to annoy me? Or will you finally decide to start talking?”

 

No one spoke.

 

Hellion growled and shrugged. “If I find out on my own…I won’t need to keep any of you around anymore. Think on that for a bit.”

 

---

 

The hunters had caught up to Targon and the other Jedi. Blaster bolts zipped by their heads as Greyhawk continually turned around and bought the time with cover fire.

 

Djehad and Drago were fast approaching, though. They were more guns, and they were eager to get to them.

 

It was time to turn and fight.

 

Targon, Xana, and Ryner all turned about and activated their sabers. Three green blades sprung to life and deflected the storm of lasers.

 

Greyhawk took this time to find some cover for himself and give these young folks a chance to fight. Once behind a corner, he checked his ammunition and waited a while. Then he got out and starting shooting in sporadic bursts.

 

Djehad unleashed a storm of bolts, while Drago drew a vibroblade from the sling on his backside. With a ferocious roar, he leapt forward. He was a giant form of gray and black fur that filled the hall.

 

Ryner moved to intercept, catching the vibroblade with his saber. The Togorian pulled away and swung again. Each strike had enough strength behind it to flatten a man if it hit its mark.

 

The Jedi made sure to keep the blows glancing away with his saber. He was such a tall man, however, that he nearly stood eye to eye with the large feline. This allowed him to catch the attacks before they gained much momentum.

 

Their blades clashed and locked together. The Togorian snarled at him with intimidating fangs, and pushed hard against Ryner’s defense.

 

For a few moments, Ryner looked as though he was struggling. His brow furrowed and he grimaced in strain.

 

But then he opened his eyes and smirked.

 

Drago frowned in confusion at the Jedi’s smile, and then he growled louder.

 

Ryner deactivated his saber and pulled away. The force that the cat had been using destabilized him and he started to tumbled forward.

 

The Jedi aided his fall with a blow to the back of the neck. Once the Togorian had collapsed to the floor, Ryner pushed his hulking form away – directly for the short man.

 

Djehad ducked and rolled to avoid being crushed by the massive cat. He then got to his feet and started shooting again, this time with great speed and precision.

 

Ryner reactivated his blade and held off, but this time, Greyhawk returned to the fight.

 

The old soldier launched a grenade at the ceiling of the hall, causing the corridor to collapse above Djehad.

 

The small bounty hunter was forced to retreat to keep from being smashed.

 

As dust and debris clouded the hall, the Jedi and the soldier resumed their flight.

 

Behind the rubble, Djehad kicked at the Togorian to get him up.

 

“Come on, you mangy kitten!” the man snarled. “One blow to the neck and you’re done with?”

 

Drago rose suddenly, snatching the man’s neck in his massive claw. He hissed at him and bared his large fangs.

 

“Don’t talk smack to me, human,” Drago growled. “I’ve been fighting and hunting longer than you’ve been alive.”

 

“Oh, I see,” Djehad nodded. “So your age is slowing you down?”

 

“Not in the slightest,” Drago growled.

 

“If that’s the case,” the man gasped for breath. “How about showing your age-acquired skill more often?”

 

The Togorian rolled its yellow eyes and dropped him.

 

“We have to make double time to get around this mess,” he growled.

 

“Then what are you standing around for?” Djehad asked as he headed off back the way they had come.

 

The Togorian muttered a curse and followed after the small man.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Five

 

Rick and Sorgal caught up with the rest of their group outside one of the questioning rooms. The others had stopped to catch their breath and wait for them. Their relief was quite apparent when the two arrived.

 

Valens frowned, “This is new, Rick.”

 

“What?” Rick asked as he handed Sorgal over to the girls to get his hand treated.

 

“Going back to save someone,” Valens replied, folding his arms. “You never went back for anyone. Even Jolli. And certainly not me.”

 

Rick scowled. “I was getting the ship! I couldn’t have done anything to help either of you.”

 

“You saw what was going on,” Valens stated. “You saw them take me. Why didn’t you look for me? Did you think I died in the explosion you set off?”

 

“Okay, Shazzar set that off,” Rick pointed out.

 

“That doesn’t make any difference,” Valens shook his head. “You still didn’t look for me.”

 

“Where was I supposed to look?” Rick countered. “We just found you here…after eight years…happening to be in the same prison as us!”

 

“Boys!” Gabrielle snapped fiercely.

 

The two men stopped short, their voices silenced.

 

Gabrielle growled. “I’m sure you both have lots to talk about, but you’ll have to do it later. Now shut your traps and let’s get going.”

 

No one argued with that notion. Sorgal’s hand was bound up and they had caught their breath, so they continued on. They kept their guns trained behind them for whenever the bounty hunters might show up again.

 

They were getting closer to the entrance now. They hadn’t been encountering much in the way of inmates or policemen. Most that they did see were dead.

 

Then they found themselves at a corner. There were sounds of someone coming from the other side.

 

Rick took the lead, his blaster at the ready. Valens and Gabrielle were to either side, and Sorgal was prepared to use his less optimal hand to wield his blade. When the sounds grew close enough, they emerged with weapons trained…

 

Three lightsabers and one large blaster cannon greeted them.

 

“Rick!” Targon sighed with relief. “Are you all right?”

 

“For the most part,” Rick nodded, sighing himself. He holstered his gun.

 

“Who’s this?” Greyhawk asked, pointing to the young man next to Rick.

 

“This is Valens,” Rick replied.

 

“Valens?” Targon raised an eyebrow.

 

“As in the kid you talked about from your history?” Greyhawk added.

 

“I’m not a kid,” the man frowned.

 

“What happened to Sorgal?” Xana asked.

 

Sorgal regarded his broken wrist. “One of the bounty hunters has a real nasty grip.”

 

“And they’ve all got a worse attitude,” Ryner shrugged. “We’d best be getting out of here now.”

 

“That’s going to be a problem,” Targon sighed.

 

“Why?” Sorgal asked.

 

“Hellion is here,” Xana answered for him.

 

“How can you know that?” Rick asked. “All we’ve seen are bounty hunters.”

 

“I felt his presence,” Targon replied. “He can mask it well, but here…he’s wanting to let us know that he’s here.”

 

“What a great pickle we’re in,” Gabrielle growled. “Caught by criminals, and then we’re caught by bribed police and taken to a station where the Sith Lord can get at us easy.”

 

“If he paid them off,” Rick frowned. “Why kill them all?”

 

“I don’t think Hellion did,” Xana shook her head. “Someone else must have.”

 

“Well, Lycos sure didn’t,” Greyhawk stated. “If he had, they would have left after he died.”

 

“Quinn’s dead?” Valens’ eyes widened.

 

“Yeah, didn’t you know?” Sorgal asked. “Oh, wait, that’s right…you were in prison.”

 

“We need to focus, everyone,” Targon stated. “The only way out is through those doors…everything else has been locked down or blocked off. We need a plan to get past Hellion.”

 

---

 

Hellion was growing impatient. The bounty hunters had been gone far longer than he had expected.

 

He activated the comlink on his wrist and called each of them.

 

“How’s the hunt going, boys? You’ve been out long enough.”

 

Djehad was the first to respond.

 

“They’ve split up, and the south corridor has been blocked off.”

 

Hellion frowned. “I see…”

 

“I haven’t seen any sign of them,” Boruk stated. “The convicts have been getting in my way…not serious, but they are slowing me down.”

 

“I’m not going to pay you for being slow,” Hellion growled.

 

“Maybe you should start hunting with us,” Drago suggested with a hiss.

 

“And then why should I pay you at all?” Hellion countered. “Get the job done!”

 

He suddenly felt a disturbance through the Force…emanating from outside.

 

With a glance, he noticed the besieging police force was moving in. They were going to storm the station, and they were armed well enough to do it.

 

Hellion sighed with annoyance. “Change of plans,” he stated into the comm. “Regroup near the entrance – the authorities are getting antsy.”

 

“What about the targets?” Relvan asked angrily.

 

“The only exit is my location,” Hellion replied. “They’ll have to show up here. But first, we need to take care of this unwelcome development.”

 

He turned and faced the entrance as the first of the storming police barged in, weapons ready to fire.

 

“Hands in the air!” they ordered.

 

Hellion growled. “I told you all to stay out of this…but I guess you don’t care for the lives of the hostages. Oh well…”

 

They started shooting as he moved his hands, but Hellion was quick. In an instant, he lifted the hostages into the air and created a wall with their bodies between him and the storm of lasers.

 

Shrieking and screaming filled the room as the bolts tore through the helpless men. The others ceased fire, but it was too late.

 

Hellion slipped through the door and into the station amid the chaos.

 

He could feel the Jedi and his companions through the Force. They were close…closer than the mercenaries were.

 

Hellion decided it might be best to cut out the middleman and just take care of them all himself. The bounty hunters would deal with the police.

 

His heavy footsteps rang through the empty halls. Behind him, he could hear the police starting to advance into the station. But he cared nothing for that…they didn’t matter.

 

The only thing that mattered was victory. And he was going to have it.

 

He was gone by the time the police moved out into the halls. But he could hear from echoes through the ventilation system of their activities.

 

Soon enough, he heard shouting and shooting. He could hear the voices of the bounty hunters, the whining of blaster bolts…and the screaming of the dying.

 

It was music…but he didn’t have time to stop and listen.

 

The Jedi was so close now.

 

Eagerly, Hellion reached for his saber.

 

Just behind this door…

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Six

 

The approaching dark presence came so fast, the Jedi couldn’t react in time. The Sith Lord burst through the door while the group was in the midst of its planning.

 

His burning eyes flashed from beneath his black cloak and dark gray armor. He had is crimson blade in hand – and he wasted no time in starting to swing it.

 

Targon’s saber sprung to life and he caught the Sith’s blade before it got near Rick’s head. Then he pushed Hellion back, trying to steal his momentum by taking the offensive.

 

Xana and Ryner were soon on either side of Hellion, forming a circle around the Sith Lord and slowly tightening it.

 

But Hellion wasn’t about to be caught like a badger in a trap. He leaped out from the ring of Jedi, landing behind Targon.

 

Blaster bolts headed his way from Rick and Greyhawk, but he deflected them easily. More shots came from the Twi’lek and someone Hellion hadn’t seen before. The other woman, the criminal, held back and kept a large distance between her and the fight.

 

Targon turned around and attacked again, but Hellion blocked, and this time he took the offensive. His hammering blows pushed the young Jedi back.

 

Then, with a swipe of his other fist, he sent Targon sprawling into the air and landing on his back.

 

Xana came at him now, blade twirling with incredible speed and grace. Hellion held off her attacks, and then started making his own.

 

Her strength was nowhere near his, so she could hardly stand toe to toe with him. Instead, Xana danced around him, keeping away from the brunt of his assaults.

 

She was joined by Ryner – and he fought completely different.

 

At one point, Hellion slammed his saber down against the tall Jedi’s. But instead of holding against it, Ryner deactivated his saber, letting gravity destabilize the Sith as he moved out of the way to make another attack.

 

Hellion was nearly fooled the first few times. Ryner’s blade actually scratched through his armor at a few points and even struck his skin beneath. But that was as far as it went.

 

He adjusted his application of strength so that this Jedi’s peculiar fighting style wouldn’t catch him off guard again.

 

Xana came at Hellion with a sudden lunge. The Sith Lord swatted the attack away and kicked her in the stomach with a big, heavy boot. She collapsed to the ground, but Targon had recovered and joined the fight again before Hellion could focus on Ryner alone.

 

Rick and Valens took several potshots when they saw the opportunity, but they never did hit their target. However, they were successful in getting Hellion’s attention and distracting him from the fight.

 

Hellion turned his sights on the shooters, hurling a storm of lightning at them. They tried to run, but they weren’t fast enough. Both of them were thrown to the wall by the dark energy.

 

But that was when Ryner made his sudden attack, nearly cutting off Hellion’s arm. He would have, if the Sith hadn’t pulled back in time and raised his saber to hold off the Jedi’s strikes.

 

Greyhawk was waiting for the right moment, aiming his large gun. He found it when Hellion knocked both Targon and Ryner away in a quick series of kicks and punches.

 

He fired a grenade at the Sith from his launcher.

 

Seeing it just in time, Hellion raised his hand to put up a shield through the Force to protect him. He wasn’t quite quick enough, for although the fiery blast didn’t vaporize him, the shock of it hurled him to a wall.

 

Smoke filled the room.

 

Hellion stood up quickly, brushing off the rubble and dust and char. His eyes were burning hotly, more intense than the explosion itself had been.

 

He raised both hands and unleashed a torrent of lightning that struck everyone in the room. As they screamed, he laughed and roared in furious triumph.

 

---

 

The hallway had become a battlefield – and there were plenty of corpses on the ground to warrant such a description.

 

Troops were storming in, but many of them just kept falling as the bounty hunters caught them in a crossfire.

 

Djehad was looking like he was having too much fun. He laughed as more police barged through the doors and fell victim to his flurry of lasers. His twin blasters were smoking now from having been fired so much.

 

Drago was next to him, but he kept quiet. He bore his teeth as he shot, and growled an occasional curse when he missed.

 

But the police were getting smarter now. They started using cover, throwing smoke pellets to hide in, and firing together in teams. Some were also starting to wear heavier armor.

 

Djehad swore when his blasters overheated. They weren’t only smoking, they seemed to be glowing with excess heat.

 

“This job is getting less profitable by the second,” he muttered.

 

“I should expect such complaint from the most recent hired gun,” Drago growled at him. “And a human, no less.”

 

Djehad laughed. “Well, this human knows how to survive. I’m out of here.”

 

“How?” Drago asked. “The police block the exit.”

 

The short man replied by tossing a thermal detonator at a wall and covering his head. The explosion rocked the corridor and dust filled everywhere.

 

Drago then felt a pain stab beneath his shoulder blade. Glancing back, he found a knife sticking out of his scapula. He roared in pain, trying to grab it, but it was just out of his reach.

 

“A little gift to remember me by,” Djehad said as he walked off to the massive hole he had created. He turned back long enough to tip his hat to the raging Togorian just as the cat caught a blaster bolt to the chest in his distraction. And then the short man was gone.

 

After Drago fell, the police focused on the remaining two bounty hunters on the opposite side of the corridor.

 

Boruk and Relvan kept shooting, their aim precise and their hits fatal. It didn’t look like they were going to be dislodged any time soon.

 

Then a brave officer, already hit twice in the abdomen, desperately threw a concussion grenade at the mercenaries. Distracted from killing other police, they didn’t notice it until it went off.

 

The Nosaurian howled as he was blinded and stunned. Police quickly stormed up and put him in cuffs. It took three men to keep his flailing claws in check.

 

Relvan, on the other hand, could still see through his cybernetic eye. He killed seven more officers as they surrounded him and tried to take him down. His prosthetic arm was dripping in their blood.

 

But then several men shot him with stun rays. It took several hits to short out his nerves, but he went down eventually.

 

The police dragged the bodies of the slain and the bound mercenaries out of the station. The police chief grumbled and sighed at the massive chaos.

 

A tall person walked next to him.

 

“Well, they’ve been taken care of,” the chief stated.

 

“Good work, officer,” the man smiled. “Here’s the money as promised. A pity so many good men had to die to see this task done.”

 

“These mercenaries had to be stopped.”

 

“Indeed,” the man nodded, his true feelings on the matter hidden by his golden mask. He handed the police chief a case of credits. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said as he walked off down the hall. “You have your duties…and I have one last matter to attend to.”

 

---

 

Hellion stopped his electrical assault. He laughed at the trembling and weak forms of his opponents lying helplessly on the ground.

 

Targon was trying to stand, but his muscles were giving out from under him.

 

Hellion reached out and lifted the Jedi into the air, bringing him close.

 

“It’s over now,” he hissed. “You’ve fought your last, Jedi. Now it’s time we finished this.”

 

“What do you want?” Targon rasped. “Don’t you have armies to lead and rivals to kill?”

 

“Already took care of them,” Hellion chuckled.

 

“I noticed you were working solo,” Targon stated. “More or less…”

 

“Yes,” Hellion nodded. “But as you can see, I am more than enough to deal with you and your pitiful little band.”

 

“Just keep talking,” Targon smirked. “My ‘pitiful band’ will get up soon and stop you while you’re so busy gloating.”

 

“I think not, Jedi,” Hellion shook his head. He activated his saber and raised it to Targon’s neck. “Once you’re dead, they’ll lose heart, and they’ll quickly follow.”

 

Targon kept calm, not worrying about the heat of the blade so close to his throat. “One question before you finish this…” he gasped. “Why pay off the police and then kill them?”

 

Hellion laughed. “Stupid boy,” his eyes flashed. “I don’t pay corrupt and putrid cops. I kill them. Whoever paid them to get you all in jail did a miserable job.”

 

“Actually,” a shockingly familiar voice said from behind. “It worked just fine.”

 

Hellion’s eyes widened, but before he could react, a pair of red blades pierced through his chest.

 

Targon was dropped to the floor. He glanced up and saw the other Sith behind Hellion, withdrawing his twin blades.

 

Vinitar.

 

Hellion wheezed from behind his re-breather and dropped to his knees with a thunderous clamor. His burning eyes stared disbelievingly at the red robed, gold masked Sith that stood over him.

 

“How…?” he gasped.

 

Vinitar glared at him with contempt. “One ill turn deserves another, Hellion. Your brutality blinded you to more subtle plots against you.”

 

“You can’t…” Hellion hissed. “You can’t have beaten me…I am Sith!”

 

“No,” Vinitar laughed. “You are dead.”

 

He spun his blades in his hands and cut down the man that had betrayed him. Hellion’s thick, armored body clattered to the floor.

 

Vinitar then turned his sights on Targon.

 

“You paid the police,” the young Jedi realized.

 

“Authorities are easy to bribe,” Vinitar nodded. “And what better way to make sure Hellion showed up where I wanted him to, without him suspecting anything?”

 

“So what now?” Targon asked. “Kill us?”

 

“That is within my power,” Vinitar replied. “But my vengeance is done here. Hellion is dead. This assignment has been most distasteful, and with him dead, I can now be reassigned.”

 

“Reassigned?”

 

“Your little band is more trouble than you’re worth,” Vinitar stated. “Someone else can have the luxury of taking you down. I’m through with you…and I hope we never meet again.”

 

With that, Vinitar walked out of the room, leaving Targon and his group alone with the body of the slain Sith Lord.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Seven

 

Luckily, the group wasn’t arrested as they exited the station. The police were too busy with all the other details to take any real note of them. After all, it wasn’t this group that had massacred so many inmates and officers.

 

They made their way to the spaceport and back to the Lone Eagle. There, Ryner shook hands with them all and informed them that this was where they parted ways.

 

“I’ve got a lot of work to do still,” he sighed. “There’s the report on the mission against Lycos Quinn…and the subsequent events. And there’s the corruption issue here on Corellia that needs addressing.”

 

“Well, with so many crime bosses gone,” Xana shrugged, “things shouldn’t be too bad for a little while, at least.”

 

“You may be right,” Ryner nodded. “I’ll be sure to inform the Council of how you all handled yourself. They’ll be interested to hear about it, I’m sure.”

 

“If you ask me,” Greyhawk chuckled. “I’d say they get a kick every time they hear about our exploits.”

 

Ryner laughed. “Well, gentlemen, I hope we meet again. But until then, may the Force be with you.”

 

“And you,” Targon nodded.

 

The tall Jedi walked off and had soon disappeared amid the crowds of the spaceport.

 

Nalia then addressed the group.

 

“I’m not quite sure what to make of you all,” she said. “And I’m sure you’re no friend of my line of business. I’m…sorry for my part in these events…and I’m grateful for how you helped me.”

 

“Ah, it was nothing,” Sorgal shrugged.

 

“I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you all,” she persisted. “I am in your debt. Whether you are a bunch of criminals or vigilantes…you all are certainly friends of mine.”

 

“Wow,” Valens gaped. “Thanks from the Queen of the Underworld? You guys are famous.”

 

“You don’t know the half of it,” Greyhawk winked at the young man.

 

“If there’s ever anything I can do for you,” Nalia said, “my home is on Coruscant. Look me up at the Royal Gardens. If you have trouble with other criminals…I’ll see to it that my place is a safe haven for you.”

 

“That’s quite generous of you,” Targon nodded. “We are grateful for your offer.”

 

“No, Jedi,” the Twi’lek shook her head, her long pink lekku gracefully wagging behind her. “It is I that is grateful to you. I hope one day I can repay the debt I owe you.”

 

She shook their hands and departed, heading for one of the large transports headed for Coruscant.

 

When she was gone, they boarded the ship.

 

“Well,” Valens stated as he looked around the ship. “I see you’ve changed things around…even the name.”

 

“I’ve changed,” Rick stated simply.

 

“Have you now?” the young man smirked. “We’ll see about that.”

 

“There’s a bunk for you,” Rick informed him. “We lost one of our companions a while back…”

 

“It’s certainly not as spacious with a larger crew,” Valens noted, taking no heed to Rick’s words.

 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Rick muttered, rolling his eyes and headed for his large captain’s quarters.

 

“I’ll take off,” Targon stated, heading up to the cockpit.

 

Rick muttered a thanks, but he wasn’t sure if the Jedi heard him. He was weary…and things had been quite hectic and exhausting here on Corellia. More than in the past, certainly.

 

He dropped onto his large bed and groaned with exhaustion and grief.

 

He certainly hadn’t expected to reveal his past…he had been trying for so long to bury it. But with Shazzar’s appearance to the crew – and now Valens – the festering wounds of his history were surfacing again.

 

There was so much he regretted about those days. He really wished he could just forget everything that had happened. All those faces…all those feelings…

 

Someone sat down on the bed and started to softly caress his back and shoulders.

 

Rick glanced up in surprise to find Gabrielle there, looking at him with sympathy in her gorgeous eyes.

 

“This is the captain’s quarters,” he said simply.

 

“What are you going to do? Flog me?”

 

Rick sighed, “No. I don’t do that.”

 

“I know you don’t,” Gabrielle nodded. “You used to do worse.”

 

“Thanks for the reminder.”

 

Gabrielle sighed and leaned on Rick’s back, digging her elbow into his taut and tense muscles. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

 

“Could have fooled me,” Rick groaned with the intense massage.

 

“I’m here to comfort you.”

 

“Comfort me? Sorgal’s the one with the broken hand. Greyhawk’s old and battered. Targon’s being hunted by the Empire. And Valens has been in jail for who knows how long? What need have I for comfort?”

 

Gabrielle turned him over and stared directly into his eyes. Beautiful as she was, she was also intimidating.

 

“You need to make peace with your past,” she stated. “I used to be a slave, Rick. Even as a bounty hunter, I was caught under the chains of bigotry and society’s view of my kind.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Rick sighed. “I shouldn’t be wallowing in my problems when…”

 

“Let me finish,” Gabrielle said sharply.

 

“Okay, okay.”

 

“Back when Quinn had you in those games…and I was treating your soreness…you said you understood me. You hinted at your past and…you connected with me. I had no idea why or how. And then you told us who you really were.”

 

“That’s not me anymore.”

 

“I know it’s not,” Gabrielle said softly. “That man is gone. Now you are Rick Orlan, captain of The Lone Eagle, and a man surrounded by friends.”

 

“Friends that now know me as a killer…as well as a fool.”

 

“No, they don’t,” Gabrielle stated. She leaned in closer to him. “More importantly, I don’t.”

 

“What do you see me as?” Rick asked.

 

“I see you as I’ve always seen you from the night we met at the Showtime Affair. You’re a cute man with quirks and a bad poker face. And I wouldn’t want to see you any other way.”

 

Rick was about to respond, but as soon as he opened his mouth she kissed him. It caught him off-guard, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to do.

 

Gabrielle pulled away and shook her head, as though she had heard his thoughts. “You’re supposed to kiss me back, Rick.”

 

And so he did. They lay there on the bed for several minutes, kissing and enjoying the feel and taste of each other.

 

Then he heard a sigh at the door.

 

Valens was just outside, his arms folded and shaking his head.

 

“Really, Rick?” he asked. “It doesn’t seem you’ve changed at all.”

 

Rick rolled his eyes and pressed a button next to the bed. The door closed and then locked.

 

“I can just sit out here and listen to you!” Valens’ voice said from behind the door.

 

“Boy, leave the captain alone,” Greyhawk growled, “or I’ll give you a spanking that your mother obviously didn’t give you enough of.”

 

Rick smiled, but then he found his face caught up with Gabrielle’s again. A strange realization came to him.

 

Having her here made all the pain and regret melt away.

 

---

 

Relvan and Boruk sat silently in the dark rear of the police vehicle. There were no windows to the outside, and they had no idea where they were headed.

 

It was likely to a high-security prison in the mountains, or even off-world.

 

The Nosaurian picked at his teeth with his claws, avoiding eye contact with the Nautolan.

 

Relvan just sat and brooded. His nerves were back to normal, but his weapons were gone and a restraint had been put on his arm to keep it immobilized. Otherwise, he would have broken out long ago.

 

Suddenly, the vehicle jolted to a stop, nearly throwing them both out of their seats. They both growled with annoyance and confusion.

 

Outside, they could hear shouting and blaster fire. It was short-lived, however, and then it became quiet again. The vehicle didn’t start up…it was just a long, awkward, and silent moment.

 

Then the door opened and light streamed into the car, blinding them for a few seconds.

 

“Well, well,” a voice said. “What do we have here?”

 

“Looks like all that remains of the Sith Lord’s mercs,” a deeper voice answered.

 

Finally able to see, Relvan and Boruk stared at the pair just outside. One was a man in green and brown armor, with a turban wrapped around his head and face. The other was a towering giant in thick armor and decked out in a wide assortment of deadly weapons.

 

Boruk growled. “You two don’t work together…you have different employers!”

 

“We did,” the man in the turban nodded.

 

“Quinn is dead, and so is my employment,” the giant rumbled.

 

“Having worked together in the past,” the first man continued, “I figured we could use a little teaming up. Maybe you two might be interested as well?”

 

“I know you two,” Relvan growled. “Shazzar and the Phantom. Why should I work with you? You’d just as soon kill each other.”

 

“Not really,” Shazzar shook his head. “The Jedi your recently-deceased employer was after? My client is paying a hundred million for him.”

 

“That’s ridiculous,” Boruk snorted. “What makes that boy so special?”

 

“What do you care?” the Phantom countered. “Money is money. Of course, if you’re not interested, then I suppose we can leave you here for the cops to come back and take you the rest of the way to jail.”

 

Relvan stood. “One hundred million split four ways, eh?”

 

“Something like that,” Shazzar nodded. “I know you as well, Relvan Kirth. Your reputation is quite renowned, not quite like the Phantom’s…but still…”

 

“And you can do better where a Sith failed?”

 

“We know we can,” the Phantom stated.

 

“It’s up to you,” Shazzar shrugged. “Stay or come. Time is short, and so is our offer.”

 

Relvan and Boruk thought for a second, and then they shook the pair’s hands.

 

Conclusion of Episode Fifteen

[RulithBarakis]

And so is revealed the deadly alliance. It's getting very close to where you were before the wipe! I'm pretty much bouncing with anticipation now. You didn't exactly leave off at a point that left us satisfied for a wait, lol

 

Can't wait to continue reading once the next Episode is up!

[TargonKarashi]

 

Episode Sixteen – Unholy Alliance

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

The twelve most powerful authorities in the Empire entered the chamber and took their seats. No one spoke with one another, no mindless chatter, not even an amiable greeting.

 

They simply eyed each other with suspicion and distrust. They were all on edge, tense, and grinding their teeth in silent fury.

 

A hologram activated on the table in the center of the council chamber. The hooded and mysterious form of the Dark Emperor peered deep into the hearts of each Sith Lord.

 

“There is a disturbance in the Force,” the Emperor said softly, with a slow and menacing voice. “Three colonies along the contested border with the Republic have been purged – all life has vanished.”

 

The Sith Lords said nothing. No one spoke unless the Emperor allowed it.

 

“Something is amiss in the Empire,” the Emperor continued. “Find it, my servants. Find this disturbance and be rid of it. That is my command.”

 

The whole Dark Council bowed and said together, “As you wish, Emperor.”

 

The hologram flickered off, and the Emperor’s dark presence seemed to dissipate with his image.

 

“What is this thing that the Emperor refers to?” one of the Council asked. “I have felt nothing of this sort. I have felt no passing of life or death amid planets.”

 

“You wouldn’t feel yourself passing gas, Lord Arson,” another Council member maliciously joked.

 

No one laughed. All the Council simply glared at the Sith Lord.

 

Hades leaned forward on his cane. “You have no cause for humor with the Emperor’s command, Lord Ravage.”

 

“And you have no cause to berate me,” Ravage hissed.

 

“You would already be dead,” Arson growled, “if it weren’t for the Emperor’s command.”

 

Viruul shook his head. “The Emperor made no decree that Ravage should still be alive. Perhaps he has been on the Council long enough and the Emperor would be glad to see him gone.”

 

“You’d best leave threats unspoken, Viruul,” Lord Mortis said from across the chamber. “You’re already unpopular enough.”

 

“That’s your opinion,” Viruul shrugged. “And a stupid opinion at that.”

 

“At least my opinion doesn’t lead to your death,” Mortis stated. “You are lucky that the rest of the Council is not as eager to kill as you are.”

 

“Eager to kill?” Viruul frowned. “I have not killed any man, woman, or child needlessly. All has been for the Empire’s benefit.”

 

“The Empire’s?” Ravage asked. “Or yours?”

 

“My thoughts exactly,” Mortis nodded.

 

“You are lucky that I care little for what you think,” Viruul jabbed his finger in the air towards Mortis. “Otherwise, you would be at the top of my inquisition list.”

 

Lord Howl laughed from another side of the chamber. “That’s awfully presumptuous of you, Viruul. What authority is given you to threaten or even suppose to kill another of this Council?”

 

“The Emperor gives me the authority,” Viruul stated. “The Emperor and my own power.”

 

“The same power that has led you to fall in the graces of the Council?” Ravage laughed. “What have you done in this war, Viruul?”

 

Mortis nodded. “Ravage is right, what have you done? Viserys was not taken by your forces. Mine did.”

 

“Your agents have not killed Jedi like ours,” Howl stated.

 

“What agents do you have?” Mortis asked, his mocking smile hidden by his faceless mask. “Last I heard, your bounty hunters were dead or failed, your Sith hunters gone, and your…apprentice – if that’s what you can call that thing – has not been seen for some time.”

 

“Take care of what you say,” Hades hissed. “My apprentice was lost in Viruul’s service. Would you insult me as you do Lord Viruul?”

 

“Perhaps I do,” Mortis waved his hand. “But you are not involved in this matter, Lord Hades. It is Viruul to whom the attention falls.”

 

“My apprentice is where she is meant to be,” Viruul stated, seething with a barely controlled rage at being mocked. “She is closer than you think, Mortis.”

 

“And what has she done for you?” Howl asked. “Murdered a few people on Telos?”

 

Mortis laughed at that. “My apprentice, on the other hand, oversaw and participated in the deaths of countless Jedi and soldiers…including three of the Jedi High Council.”

 

Lord Viruul stood in a rage. “And where is Scorpius now, Mortis? He’s on the frontlines, fighting the Republic, and perhaps even dead. He could not get here fast enough to keep me from killing your right now.”

 

“Is that a threat?” Mortis asked harshly.

 

“What do you think?” Viruul spat. “Your champion is far away. Mine might be right behind you.”

 

“I will not sit here and listen to your empty, foolish threats!” Ravage rose.

 

“Your ambition is your downfall, Viruul,” Howl stated.

 

“Silence!” Lord Marr’s voice came out in a fierce and shattering whisper. The rest of the Council turned to him, shocked at his outburst that was so uncommon of him.

 

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Marr asked. “Have you forgotten the Emperor’s command? There are more pressing matters at hand than our banter and politics.”

 

Hades nodded. “Lord Marr is correct. We can conclude this…discussion…at another time. Now we must see to the disappearances of these colonies.”

 

With a sigh, Viruul nodded and sat. “I will not be the one to forget the Emperor’s will. What do we know of these colonies and their inhabitants? What signs or traces can be found of their incident?”

 

He glanced over at Mortis, sitting silently.

 

Mortis appeared disinterested in the matter, as though he already knew what all the business was about…or else he didn’t care at all.

 

Lord Hades pointed out the three colonies on the holoprojector.

 

“Haroon V, Undor, and Shanxi…all neutral colonies in the Expansion Region. The first two were mining colonies; the third was a small trade hub for lesser hyperspace lanes.”

 

“They don’t seem very important,” Lord Arson observed. “An average population size…some resources, but not vital…”

 

Viruul saw something and pointed it out. “They are in a systematic pattern,” he stated. “Each is less than seven parsecs away from the last…and it starts from the Empire’s border.”

 

Hades nodded. “Yes, it does appear to be a chain. It stems from the Empire, sure enough. The Emperor said so. But what? Who?”

 

“An investigative force must be sent to gather information,” Ravage stated.

 

“No, really?” Arson spat.

 

“Quiet, both of you,” Hades raised a pale, thin finger. “We’ll send a team, but who?”

 

“And where?” Mortis asked. “Why send them to these worlds where no one is left? They won’t find anything.”

 

“Is that so?” Viruul asked. “Most others would disagree…but I know where to send them.” He pointed to the next world that would be right in the path of the pattern. Seven parsecs away from Shanxi was a planet he recognized.

 

Yoren.

 

“We have ambassadors there already,” Ravage shook his head. “They would have reported something out of place.”

 

“You think dumb, fat diplomats in their nice hotel suites would notice something subtle?” Hades cackled.

 

“Yoren is in the midst of upheaval,” Viruul stated. “If there was an attack, an epidemic, or whatever this was…we wouldn’t know about it in time unless we have someone already there looking for it.”

 

“Well, why don’t we send your apprentice?” Howl suggested.

 

“And how about we send your head with her?” Viruul snapped back. “She has more important matters to attend to…”

 

“We will send an Imperial Agent,” Marr stated bluntly.

 

Viruul paused, his mouth agape for a moment. “I think not!”

 

“It is not up to you,” Hades shook his head. “The Moffs and the Ministry of Intelligence are feeling…unappreciated…by the Council. We need to utilize their resources and make use of them. Otherwise…they might suppose we don’t like them.”

 

“So now we’re bringing politics into this?” Viruul growled and laced his fingers.

 

“Everything is about politics,” Mortis stated. “Didn’t you know that?”

 

Viruul glanced up at him, frowning. He had noticed Mortis hadn’t said much…especially since the subject of Yoren was brought up.

 

“We’re playing a game of thrones, Viruul,” Mortis continued. “Twelve thrones, and one observer. If you don’t win, you die. And another Sith will take your place.”

 

Viruul’s eyes narrowed. He knew Mortis was up to something. There had been an open challenge of authority between them in this Council session. That hadn’t happened before. Mortis usually shut down before Viruul’s fury…or the situation was easily diffused by another of the Council.

 

But this was different. Mortis had stood up to him.

 

That could only mean one thing…

 

Mortis was going to make his move. And soon.

Edited February 13, 2015 by TargonKarashi

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Two

 

The Lone Eagle exited hyperspace above the hot and tropical planet of Shanxi. Only one settlement stood amid the great jungles and seas – a large trading post and spaceport.

 

“So,” Targon turned to Rick in the pilot’s chair. “What are we doing all the way out here?”

 

Rick turned to him. “I need money, Targon. Our little ventures are costing a fortune in ship repairs and everything. There’s a friend of mine on Shanxi that has offered me a job opportunity.”

 

“What kind?”

 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Rick frowned. “I’ve gone straight. This isn’t anything criminal, I assure you.”

 

“If you say so,” Targon shrugged.

 

Rick shook his head and sighed. “It’s also a way to lay low for a bit. What with all that has been going on…I think we could use a few easier days.”

 

“That’s true,” Targon nodded.

 

The Lone Eagle sent its landing codes to the docking station…but there was only static in reply.

 

Rick frowned. “That’s odd.”

 

“Is there anyone even here?” Targon asked, concerned.

 

“Of course there are people,” Rick answered. “They’re just…all getting coffee…at the same time.”

 

They waited a little longer, but still there was no reply. Targon started to get a dark and brooding feeling that grew the longer they remained there.

 

“I don’t like this,” he stated.

 

“Me neither,” Rick nodded. “We should land and take a look.”

 

“Did you just say what I thought you said?” Targon asked, shocked.

 

“I know, I know,” Rick sighed. “But this is serious…the whole colony’s gone dark. I can’t detect any chatter on the channels…and the scanners don’t detect anything. This is big…we need to find out what’s going on.”

 

“I agree,” Targon nodded. “I just didn’t expect it to be coming from you.”

 

The Lone Eagle descended over the planet and made its way down to the single settlement. Looking out the window, none of the crew liked what they saw.

 

“It’s deserted,” Valens stated.

 

“Worse than deserted,” Greyhawk shook his head. “It’s been ravaged.”

 

Indeed, dozens of buildings lay in ruins, rubble and debris littered the tightly packed streets, and a haze of smoke hung over the city.

 

But there were no bodies.

 

The ship landed and the ramp lowered. The crew exited with weapons in their hands. They walked slowly, studying everything around them…though there was little to find.

 

“Not a sound,” Sorgal observed. “Not a creature noise from the forests…or even the rustle of the trees.”

 

“Even the wind is still,” Xana nodded. “There is a dark essence about this place.”

 

“What do you think happened?” Valens asked. “What could do something like this?”

 

“Well, if we find anyone, we’ll be sure to ask,” Gabrielle answered.

 

They kept moving, searching all around, yet there was not a soul – or corpse – to be seen anywhere. The silence was the worst of all…not a breeze, not a voice, not even the ground beneath them made a sound with their footsteps.

 

Moving down several streets, they were slowly making their way to the town center. A large tower stood as the governor’s manse and spaceport security. It was empty and derelict, from what they could tell outside.

 

And there was something coating it.

 

“What is that?” Rick asked no one in particular.

 

“Looks like vines have overgrown it,” Greyhawk observed.

 

“That doesn’t make sense,” Sorgal frowned. “This place looks like it was only abandoned recently. There’s no way that vines could grow that fast…”

 

“No,” Targon stated simply as they got closer. “Look…it’s not green and it’s not vegetation. It’s…red.”

 

The light was dim from cloud cover, but when the sun peeked through the clouds for a brief moment, the strange strands covering the tower appeared to glow a dull ruddy color.

 

“What is it?” Gabrielle asked.

 

“Is it…alive?” Xana added.

 

They were at the foot of the tower, getting a close view of the odd stuff. Sorgal stepped forward and touched it.

 

“No, it’s not alive,” he stated.

 

“It is organic, though,” Rick pointed out.

 

“That doesn’t mean it’s alive,” the Sith growled.

 

“Quiet, both of you!” Greyhawk barked harshly. He had his blaster pistol ready to fire, and he looked like he was planning to grab his cannon strapped to his back.

 

“What is it?” Targon asked. And then he saw.

 

The strange “vines” on the tower twitched.

 

Looking up, the group saw something moving above.

 

The strands were parting a ways up and something was…coming out.

 

A horrid shriek filled the air, shattering the silence in a terrifying fury. The object flew from the opening and plunged down towards them.

 

It was a large insect, the size of a man, but unlike anything ever seen before. Its carapace was red and streaked with black markings. Its eyes were black coals, and its several legs were covered in claws and spikes and other sharp growths.

 

Rick nearly screamed, but instead, he let his blaster make the noise. The others joined it, firing up at the creature.

 

But the insect was quick, dodging their bolts and drawing nearer. It opened a mouth full of fangs dripping with venom. Out of its throat came another monstrous howl.

 

It landed among them, slashing at them and shrieking.

 

A few blaster bolts hit it, but the hard skin seemed unaffected.

 

The creature went for the closest person – Sorgal – and raised its claws. It flew at him, ready to rip the Sith to shreds.

 

Sorgal leaped back and drew his red saber. He hacked at its arms that came his way, but they didn’t seem to do anything. The hide was too tough.

 

Then it grabbed him and flung him at the wall. He crashed into the tower’s base with a grunt and struggled to get up.

 

The monster wasn’t going to wait for him. It leapt at him, with fangs ready to dig into him – armor and flesh.

 

Sorgal roared as he faced the creature, raised his fingers, and hurled bolts of lightning into it.

 

The power of his attack flung the monster back, slamming it onto the ground. Sorgal stood then, fuming with dark rage.

 

Struggling, the creature was trying to rise. The others blasted it with their guns, though still it seemed to no effect.

 

Sorgal had an idea though, and he didn’t wait to ask anyone’s permission.

 

Nearby was a large piece of a structure that appeared to have burned down. With a wave of his hand, Sorgal lifted the piece and slammed it down on the shrieking insect.

 

The planet went silent again.

 

“What the frell?” Rick gasped at length.

 

“Something evil is afoot,” Targon stated. “I felt a horrible dark presence in that…creature. But I sensed…it was once a person…”

 

“The Sorceress’ work?” Greyhawk suggested.

 

“It doesn’t feel that way,” Targon shook his head. “I sense…Sith sorcery.”

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Three

 

Yoren was the most boring planet that Joan had ever been to. And she had been here three days.

 

Three days ago, the Ministry had dispatched her here to look into any…strange happenings…that the Dark Council suspected might be happening here. She didn’t like assignments from the Sith…but the Ministry ordered her here.

 

There was nothing going on at all, as far as she could tell. The Imperial delegation was being run around in circles by the Yorenese government officials.

 

Yoren wasn’t happy about their senator’s death…but they weren’t eager to just renounce the Republic. They said they weren’t ready for such a drastic measure yet.

 

Joan had rolled her eyes at that. She knew what was really going on here. They were trying to see how much they could squeeze out of the negotiations before they signed any deal. They were out for money, influence, and prestige.

 

They would be lucky if the Empire didn’t just decide to destroy them instead. Other worlds had suffered such fates, for lesser defiance.

 

Of course, there was no way to get the ambassadors to see things that way. These fat men hardly deserved to be called Imperial. They were politicians…and they didn’t care how long the negotiations were taking. After all, they were being pampered nicely as they waited.

 

Other than that annoyance, she couldn’t see anything else going on. And certainly nothing that seemed to warrant the Dark Council’s suspicion.

 

Those Sith Lords were being paranoid, she figured.

 

She was sitting restlessly on a bench in one of the grand hallways of Yoren’s Palace of the Congress, when she saw Nul Thess, one of the Empire’s ambassadors, walking her way with the planet’s Speaker for the House, Representative Biko.

 

They were deep in simple-minded conversation when she stood to greet them.

 

“Representative Biko, Ambassador Thess,” she saluted them both. “I request to speak with you.”

 

“This is hardly the time,” Thess stated sourly. “We have important business…”

 

The Yorenese raised a hand. “Let the pretty lady talk. What is it you wish to say? Please be brief, we do have lots at hand…”

 

Joan nodded. “Representative, I have been here for three days without getting anywhere with my assignment. It appears all my business here has been for naught and I beg your leave to depart.”

 

“You have not been assigned off this world,” Thess growled. “You should speak to me…”

 

“This is my world,” Biko stated. “The woman is right to come to me. No one comes or goes from Yoren without a signed visa from one of our planetary officials. But why come to me?”

 

“You are the highest authority on this world, sir,” Joan stated. “I would like to depart quickly to see to other matters of the Empire.” Really, though, she just wanted to get off this boring planet as quickly as possible.

 

Biko nodded. “I understand. You are busy too, no doubt. I’m very sorry that you were not able to accomplish what you came for.”

 

Joan withheld a scoff. He should be sorry that this has been a major waste of my time, she thought to herself. Him and the Dark Council.

 

“Well, I’ll be sure to let the Ministry know of your departure,” Thess frowned.

 

“I’ll tell them myself, thank you, ambassador,” Joan nodded politely, though in her mind she was thinking all sorts of profane things to call him. She was a cipher agent, and well above him in the chain of command. And she was one who actually cared how the Empire and its people fared.

 

All he cared about were the luxuries he had in his visit to this worthless world.

 

Just then, a man came bolting down the hall – a Yorenese security officer.

 

“Representative!” he called. “Come and see! Quick!”

 

“What’s the matter?” Biko asked.

 

“Come and see! Come and see! There are ships descending over the planet! And people are dropping lifeless in the street!”

 

“What?!”

 

Biko followed the officer, Thess and Joan quickly behind him. They came out to a great balcony and saw what the man meant.

 

Up in the skies, six Imperial dreadnaughts loomed like immense storm clouds. Several smaller ships surrounded them…and something that Joan couldn’t recognize at all. It looked like a giant sphere, nearly as large as one of the Star Destroyers.

 

“What is the meaning of this?” Biko whirled around, his face nearly purple with rage, shoving a finger into Thess’ chest. “How dare the Empire invade Yoren!”

 

“Representative…” the ambassador blubbered. “I…I don’t know what’s going on…I know nothing of an invasion…”

 

“Lies!” Biko spat in his face. “Lies! The Empire is full of lies!”

 

Joan shook her head. He didn’t know the half of it.

 

“Arrest him!” Biko ordered the security officer. “Arrest them both!”

 

“Sir,” the guard protested. “What about the invasion? What shall we do?”

 

“What can you do?” Joan shrugged.

 

“I’ll see you both dead for this treachery!” Biko roared.

 

But then the city was bursting into flames. Lasers showered from the ships above, destroying buildings, and crumbling the gleaming spires of the Palace.

 

Screaming rose like the sea over the city – the screams of panic, distress…and something else…

 

Suddenly, Biko, Thess, and the security officer grabbed their skulls and wailed in pain. They then dropped limp to the ground.

 

Joan heard it then, a screeching and a horrible voice speaking incoherently in her mind. Pain racked through her body and she felt her world spin as the floor rose to meet her face.

 

She fought against it, as hard as she could. All around, past the shrieking, she could hear the similar wailing of the people throughout the city. Throughout the planet even.

 

In the sky, the small ships spewed forth thousands of small fighters that descended over the city.

 

No…she realized. They weren’t fighters.

 

A loud buzzing filled the air, like a million insects swarming towards her. When the flying objects drew closer, she realized that they were insects. Countless hundreds…even thousands.

 

The bombardment stopped, though fires still raged across the landscape. The swarm of insects descended into the city, and rose again with limp, unconscious people in their claws.

 

They were flying this way…towards the palace.

 

Above, the ships were descending too. The shadow of the warships loomed over the city, darkening the burning streets. And the sphere…

 

It was preparing to land atop the palace, its bottom seemed to open up as if to consume the entire building. Inside, she saw only darkness.

 

Actually, that may have appeared so because her strength had given out on her. The shrieking in her head was too much. Her whole body went limp and numb, she couldn’t feel anything anymore. She couldn’t move at all.

 

Then she saw the ground shrink away from her. The last thing she saw was the hideous insectoid creature gripping her lifeless body and carrying her into the air.

 

And then everything went out.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Four

 

The crew of the Lone Eagle decided to give the tower a wide berth after what had just happened. It may have been the source of what had happened, they figured, but they weren’t going to take any more chances if more of those things emerged.

 

Instead, they started searching around for any signs of survivors or at least signs of what might have happened. For several hours, they found nothing at all.

 

But then, just as they were about to give up on looking for anyone, they heard a faint noise a ways off, muffled beneath the wreckage of a structure.

 

Targon rushed over to the source and commenced to lift the wreckage up one block at a time. Xana and Sorgal joined in, and soon, they had uncovered a single man, battered and moaning weakly.

 

They rushed to the man’s side and studied him. It didn’t look like there were any broken ribs…this man was extremely fortunate.

 

Lifting him out of the rubble, they laid him down carefully on the street. They searched in vain for anything soft to put under his head, but the man didn’t look like he cared if he was comfortable at all.

 

The man had a hard face, pale skin, and his eyes told that he hadn’t slept for ages. Scars, some recent, others much older, adorned his skin all over, especially one over his right eye. The back of his head had been bleeding, mixing red with his navy blue hair.

 

He groaned and looked up at them.

 

“It’s alright,” Targon said softly. “You’re safe now.”

 

The man simply groaned painfully in response.

 

“Can you tell us what happened here?” Sorgal asked.

 

Xana frowned at him. “Can’t you see he’s hurt? He probably can hardly talk…”

 

“I can talk just fine,” the man stated weakly. “I’m not dead yet.”

 

Everyone glanced down at him. His blue eyes stared back at them – they looked strong, despite the rest of his body’s condition.

 

“Who are you?” Targon asked.

 

“My name is Yohon…Onoma.”

 

“Do you know what happened?” Rick asked.

 

The man nodded. “Imperial ships…they came from nowhere. They attacked without warning…and then everyone dropped dead.”

 

“Dropped dead?” Gabrielle’s eyes widened.

 

“Or unconscious, I don’t know,” the man shrugged.

 

“Do you know what it was that caused it?” Greyhawk asked. “Gas? Poison?”

 

“Something…in the mind…” Yohon replied. “I heard it…shrieking…and a foul voice…”

 

“Then what?” Sorgal asked impatiently.

 

Yohon paused for a moment, and then continued. “Then…this thing…descended over the tower. It was a giant…spheroid…an egg, I thought it looked like. Hundreds of these…creatures…picked up the bodies and took them into the object. It was like their hive or something.”

 

“What did they do with them?” Targon asked.

 

“I don’t know…” the man replied. “The rubble collapsed on me during the attack. That’s why the bugs didn’t find me. I just listened… There were countless screams from within that thing. Then shrieking…and then silence.”

 

“Where’s this…sphere…now?” Rick asked. “We just came from the tower. There wasn’t anything there but vines…and one of those bugs.”

 

“Must have left it behind,” Yohon groaned. “To find me…the voice in my head…it knew I was still here.”

 

“What was the voice?”

 

“A Sith,” the man replied. “I don’t know how, but I know it was a Sith. It spoke like one…it laughed and jeered like one. It told me that this place was an easy test subject…it needed a better one.”

 

“What? Do you know where whoever did this went?”

 

“I’m not sure,” the man shook his head. “I thought I heard…Yoren. That’s a world not too far away.”

 

“That’s probably where we’ll find it,” Targon stated.

 

“And what?” Rick asked. “We’re just going to follow it? Seek it out? Are you nuts?”

 

“Whatever it is, it needs to be stopped,” Targon countered. “There’s no time to relax now. We have to stop this before more worlds are attacked. Whatever this thing is…whatever it wants…we need to stop it.”

 

“Can’t the Republic stop it?” Valens asked. “Why should we get involved?”

 

“Oh, right,” Sorgal smirked. “I forgot you haven’t been with us very long. This is the sort of thing we do.”

 

“The Republic is busy fighting the Empire,” Targon sighed. “We should find out what this thing is…then we can tell the Republic. But we need to know what it is and how it can be stopped.”

 

Rick groaned. “You know, I went straight to have a normal life. Not to chase after apocalyptic dangers to the galaxy.”

 

“That’s what you get for bringing a Jedi on your ship,” Greyhawk stated.

 

“Don’t remind me.”

 

“Well, we can’t just leave him here,” Xana stated. But when they glanced down at Yohon, they were shocked to see that he had disappeared.

 

“What the…?!” Valens gasped.

 

“Did he just become…what is it...one with the Force?” Rick asked.

 

Targon frowned and shook his head. “No…he’s just…gone.”

 

“How?”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Sorgal growled. “It’s one less mouth to feed. Come on, let’s go after this doomsday situation. Yoren is where we’re headed, I guess.”

 

It was a quick trip back to the ship. They were cautious, though, keeping their weapons ready in case any more things might jump out at them. But it appeared that wouldn’t be the case here. They were alone on this world once again.

 

Boarding the ship, they hurried to get off-world. The Lone Eagle’s engines revved to life and the vessel rose into the sky.

 

Clouds gave way to stars as they ascended. Once they were free of the atmosphere, Rick punched in the coordinates to Yoren. He did so slowly.

 

“I don’t like this one bit,” he scowled.

 

“Neither do I,” Targon sighed. “I would have liked a few easy days…but that doesn’t seem to be our path.”

 

“Maybe we just need to get off the one we’re on and go find it.”

 

“Would that I could,” Targon smiled. “But it is a Jedi’s duty to protect the galaxy and the Republic.”

 

“Yeah, well, only two people on this ship are Jedi,” Rick pointed out.

 

“Are you going to quit?” Targon asked, concerned.

 

“Did I say that?” Rick countered.

 

“You never know what someone leaves unspoken.”

 

“Wise words,” Rick nodded. “Where’d you hear that? I never said it.”

 

“My master, Tieru,” Targon replied.

 

Rick nodded. “Ah, well, I’ll try not to bring up bad memories for you. Well, off we go…”

 

He pushed the lever and the stars turned to lines. They shot into hyperspace, leaving Shanxi well behind.

 

But only for a moment.

 

The ship jolted violently and dropped out of hyperspace. Everyone was thrown about crudely. Rick and Targon slammed into the dashboard, but luckily didn’t break their noses.

 

“What was that?!” Greyhawk’s voice bellowed through the ship.

 

Rick glanced out the window. There was nothing but stars about.

 

“We were yanked out of light speed,” he stated.

 

“I gathered that,” Valens’ voice joined Greyhawk’s resounding through the halls. “Why? Are we attacked by pirates?”

 

Rick frowned. “Scanners don’t detect any other ships…”

 

“Why are we shouting across the ship to each other?” Gabrielle asked.

 

Targon felt a shudder through the Force. “Someone is here…”

 

“Who?”

 

“I don’t know…but it’s familiar.”

 

Rick stood. “I’ll check security feeds to see if there’s anything wrong with the ship’s exterior…or if we suffered damage.”

 

Just then a strange sound echoed through the ship.

 

It was the sound of someone knocking on the airlock.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Five

 

One of the Blackguard entered into Moff Taan’s office without knocking. He saluted silently as the Chiss looked up with his glittering red eyes.

 

“There had best be a reason for this disturbance,” Taan stated as he stood from his desk, smoothing his stark white uniform.

 

The armored soldier nodded and stepped aside. “You have a visitor.”

 

“It had better be an important visit,” Taan growled.

 

A man entered the office, chuckling. His red and violet robes flowed around him, and his face was hidden behind an expressionless mask.

 

“My visits are always important,” Lord Mortis said.

 

“To you, perhaps,” Taan pointed to a seat he deigned to offer the Sith Lord. “They are getting to be quite a nuisance of late. Viruul would not be pleased to know of my conversations with you.”

 

Mortis waved his hand as he sat, causing the guard to leave and the door to close after him. “Does he know?”

 

Taan frowned. “You wouldn’t be here – alive – if he did.”

 

Mortis laughed at that. “The fact you haven’t told him is good news indeed. I knew you wouldn’t, though.”

 

“Did you now, indeed?”

 

The Sith nodded. “You were an admiral not too long ago, until Viruul raised you to Moff. You’ve had a taste of power, and it has inflamed your ambition.”

 

“What would you know of my ambition?” Taan sat and folded his arms, staring at the Sith from across the desk.

 

“Plenty…enough…what does it matter?” Mortis shrugged. “I know well enough that you groan under Viruul’s heel. You do his bidding, and endure his anger at your failings. But they’re not your failings, are they?”

 

Taan shook his head. “I see your spies are busy.”

 

“I have no spies,” Mortis waved his hand. “I know all. I am Sith.”

 

“Viruul is a Sith too,” Taan pointed out. “Yet he does not know of our exchange.”

 

Mortis chuckled. “Viruul is a fool. A blind fool that has outlived his usefulness to the Empire. As have many others.”

 

“To you,” Taan corrected. “They’re useless to you.”

 

“And I am the Empire,” Mortis laced his fingers. “Or I will be, soon enough. Viruul has few friends on the Council, fewer still in the rest of the Empire. And the others…they are sheep ready to follow my lead.”

 

“Don’t let them hear you say that,” Taan pointed a harsh finger at him.

 

“They know nothing,” Mortis shrugged. “And they can do nothing. My plans have already been put to motion, and my servants and allies are fulfilling their parts. Very soon, the Empire will be mine.”

 

“Yours? What of the Moffs? The Emperor?”

 

“The Emperor stays hidden, and cares nothing for day to day affairs. He will remain where he is…aloof. As for the Moffs, well, those that aren’t weak are too stupid to remain in their position.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

“But not you,” Mortis laughed. “I know of your ambition, your prowess in command, and your ability to maintain control. The only reason you aren’t higher in position is that you are stuck beneath Viruul’s boot.”

 

“I’m a Moff,” Taan stated. “There is no higher position…”

 

“What about Grand Moff?”

 

Taan cut short, his eyes flashed with rare shock. “What did you say?”

 

“The old regime is soon to be gone,” Mortis stated. “Viruul with his folly, Jadus with his silence, and Kilran with his charisma. People are going to have to replace them. How about you, Taan? How does Grand Moff of the Empire sound?”

 

Taan sat back and tapped his chin. “This is a unique offer, something unlike any you’ve offered before.”

 

“Of course,” Mortis nodded. “That’s because the clock is ticking. The tide is coming in, and it will wash away everything that cannot stand against it.”

 

“And Viruul can’t stand against you?” Taan cocked an eyebrow.

 

“If you believed there was even the remotest chance of his triumph, you wouldn’t be talking with me, Taan. I know you well enough to verify that.”

 

“He may not be liked in the Ministry…or the military, for the most part…but he has his apprentice. She’s a monster. And he has friends among bounty hunters.”

 

“Bounty hunters are friends to no one,” Mortis shook his head.

 

“Viruul has money,” Taan countered. “That’s all the mercenaries need.”

 

“But that can be changed. You know his mercenary…friends, as you call them…You can arrange for their removal. He also believes he has you under his control. Imagine what would happen if his own shield turned into an enemy’s blade? There is nothing he could do.”

 

Taan frowned. “You talk and scheme carelessly, as though this is all a game to you.”

 

“But it is a game,” Mortis stood. “A game of thrones – it’s the way of the Sith. Viruul is losing, and if you lose, you die.”

 

Taan stood, staring at the faceless mask of the Sith. “Your plan is bold, but it will not succeed without my support.”

 

“That is likely true,” Mortis nodded. “Do I have it?”

 

He held out his hand.

 

“Sith deals are always double-edged…”

 

“But they are worth the risk, if you’re strong enough. Are you?”

 

Taan reached across the desk and shook Mortis’ hand.

 

---

 

Joan awoke in darkness. Slowly, a faint light started up…but it was still too dim to see anything.

 

She groaned and tried to rub her forehead. But then she found she couldn’t move her arms. She tried again, and still no success. She couldn’t move her arms, her legs, or any part of her.

 

It was even hard to breathe. It felt like something was constricting her lungs.

 

The air was warm and moist, far too humid for comfort.

 

Slowly, her senses were returning to her. She could smell foulness in the air. She could hear the constant droning of insect wings. She could feel an immense pulse emanating from the walls.

 

Her eyesight was improving, as well. She saw why she was unable to move – she was bound tight by some cords against the wall. But these were no cords, or ropes, or vines. These were strands of red…something…and it seemed almost alive.

 

Looking around, she saw others. Thousands of people, tied up in the same fashion as her. There were the Yorenese people, and the ambassadors.

 

It was a massive chamber they were in – perhaps the Palace, perhaps the sphere…she thought it might be both.

 

Those insect creatures zipped by and occasionally freed one of the people, carrying them off into the gloom. They were even more hideous up close. And they stunk like this mucky place she was in.

 

She could hear screaming in the distance. Horrid shrieks of terror and pain. Human cries…and inhuman as well. Despite her conditioning, Joan could not help but feel horrified and anxious about her situation.

 

Several times, she tried to break free of her bonds. But the more she struggled, the tighter they seemed to hold to her. When she relaxed, they loosened. At least, enough for her to breathe again.

 

It seemed that hours passed. Periodically, the insects took another of the captives. And then she would hear more screaming and wailing. And then the bugs would return.

 

One by one, people were disappearing. Representative Biko was gone. So was Ambassador Thess.

 

More hours passed, and then she heard footsteps drawing near. And voices.

 

All of a sudden, she was lowered from the wall, though the strands still bound her. She was set on the floor. Two people were standing over her.

 

“So, an Imperial Agent,” a voice hissed. “This was a surprise.”

 

“What shall we do with her, master?” the second voice asked.

 

“We should see what she knows,” the first person answered.

 

Joan looked up at the pair with disgust. They looked no better than the insects that swarmed the area.

 

The first was an insectoid person. His carapace was black, though, and his eyes were bright orbs of changing light. He was hunched over, keeping his four arms tucked close to his chest. His mandibles twitched as it studied her.

 

The other was a Zabrak woman…or at least, she had once been a Zabrak. Her skin was pale, but bloody streaks ran down her arms and torso. Strange growths jutted from her shoulders, elbows, and knees, tearing through what remained of her clothing. Her horns were longer than normal Zabraks, and her hair was ratty and filthy.

 

“Who are you?” the woman hissed.

 

“The name’s Snipes,” Joan answered simply.

 

“A nickname,” the bug growled. “All agents have silly code aliases.”

 

“I happen to like mine, thank you,” Joan spat at him.

 

The Zabrak kicked her. “Watch your tone, mongrel,” she hissed.

 

“Mongrel?” Joan ignored the slight trickle of blood from where her blow had landed. “That’s funny…coming from a Sith.”

 

“You know that we are Sith?” the insect-man peered at her.

 

“I can always tell a rotten Sith…even if they look like a bug.”

 

The Zabrak slapped her viciously.

 

“Arachne, enough!” the insect ordered. “This one has spirit and strength.”

 

“I’ll break that out of her,” the Zabrak snarled.

 

“No,” the insect shook his head. “She will make an excellent test subject. Lord Mortis will want to see what we can do with her.”

 

Joan frowned, confused. “Mortis? Of the Dark Council? What’s he got to do with your disgusting show?”

 

Arachne smiled. “She doesn’t know anything,” she stated.

 

“Unfortunately,” the other Sith nodded.

 

“Who are you?” Joan asked as she was being lifted up against the wall.

 

“I am Lord Arawn,” the bug replied. “And with Lord Mortis, we are bringing a new age to this galaxy.”

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Six

 

The knocking kept ringing through the ship. The whole crew had gathered, their weapons ready and their nerves tingling with caution.

 

There had been nothing seen on the security cameras outside. There was nothing to see – it was all just fuzzy static. Sensors reported that there was nothing at all.

 

The knocking suggested otherwise.

 

“What should we do?” Greyhawk asked. “We can’t just sit here, we need to get going.”

 

“If we open the airlock, we’ll space ourselves,” Valens countered.

 

“It’s considered rude to not answer the door,” Gabrielle shrugged.

 

Sorgal scoffed. “We could also say that it’s rude to pull someone out of hyperspace so abruptly.”

 

Targon sighed. “We won’t get any answers just sitting here. I’m opening the door.”

 

“No!” Valens shouted. “I won’t let myself be killed just because you’re curious, Jedi.”

 

Targon ignored the protests and moved towards the airlock. Looking through the window, he saw nothing but complete blackness. He reached tentatively towards the control panel…and pushed the button.

 

Immediately, he leapt back with saber drawn and activated.

 

A strange mist entered through the door, and then a shape emerged.

 

A person.

 

He was covered in a tight-fit body suit of Krayt Dragon scales. A double-bladed lightsaber hung at his side. An unsettling smile was on his familiar face.

 

“Master Karr!” Rick hissed.

 

“That’s not Minos Karr,” Sorgal stated.

 

The man laughed, his red reptilian eyes gleaming, his voice different than the Jedi Shadow’s had been.

 

“No, I am not Minos Karr,” he stated. “I greet you all cordially…as Lord Draco.”

 

Xana gasped, Targon raised an eyebrow of confusion, and Rick blurted, “You’re dead.”

 

“Who is he supposed to be?” Valens asked. “And why is he supposed to be dead?”

 

“Lord Draco is the man that took Kronos with him into the abyss,” Targon replied. “How?”

 

“Come now, Targon Karashi,” the man sighed. “You know I’m alive, you saw me in your vision.”

 

“You’re the one that killed Navor?!” Rick roared, raising his pistols. The others raised their weapons as well.

 

Draco shook his head, his smile disappeared. “I didn’t kill Navor. He killed himself in his rage. I released him from his dark prison.”

 

“I don’t like that rationale,” Greyhawk growled.

 

“Wait!” Xana stood between them and Draco. Her presence caused the men to hesitate, but not for very long.

 

“Move aside, girl!” Greyhawk ordered. “This man is a Sith, and a murderer.”

 

Xana did not budge. “He is…he was…my master.”

 

“Well,” Draco nodded. “It’s good to see not the entire crew is unhappy to see me.”

 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Rick stated. “One of us will push her out of the way while the rest gun you down.”

 

“No,” Targon stepped forward. “We should learn why he has come here.”

 

“Are you crazy?” Sorgal hissed. “Draco is one of the Dark Covenant.”

 

“Was,” Draco corrected. “And so were you, if I recall.”

 

“That’s different,” Sorgal glared at him.

 

“Is it? I disagree.”

 

“Hold on, hold on,” Valens stepped forward. “I think some explanation is in order.” He looked towards Draco. “Okay, pal, how the frell did you get here? From outside?”

 

Draco smiled. “Ah, well, I suppose I had better explain that by being honest. I have not come here alone.”

 

“Who else is coming through?” Rick asked.

 

Another figure stepped through the airlock, followed closely by another. The first was a tall woman, with long golden hair and brilliant blue eyes. It was her voice, and her companion, that let them know who it was.

 

“Greetings again,” Selendis smiled.

 

Everyone raised their weapons, even Targon. The shock of fear was palpable in the air. Fear and outrage, that is.

 

At the Sorceress’ side was a blue skinned creature with a face recognizable despite the immense alterations. It was once Anna-sa Kyja.

 

Greyhawk was about to waste no time pulling the trigger, and Rick and Gabrielle were about to follow.

 

Draco raised his arms in protest. “Hold, I beg you,” he pleaded. “We are not here to harm you.”

 

“Forgive us if we are deaf to your lies,” Rick hissed.

 

“They are not lies,” Selendis stated. “We have come to seek an alliance with you.”

 

That caused a major pause. Silence filled the ship.

 

“What sort of trickery is this?” Sorgal asked harshly.

 

“No trick,” Draco shook his head. “The hour is late, the situation desperate. You are on your way to Yoren to seek out this new threat. You do not realize what you are walking into.”

 

“And I suppose you do?” Rick asked.

 

Selendis nodded. “Yes.”

 

Targon lowered his saber. “If we believe you…and that’s a mighty big if…what is your angle? Why side with us? What is this danger to you?”

 

“We have come aboard from my ship, though it is no longer space-worthy,” Draco stated. “Our presence was masked from all…but we had to find you, to join you. This swarm that stripped Shanxi of life…”

 

“…It has befallen several other worlds as well,” Selendis finished for him. “The Sith have learned a corrupted form of my power, and they have unleashed it on the galaxy. My children…”

 

“They were destroyed,” Draco concluded. “Destroyed by this new power.” He gestured to Anna-sa. “This is the last.”

 

“The Empire defeated you?” Greyhawk scoffed.

 

“Not the Empire,” Selendis shook her head. “The Sith…particularly one called Darth Arawn.”

 

Targon’s eyes widened. He remembered that name…and the insect form it went with. Of all the Sith on Korriban, Arawn was the one Targon had most feared. And he knew who also served him…

 

“Is he a rogue?” Xana asked.

 

“No,” Draco replied. “He serves another master, a powerful Sith Lord that is making his power play. Together, they are using Sith sorcery to strip worlds of life…twisting the souls and bodies of their victims into horrid monsters.”

 

“But they are preparing something much worse,” Selendis continued. “They are prepared to destroy the balance of the galaxy. The conflict of Republic and Empire, Jedi and Sith…it will mean nothing.”

 

“And we are just supposed to believe your claims?” Rick asked. “From you, both that are not Jedi or Sith yourselves?”

 

“We do not forget that you both have tried to kill us,” Greyhawk growled.

 

“Kill you?” Draco chuckled. “I don’t recall either of us trying to kill you. We have both saved you. That I do remember.”

 

“I want you off my ship,” Rick barked. “Off! Or we’ll kill you.”

 

“That would be unwise,” Selendis peered at him with her piercing blue eyes. “We need you, and you need us. This enemy is a common foe, and we need to work together.”

 

“I would rather die!” Greyhawk spat.

 

“Then you will,” Draco sighed. “We will all die if we do not align against this abominable evil.”

 

Targon deactivated his lightsaber and sighed. All eyes turned to him.

 

“He is right,” Targon said softly. “I can feel the darkness…the immensity of this evil. They are not lying. We need each other.”

 

“You can’t be serious, Targon!” Rick growled.

 

“You know who they are as well as us!” Gabrielle concurred. “They’re evil!”

 

Targon shook his head. “No more than we are to others, I am sure. And they are no threat compared to something that can strip worlds of life. I remember Kronos, I fought him and watched him kill my master.”

 

“This is folly,” Sorgal hissed.

 

Targon took a deep breath. “We’ve gone from one folly to another in saving the galaxy from threats. This is no different.”

 

Draco and Selendis both smiled and nodded at him.

 

“Then we are allies in this,” Draco said.

 

“A foolish and dangerous alliance if ever I saw one,” Rick resigned reluctantly.

Edited November 18, 2012 by TargonKarashi