The Voyages of Targon Karashi

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Two

 

Rick had never been more happy to see the police than at this moment. For the first time in forever, these weren’t men here to arrest him. They were here to help him…and arrest the real bad guy.

 

The tiger gave himself up without a struggle, submitting to the cuffs and going to his knees quietly.

 

Medics and officers came to each of the crew’s sides, offering what aid Tygus was unable to administer himself. There wasn’t much, but Greyhawk and Xana were in worse condition than they looked.

 

A transport hurried to whisk them off to the hospital.

 

As one officer was wrapping his head, Rick noticed someone else approach him. He recognized him…it was that one Jedi, really tall and thin, from Corellia. Ryner Sanpo.

 

“Came as quick as I could,” the Jedi smiled. “With the right kind of police this time.”

 

Rick smirked softly at that, but then he winced as the bandages were finished up.

 

“Is everyone alright?” Rick asked. “I’m not willing to trust the word of a bounty hunter just yet.”

 

“We’ve taken Greyhawk and Xana,” Ryner replied. “They’re looking pretty bad. But the rest of you…you’re all fine, except for the kid and his leg.”

 

“The cat was telling the truth?”

 

“He probably saved a few of your lives,” Ryner shrugged. “Not sure what his intention was…but it bodes well for him, regardless.”

 

“Less of a sentence?”

 

“No one will be out to kill him if you guys had died.”

 

Rick frowned. “Are we really so popular?”

 

The Jedi laughed. “Believe it or not, yeah. There are quite a few individuals that would be mighty upset if you were killed. Admiral Cordillian, for one. He’s asked to see you as soon as you’re all…”

 

He paused.

 

“Where is Targon? He is the only one we haven’t accounted for…”

 

Rick sighed. “He’s gone.”

 

“Gone?”

 

“The other bounty hunters took him.”

 

“But they left the rest of you?”

 

“I guess we weren’t as special,” Rick shrugged. “I don’t know where they’d have taken him…somewhere in the Empire, no doubt.”

 

“That’s…unfortunate…”

 

“Putting it mildly, yeah.”

 

Ryner frowned and thought for a second. “I will contact the Jedi Council and tell them about what has happened. The police will take you all to the hospital to finish getting you all back on your feet.”

 

“Where are we supposed to meet the admiral, afterwards?” Rick asked.

 

“The admiral can wait,” Ryner stated. “I’ll come check on you all tomorrow and see how you’re doing. If you’re well enough, we’ll see him then.”

 

“What does he want?” Rick asked.

 

“Not sure, exactly,” Ryner shook his head. “I figured he was in need of your services…although seeing your situation and missing companion…”

 

“We’ll see him,” Rick sighed. “But unless he’s willing to help us find Targon, I’ll be a gundark’s uncle if I help him with anything.”

 

“I’d be the same way,” Ryner smiled.

 

“Guess more Jedi are real people than I thought,” Rick smiled. “I figured my first mate was the only one.”

 

---

 

Despite the gruffness of the doctors and the horrors of the food, Rick found that the hospital did wonders. True to Ryner’s predictions, he was up the next day, walking around and building back his strength.

 

Gabrielle and Sorgal were doing well, also. The others…they needed more time.

 

It wasn’t long before Ryner appeared to check on him. But he wasn’t alone.

 

Admiral Cordillian walked in behind the Jedi, and another person came behind him. Another Jedi.

 

This one Rick recognized, but he didn’t know very well.

 

“How are you feeling, Rick?” Master Cyrus asked.

 

“Better…uh…sir…thank you,” Rick fumbled for words.

 

“No need to call a Jedi Master, sir,” the half-human laughed. “Being on the Council doesn’t make us grander than any other Jedi. Something I think a few people should take to heart…”

 

“Good to see you up, captain,” Cordillian smiled. “The others should be doing well, the doctors say. We are…sorry for Targon.”

 

“He’s not dead yet,” Rick frowned.

 

“If he’s been taken to Korriban or Dromund Kaas, as we fear,” Cordillian sighed, “he might as well be.”

 

“Targon withstood that dust ball Korriban before,” Rick stated. “He’s strong…he’ll survive long enough for us to get to him.”

 

“Good to see you’re keeping faith,” Cyrus smiled. “Targon will need your strength as well as his own.”

 

“I didn’t mean to sound doubtful or submissive,” Cordillian stated. “We all want to see Targon safe, he’s a fine young man. The problem is that we have no way of getting to him.”

 

“Doesn’t the Republic do as much subterfuge as the Empire?” Rick asked.

 

“Not as much as we should,” the admiral shook his head. “And with what happened at Viserys…”

 

“We have to be patient,” Cyrus raised a finger. “We must wait for the right opportunity to present itself.”

 

“What opportunity?” Rick frowned. “It’s not like the Empire’s going to flaunt him out for us to grab.”

 

“Maybe not,” Cyrus nodded. “But Targon may make his own escape, or we will find him at a place where we can reach him. But not now.”

 

“Why not now?” Rick’s frown grew into a scowl.

 

“We need your help,” Cordillian stated. “We need you and your crew to aid in the struggle for Alderaan.”

 

“Alderaan?” Rick jumped back, shaking his head violently. “Like hell! I’m going to get Targon back. If I have to do it myself, then fine. But if you can’t – or won’t – help me do it, I’m not helping you.”

 

“We do plan to help,” Ryner sighed. “We all want him back.”

 

“We just need your help first,” Cordillian added. “Targon is strong, as Master Cyrus said. Strong enough to withstand the Sith for some time, we hope. But Alderaan is failing…the Empire and the self-proclaimed king…it’s chaos.”

 

“And things are getting much worse,” Cyrus nodded. “A new assault is being prepared by the Sith and their allies against the Republic and House Organa. An attack led by Darth Scorpius, the same commander that conquered Viserys and slew Master Wixas and many other powerful Jedi.”

 

“What does that have to do with my crew?” Rick asked. “It’s not like we did very well at that battle.”

 

“You all were some of the few survivors,” Cordillian stated. “And we’ve got a special task that only the likes of you and your friends could pull off.”

 

“As flattering as that is…” Rick began.

 

Ryner cut him off. “We are bringing the bounty hunter with us to question. We’ll do what we can to plan a rescue of Targon at the same time. But we need your cooperation.”

 

“I don’t like it,” Rick growled. “And I bet the others will like it even less…but…alright, we’ll do it.”

[TargonKarashi]

Wow, I dropped off for a while...well, I figured I need to finish this story up for the people who read it. So, we're starting it up again. Hope I do better in keeping things consistent.

 

Chapter Three

 

Rick had gone from one room to another, informing Greyhawk, Gabrielle, and Sorgal of the news. None of them were happy with the situation – or what the Republic was asking them to do.

 

“The damn Republic court-martialed me for doing the right thing,” Greyhawk had growled. “Why should I fight battles that don’t concern me? We’ve already done enough for them as it is.”

 

That was surprising to hear from the old soldier, but Rick understood his feeling perfectly. But despite his rant, Greyhawk sighed and consented. A soldier to the bone, Rick noted.

 

Gabrielle wasn’t any more pleasant.

 

“It’s about time people started paying me for my services,” she pouted. “I am – was – a bounty hunter after all. We can’t eat or get anywhere if we’re always doing things for them pro bono.”

 

“Maybe we can get them to pay us this time?” Rick suggested.

 

“How? The Republic is tight on money as it is.”

 

Rick didn’t have an answer for that.

 

He left her pouting, but he figured she would follow along. Rick had the ship, after all. And a lot of her attitude was a veneer, he had discovered. She would help, for his sake, at least.

 

Both Greyhawk and Gabrielle might as well have been giddy with joy for the news…compared to the Sith’s response.

 

The hospital bed creaked and groaned, and then flipped over. The lights flickered and the floor tiles trembled as Sorgal seethed in anger.

 

“No!” he roared. “I’ve had enough serving the Republic and getting nothing in return!”

 

“What other choice do we have?” Rick asked. “A Jedi Master and the admiral are asking us to…”

 

“I don’t care if it was your Supreme Chancellor or the Grand Moff!” Sorgal bellowed. “I’m not a mercenary or a patriot to bring to bear! I have my own things to attend to!”

 

“Like what?” Rick countered.

 

Sorgal fumed.

 

“I don’t need to be some lackey of anyone – Empire or Republic. I can go my own way, and I will!”

 

“Don’t you owe it to Targon to help?”

 

“This isn’t about helping Targon,” Sorgal hissed. “This is doing the bidding of authority that I do not answer to!”

 

“The others have agreed…”

 

“Well good for them!” Sorgal spat. “I’ll find passage on a freighter off Coruscant and do whatever I damn well please!”

 

Rick didn’t dare try to push it any further…the Sith might have pulled his lightsaber on him.

 

He sighed in resignation and prepared to leave Sorgal’s room.

 

He found the entrance blocked.

 

Xana stood there, still leaning to one side and favoring her left arm. She was healing, though, and she there was a

grim determination in her eyes.

 

“We’re going to help them on Alderaan,” she stated.

 

“And since when do I take orders from you?” Sorgal frowned.

 

“We have a duty…”

 

“Not me!”

 

Xana ignored him. “A duty to Targon. If he was here, we would all be following him to Alderaan. But he’s not here, so we must do what we can in his place.”

 

To Rick’s astonishment, Sorgal’s furious demeanor subsided. The Sith shook his head and sighed, plopping down on the overturned bedside.

 

“Fine,” he uttered in a low voice. “Fine.”

 

Rick said nothing, there was nothing he dared say at this moment. He simply walked out into the hallway and closed the door.

 

Xana sighed and leaned against the wall.

 

“Thanks for your support,” Rick said.

 

“Don’t misunderstand,” the Falleen stated. “I don’t like this any more than he does. I’d say I like it less. But…but it’s what Targon would want…and…”

 

“And what?” Rick cocked his head.

 

“And I feel something else,” Xana finished. “Something…I can’t explain it…”

 

“Well, it’s good enough for me,” Rick shrugged.

 

He walked off. One more person to visit.

 

Rick was about to knock on Valens’ door when he heard voices on the other side. Female voices.

 

He opened the door without knocking.

 

“How are we feeling, kid?” Rick asked. “Better?”

 

“Quite,” Valens smiled.

 

The young man was still bandaged up, and even still hooked up to a bacta canister. But beyond that, he seemed fine.

 

That might have been from the lady, Nalia, and a bunch of other exotic women surrounding his bed and pampering him.

 

“What’s all this?” Rick asked, though he knew the answer well enough.

 

“The lovely Queen of the Underworld has been expressing gratitude for saving her life,” Valens replied.

 

“So it would appear,” Rick nodded.

 

“He’s the bravest man I’ve ever met,” Nalia stated.

 

“Yes, yes I am,” Valens grinned.

 

Rick chuckled at that.

 

“Well, kid, I came here to tell you that we’re shipping out.”

 

“Yeah…” Valens shook his head. “About that…”

 

“You have other plans, I take it?” Rick finished.

 

“Well, you see…Nalia has offered me a position within her…organization.”

 

“Accounting or human resources?”

 

Valens laughed at that. “Come on, you know I’m no good with either of those.”

 

“What other position could you have?”

 

The young man hesitated. “Well, Nalia likes to free slaves – female slaves – and give them hospitality in her estates. She offers them all sorts of…entertainments.”

 

Rick blinked several times.

 

Valens continued. “And, well, you see…they have this tradition of reversing roles…and…”

 

“Don’t tell me you want to be a…”

 

“Valens will be a man of great honor and praise,” Nalia stated.

 

“Say no more,” Rick raised his hands. “If that’s what you want, Val, then go ahead. Have a good life…and a fun one at that.”

 

“Thanks for understanding,” Valens smiled. “I hope to see you again…if you survive your ‘dangerous’ mission.”

 

“We’ll survive,” Rick smiled. “And we’ll see you again…for sure.”

 

He started for the door. He needed to get out while he still could control himself.

 

“Oh,” Valens called him. “That tiger bounty hunter was trying to reach me to…what did he say? Oh, apologize. Tell him to shove that apology up his…”

 

“Got it, got it,” Rick cut him off and closed the door behind him.

 

He took a few paces and then he could hold it in no longer.

 

Rick broke into a hysterical fit of laughter. He couldn’t breathe, and he nearly toppled to the floor.

 

“You alright?” someone asked him.

 

It took a few moments to recover, but finally, Rick wiped away the tears and started breathing again. He turned to the feline bounty hunter standing nearby.

 

“Oh, it’s you,” Rick sighed. “I’m fine, just…humored.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Seems my old pal, Valens, has decided to join a reverse harem.”

 

The tiger stared at him. “Oh. About him…I’ve been trying to reach him to…”

 

“Don’t,” Rick shook his head. “Valens isn’t one to accept apologies from anyone. Believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve done far worse to him than you…Tygus, was it?”

 

The cat nodded.

 

“Well, if I can’t make it up to him, allow me to make it up to you.”

 

“What do you mean?” Rick asked.

 

“You are in need of a new crewman,” Tygus stated. “I would fill the vacancy.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I’ve got a lot of things to atone for…a lot of dark things I’ve done in my life.”

 

Rick turned solemn. “Join the club.”

 

“Perhaps with you, I can start making things right.”

 

Rick was quiet for a moment and then he nodded. “You know, I think we have more in common than either of us suppose. Yes, we will have you, so long as we can trust you.”

 

“I will not betray that trust,” Tygus bowed his head.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Four

 

Rick did not like having his ship docked in a Republic cruiser’s hangar. He remembered all too well the last times they had stayed on a warship.

 

But there was nothing to be done, and so the Lone Eagle was sitting in the bay, and her crew was lounging in the quarters provided for them.

 

The Sword of Truth, Cordillian’s flagship, was a lot larger and more spacious than Autumn Moon had been. None of the crew were required to work on the ship. They were, however, instructed to attend all briefings and meetings with the commanders.

 

For several hours during the trip, they hadn’t anything to do but sit and wait. Greyhawk disassembled and then reassembled his equipment several times over. Gabrielle played cards with Rick, and she was winning despite the captain’s attempts to cheat.

 

Sorgal sat and brooded, Xana was trying to meditate. There was a conflicting air in the cabin emanating from those two. No one needed to be Force sensitive to feel it.

 

There was a ping at the door.

 

Sighing, Rick rose and answered. In the entrance was none other than Lt. Colonel Aric Trinn.

 

“Well, fancy seeing you again,” Rick stated, his tone inflecting absolutely zero surprise.

 

“Funny, isn’t it?” Trinn replied with the same tone.

 

“What can we do for you, colonel?” Rick asked. “Want to come in and sit down? Perhaps you could play with guns with Greyhawk, or join Gabi and I with cards?”

 

“Sorry, no,” the soldier shook his head. “Admiral Cordillian wishes to speak with you.”

 

“Does he now?” Rick frowned. “What for?”

 

“He didn’t say,” Trinn answered. “Best not to keep him waiting.”

 

“The Admiral isn’t a Sith.”

 

Trinn sighed. “Shall I tell him you aren’t coming?”

 

“No, I’m coming,” Rick shook his head. He turned to Greyhawk. “Hey, gramps, would you finish the game with Gabrielle while I’m gone?”

 

“He’ll probably do better than you were,” Gabrielle smirked.

 

Rick rolled his eyes.

 

“I’m a little busy,” the old soldier stated.

 

“Busy? You’ve assembled that blaster rifle thirteen times already! You must know the workings of that thing down to the smallest screw!”

 

“Nothing better to do?”

 

“Um, how about playing with a beautiful girl?”

 

Greyhawk snorted. “That’s your place, captain. Mine is with my guns.”

 

Rick growled. “Whatever.”

 

He walked out the door and followed Trinn down the hall. They traveled silently through the halls and rooms until they reached the elevator.

 

Once the door closed and they were moving, the young colonel broke the silence.

 

“I’m sorry about what happened to Targon,” he said softly.

 

Rick sighed. “Not as sorry as I am.”

 

“I understand your reluctance to work with the admiral. Were one of my team missing, I would feel the same way.”

 

“There’s nothing for us to do anyway,” Rick shook his head. “No idea where he is…and no chance to fight the entire Empire to look for him.”

 

“That shouldn’t stop you,” Trinn stated.

 

“Easy for you to say,” Rick countered. “You’re a professional soldier – with all the weapons and assets of the Republic at your disposal.”

 

“No, I don’t,” the soldier shook his head.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Personal vendettas aren’t sponsored by the Republic military. If I wanted to do something like rescuing a friend…I’d need to do it on my own time, and with my own resources.”

 

“That’s odd,” Rick frowned. “I thought you military types got lots of perks.”

 

The elevator pinged and opened.

 

“Ask the admiral,” Trinn said simply.

 

Rick stepped out and the doors shut behind him. Now he was alone in the hall.

 

There was a single door a ways down. Rick was certain it was the admiral’s quarters.

 

He took a few breaths and rang the buzzer.

 

“Come in,” a voice said from the other side.

 

With a click, the door unlocked and opened. Rick walked through the entrance and came into a simple room with a few run-down pieces of furniture.

 

At the large window on the opposite side of the room, Rayner Cordillian stood staring out into the streaks of hyperspace flying by.

 

The admiral turned around and gave Rick a soft smile.

 

“Ah, Captain Orlan, thank you for coming.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Rick shrugged.

 

Cordillian gestured to a desk with two seats prepared. “Have a seat.”

 

Rick complied silently. The chair was hard and stiff – hardly an item of comfort or luxury.

 

“Where did you get these chairs?” Rick groaned. “The slums of Nar Shaddaa?”

 

Cordillian chuckled. “Something like that, I suppose.”

 

“I thought a naval officers’ quarters were comfortable…especially an admiral’s?”

 

“Most are,” Cordillian nodded. “I do not share that philosophy.”

 

“Got anything to drink, then?” Rick asked, hopeful.

 

The admiral nodded and reached into the desk. He pulled out a pair of glasses and a bottle of simple wine.

 

“Nothing fancy, I’m afraid,” Cordillian sighed.

 

“If it’s alcoholic, I’m not complaining,” Rick replied.

 

After pouring, the admiral sat down himself on the opposite chair. If the stiffness bothered him, he had long since learned to hide it well.

 

“Again, I’d like to apologize to you for bringing you here,” Cordillian sighed. “I know you’d rather be looking for a way to rescue young Targon.”

 

“Dragging me away from my mission to help yours,” Rick frowned.

 

“Mine?”

 

“I read the briefings,” Rick took a large sip. “Alderaan is your homeworld, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes, it is,” the admiral answered softly.

 

“So we’re saving your world, instead of saving my friend.”

 

“If you want to look at it that way…”

 

Rick was surprised at the response. He had expected a rebuke of authority or something of the sort. Cordillian didn’t look like he was willing to make any sort of argument.

 

“I have just one question, then,” Rick placed his glass down.

 

“Then I have one answer,” Cordillian responded.

 

“Why have you waited so long?” Rick asked. “Alderaan has been in trouble for some time now, why haven’t you come sooner to fight for your home?”

 

Cordillian was silent for several long moments. He never touched his glass.

 

Finally, he sighed and spoke.

 

“I have my duty,” the admiral answered. “A duty to my people and country. The Republic is made of thousands of worlds, Rick. Each world is important, each soldier has a planet they call home. Chandrila, Ryloth, Corellia, Telos, Ord Mantell…countless worlds.”

 

Cordillian paused then to take a drink.

 

“As an admiral of the Republic Navy, I must serve and fight for each of these worlds. Alderaan is my home, yes, and I tremble with worry each night as the chaos continues. But I will not let my devotion to my home override my loyalty to the other worlds I am sworn to protect.”

 

“That almost seems…insensitive,” Rick frowned.

 

“Perhaps,” Cordillian nodded. “I have my duty, and I’ve asked you to help. We all have a loyalty to the Republic…and we need to show it. Plenty of soldiers are devoted to the Empire, and if their resolve is stronger than ours, the Sith will win this war.”

 

“So the military needs to be united in a cause,” Rick sighed.

 

“Exactly,” Cordillian nodded. “If every soldier ran off to protect his or her own planet…we would lose them all. Make no mistake, Rick, I will fight to the death for Alderaan. But in that, I fight no harder than I fought to protect a dozen other planets that I had never seen before.”

 

“I understand,” Rick nodded.

 

“Then perhaps we shall succeed,” Cordillian smiled weakly. “If we all know the stakes, then we’ll all be willing to do what is required.”

 

A voice rang over the intercom.

 

“Arriving at Alderaan, all hands to stations.”

 

Cordillian sighed and took a last drink.

 

“Come, my friend. Let’s get to our duty.”

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Five

 

Alderaan was a gleaming and brilliant gem in the black of space, shining with blue and white.

 

Beneath the peaceful mask, however, was a tortured and crumbling world of violent schemes and plots by the many houses.

 

It wasn’t much easier in orbit, Rick noticed.

 

Dozens of ships – Republic, Empire, smuggler, and others unaffiliated – swarmed over the planet. Entrenched lines were being formed, and all had cannons at the ready to start shooting.

 

The Sword of Truth, and its seven escort cruisers, seemed only a small addition to the motley mess of ships, but their arrival had not gone unnoticed.

 

An armed warship approached them, trailed by a pair of Imperial dreadnaughts. The lead ship was not of Imperial design, though it bore the Sith emblem upon it.

 

All guns were pointed at the new fleet.

 

Cordillian ordered all weapons powered up and prepared, as well as shields ready to be raised at a second’s notice. Yet he kept an easy pace, not diverting his direction or changing the ships’ speed.

 

“Orders, sir?” a bridge lieutenant asked the admiral.

 

“Contact the lead ship,” Cordillian answered. “I want to know why we’re being blocked so rudely after we just got here.”

 

A hail was sent, but there was no reply for a long time.

 

“All stop,” Cordillian ordered. “I’ve no desire to play ‘Chicken’ with these Imperials.”

 

The ships came to a stop, and both forces stared at each other from an alarmingly short distance between them.

 

“Contact them again,” the admiral ordered.

 

This time, the ship responded.

 

An image appeared on the screen. It was poorly lit on the opposite channel, but someone was sitting there in front of the camera.

 

“State your name and business, Republic fleet,” the person ordered gruffly. It was a woman’s voice.

 

Cordillian straightened.

 

“This is the Republic battleship, Sword of Truth, and her escorts. We have come into this system inside neutral space. You will remove yourselves from our path.”

 

The woman laughed at that.

 

“I was told you’d be coming,” her voice stated. “You’re a bit late, though.”

 

“Identify yourself,” Cordillian demanded.

 

“I am Merani,” the woman stated, coming further into the light. Everyone on the bridge instantly recognized her outfit.

 

She was a Mandalorian.

 

“I speak for my commander, Warmaster Rasil Stark. He is the commander of Imperial space forces in this region of Alderaan’s orbit. You are not welcome here, Republic dogs.”

 

Rick perked up as he recognized the woman – he had seen her before on a couple occasions.

 

“I know you,” he blurted. “You worked for Algayne!”

 

The Mandalorian, the admiral, and everyone on the bridge stared at him.

 

“Quiet, please,” Cordillian whispered. “I am handling this…”

 

“You,” the woman hissed. “You’re that bantha filth, Rick Orlan. You above all are not welcome here.”

 

Cordillian spoke up, pushing past the tension on the bridge. “I am a Republic admiral, and this is neutral territory. You will remove yourself from our path or we shall be forced to open fire.”

 

“It’s neutral territory,” the woman growled. “We don’t have to obey your commands, Republic lackey.”

 

“Alright, that’s enough,” another voice said from the opposite side. A figure appeared on the screen and shooed Merani away.

 

This was a fully clad Mandalorian in battered armor. He held his helmet under his arm. All over his outfit were dozens of tallies and symbols scratched into the metal.

 

The man had only one good eye, the other was blind from a vicious wound across his face.

 

“I am Ravat, second in command to Warmaster Stark. As much as I would love a good fight, there is little to be gained from this standoff.”

 

“I’m glad that you are a reasonable man,” Cordillian smiled.

 

“Whatever,” the Mandalorian shrugged. “What is your cargo and purpose here?”

 

“You should know as well as I that neither Republic or Empire need answer such questions from the enemy.”

 

“Yes, but answer the damn question already,” the man sighed. “Neither of us wants to spend the whole day staring at each other.”

 

Cordillian sighed. “Supplies and reinforcements for Castle Organa and surrounding territories. Happy now? I’m sure your Imperial friends are doing the same for House Thul.”

 

“Figured as much,” Ravat yawned. “Well, as long as you’re willing to head along your current trajectory and refrain from any foolish antics, then you can be on your way.”

 

“Thank you,” Cordillian uttered through his teeth.

 

The screen went blank and the Imperial ships began to slowly move out of the way.

 

“What the devil was that all about?” Rick asked. “Just being bullies?”

 

“Pretty much,” Cordillian sighed. “But with the way things turned out…I don’t think this standoff is ending as easy as it appears.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean that these fools might…”

 

The bridge rocked as a sudden explosion pounded on the ship’s rear.

 

“A trick!” Cordillian growled. “I should have seen this coming!”

 

“I thought this was neutral turf!” Rick shouted as he grabbed a chair to keep from tumbling over.

 

“Seems the Mandalorians don’t like to play by the rules,” the admiral hissed. “Raise shields and engage! They might have the drop on us, but we have the numbers. We won’t go down so easy.”

 

He turned to Rick.

 

“Take your crew down on your ship. Meet Master Cyrus and Commander Trikal at Fort Alusia, just north of Castle Organa.”

 

“I thought Cyrus was coming with us?”

 

“He left early,” Cordillian shook his head. “He was needed there a lot sooner than we could arrive. No time for questions, go!”

 

Rick nodded and made for the elevator. With each shake of the ship, he staggered a bit, but with effort, he kept his footing.

 

Once in the elevator, he slammed his palm against his forehead.

 

“Even without Targon here, we’re still getting in this sort of trouble!”

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Six

 

Despite the suddenness, the whole of the crew was able to get to the Lone Eagle without too much trouble…or too many questions.

 

The fact that they were under attack was all the answer they needed.

 

Free from the hangar, the Lone Eagle darted away from the relatively small, but fierce, skirmish between Republic and Imperial ships.

 

Making their way to the planet, the crew only spoke once they were well clear of the battle.

 

“So, what the hell?” Sorgal asked. “What is it this time?”

 

“Mandalorians,” Rick sighed. “For some reason, some warmaster is in command and decided that it would be a good idea to start shooting at us.”

 

“Warmasters don’t command Imperial fleets,” Greyhawk frowned. “Not as far as I’ve ever heard.”

 

“Me neither,” Xana concurred. “I always thought Sith ordered them around.”

 

“It’s not like it really matters,” Gabrielle stated. “Fact is, we’re safe now. Where are we headed, Rick?”

 

“Fort Alusia,” he replied. “Guess we’re meeting up with some Jedi and soldiers. Don’t ask me what for, because I don’t know.”

 

“Explain to me why we’re always flying blindly, and by the seat of our pants, into these sorts of situations?” Sorgal groaned.

 

“This kind of thing is common for you?” Tygus asked.

 

“Are you kidding?” Gabrielle rolled her eyes.

 

Rick smirked. “This kind of thing happens on a daily basis, I’d say.”

 

“Lovely,” the tiger growled softly.

 

“Remember that you volunteered yourself to come along,” Gabrielle stated. “We didn’t invite you.”

 

“I’m not complaining,” Tygus shrugged.

 

“Could’ve fooled me.”

 

“Stow it,” Rick stated. “I’m trying to fly here!”

 

Everyone glared at him.

 

“Seriously!” Rick squirmed in his chair. “We’ve got important things to do.”

 

“Coming from you?” Sorgal cocked his head.

 

“Shut it, Sith,” Greyhawk growled. “Rick is the captain, after all.”

 

Rick nodded to the old soldier in thanks for the support and continued advancing the ship through the atmosphere.

 

A wide panorama of mountains, valleys, and lakes appeared beneath them. Glittering towers jabbed into the sky up at them.

 

For a moment, the whole crew was silent and enjoyed the view.

 

And then they saw the bright explosions amid the scene.

 

“Another day in the life,” Rick sighed.

 

---

 

Master Cyrus was waiting patiently as the Lone Eagle landed on a pad inside Fort Alusia. There were many ships in the docks, and many people bustling about.

 

“Looks more like a city than a fort,” Xana observed as they stepped down the ramp and onto the pad.

 

“It does,” Cyrus nodded. “Alusia is the center of command for a great deal of Republic forces in this region.”

 

“Look, Jedi,” Sorgal snorted. “We don’t need a guided tour or anything like that. Let’s just get to business.”

 

Cyrus glanced at him without expression.

 

“Very well, then,” he replied. “Follow me.”

 

The Jedi Master led them into a barracks where a little more than a dozen troopers were suiting up.

 

“Commander Trikal,” Cyrus called.

 

A dark skinned man looked up. He was clad in tan armor, blotched with green and hints of snowy white. Most of the other soldiers had similar outfits.

 

“These are them, then?” the man asked, looking over Rick and the crew.

 

“Yes,” Cyrus nodded.

 

“Look a little soft…or old,” the man pointed at Gabrielle, Xana, and then to Greyhawk.

 

“Old?” Greyhawk snorted. “And what’s that matter?”

 

“Watch your tone with me, former major,” the man spat back.

 

“Enough, enough,” Cyrus interceded. “This is Commander Trikal, leader of the Sixteenth Regiment here on Alderaan. Commander, this is Rick Orlan, Marc Avis, Gabrielle Vao, Xana Kalar…”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I read the file,” Trikal cut him off. “I know who they are…and what they’re supposedly capable of.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rick frowned.

 

“Means I don’t believe you’ve really been through what everyone says you have,” Trikal replied contemptuously. “Until I see your skills in the field for myself, then I’m not taking anyone at their words.”

 

“Not even a Jedi Master or Admiral Cordillian?” Xana scoffed.

 

“Not even the Chancellor or the Sith Emperor, missy,” Trikal stated bluntly.

 

“Well, he’s a cheery fellow,” Tygus whispered to Gabrielle.

 

“He and Sorgal will get along just fine,” she whispered back. “But how will we all get along with you?”

 

“You don’t need to worry about me,” the tiger stated.

 

“That’s what everyone says.”

 

“Enough chatter,” Trikal snapped. “See here, my troupe has been assigned to rescue the captured Baron Remus Organa. He’s a cousin and friend of the Duke, and so he’s of great importance and must be recovered.”

 

“Another rescue,” Rick spat. “Pulled away from one to go on another?”

 

“You have something to say?” Trikal growled at him.

 

“I do,” Sorgal cut in. “What’s the plan? More importantly, what’s the deal? So he’s a baron, big whoop. It’s not like he has any military value in the fighting on this world.”

 

“Shut your mouth,” Trikal turned to glare at him. “It is our mission. We’ve been commanded by the leaders of Republic grounds operations. That should be enough.”

 

“Enough for you, maybe,” Sorgal spat. “Not for me. I don’t answer to army dogs like you.”

 

“No, but you’ll answer to me, Sith,” a familiar voice rang.

 

Through the door came a Jedi that most of the crew recognized. Clad in red and gold armor, Zar’kun Je’and was unmistakable.

 

“To you?” Sorgal was incredulous. “Why?”

 

“Try and think back,” the Jedi smirked. “I’ll be coming along on this rescue operation. If you won’t heed Commander Trikal, then you’ll follow me.”

 

“Ah, fierfek,” Sorgal growled.

 

“Glad you’re taking it so well.”

 

“If you’re all quite through with the bantering,” Cyrus sighed with patient frustration. “You should be getting on your way. The field won’t stay quiet long, and you need to get going before the artillery starts firing again.”

 

“Now I really don’t like this job,” Rick muttered as he and the rest of the crew took the equipment and supplies provided to them by the soldiers.

 

Within the hour, they were out of the fort’s walls and off into the wide fields. Within moments, the ground was bursting with bombardment from both sides.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Seven

 

Rick did a lot of thinking as the regiment trudged through the brush. They had been walking for a few hours, and only now were they starting to see signs of the enemy base.

 

“You look like you have something on your mind,” Tygus said, having appeared at his side.

 

“Stop sneaking up on me!” Rick hissed.

 

“Still don’t trust me?”

 

“Of course not, and why should I?”

 

Tygus nodded. “You shouldn’t, but at least you could talk…so maybe you could start trusting.”

 

Rick sighed. “Yeah, well, I don’t have anything to talk with you about.”

 

“How about why you keep glaring at the commander and frowning with a sudden melancholy when you catch a glimpse of that Jedi?”

 

Rick turned to face the bounty hunter. “Observant, aren’t you?”

 

“Not much slips my notice, when I’m looking, of course.”

 

Rick chuckled. “It should be pretty obvious with that Commander Trikal. I’ve met Sith more pleasant than him…and a whole lot nicer. I find it hard to believe we’re supposed to be on the same side as him.”

 

“You never know who your comrades will be in war,” Tygus shrugged.

 

“You’re telling me,” Rick nodded. “A couple days ago, you were out to kill us.”

 

“How many times do I have to tell you…?”

 

“Look, the fact is you were with a group of violent bounty hunters, and your targets happened to be us. How else can any of us view it? View you?”

 

Tygus frowned. “You’re right…you’re right.”

 

“That said,” Rick continued, “I find your company a lot more desirable than Mr. Bad Attitude From the Get-Go.”

 

“Just came up with that name this moment?”

 

Rick pouted. “You sound like Gabrielle.”

 

“She certainly doesn’t seem to like me…”

 

“That’s what I’ve always thought,” Rick shrugged. “But then, she surprised me big there.”

 

“You two a…couple?”

 

A harsh whistle silenced them.

 

The whole troupe got down as an Imperial regiment marched by, only a hundred or two meters off. Luckily, the camouflage was effective and they were not seen.

 

When the enemy force had passed away, they started moving again. This time, however, they remained on their stomachs and kept a much slower pace.

 

The Imperial fort was in sight, a nasty wall of cold steel and gun emplacements.

 

“Guess I’ll change the subject,” Tygus whispered again. “What about that Jedi? Are you not a fan of him, too?”

 

“That guy?” Rick shook his head. “I’ve no beef with him. We’ve fought together on a few fields in the past, as I recall. No, it’s just…”

 

“He reminds you of Targon, doesn’t he?”

 

“All the times I’ve seen that one, Zar’kun, I’ve been with Targon in the roughest of times. Now he and I are here…and Targon is gone.”

 

“I really am sorry about what happened to him.”

 

“Everyone is,” Rick rolled his eyes. “At least you’ve shown respect for him. Can’t fault you for that.”

 

“That’s a good sign.”

 

“Get through this whole rescue operation with me, and the crew and I just might start to trust you.”

 

“Good to hear.”

 

Another sharp whistle rang.

 

Trikal appeared before them, followed closely by Zar’kun.

 

“Alright, here’s the plan,” the commander said hoarsely. “Half the regiment is going to create a false attack on the eastern wall. It will divert the enemy’s focus. Then, the second half will come at the south wall, drawing all other defenders to them.”

 

Rick was already starting to hate the plan, but he didn’t say anything. The field was no place to start arguing…especially so close to an enemy encampment.

 

“Zar’kun and I, along with six of my best men,” Trikal continued, “will sneak into the fort at the northern corner. We’ll slip in, get the baron, then get out.”

 

“Where do you want us?” Sorgal asked, contempt dripping in his voice.

 

“You at the south wall,” Trikal answered. “Along with the old soldier and the Twi’lek. The Falleen, the tiger, and your smart mouthed captain will join on the east.”

 

“Great,” Rick sighed. “And how will we know you’re out and we can stop the attack?”

 

“I have a flare,” Zar’kun replied. “Don’t worry, we’ll be in and out quick. There shouldn’t be any problem.”

 

“Not if you all are as good as everyone makes you out to be,” Trikal added. “Show me you’re as good as you claim.”

 

“I’ve never claimed to be good,” Rick countered. “Well, not to you, anyway.”

 

“Can you handle it or not, wise guy?”

 

“Of course I can,” Rick spat.

 

“Good,” was all Trikal said. Then he, his men, and Zar’kun went off northward.

 

The rest of the regiment took care in preparing their placements.

 

---

 

Rick was really, really hating the plan. They had taken half an hour to get into position, and now that he was close to the fort, things started looking a little grim.

 

It was not a large fort, only a single structure inside of the walls. But there were some nasty anti-infantry guns on the turrets.

 

“How big you figure the garrison is?” Rick asked.

 

“A fort like this?” Xana shrugged. “No more men than we have.”

 

“Soldiers, that is,” Tygus added.

 

“Right,” Xana nodded.

 

Rick knew what that meant.

 

Sith.

 

He had been in enough battles to know how easily a raging Sith Lord could cut through simple soldiers. There only needed to be a few, and with those guns, they would all be dead within the hour.

 

“Is Trikal just an idiot? Or a madman?” Rick asked no one in particular.

 

“A stupid strategy,” Xana agreed. “One that is reckless and grants only him the glory.”

 

“There is no glory to be had,” Tygus chuffed. “Not killing mass droves or bashing oneself against the wall…or allowing others to do so.”

 

“So what’s the deal?” Rick groaned. “Why are we doing this?”

 

“We promised Cordillian and Cyrus that we would help,” Xana replied. “Even if the commander we work with is a fool.”

 

“That’s just stupid,” Rick spat a glob of saliva in his disgust. “I’m not even signed up for the army... Hell, I don’t even vote.”

 

“Look at it another way,” Tygus shrugged. “That should help.”

 

Rick looked at him with a face plastered with confusion.

 

“What way should I look at it, then?”

 

“This is no different from the things we did with Targon,” Xana pointed out.

 

“Yeah, but we had him…and we all trusted each other and were willing to fight alongside each other. This is different.”

 

“Don’t think about Trikal,” Tygus shook his head. “Think about your friends.”

 

Rick pursed his lips.

 

“Just how is it, Tygus, that you seem to work and talk so well with us? It’s as if you’ve been with us for a lot longer than you have.”

 

“Guess we’re not really different,” the cat shrugged. “I had friends before, good ones…like yours. They fought with me for many years. They’ve even died by my side.”

 

“What are you, some foil to us?” Rick groaned.

 

“Maybe, maybe we’ve crossed paths for a reason.”

 

“It’s time,” a sergeant hissed.

 

Rick sighed and pulled his guns from his holster.

 

“Okay, so how should I look at this? A promise?”

 

Xana nodded. “A promise to Targon.”

 

Rick was surprised that he smiled at that. He felt stupid with it on his face as they were about to go into battle.

 

“Yes,” he nodded. “I’ll fight for a promise to Targon. He gave his for us, now we’ll do the same…”

 

He paused.

 

“I just hope I live to regret this.”

 

Conclusion of Episode Nineteen

[TargonKarashi]

Episode Twenty – That Dark Night

 

Chapter One

 

Exiting hyperspace, the last thing Targon expected to see was Republic and Imperial ships in the grips of a vicious battle. He had expected the planet’s orbit to be quiet.

 

The fighting was on the ground, wasn’t it?

 

“They won’t be able to see us, right?” he asked softly.

 

Succuba turned to smirk at him.

 

“That’s usually what a cloaking device does,” she chuckled.

 

“Yes, but…”

 

“Relax,” the Sith winked at him. “No one knows we’re coming, and no one will see us coming… As boring as that is…”

 

Targon didn’t feel relieved at all. He sat, tense and anxious, in the passenger seat behind Succuba.

 

The ship’s cockpit was tight and small – the whole ship was small. It was little more than a flip-darter or something miniscule. Of course, that was what they needed in order to attract as little attention as possible.

 

“There’s Alderaan,” the Sith mused. “A pretty little thing, isn’t it?”

 

“I’ve been here before,” Targon shrugged. “It’s beauty is spoiled by senseless conflict.”

 

“You think so? I think it makes it all the better.”

 

“To each their own,” Targon shook his head.

 

Both of them were quiet as the ship entered the atmosphere and zipped over the vast valleys and mountain ranges. Pristine lakes glittered in a brilliant blue.

 

But off in the distance, they could see the explosions and smoke that told the presence of battle.

 

“Once we’re on the ground,” Targon began, “is there a plan for us?”

 

“Yeah, kill Scorpius,” Succuba replied.

 

“I meant a plan in accomplishing that goal,” Targon sighed.

 

She gave him a grin. “I knew what you meant, Jedi, but you’re so much fun to mess with.”

 

“Glad I amuse you,” Targon frowned.

 

“We’ll be landing a few miles from one of the Imperial staging grounds – on a lakeshore. From there, we’ll be able to scout out the field and determine where the target is.”

 

Targon glanced at the digital map display of the area.

 

“A little close to a Republic fort, don’t you think?”

 

“Does that bother you?” Succuba asked.

 

“Not me, but…”

 

“No one will see us. And I know you won’t be able to escape to your Republic buddies.”

 

“How do you know that?” Targon inquired.

 

“Because I’m in your head.”

 

Targon winced. He hadn’t forgotten about that, but he hoped the connection didn’t delve so far into his mind. All the time, he was getting thoughts from her. Wicked thoughts that made him shudder.

 

Nothing he could do would shut them out. If he put up barriers, she knocked them down with a breath.

 

“Why am I so blasted important to you and your master?” Targon finally asked. “Why do you keep tormenting me?”

 

Succuba didn’t answer. She simply gave him a mischievous smirk and kept flying.

 

It wasn’t too long before they had landed. Up close, Targon noticed just how close they really were to the fort.

 

The immense stronghold was just across the lakeshore on a rise. Republic banners fluttered in the light breeze over the walls.

 

“A little close?” Targon frowned.

 

“They’re keeping an eye on Imperial forces, not us meager two,” Succuba countered. “Besides, there is no way they detected us in our descent.”

 

“Perhaps, but they can see us now,” Targon pointed out.

 

Succuba rolled her eyes and pointed to a large grove of trees growing thick and close to one another. Their branches seemed to be completely entwined.

 

“We’ll stake out there,” she stated. “They won’t see us, and neither will any scouts. But we’ll see all we need to.”

 

“Scorpius could be on the opposite hemisphere of Alderaan,” Targon folded his arms. “What makes you think he’s anywhere near here?”

 

“What?” Succuba scoffed. “Can’t you smell him?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Targon raised an eyebrow.

 

The Sith woman sighed and shook her head. Her bright hair seemed to dance like a flame as she moved.

 

“Reach out, Targon,” she said. “Past the natural life of the planet, past the Republic base and the raging battles. You can feel it, almost taste it, like a foul stench upon the wind.”

 

Targon shook his head and sighed. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander as she suggested. Across the fields and mountains he flew…

 

And then he felt it.

 

There was a dark presence, an aura of malice and dark power. Vile stirrings rippled through the Force on Alderaan. They stemmed from a source only a few miles away.

 

“I feel it,” Targon grimaced as he opened his eyes. “I feel him.”

 

“Disgusting, isn’t he?” Succuba growled.

 

“What is that?” Targon asked. “Why does he feel so…so horrible?”

 

“And why don’t all Sith, you mean?” Succuba’s tail swished about behind her. “There is something different about Scorpius. He was taught by his master, Lord Mortis, in the ways of the Sith, just like most. Yet now, with his master dead, and after his massive swathe of bloody victories, something has changed in him.”

 

“He feels like…nothing…nothing but hate and greed and hunger for power.”

 

“Never felt the presence of a really twisted Sith Lord, have you?” Succuba nodded. “Not even Viruul feels like this…Viruul still has his humanity.”

 

Targon raised an eyebrow at that comment. He would hardly call Darth Viruul a ‘humane’ person. But it could not be denied, there was nothing but pure evil in this sense of Lord Scorpius. Twisted, tainted, venomous…

 

“I’ve felt a presence like this before,” Targon muttered.

 

“Have you now?”

 

The name came to his mind like a sudden chill.

 

He shook his head and straightened.

 

“Let’s get this over with,” he said.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Two

 

Gabrielle dove behind a boulder for cover as scores of bolts flew overhead. The air was thick with smoke and ozone and scorched metal.

 

All around, soldiers were firing…and dying. They were dying in droves.

 

Up on the walls, the turrets rained devastation, and the Imperial guards were holding their line just outside the gate.

 

There was no way the Republic troopers were going to break through.

 

Someone dove behind her rock and nudged her a bit.

 

“Having fun?” Greyhawk asked.

 

“Oh, you know me,” Gabrielle shook her head.

 

She glanced around again at the carnage. Then she rose and fired a few shots off before ducking behind the safety of the stone.

 

“This is a stupid plan!” she hissed. “People are dropping faster than I can count!”

 

“I know,” the old soldier nodded. “The commander is a fool and an idiot. How he attained his rank is beyond me.”

 

“What do we do?” Gabrielle asked. “Just sit here and die?”

 

“Not at all,” Greyhawk replied. He then got to his feet, fired a few rounds from his heavy blaster cannon and then pulled out a thermal detonator.

 

Lobbing with great force, he sent the grenade hurtling towards the walls. He then dropped to the ground.

 

“We give them hell,” he finished.

 

The explosion was deafening, but even more so were the intense shouting from the Imperial lines. Shouts of pain and death.

 

Gabrielle frowned. “So, we just keep fighting until they or we die?”

 

“That’s what soldiers do,” Greyhawk shrugged.

 

“I’m not a soldier. Neither is Rick, or Xana, or…”

 

“You are today,” Greyhawk stated gruffly. “Get used to it. If you try to run now, you’ll be gunned down in moments. Fact is, this is the job we’re stuck with at the moment. We’ve got to keep fighting to get through it.”

 

Gabrielle growled and rose again, firing a furious burst of bolts at the enemy. She saw three men go down before she ducked again.

 

“That’s it,” Greyhawk nodded. “Let those Imperials know how much you enjoy being here.”

 

Waiting for a moment for her guns to cool, Gabrielle then peeked over the rock to observe the situation.

 

To her surprise, the Imperial troops were starting to break up and fall back. There were massive gaps in their lines, and piles of the dead or dying.

 

“Looks like they’re hurting as much as we are,” she said.

 

“Everyone hurts in battle,” Greyhawk agreed. “We keep this up, we just might get out of here. And then we can tell those Republic bums that sent us here to shove it.”

 

Gabrielle smiled. “You’re a crazy and grouchy old man.”

 

“I know,” the soldier smiled. “I’ve known that for years.”

 

Suddenly, there was a shout from several Republic troops. Following soon after, a massive piece of the wall hurtled through the air and crashed into six men, crushing them.

 

Another sound followed. The hum of a lightsaber.

 

Greyhawk and Gabrielle rose to see.

 

Standing in the gap where the wall had been ripped out, stood a Sith. He was clad in a simple black robe and held a gleaming red saber. His face was covered by a mask.

 

“What took him so long?” Greyhawk spat.

 

Gabrielle snorted. “Coward.”

 

The Sith roared and charged, causing the routing soldiers to turn and join him in the advance.

 

All around, Republic soldiers blasted him with lasers, but his lightsaber deflected all, and his agility kept him unscathed.

 

In a single swipe, the Sith had cut through three men. Turning in a smooth, fluid motion, he dove at another two and slashed them to pieces.

 

A red saber intercepted his blade as Sorgal had leapt towards him.

 

The two clashed blades again and again while blaster bolts filled the air around them.

 

“Think we should help?” Gabrielle asked.

 

Greyhawk shook his head. “Shoot his lackeys. Once his troops are gone, he won’t seem so tough.”

 

“He doesn’t look tough now,” Gabrielle frowned.

 

“Just shoot.”

 

She did as he said, gunning down soldiers that advanced on the dueling Sith. Then something else caught her eye – the battle from the south side.

 

Imperials were coming their way, but they were being pursued. Right behind, Republic troopers were closing the distance, firing as they ran.

 

Gabrielle rolled her eyes.

 

“So, Rick gets the easy side,” she groaned.

 

“Less chatter, woman,” Greyhawk growled.

 

He turned his cannon on the retreating Imperials and began to mow them down.

 

Gabrielle joined in the shooting frenzy. Within moments, the Imperial force was dwindling. Those that still stood were either trying to get back through the wall or surrendering.

 

“Looks like we win,” Gabrielle shrugged.

 

Greyhawk nodded. “Just about.”

 

The scene did not go unnoticed by the Sith. He glanced around and saw his men dead or fleeing.

In a roar of fury, he lashed against Sorgal and kicked him back.

 

Then he lifted his arm and pulled out a comlink from his sleeve. He pressed the button and shouted something unintelligible.

 

Greyhawk growled and aimed his gun. A single shot took the Sith down, and with that, the rest of the Imperial troops lost heart.

 

The guns on the walls died, and every Imperial soldier dropped his weapons and raised his arms.

 

Soldiers cheered at the victory and saw to the prisoners.

 

Rick was shouting and hooting as well, laughing at the Imperial cowards as he ran towards Gabrielle.

 

“Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” he grinned.

 

“Not so bad, was it?” Greyhawk frowned. “Just look around and count the dead.”

 

“Well…” Rick shrugged. “Neither of you are dead, but more importantly I’m not dead. I’d say we were pretty successful.”

 

“I agree,” Sorgal said as he approached. “We won and kept our skin intact. What does it matter that it was a costly fight?”

 

“Whoa, whoa,” Rick raised his hands. “I wouldn’t go that far…I mean…”

 

“Trikal better pray this was worth it,” Greyhawk growled. “A lot of lives were thrown away here.”

 

“But not ours,” Sorgal stated simply.

 

Everyone glared at him.

 

Men started cheering as Commander Trikal and Zar’kun appeared from within the fort.

 

Their group was a lot smaller in number.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Three

 

Xana deactivated her lightsaber and sat down on a fallen log. She glanced at the messy scene, with bodies littered around the small fort.

 

She sighed and rested her head in her hands.

 

“Something bothering you?” someone asked her.

 

Looking up, she noted Tygus standing over her, his gun and electrowhip still in hand.

 

She snorted. “What’s not bothering me right now?”

 

Tygus kneeled to get closer. “I thought Jedi were detached in battle, that they didn’t let the emotions of combat get to them.”

 

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly the most stellar of Jedi,” she sighed. “But that’s not my problem.”

 

“What is, then?”

 

“Everything…everything just feels wrong now. It all seems…pointless. When Targon was with us, it seemed like we had some grand purpose…or something. Now, it all feels empty.”

 

Tygus peered at her. “It’s deeper than that, isn’t it?”

 

Xana sighed. “What do you care?”

 

“I care that a beautiful woman is here moping while everyone else is celebrating.”

 

He took a seat next to her.

 

“Maybe I can help?”

 

He started to put his arm around her.

 

In an instant, she was on her feet.

 

“What?” Tygus recoiled.

 

“Don’t play dumb with me!” Xana growled. “I know what you’re doing…lots of people like you have tried it.”

 

“Tried what?”

 

“Making a move, that’s what! You think because I’m upset, I’m vulnerable to your charms. Well, here’s a news flash, I’m fine, and I don’t need your sympathy. I know what you really want.”

 

Tygus didn’t argue. He simply shrugged and nodded.

 

“I won’t deny it,” he stated. “Someone as gorgeous as you, a man can’t help but try to get close. It’s not like I was trying to offend you or anything…”

 

“You’re only talking like that because I didn’t react the way you wanted,” Xana frowned.

 

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? After a battle…people have a lot of steam they need to work out.”

 

“So you cool off by hitting on women?”

 

Tygus sighed. “Let’s just forget this all happened, okay?”

 

Xana was about to shake her head and give him another earful when she heard a commotion much more intense.

 

Turning around, she tuned in just in time to hear Master Je’and say, “The baron was already dead when we got to him. Looks like the Sith killed him.”

 

Trikal was frowning and angry, but nearly as much as Greyhawk was. The old soldier stormed up to him and gave him a massive slug right to the face.

 

The commander dropped to the ground, grabbing his face as it turned red. Several of his men raised their guns threateningly in response to Greyhawk’s attack.

 

“You are a plain, idiotic bastard!” Greyhawk roared. “You realize how many men died for this foolish mission?!”

 

Trikal rose to his feet. “I don’t need lessons from you, grandpa. I’m well aware of the cost of battle. This is war, and this was our mission. It’s not my fault we didn’t get her in time.”

 

“Idiot!” Greyhawk went to punch him again, but Zar’kun and a sergeant restrained him. “When you command, everything is your fault! You might not have been able to control how the enemy responded, but you damn well could have thought up a better plan to save lives!”

 

“If you were a soldier of the Republic army, I’d have you punished for insubordination,” Trikal hissed.

 

“Well I’m not anymore!” Greyhawk countered. “And it’s because of rotten snots like you!”

 

Xana frowned. Something was just plain wrong about all of this. At first she had just inklings, but now…

 

Now she was certain there was a dark will behind all this contention and chaos.

 

---

 

The room was deathly cold.

 

Technicians and officers huddled and shivered over their desks, trudging past their freezing bones to continue their work. Windows and display screens were starting to fog up.

 

A single man, a Chiss in a captain’s uniform, walked in and shuddered.

 

“My lord?” he called, his teeth rattling from the unnatural cold.

 

At the window, overlooking the vast valleys and battlefields, the dark figure stirred and turned around.

 

Jagged spikes jutted from his armor, a ring of blades adorned his mask, and a black cape hung over his shoulders like an eternal stormcloud.

 

“What is it, captain?” the Sith Lord asked.

 

The Chiss swallowed, desperately trying to maintain his cool composure. “Lord Vion has arrived, my lord. He wishes to speak with you at once.”

 

“Fine,” Scorpius nodded. “Send him in.”

 

The captain bowed and left through the doors – perhaps a little too quickly. A moment later, the doors opened again and a different person entered.

 

He was more a shadow than a person. His form was misty and black, with only bright white eyes and teeth clearly visible.

 

Unaffected by the cold, the strange apparition slunk through the command center and approached the undaunted Sith that awaited him.

 

“So, Lord Vion,” Scorpius folded his arms. “I presume your arrival is meant to bring good news?”

 

“Indeed, Lord Scorpius,” the smoky form assented. “As you ordered, I have stirred the hearts of the enemy. Republic command is weak and conflicted. Their feeble minds were easy to manipulate.”

 

“Yes, yes, but tell me what is going on.”

 

Vion bowed. “A Republic force recently stormed the fort that held the captured baron. Losses were heavy on both sides, but all went well.”

 

“They took the fort and found the baron dead?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Excellent. Those fools are playing into my hands.”

 

“Our hands, Lord Scorpius.”

 

The young man’s eyes grew hot and fierce. His irises glowed a fiery yellow and the floorplates of the room shook.

 

“You forget your place, Lord Vion,” Scorpius hissed in a voice that caused everyone in the room to tremble. “I command this effort, I am the hand that shall strike the killing blow on Alderaan. My master was of the Dark Council, and I have grown far more powerful than he ever was.”

 

“I know who you are, Scorpius,” the shade hissed. “But I am also a powerful Sith Lord. If it weren’t for me, you’d only have a hope on the incompetence of the enemy for victory. Now it is assured. This planet will be won because of my work…”

 

“Shut up!” Scorpius’ roar filled the room and made the walls quake with his power. “I will hear no more from you, Vion. I crushed the defense of Viserys and all the Jedi Masters within through no work of yours. I can do the same here.”

 

“You are a stupid, vain, and insolent boy,” Vion bared his fangs.

 

“Captain!” Scorpius bellowed.

 

Without delay, the door opened and the Chiss returned.

 

“Escort Lord Vion out,” Scorpius commanded. “Make sure he is shown the comfort and luxury his station deserves.”

 

“Yes, my lord,” the Chiss bowed.

 

“At least you have some manners,” Vion growled.

 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Scorpius grinned a wicked smile. “Your luxury will be an eight by eight cell – your new abode to wallow in until I return…to kill you.”

 

With that, Vion made an attempt to attack. He howled and roared in a furious rage that made the captain leap back in fear.

 

Scorpius raised his hand and clenched his fingers into a fist. Immediately, Vion halted and shriveled, and then he dropped to the ground, barely breathing.

 

“Your power over the mind is great, Lord Vion,” Scorpius said as he loomed over the shade. “But not as great as my power over everything else.”

 

He turned to the captain.

 

“Get him out of my sight.”

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Four

 

Targon jumped in surprise, nearly causing him to fall from his seat on a high branch.

 

“Careful,” Succuba’s voice warned him. “Don’t be falling out of trees before the fun starts.”

 

With a sigh, Targon sat up. He had fallen asleep, he realized. Not something he had intended to do. Sleep made one vulnerable…and he couldn’t afford to be vulnerable in his current position.

 

“How long did I doze off?” Targon asked, not sure if he really wanted to hear the answer.

 

“Ten minutes or so,” Succuba replied. She jumped down from her branch and landed in front of Targon with incredible grace.

 

“Anything…happen?” he asked, still worried about the answer.

 

“Out there? Nothing.”

 

“What about…here?”

 

“Oh, well,” Succuba shrugged. “I might have taken advantage of how peacefully you were sleeping…”

 

Targon tried backing up further against the center of the tree.

 

Succuba laughed at him.

 

“You’re so jumpy,” she grinned. “So eager to believe anything that you’re told, and always worrying about the worst.”

 

“Forgive me,” Targon frowned. “I find I tend to be a little anxious when in the company of a Sith.”

 

Succuba laughed again. “A Jedi with a sense of humor, I just like you more and more.”

 

Targon’s frown deepened. “And I start to fear you more and more.”

 

“I thought Jedi weren’t supposed to fear.”

 

Targon had no response to that.

 

“So how long are you intending for us to wait here?” Targon inquired, eager to change the subject. “I thought we were looking for Scorpius.”

 

“We are,” Succuba replied. “We’re waiting until he comes this way.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

A moment later, there was the sound of great rumbling and booming close by. Targon hopped to his feet and peered through the embracing branches to see.

 

Smoke was rising from the Republic fortress. Imperial bombers passed over, dropping heavy payloads as anti-air guns fired in response.

 

Imperial walkers and tanks began approaching the walls. It was a full on assault.

 

“What is this?” Targon gasped.

 

“Scorpius is going to storm the Republic’s stronghold,” Succuba answered simply.

 

“You knew about this?”

 

“Of course I did. The Empire was planning this advance for a long time.”

 

“You knew,” Targon growled, “and you didn’t tell me?”

 

“Why would I?” Succuba shrugged. “You would have simply tried to run off and warn them, and then you would have been killed in the attack yourself. Besides, you would have resisted more if you knew the details.”

 

“So, you just figure on lying to me? I thought you ‘liked’ me.”

 

“I do, but you’re gullible, remember. You’re easy to manipulate…and Viruul wants you to start overcoming that.”

 

Targon shook his head and took a deep breath to stem his anger before it grew. “I’ve got to help them…”

 

“Don’t worry, we’re going to join the party,” Succuba smiled. “Scorpius is there…and there is where he will fall.”

 

She leapt down from the branch and landed easily on the ground. Targon hesitated, but then sighed and reluctantly climbed down the tree to follow her.

 

“I really hate Sith,” he muttered to himself.

 

---

 

It took the combined effort of Master Je’and, Rick, Xana, and Tygus to keep Greyhawk and Trikal from turning the dispute into an all out brawl. Still, if looks could kill, then Trikal would have dropped dead several times over from the gaze of the old soldier.

 

“Greyhawk, listen to me,” Xana pleaded with him. “This isn’t going to help anything. We can’t let ourselves get so divided like this.”

 

“She’s right,” Zar’kun concurred. “If we start fighting ourselves, then we can’t fight the enemy.”

 

“I know who my enemy is,” Greyhawk growled as he once more tried to struggle against their grip. “He’s standing right over there.”

 

Trikal straightened and puffed out his chest. “I might have to order you shot right now, Marc Avis. Your insubordination and disregard for authority has gone too far.”

 

“He’s under my authority,” Zar’kun countered. “All of them are.”

 

“Are they?” Trikal snorted. “And you’re doing a fine job of keeping them in control.”

 

“What is wrong with all of you?” Rick asked, nearly shouting. “You’re all ready to kill each other for this? Where is the sense?”

 

“I have to agree with the fool,” Sorgal shook his head. “This is ridiculous, even from Republic people.”

 

“Thank you,” Rick nodded at the Sith, ignoring the slight.

 

There was a crackling voice on Trikal’s comlink. Whatever was said, it wasn’t understood by anyone.

 

Trikal reached for the comlink and pressed a button.

 

“Say again? What was that?”

 

The voice came in again, but still just as garbled as before.

 

“Who is this?” Trikal demanded.

 

More static and unintelligible words followed. Trikal shook the comlink and smacked it a few times in an effort to get a clearer signal. It was to no avail.

 

“Who would it be?” Gabrielle asked. “Fort Alusia?”

 

“Undoubtedly,” Trikal replied. “The only one that knows we’re on duty and not to be disturbed is the command at the fort.”

 

“Then why are they ‘disturbing’ us now?” Sorgal rolled his eyes.

 

Greyhawk perked up and looked around.

 

“Do you hear that?” he asked in a low voice.

 

“Hear what?” Gabrielle asked.

 

“Shh!” Rick shushed her. “The old man’s hearing is really good. What is it?”

 

“Explosions,” the old soldier replied.

 

“There is fighting all over Alderaan,” Trikal growled. “You’re probably just hearing some skirmish a ways off.”

 

“No,” Greyhawk snapped. “It’s coming from that direction…from the fort.”

 

He pointed across the fields. Past the horizon, all could see faint flashes, and a few even started hearing the soft booms that followed on the wind.

 

“Fort Alusia is under attack!” Trikal roared. “Men, we march to the fort! Double time!”

 

“Wait!” Rick shouted, pointing to the sky.

 

Dark specks were zipping through the air, getting larger as they grew closer. Soon it was plain to tell what they were.

 

Bombers.

 

“Find cover!” Zar’kun hollered, just as the ships began to drop whistling and howling death upon them.

 

The ground burst open, shooting dirt and rocks and plants across the field. The men scattered in various directions, but not all were able to avoid the explosions.

 

Soldiers started soaring and screaming through the air. The carnage was deafening and encompassing from all around.

 

Just before one bomb landed close to Rick and Gabrielle, Greyhawk dove into them and shoved them to the ground. Dirt and rubble peppered them, but thanks to his quick reaction, all three were unhurt.

 

Trikal tried shooting at the bombers as they passed overhead. The bolts seemed simple sparks the fluttered by the speeding ships. Unfazed and unhindered, the bombers kept up their run.

 

Struggling to escape and help other soldiers get to the cover of trees in time, Xana noticed too late the approaching bomber headed straight towards her.

 

Gasping, she saw a missile break free from one of the ship’s wings and start speeding her way.

 

She reached out with the Force to try and shield herself, but she couldn’t muster the required concentration in time. The missile was coming too fast.

 

Suddenly, she felt something wrap around her and yank her off her feet and into the air. She landed some distance off as the explosion erupted in the ground.

 

Holding her down, she felt someone cover her with their own body. She could feel the tense heartbeat and quick breathing of her protector.

 

When the dust settled, she saw who had saved her.

 

“Doing alright, Jedi?” Tygus asked. “You really should lighten up a little on the self-sacrifice routine. It’ll get you killed real fast.”

 

Xana frowned.

 

“You can get up now,” she hissed.

 

Tygus rose and let her up to her feet. They were in the cover of the trees now, along with the survivors. There weren’t many left.

 

“How did I…?” Xana gasped.

 

“My whip does more than simply hurt people,” Tygus answered her as he rolled up the weapon. “It’s a tool I use, not a killing device.”

 

Xana nodded and prepared to move out, but then she stopped.

 

“Thank you for saving my life,” she said, turning to the bounty hunter.

 

“Can’t let your beauty be lost, now can I?” Tygus shrugged.

 

Xana shook her head and sighed. “Come on, we need to get to the fort to help in whatever way we can.”

 

“Lead the way,” Tygus replied. “I’ll watch your back.”

 

“Be sure that’s all that you watch,” Xana pointed a finger at him.

 

“Let’s get going!” Rick called to them. “It’s not like the bombers will give up because we’re beneath some trees! Flammable trees!”

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Five

 

Scorpius enjoyed the smell of vaporized metal and burning flesh mixed together. It was invigorating, and all the more enjoyable after such a satisfactory triumph.

 

The defenses of Fort Alusia had crumbled as easily as if they were made of cardboard. Republic soldiers couldn’t scramble fast enough to put up a good fight, and they were easily dispatched by the bombing runs.

 

Tanks were now rolling into this semi-city of a base. There was still a lot of shooting going on in the distance, but it was slowly dying down.

 

“Their resistance is futile,” he smiled to himself.

 

He stepped over hot cinders and jagged rubble to inspect this fortress that had stood against the Empire for so long on this world. He couldn’t understand why it hadn’t fallen sooner.

 

Losses were minimal, enemy casualties were heavy from the start…even the shields and turrets had failed to make a decent effort to hold back his assault.

 

It would appear, he thought, that the Empire had its share of cowardly and incompetent commanders as well…though the Republic certainly had a great deal more.

 

His smile grew with every corpse he happened upon. It was just like at Viserys, a glorious victory with maximum enemy losses. All these soldiers would never stand against the power of the Empire again.

 

Scorpius paused when he heard some footsteps approaching. He turned to face the Chiss captain as he saluted.

 

“What are you doing here?” Scorpius asked harshly. “I ordered you to remain at command to ensure Vion’s hospitality was proper.”

 

“It is, my lord,” the captain said quickly and worriedly. “But…but I thought you might want to hear the news I have in person. And I…didn’t want to trust a holoterminal’s security.”

 

Scorpius glared at him a moment longer and then nodded. “Very well, captain. What news do you have for me?”

 

“Well, my lord, the base has most certainly fallen. The last remnants of resistance are holed up in the fort’s mess hall.”

 

“Yes, I can see that. Is that what you came here to tell me?”

 

“No, my lord,” the Chiss trembled under his gaze. “I thought you’d want to hear good news first…to soften the bad.”

 

“Give it to me straight out,” Scorpius barked.

 

“The bombers were unsuccessful in completely obliterating the force that took the outpost…several survivors made it to the forest and are likely headed this way to engage us.”

 

“Let them,” Scorpius shrugged. “If they want their blood to mix with the dead here, I’ll be happy to oblige them.”

 

“There’s more…Warmaster Stark has been dismissed. The Mandalorians departed Alderaan’s orbit a little more than an hour ago.”

 

“What?” Scorpius frowned. “Those warriors were put there for a reason! They were supposed to destroy the Republic reinforcements. Who dared to go around my command?”

 

“It would appear…” the Chiss hesitated. “It would appear Admiral Gerald arrived and put an end to the skirmish. He made contact with the Republic’s admiral and negotiated a ceasefire of orbital forces. He then sent the Warmaster off to some other location.”

 

“Admiral Gerald?” Scorpius was surprised, but only for a fleeting second. “I know him, he served at Viserys…but he was only a commander. When was he promoted?”

 

“I can’t say, my lord,” the Chiss said humbly. “It must have been recent.”

 

“Obviously,” Scorpius folded his arms. “Anything else?”

 

Before the captain could reply, he was suddenly lifted into the air, gripping his neck. He gasped desperately for air, but he struggled in vain.

 

With a snap, his neck twisted and he crumpled to the ground.

 

“Oh, there’s more bad news, Lord Scorpius,” a woman’s voice laughed.

 

Scorpius glanced around, scouring the area for the attacker. He couldn’t see anything past the smoke and flames. He could sense a presence…no, two presences. But he couldn’t detect their exact location.

 

“Where are you?!” he roared. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

 

“I said your name, didn’t I?” the woman replied, mocking.

 

Scorpius snarled. “You stink of Dark Council filth…are you some assassin sent to curb my success? If so, you will fail.”

 

“Really? Well, why don’t you prove it?”

 

“Stop cowering in the smog and I will,” Scorpius roared back.

 

He heard a pair of lightsabers activate behind him. Twirling about, he turned to face his opponents.

 

They stepped slowly out of the smoke.

 

Scorpius scoffed at the sight. The woman was nearly naked, and hideously reptilian. Her scales were bright and glittery with red and orange. Quite distasteful.

 

The other was a young boy, hardly looking in his twenties. He was clad in a simple acolytes garb…but there was a different feeling to him.

 

“You are no Sith,” he hissed.

 

The boy raised an eyebrow. “What gave it away? My green lightsaber or my placid features?”

 

Scorpius did not laugh. He simply glared at them.

 

“A Sith and a Jedi together,” he snarled. “How disgusting.”

 

The lizard woman growled. “The way you foul the air is disgusting. You’ve fought your last battle, Lord Scorpius.”

 

“Just who do you think you are?” Scorpius hissed. “To think you could challenge me?”

 

“I am Darth Succuba,” the woman answered. “This is Targon Karashi. We bring a message from Lord Viruul.”

 

Scorpius called his saber to his hand. “Oh, he sent you, did he? Well, after I’m done with you, I suppose I’ll return the favor.”

 

And with that, he leapt at them with a ferocious snarl.

 

---

 

Rick and his crew stopped at a different point than the others. While Trikal and Master Je’and trudged on, they took a moment to observe the situation from a high point.

 

“Looks like the battle’s already lost,” Sorgal sighed. “Oh well, guess we…wait…wasn’t our ship…”

 

“Thanks for realizing,” Rick growled at him. “I hope the docking pads are still in place.”

 

“Can’t tell from here,” Gabrielle stated.

 

“Hold on,” Tygus broke in. He reached into a hidden compartment beneath his gauntlet and pulled out a small pair of binoculars. “Maybe I can get a better look.”

 

Everyone waited as he scanned the base amid the smoke and blaster fire.

 

“Looks like the docks are still standing, if a bit battered,” he said at last. “Might be that the Empire wanted to capture some ships in the battle.”

 

“They wouldn’t do that,” Greyhawk shook his head. “They’d have destroyed the docks first to stop any sort of counterattack.”

 

“Well, it’s still standing,” Tygus repeated.

 

“Let me see,” the old soldier said after he had already taken the binoculars from the bounty hunter.

 

He watched in silence, and then he sighed. “I don’t know how, but you were telling the truth, cat.”

 

“Thanks for appraising it,” the tiger growled.

 

“See anything else?” Rick asked. “Any survivors or signs of life?”

 

Greyhawk nodded. “There are Imperial troops laying siege to the mess hall, believe it or not. What they’re doing I don’t…Oh hell.”

 

“What now?” Sorgal groaned.

 

“Commander Numbnuts is charging in with his men.”

 

“What?!” Xana gasped. “Is he really that stupid?”

 

“Appears so,” the old soldier nodded.

 

“They’ll all be killed!” Xana shrieked.

 

“Good riddance to Trikal,” Sorgal shrugged.

 

“We can’t just let them all die,” Rick smacked him.

 

“Sure we can.”

 

Tygus sighed. “We fought with them at that fort. We should honor them by fighting now.”

 

“Says the bounty hunter…” Sorgal hissed, but a glare from Gabrielle cut him off.

 

“We fight,” Xana stated, drawing her lightsaber.

 

“So now we all die,” Sorgal groaned wearily.

 

“After all we’ve been through?” Greyhawk snorted. “This shouldn’t be too bad.”

 

One at a time, the crew followed Xana in the resolve to charge. Soon, all of them were bounding down the hill to join Trikal and Zar’kun in the battle.

 

Blaster fire filled the air, making the air all the more filthy and thick.

 

The Imperials were not taken by surprise, and they soon turned to face the new threat. What few soldiers remained of the regiment were quickly being gunned down.

 

Zar’kun’s black sabers deflected many shots, protecting those men around him. It didn’t take long for the others to flock around him to create a stronger fist to attack with.

 

Xana and her train caught up soon enough, and soon they had all joined in the fight. It blew into mass chaos, every man for himself.

 

All of a sudden, the mess hall’s doors opened. Out poured the surviving Republic soldiers from the base, headed by Master Cyrus.

 

Now the Imperial force was caught on two fronts…but they still had an immense number.

 

Xana began to fear that the battle would rage for far too long, and soon everyone would wind up dead in heaps of corpses. Every time she swung her saber, she felt them all grow closer and closer to genocide.

 

And then, the unthinkable happened. The Imperials stopped fighting and fled the field, falling back to the way they had come. Even the tanks that were scouring the ruins turned around and left.

 

Everyone stood aghast, unsure of what just happened.

 

Then, they heard a crackling on the comlink of one of the slain Imperials.

 

“This is Admiral Gerald, the new head of Imperial forces on Alderaan. It has come to my attention that a rogue Sith Lord made an unauthorized attack on a Republic fortress. Now that I am in command, I order all soldiers back to their assigned staging grounds immediately. I don’t care if you’re in the middle of a gunfight, get yourselves back. Now.”

 

Everyone took a moment to take it in.

 

“Well, that’s oddly…convenient…” Rick commented.

 

“Convenience is simply the Force creating its own balance without our help,” Master Cyrus stated. “Though I think things could have, and should have, gone a lot different than they did.”

 

He glanced at the remainder of the regiment.

 

“Welcome back,” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “Seems things didn’t go so well for you. It is good that you got back in time. Now, we need to see about recovering from this debacle.”

 

“I’m just glad this is over,” Sorgal growled. “Any longer and I might’ve killed Commander Trikal myself.”

 

“You’d have to get in line,” Greyhawk muttered.

 

“Wait,” Xana suddenly exclaimed. “It’s not over.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Rick inquired.

 

Xana didn’t answer for a moment. “I sense something,” she finally said. “I feel…”

 

She gasped.

 

“Targon!”

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Six

 

The hum and crackle of lightsabers echoed amid the ruined structures and smoking rubble. Also mixed in were the roars, grunts, and taunts of the participating duelists.

 

Scorpius was on the offensive, assaulting Targon and then Succuba with ruthless and cunning efficiency. Whenever they made a move to break his streak of attacks, he caught them mid-action and pushed them back even further.

 

The Sith Lord made a quick move and lifted his leg. In one kick, he sent Targon sprawling into the dirt. Then he focused himself on the woman.

 

Succuba parried with a graceful speed, but she found herself moving awkwardly, nearly tripping over herself several times.

 

Still, she held on, matching Scorpius blow for blow with untamed anger.

 

Targon picked himself up and charged in, trying to take Scorpius from the rear.

 

The Sith sensed him coming and was quick to engage him, after bashing Succuba’s cheek with the hilt of his saber.

 

Now he was on the Jedi, and his calm and controlled style was crumbling easily under his pressed attack.

 

Targon held off each blow, but they were getting closer with each strike. He knew he couldn’t stand up to this enemy directly. He needed to use a different aspect of the fight to his advantage.

 

Recalling his fights with Darth Hellion and other heavy hitting foes, Targon kept his footwork light, and each step was a deliberate ploy to avoid direct confrontation with his opponent.

 

Scorpius roared in frustration as Targon leaped back and jumped off to the side to avoid his lunges. Each crushing blow simply glanced off the Jedi’s blade.

 

But now the Sith knew what he was up to, and he started to push Targon into a direction he wanted – to corner him against a wall so he had no way to escape.

 

Targon noticed it, but he couldn’t find the right moment to break free. He knew that if he didn’t attempt a move soon, he would be trapped.

 

Succuba roared and lunged at Scorpius, ready to plunge her blade into his backside. He heard her coming and kicked his foot out to catch her.

 

She was staggered for only a moment, and then she took the assault.

 

Scorpius had no choice but to push Targon away and go on the defensive with her. He held her back, pushing each blow back at Succuba in order to break her momentum and turn the tables.

 

Steps from behind told Scorpius that he hadn’t sent Targon back far enough. With a twirl, he caught both of his enemies’ blades with his own. The cracks and sparks grew hot and intense.

 

Succuba broke off and made an upwards slash at the Sith. In response, he shoved Targon away to give him space to react in time.

 

Targon didn’t go far, and he was on him again, swinging wide from the left.

 

Scorpius was getting sick of the two of them crowding around him. With a roar of rage, he sent out a massive shockwave through the Force that sent both of them sprawling.

 

He then seethed and snarled, preparing to make a quick charge at one of them and finish it…

 

“Hold it right there, Darth Buttwipe!” a voice shouted at him.

 

Scorpius turned and saw several soldiers and other motley people emerging from the smog. Guns and lightsabers were pointed at him.

 

The man who spoke, a small fool with a red jacket, gave him a cocky smile.

 

“You’re way outnumbered, pal,” he stated. “How about giving up now? Your army’s gone.”

 

“Rick, let’s not antagonize him more than we need to,” a blue Twi’lek standing next to the fool suggested.

 

Scorpius spat. “I will kill you all. Painfully.”

 

“Let’s see you try,” an old soldier taunted.

 

Reaching out with both hands, Scorpius pulled down the crumbling walls of the ruins around him. He roared with the fury of the Dark Side as he brought the immense rubble down on the fools.

 

They tried to flee in all directions, but most didn’t make it out in time. Several soldiers were crushed, and the fool and his friends were lost in the storm of dust and ash.

 

Two people charged at him. One was a Jedi with black sabers, the other was the regiment commander.

 

With a hiss, Scorpius charged back at them, swinging his saber quickly between them.

 

Zar’kun caught the blade and pushed back, trying to stick his second saber into the Sith’s gut.

 

But Scorpius saw it coming and caught the Jedi’s hand with his own.

 

“I’ve fought you before,” Scorpius spat. “You were on Viserys…I beat you and you fled like a coward.”

 

“Not this time,” Zar’kun countered. With

 

With that, he swung again and then leaped into the air to land on the other side of the enemy.

 

Trikal started shooting, trying to take Scorpius by surprise.

 

The Sith Lord roared as a bolt struck his arm, but then he ducked and slashed. His red saber sliced through the man’s armor with ease and near cut him in half.

 

At the end of his swing, he caught Zar’kun’s blades and pushed him back.

 

The two of them clashed and parted several times, Scorpius fiercely keeping his offensive and trying to push the Jedi backwards.

 

He was advancing only barely, as Zar’kun was loathe to give him any ground. Every inch they moved was contested with a ferocious battle of will and strength.

 

Then Scorpius felt something else coming from behind.

 

With a thrust of his hand, he sent Zar’kun flying through the air. Then he turned to face the new challenge.

 

Sorgal and Xana were upon him, their blades swinging in vastly different styles.

 

He held them off with strained effort. Then he kicked the Sith back and focused on the Jedi.

 

Before he could get far against her, he felt another presence coming his way.

 

Scorpius twirled to catch Succuba as she assaulted him. Losing patience with this enemy, he reached out and grabbed her throat with his fist.

 

With a burst of strength from the Dark Side, he slammed the woman into the ground, face first.

 

Then he turned back to Xana, lunging at her with intense speed and rage.

 

Xana struggled to hold him off, parrying each blow, but struggling as Scorpius continually pressed forward, pushing her further backwards.

 

Suddenly, she tripped and fell on her back. Her lightsaber flew from her hand and clattered on the ground several meters away.

 

She wanted to call it back to her, but Scorpius planted a foot on her arm and thrust down with unnatural speed.

 

Xana closed her eyes, ready to give in to her fate.

 

There was a moment of silence. Nothing happened.

 

Xana couldn’t understand, there was no way she would survive this long with the way things were.

 

Then she opened her eyes.

 

Targon was standing over her.

 

At first, she was overjoyed to see him…but then she saw the look in his eyes.

 

They were sorrowful and full of pain.

 

Glancing down she saw why…

 

Scorpius’ saber protruded out of his chest.

 

“No!” she screamed.

 

The Sith Lord snarled in contempt and withdrew his saber. Targon toppled to the ground and lay still.

 

Xana shrieked again and called her saber to her. In a flash, she activated and swung. Scorpius was quick to avoid her attack…but not quite quick enough.

 

Her blade sliced through his wrist and took out his weapon hand.

 

The Sith Lord roared in fury. He kicked her in the shin and sent her back to the ground. With his one remaining hand, he charged up a ball of dark electricity to finish her off.

 

But then Rick appeared behind him, wrapping his arm around Scorpius’ throat.

 

“That was my friend, you son of a murglak!” Rick hissed.

 

Before Scorpius could call the strength to throw him off, Rick twisted his tight grip on the Sith Lord’s neck.

 

There was a loud snap, and then Scorpius fell limp.

 

Xana ignored it as she scrambled to Targon’s side. He was gasping for air and shaking as though he were freezing inside.

 

“No, no!” Xana cried.

 

Targon looked up at her, his eyes still maintaining that same look of sadness. He reached up to her face with his hand with difficulty. His strength was failing.

 

“Good to see you again,” he rasped.

 

Rick was soon at her side, stripping off his jacket and placing it beneath Targon’s head.

 

“Hey now, you’re alright,” he said softly. “Of all the places, we find you here. I can hardly believe it.”

 

“Rick…” Targon sighed. “I feared I would never see any of you again…”

 

“That’s quitter talk,” Rick smiled. “Never quit on your friends.”

 

“I didn’t,” Targon replied. “I did quit on myself…though…”

 

“Stop talking,” Xana cooed. “You need to save your strength. We’ll get help. You’re going to be fine.”

 

“Too…late…” Targon gasped weakly. “At least…at least I was able to…see you again…I’m sorry I failed you all…”

 

Then Targon closed his eyes.

 

Xana felt burning tears working their way through her eyes.

 

“No, no!” she cried out again.

 

Rick shook the young Jedi frantically and searched his neck for a pulse.

 

It was too late.

 

Targon was dead.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Seven

 

There was a grim silence that held over the ruins like a bleak fog. Nobody stirred, nobody spoke a word.

 

Xana remained fixated where she was, as though her knees had turned to stone. She lay over the young Jedi’s body, weeping into his soiled suit.

 

“No,” Rick muttered to himself. “No, no, no, no…” He kept repeating. “You can’t do this to us, Targon. You can’t do this to me!”

 

Greyhawk knelt by his side and put a comforting arm around the captain. Despite his instinctual indignation, Rick collapsed into the old soldier.

 

The others stood in stoic stillness. Some soldiers nursed their wounds, others helped them.

 

Cyrus closed his eyes, Zar’kun frowned and sighed quietly.

 

The long moment would not be able to last forever, though. Soldiers needed attention, wounds needed to be treated, and calls were required to bring relief forces from Castle Organa.

 

The Jedi Masters led the effort, but they left the crew of the Lone Eagle where they were. No one dared to disturb them for anything – especially with the dark look in some of their eyes.

 

Sorgal was no exception.

 

But instead of weeping and moping about with the others, he stormed off in a different direction. His feet kicked rubble and metal with fury as he paced through the smoldering base.

 

His hands were clenched into mighty fists, and the veins and muscles in his arm twitched. Some of the wreckage stirred as he walked by it, the creaks and crashes were explosive in the windless scene.

 

He stopped when he saw a stirring…something that wasn’t caused by him.

 

There was a person getting up.

 

In a bound he was upon it, hoisting it up with tremendous force so that the person was lifted even off their feet.

 

“You,” he hissed. “You’re that Sith that caused this mess!”

 

Succuba growled at him. “What are you talking about? I didn’t do this…”

 

“I’m talking about that!” Sorgal twisted her in the direction of the rest of the crew. “I’m talking about Targon!”

 

“What…” Succuba shook her head, confused. And then she saw.

 

She finally planted her feet on the ground and shook off Sorgal’s grip.

 

Before he could reclaim her, she briskly made her way over there.

 

“Scorpius,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

 

Rick rose in a fury.

 

“You!” he howled, making a leap at her. Greyhawk caught him and held him back.

 

“Easy, boy,” the old soldier ordered. “We’re in no shape for another scrap.”

 

Succuba was unbothered by Rick’s death stares and curses of the foulest nature. The looks from the others didn’t bother her either. She took another step towards them, unworried about their reaction.

 

Her foot struck something hard.

 

Looking down, she allowed a small smile to creep on her lips.

 

“Who killed the Sith Lord?” she asked simply.

 

“I did,” Rick spat. “And I’ll kill you too!”

 

“That is unnecessary,” she stated as her fingers ran through her hair to clean out the dirt and ash.

 

“It would make a lot of us feel better,” Gabrielle growled.

 

“Undoubtedly,” Succuba nodded. “But then I wouldn’t be able to help poor Targon if you did.”

 

Xana rose, her eyes swollen with tears. She glared at the Sith.

 

“What did you say?” she hissed.

 

Succuba took a few steps closer and stooped down next to her. She ran her claws along Targon’s chest, and then reached up to his neck.

 

“There’s a chance to save him,” she said softly.

 

“Don’t mock her grief,” Tygus snarled.

 

“I’m not,” Succuba hissed back at him. “I’m serious.”

 

“The word of a Sith is meaningless,” Sorgal spat. “I should know, I am one.”

 

Her tail flicked in irritation. “Do you want my help or not?”

 

“What could you do?” Xana asked.

 

Succuba stared into the Falleen’s reptilian eyes with her own. She could see the desperation and utter despair in this Jedi…and the tiniest spark of hope that was just starting to light.

 

“What does Targon mean to you?” she asked.

 

“What does it matter?” Rick hissed. “Why do you care about anything, schutta?”

 

Succuba ignored him.

 

“He…he’s my teacher,” Xana answered.

 

Succuba smirked at that. “Really? He’s seems younger than you.”

 

“He is. By a year.”

 

The Sith sighed. “Jedi are strange…”

 

“Quit with the snarky comments or I’ll kill you myself,” Greyhawk growled.

 

“Zip it, gramps,” Succuba rolled her eyes. “Go eat your pudding.”

 

Xana’s hand snapped out and clasped Succuba’s throat.

 

“I haven’t forgotten who or what you are,” the Falleen hissed fiercely. “I know it was you on Telos, you who gave Targon that scar, and you that has been haunting his mind for weeks.”

 

“Really?” Succuba smiled. “I didn’t realize I had such an impact…”

 

Xana squeezed tighter and cut her off.

 

“Listen, you monster,” she snapped. “I should kill you right now for every horror you’ve committed.”

 

“That’s not the Jedi way,” Succuba countered. “It’s definitely not what Targon would want you to do.”

 

Xana was still breathing harshly, but the dark intent in her eye vanished after those words. Surprise replaced it…and then something else…

 

Succuba’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Look me in the eye, Jedi,” she said sharply. “There’s something else behind your grief, isn’t there?”

 

“Maybe…maybe rage,” Xana answered.

 

Succuba shook her head. “That’s not it…Jedi are terrible liars.”

 

Zar’kun noticed what was going on from a ways off and prepared to intervene. But Cyrus’ hand held him back.

 

“Wait,” he whispered. “Let the matter resolve itself.”

 

Succuba stared harder at Xana. “The truth now, Jedi. What is it that has you so desperately clinging to any hope of Targon’s life?”

 

“He’s my friend,” Xana spat.

 

“More than that, isn’t it?”

 

Xana didn’t answer. The resolve was breaking in her eyes. She glanced at Cyrus and Zar’kun for a moment, then at the rest of the crew, down at Targon’s body, and then at Succuba again.

 

Succuba smiled. “That’s answer enough. He probably doesn’t feel the same way, but…let me go.”

 

“Why should she?” Rick hissed.

 

“So I can bring Targon back,” Succuba replied, saying each word slowly for everyone to hear.

 

There was a long moment of silence.

 

Xana hesitated, but then, slowly, as though she was fighting against the idea within…she released her grip on the Sith’s neck.

 

Succuba sighed and then took a good, strong breath.

 

“Stand back,” she ordered.

 

The Falleen rose and complied. The others did so as well, albeit reluctantly and skeptically.

 

Succuba climbed atop Targon’s body and planted her clawed hand on his chest. She ripped off the armor and cloth to reach his bare skin. Then, her other hand grasped at his neck, placing the claws gently against each mark of his scar.

 

Her breaths grew faster and faster with each exhale. Her muscles clenched and her teeth bared. Both of her eyes closed tightly, as though something was holding them shut.

 

A faint red light began to glow in her hands. It pulsated like a heartbeat, slowly at first, and then it grew faster with her breathing.

 

There was the faint sound of electrical crackling coming from her claws. All of a sudden, both she and Targon’s body were surrounded by streaks of electric currents. The sprung from the ground, from the air, and from her hands.

 

The sparks forced the onlookers to take several more steps back and shield their eyes. More than a few shouted in anger and fear, calling to question just what the Sith thought she was doing.

 

Succuba started trembling and writhing in terrible pain. She roared and howled, yet she still maintained her stance and composure. Her eyes opened, flames spurting from them like cracks in a furnace.

 

The electricity spun faster and faster around her and then…it suddenly dissipated as quickly as it had appeared.

 

Her breathing grew softer and slower, and finally, she lifted herself back to her feet and took several steps back.

 

“I’ll be leaving now,” she gasped.

 

“How do we know it worked?” Rick snapped. “We ought to gun you down right…”

 

“Touch him,” Succuba ordered Xana, pointing a claw at Targon’s body. He looked no different than before…except for a few more scratch marks on his chest where the Sith’s talons had been.

 

Everyone stared at her incredulously.

 

“Touch him,” she repeated, harsher this time.

 

Xana didn’t take her eyes off of the Sith as she descended to her knees. Only at the last moment, as her fingers neared Targon’s neck, did she look down.

 

Her fingers touched his scar. The skin was cold to the touch.

 

The hope inside her died away in a breath.

 

And then she felt it.

 

A heartbeat.

 

With a slow and painful effort, Targon’s eyes opened. At first, it was a look of extreme pain and weariness. It then grew to confusion and a hint of fright.

 

And then Targon realized where he was and who he was looking at.

 

“X-Xana?” he rasped.

 

The Falleen’s face exploded with shock and then broke into a tearful smile. She fell upon him, squeezing him with her arms and shaking him. She buried her face in his chest.

 

“Impossible!” Rick was aghast. No more than everyone else.

 

Xana helped Targon sit up and, in a flash, the entire crew was upon him.

 

No one was quicker or closer than Rick.

 

“You’re alive!” he squealed. “You’re alive! You’re alive! Don’t ever scare me like that again, you hear me!”

 

Targon was unable to speak. He was smothered by his companions and his utter amazement at what had just happened.

 

Succuba folded her arms and sighed.

 

Greyhawk rose and stared at her.

 

“Told you I could do it,” she shrugged. “Now…you going to kill me? Arrest me? What?”

 

The old soldier closed his eyes a moment, took a breath, and then shook his head.

 

“You are free to go,” he said simply, with great effort.

 

“Just like that?”

 

Greyhawk’s nostrils flared. “You saved our friend’s life. That earns you this one pass. Go, before someone who doesn’t share my generosity stops you.”

 

She nodded and bounded off, not taking a single look back.

 

“I just can’t believe it!” Rick hollered as he squeezed his first mate’s neck.

 

“Rick…could you…loosen up your…grip…please?” Targon gasped.

 

“How is this possible?” Tygus shook his head in amazement.

 

Targon looked at him. “You…you’re new.”

 

The cat nodded.

 

“I remember…you’re the one bounty hunter that…”

 

Tygus nodded again.

 

Targon smiled and nodded in return.

 

“Just what did that creature do?” Gabrielle asked. “How…how did she bring you back to life? You were dead for certain!”

 

Targon just gave them all a blank look of total loss.

 

“I…I’m just glad I’m back,” he sighed.

 

Conclusion of Episode Twenty

[RulithBarakis]

And so we are nearing the end, eh? I can say for a fact that I'm a little sad about that. It's been an amazing read for almost an entire year now, so the fact that it's gonna be ending soon is kind of a shock. But I'll keep on reading, on to the end!

[TargonKarashi]

Episode Twenty-One – Black Dominion

 

Chapter One

 

Despite the crowds, the fleets, and the chaos from across the Republic gathered into one spot, Targon found Carrick Station to be rather peaceful. Especially in the days following everything that had happened.

 

He was sitting alone, meditating on a bench in one of the market areas. A tree and fountain were nearby, and he soaked in the trickling water and bright scent of the leaves.

 

The rest of the world seemed to drift away – the bustle, the voices, everything. He found himself reaching a state of peace, and he smiled inwardly.

 

Targon even started to catch glimpses in the Force. Images of Master Tieru and others that had left the mortal realm long ago. They gave him comfort.

 

He realized he wasn’t alone anymore. Someone was sitting on the bench next to him.

 

His eyes opened and he broke his meditative stance.

 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Xana said.

 

“No bother,” Targon shrugged. “Your presence is just as calming.”

 

She chuckled. “You’d be surprised how many people tell me that.”

 

“Not really, I can fully understand.”

 

Targon sighed and turned to her.

 

“I…I’ve been meaning to speak with you,” he began. “I just…wasn’t sure how to approach it.”

 

“Your death?” she supposed.

 

“That and other things,” Targon nodded. “There was something more important, though.” He paused. “How…how was I brought back?”

 

Xana sighed. “Succuba did it…I don’t know how.”

 

Targon frowned at that. “Why did you allow it? She could have done something terrible…changed me, even…”

 

“I…”

 

Targon recovered quickly. “I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, really. I’m glad to be back, I would have missed you all terribly.”

 

“And we’d have missed you,” Xana nodded.

 

“It’s just…well…that was an awful big risk. I’m sure none of the others were fond of the idea…”

 

“They weren’t,” Xana shook her head. “Rick was eager to shoot the Sith.”

 

“I’m sure,” Targon smiled slightly.

 

“I was the one that made the call,” Xana said after a brief pause.

 

“Why?” Targon asked. “As a Jedi, you know that death is a natural part of life.”

 

Xana frowned. “I couldn’t imagine the crew without you. Despite Rick’s claim as captain…you really are their leader. The others…they needed you.”

 

“What about you?” Targon raised an eyebrow.

 

“I…” Xana sighed. “You are my teacher. I suppose it was selfish…but I wanted you here to keep teaching me.”

 

Targon sighed too, laying his head back against the bench. “What is that supposed to even mean? What can I teach you? We’re the same age, for crying out loud.”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

They were both silent for several minutes. The moment grew more awkward for both of them as it drew on.

 

“I guess I should go,” Xana shrugged. She began to rise.

 

Targon reached out and stopped her.

 

“There’s something I need to say…something else,” he said softly.

 

She sat back down.

 

Targon closed his eyes and took a few large breaths.

 

“My spirit didn’t want to come back,” he said at last. “I thought I was at peace after…after stopping Scorpius’ blade. I thought I had fulfilled my destiny in this life. But then, as I was brought back…something made me want to come back more than anything. I’d have given up everything to come back to see it again.”

 

“What was it?” Xana asked.

 

Targon didn’t answer right away. He needed to take a few more breaths again to try to calm the burning nerves inside his gut.

 

He muttered something that not even he could hear.

 

Xana frowned. “What was that?” she asked again.

 

Targon sighed heavily.

 

“It was…”

 

Someone appeared before them. Three someones.

 

They were Jedi, both of them could tell. They were clad in brown robes and sleek gray armor.

 

The lead man had dark skin and an oriental mustache. His eyes were harsh and rigid, boring into them both. He was aged, perhaps in his sixties.

 

Next to him was a woman. Her hair was black, save for a white streak right down the middle. Her skin was pale, but her eyes were vibrant – a strange shade of blue, nearly indigo.

 

On the man’s other side was a younger man, half the age of the darker skinned leader. He had blond hair, but a red beard. A bright red scar glared from his light cheek down to his lips.

 

“Targon Karashi,” the lead man announced.

 

“That is me,” Targon nodded, rising to greet them. “Who are you?”

 

“I am Master Jerax,” the black man stated. “With me are Master Erun and Master Daur.” He pointed to the woman and then the man respectively.

 

“An honor to meet you,” Targon bowed. “This is Xana Kalar…”

 

“We are well aware of your companions,” the woman cut him off.

 

“We are also aware of your past actions,” the younger man added. “Most impressive, I must say.”

 

“If unorthodox,” Jerax concurred. “We could use someone like you.”

 

“For what?” Targon asked.

 

“We are part of the Jedi Shadow branch,” Jerax stated. “It is our duty to seek out dark threats and eliminate them. Our current mission is one of the utmost importance.”

 

“I understand,” Targon nodded. “But what does it have to do with me?”

 

“It regards your master, Tieru,” the woman, Master Erun, replied.

 

“Tieru?” Targon frowned.

 

“I suppose we must take the time to explain,” Jerax sighed.

 

“That would be appropriate,” Xana nodded with a frown.

 

Master Daur cleared his throat. “Tieru and his three companions, Masters Eseri, Boreos, and Urak, discovered an ancient power of immeasurable scale and importance.”

 

“Tieru told me,” Targon raised an eyebrow. “He told me of a secret to immortality through a nexus of the Force.”

 

“Correct,” Erun nodded. “They told only the Council and swore to guard it forever with their lives.”

 

“I know about this,” Targon said. “They tried to keep the knowledge from Khan Arc-Saal many years ago.”

 

“And against him, it had been successful,” Jerax sighed. “But Khan was not the only person to discover the secret.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Tieru and his companions destroyed the entrance to this place on Tython, and sealed the knowledge away in the archives. But someone broke into the temple’s archives and accessed the information.”

 

“What?”

 

“This is taking too long to explain,” Erun sighed.

 

“Continue, if you would be so kind,” Xana growled at her.

 

Daur nodded. “The exact location to this mysterious nexus is unknown, even to us. But within a ruin on Tython, there was a gateway that would lead directly to it. Some sort of portal or void through the Force. Tieru destroyed that one…but there is another.”

 

“And now the gate’s location has been discovered by a powerful Sith Lord,” Jerax added. “We have been tasked to stop him, and we require your assistance, Targon.”

 

“Why me?” Targon frowned.

 

“Because you were Tieru’s padawan,” Daur answered simply.

 

“That doesn’t…”

 

“There is no time for debate,” Jerax cut him off. “We must leave for Tattooine immediately.”

 

“Targon isn’t going anywhere,” Xana stated abruptly. “Without his friends.”

 

The three Jedi stared at her and then glanced at each other.

 

Jerax sighed. “Very well, we will travel on your ship, the Lone Eagle. It might be useful to have more hands to assist in this mission. This Sith Lord is not one to be trifled with, and he has taken a large expedition with him into the desert.”

 

“When do we leave?” Targon asked.

 

“Now,” Erun replied.

 

“Rick and the others aren’t going to be happy about that,” Targon sighed. Xana chuckled and nodded with him.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Two

 

There was only one notable feature of the planet Tattooine, from above, anyway.

 

Sand. Endless miles of sand all over the entire world.

 

It didn’t help that the Lone Eagle landed on a rocky butte, hundreds of leagues away from even the smallest of settlements.

 

“So, you want to tell us why we set down all the way out here?” Rick asked when the ship had powered down.

 

Jerax glanced at him as though he had barely heard the question.

 

“The expedition was last spotted deep in Imperial territory of the planet. It would have done us no good to land in a Republic settlement on the opposite side.”

 

“Care to fill us all in on the plan, then?”

 

Targon nodded. “You’re putting my friends in great danger landing out here, Master Jerax. The least you could do is explain what we’re getting into.”

 

Jerax frowned at that, but then he sighed and nodded.

 

“We need to sneak into the Imperial outpost on the far side of these dunes. That is where the expedition left from. With any luck, we’ll be able to determine the location of their dig site.”

 

“And we couldn’t have landed closer…why?” Greyhawk grumbled.

 

“Less risk of detection,” Erun answered.

 

“A little closer?” Rick asked.

 

“Quit whining,” Daur sighed. “We’ll make it across quickly, we brought a large swoop after all.”

 

“Not all can fit on it,” Rick pointed out.

 

“Right,” Jerax nodded. “You and the old soldier will remain here. The two bounty hunters as well.”

 

“What?” Rick took a step back. “You brought us all the way out here…to leave us here?”

 

“And what makes you think I want to go with you?” Sorgal frowned.

 

“We need people at the ship to get us out if there are any problems,” Erun stated. “I would have thought you all had realized that.”

 

“But...” Rick groaned.

 

“Enough, we’re wasting time as it is,” Jerax cut him off. “We’re taking you, Sith, because you’re the best way to get through the Imperial outpost with ease.”

 

“Of course,” Sorgal growled. “Everyone needs me only because I’m a Sith.”

 

“What else would you be good for?” Erun asked.

 

Targon cut in before Sorgal could respond to the slight.

 

“If we’re going to make it across this stretch of desert before dark, we’d best be going now. Rick, Greyhawk, Gabrielle, and Tygus – we need you guys to stay. Fly to a Republic outpost if you feel inclined, but be ready to evacuate us when we need you.”

 

“We’ll do it,” Greyhawk nodded. “Only for you, though, Targon.”

 

“Thanks,” Targon smiled weakly and nodded. “That’s all I can ask.”

 

“Let’s go,” Jerax ordered. “It’s a long trip.”

 

---

 

There was no respite to be had for the three dozen diggers and guards amid the endless sandy wastes. The twin suns beat down on them like an unyielding foe, trying to stop their efforts to remove the shifting dunes.

 

Machines grabbed large shovelfuls of sand and moved it out, and yet it seemed like no progress was being made. The sand that remained simply slid down into the hole and refilled it.

 

A few large stone pillars jutted from the dunes, but the shade was useless in the heat. The only ones allowed near the structures were Sith scholars, eagerly translating the strange text carved into the stone sides.

 

Their chatter and prattle was unheeded by the score or so of workers from various races that toiled with the machinery and tools. Amid them, they swore and cursed and groaned under the fierce eyes of Imperial soldiers and ferocious mercenaries.

 

A man approached the lead scholar, a Muun that wrote down his findings in the rock on his datapad, all the while muttering, “Fascinating,” every few seconds.

 

The arrival was a Sith in a heavy cloak. He scratched constantly at his grizzled white beard and wiped buckets of sweat from his brow with his sleeves.

 

“Well, Huzon,” the man panted under the heat. “It’s been more than seven hours of work. Have we made any progress?”

 

“Why yes,” the scholar nodded excitedly. “There are volumes of information on these pillars. Words of an ancient culture from thousands of years ago. Before the Republic had even formed, I’m sure.”

 

“I mean progress towards the gate,” the man growled, his wrinkled skin tightening. “Lord Hades is growing impatient.”

 

“Well, there’s lots of sand and lots of information to go through,” the Muun shrugged. “We’re working as fast as we can, but if he thinks it will go faster, Hades is more than welcome to come down and pick up a shovel.”

 

“Watch your tone, bookworm,” the Sith hissed.

 

“Please,” Huzon rolled his eyes. “You don’t have the authority to harm me, Lord Gioku. Only Hades does, since he’s a member of the Dark Council. I am a lead professor from the academy on…”

 

An armed mercenary appeared, dragging a corpse behind him. His sudden arrival caught both the old men’s attention.

 

The merc was clad in a dark cloak, wearing a large, wide-brim hat.

 

“What’s this, Urxes?” Gioku asked.

 

“This?” the mercenary kicked the body. “This was a worker that found a curious little artifact in the site and tried to hide it for himself. It had a marking on it that I’m sure you would want to see.”

 

“And you killed him without orders?” Gioku frowned.

 

“Um…yeah?” the man replied carelessly. “That’s kind of what I was hired for…dealing with the rabble of this expedition.”

 

“You were not hired to pass judgment on…”

 

“Look, old man,” the bounty hunter pulled out a sword and pointed it at him. “Hades wanted someone that would make sure things were done effectively. If he wanted a nice guy, he would have hired that towel-head, Shazzar, or his pet cat. I kill when required. This man wasn’t obeying the rules.”

 

“You arrogant little snot,” Gioku pushed the sword away from his face.

 

“Look, if you don’t want it,” Urxes regarded the artifact in his pocket. “I’ll just take it to Hades myself.”

 

Gioku’s face turned red. “Give it to me and I will take it to him. Get back to your post, bounty hunter.”

 

Urxes handed him the trinket, dropped the corpse in the sand, and walked off.

 

“We’d better make progress when I come back,” Gioku snapped at Huzon, just before walking off.

 

Making his way across the dig site, Gioku came towards a massive boulder that jutted out from the dunes, towering over the area. It provided no shade, however, and no one was allowed near it.

 

No one, except the hunched old man standing atop the stone.

 

Hades was leaning on his cane, scanning over the site with eyes sheltered by his large black hood. The heat seemed to have no effect on him, and he stood as he always did, unaffected and aloof from the environment.

 

Gioku approached and knelt before him.

 

“What was all that prattle about over there,” the withered old man asked.

 

“I was just clearing things up for Huzon and Urxes.”

 

“Of course,” the Dark Lord nodded. “What’s that you have there?”

 

“An artifact one of the workers found,” Gioku replied, handing it to the member of the Dark Council.

 

Hades took it in one of his wrinkled and haggard hands. Turning it over several times, he inspected the object with careful eyes.

 

“Ah, the mark of the source,” he grinned a wicked smile. “See it here?” He pointed to a green symbol etched into the trinket. It looked like a stylized leaf or some other plantlike image.

 

“We must be getting close,” Gioku smiled in return.

 

“We’ve been close for days,” a voice laughed from behind. “It doesn’t mean we’ll find anything today.”

 

Gioku whirled about to snarl at the man that was hiking up the boulder to join them. He was far younger, only in his twenties. He wore the black garb of a Sith, with his own hood and cloak, but he walked with an air of confidence…even a bit of swagger.

 

His face bore several slave markings, but his eyes were full of purpose and power.

 

“Ah, Draakis,” Hades chuckled. “Back from the outpost?”

 

The young man nodded. “My lord, another group of workers will be shipping out this evening to join us. Hopefully some fresh meat will make things go a little quicker.”

 

“You should show Darth Hades more respect,” Gioku growled. “You didn’t even bow to him.”

 

“Oh, my apologies,” Draakis feigned humility and made a mocking bow. “That more to your liking, dear Gioku? Or should I bow to you too? I warn you, though, I won’t kiss your hand.”

 

“You’re worse than Urxes and Huzon combined,” Gioku spat.

 

“Worse? In what way?”

 

Gioku rolled his eyes and turned away. “No respect, no discipline…you must be completely insane.”

 

“I prefer the term ‘misunderstood’,” the young Sith smiled.

 

“Enough, both of you,” Hades sighed. “Any more arguing and I’ll have you both out there digging with the rest. Can’t you feel it? We are getting close. Very close.”

 

“If you say so, my lord,” Draakis shrugged. “I’m just tired of sitting around and digging. When do the murder and mayhem start?”

 

“Soon,” Hades replied. “When the secret to immortality is ours.”

[RulithBarakis]

Urxes

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Three

 

A storm had erupted on Dromund Kaas. Usually there was always lightning and a bit of rain, but this was much stronger than usual.

 

The thunder and the shaking of the windows didn’t bother, Viruul, though. He kept sleeping through it.

 

He awoke when he heard a ping at the door.

 

With a grumble, he got up and donned his cloak. The ringing chimed again and again, impatiently.

 

“Alright, alright,” he snapped.

 

He opened the door and glanced at the group of five Imperial guards standing before him.

 

“There had better be a good reason for waking me,” he hissed.

 

The lead guard nodded. “An urgent meeting has been called for the Dark Council. The Emperor’s voice is said to be speaking.”

 

“Now, what is that supposed to mean?” Viruul frowned. “The Emperor is showing up? Or one of his lackeys is speaking?”

 

“I can’t say, Lord Viruul…but does it really matter?”

 

Viruul folded his arms. “What sort of meeting? Why? Half the Council is away. Hades himself is off on some expedition…”

 

“It is of the utmost importance,” the man replied. “All Dark Lords present are required to attend. The Emperor’s will.”

 

“Well,” Viruul yawned. “Who am I to oppose the Emperor’s will? If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”

 

“We are tasked with escorting you, my lord.”

 

“Thanks, but I don’t need an escort…”

 

“The Emperor insists.”

 

Viruul’s frown deepened at that. “Is there anything I can say that will make you go away?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then lead on.”

 

It was a brisk walk. The halls were empty, and the guards kept a fast pace. Viruul kept his eyes on them, keeping a special watch on the lead guard. There was something seriously wrong about this.

 

Problem was, he couldn’t prove anything. If it really was an important meeting…not showing up at all would be embarrassing. So he just followed their lead.

 

For now.

 

The Council chambers were dark when they entered. There was nobody inside.

 

“Is this some sort of joke?” Viruul growled. “If it is, I swear…”

 

“It’s no joke,” a voice called from the shadows.

 

Viruul reached out through the Force and turned on the lights.

 

It turned out there was someone in the room after all.

 

The hulking, red-skinned form of Darth Fuhron sat in Viruul’s chair. He was clad fully in his black armor, his face glittering with gold piercings.

 

“What is the meaning of this?” Viruul spat. “Another attempt to intimidate me? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, Fuhron? Getting the unquestioningly loyal guards to lie for you?”

 

“They didn’t lie,” the Pureblood hissed. “I am the Emperor’s voice.”

 

“His wrath, you mean.”

 

“His voice of wrath,” Fuhron corrected.

 

“For all your menace,” Viruul shook his head. “You certainly don’t share a wit to match.”

 

Fuhron ignored him. “The Emperor is displeased. For months you have squandered resources and allies in your pursuit for a single Jedi boy. And then, after you have him, you lose him during your stupid powerplay to get rid of a mighty servant.”

 

“I don’t suppose you’re referring to Scorpius,” Viruul sighed.

 

“This is no joking matter, Viruul,” Fuhron rose and bellowed. “You have failed for the last time.”

 

“Failed?” Viruul felt the rage inside him ignite. “Failed?! You dare speak to me of failed? I am the only member of this Council that has succeeded in taking down the enemies of the Empire.”

 

“No, you are a vile, paranoid fool, Viruul. Your inquisitions and disdain for Imperial Intelligence have cost thousands of lives and countless credits. Your ambitions and political schemes have turned Sith and Mandalorians and Moffs against one another. It ends now.”

 

Viruul threw back his sleeves.

 

“Are you threatening me, Lord Fuhron?”

 

The Pureblood activated his lightsaber. The room echoed with the grim humming.

 

“As of now, Viruul, you are cast down from your seat on the Dark Council. You are stripped of your title of Darth. Your positions within the Empire are revoked. Your life is forfeit.”

 

Viruul’s eyes burned like raging stars, his teeth bared and his fists clenched.

 

“Such is the Emperor’s command,” Fuhron finished.

 

With a roar, Viruul unleashed a lightning storm of incredible intensity. The bolts flew from his fingers and exploded into the circle chairs.

 

Fuhron leaped out of the way and landed firmly on the ground. Then he charged at the former member of the Dark Council, swinging his saber wide.

 

Viruul’s blade was in his hand at once, countering the Emperor’s Wrath. Their blades crackled and sparked against one another.

 

Then Fuhron pushed forward, hurtling Viruul back. He kept the assault, charging right in after him. Viruul kept his sword out to protect himself, but he could feel the enormous strength of his foe swiftly sapping through his own.

 

He howled and sent out a massive wave through the Force. Furhon flew back but landed again on his feet. The guards were not so lucky. The shockwave crushed their bones and slammed their bodies into the wall.

 

Fuhron snarled with cruel fangs. He raised his hand and clenched his fingers together.

 

Viruul rose into the air with a start. He hissed as he struggled against the grip. Yet somehow, there was nothing he could do. Fuhron’s hold was too complete.

 

The Pureblood swung his hand down and slammed Viruul into the ground. Then he raised it again and sent him down again. After that, he gestured towards the wall and slammed Viruul into that as well.

 

It was all Viruul could do to push back with the Force to keep from being utterly crushed.

 

Again and again. Five more times Fuhron smashed him into the steel surfaces of the room until finally, he thrust him out the window.

 

Glass shattered and metal groaned and squealed. Viruul was flying through the air amid thousands of glittering shards.

 

He roared in fury as he tumbled down. Down and down from the high towers of the Citadel. The ground was far below, as were dozens of other spires and structures. Speeders zipped by around him, birds shrieked as he passed them.

 

At last, Viruul vanished into the darkness.

 

---

 

Targon could see where the Imperial outpost was long before they came within view of it.

 

It was kind of hard to miss the plumes of black smoke rising over the horizon.

 

“Now what do you suppose that is?” Sorgal asked. “A sandcrawler’s carburetor break down?”

 

“That’s a fire,” Master Erun stated. “I can smell the stench of burning metal and plastic.”

 

“What would cause a base to set fire?” Targon asked.

 

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Jerax replied.

 

Find out they did.

 

It took nearly an hour to get over the last dune, and from atop it, they could see the entire field.

 

The outpost hadn’t been very big, only a command center and a few landing pads surrounding a mess hall. There had obviously been a lot of fuel and other combustible material within those structures, though. Every one of them was ablaze. Ships, speeder bikes, and moisture vaporators were belching smoke from them as well.

 

Across the sand, bodies were everywhere. Imperial soldiers, mercenary warriors, technicians, and archeologists. All dead…all burned.

 

“What happened?” Xana gasped. “What could do this?”

 

“Let’s find out,” Daur suggested. “There might be a survivor or two. We need to find one.”

 

He started sprinting down the side of the dune towards the base. Everyone else soon followed.

 

The stench was nearly unbearable up close. All around, small fires burned and oozed with a foul smoke and waste. The sand was red with blood, anything larger than a womp rat was scorched with black marks.

 

As they searched the scene of the slaughter, they noticed other bodies that gave an answer to what happened.

 

“Look here!” Sorgal called to the others. They gathered around.

 

“Sand people,” Jerax sighed. “I should have figured as much.”

 

He knelt down and studied the mangled robes that were well recognized as the dreaded natives of Tattooine.

 

“This doesn’t make sense,” Targon frowned. “From the records I’ve read, there have only rarely been major attacks by Sand People against military bases. Settlements are attacked all the time…but camps of soldiers?”

 

“Seems it was a large party,” Erun observed, studying more bodies that lay only a few meters away. “Deep desert kinds…vicious and brutal.”

 

“Still,” Sorgal shook his head. “This base looks like it was well guarded and well supplied. They probably had weapons enough to hold off just about any attack.”

 

“Might be that this was a different kind of Sand People raid,” Daur suggested. “I’m seeing all sorts of strange tracks in the sand. Look here.”

 

He pointed to an immense imprint, nearly as large as a person.

 

“What do you make of it?” Jerax asked. “Bantha?”

 

“No, it’s too big for a bantha,” Daur answered. “It was some sort of large beast though…I’d bet a krayt dragon.”

 

“But Sand People can’t master dragons,” Erun frowned. “Those beasts are the largest predators on Tattooine. It’s impossible.”

 

“Obviously not,” Xana frowned at her. “Since we see a track here and the obvious signs of battle.”

 

“Well, this ruins our lead to the expedition,” Targon sighed. “What do we do now?”

 

Jerax shook his head. “The trail doesn’t end here, Targon. We follow the Sand People’s tracks.”

 

“What?”

 

The Jedi Master pointed to the footprints. “Instead of turning around from where they came, or continuing on their previous path, the Sand People seem to have turned northwest. A lot of wreckage spills that way too, and I can see a few bodies of Imperials that were running off that direction.”

 

“That is likely the way to the expedition,” Erun nodded. “And the Sand People are headed there too. We’ll follow them, and stop this dig amid the chaos.”

 

“The suns are setting,” Daur pointed out. “We’d better hurry while we still have light.”

 

“What about this?” Targon gestured to the scene. “Might there be more survivors?”

 

“Doesn’t look like there are any?” Sorgal shrugged.

 

“Nor do I sense any,” Jerax nodded. “We have more pressing business. We must push on.”

 

“Well, we could at least stop and rest…” Sorgal began.

 

Erun cut him off. “The Sith aren’t resting, and neither are the Sand People. We cannot allow either of them to uncover the gate.”

 

“We press on,” Daur concurred.

 

Targon, Xana, and Sorgal all glanced at each other and gave a united sigh. Then they followed after the Jedi into the desert again.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Four

 

The stars were incredibly bright and numerous. Tens of thousands glittered over the empty fields of sand and rock.

 

Only a few lights shone from the ground, small camps of mercenaries and diggers huddling for warmth from the bitter cold of the desert planet’s night.

 

All the heat of the day had been sapped away, and now, there was frost starting to creep along the tents and vehicles.

 

Gioku’s muscles were rigid and tense as they shivered to keep some heat inside his body. His black robes clung to his skin, damp with sweat from the hot day before. Now it only made things all the worse.

 

The thought of gratitude that the wind was not blowing never crossed his mind. He simply fumed and grumbled, stomping across the sand to reach his tent.

 

Something struck his foot.

 

Glancing down, he gave a disgusted scowl and spat.

 

“You.”

 

“Me,” Draakis replied, smiling. His teeth sparkled in the dark.

 

“What are you doing lying on the ground?” Gioku hissed.

 

“Do you really care?”

 

The old Sith grumbled at that and started to walk off.

 

Draakis called after him.

 

“You ever take time to gaze at the countless number of stars?” he asked.

 

Gioku paused. “No, I don’t waste my time with such trivialities. I have important matters to attend to. A careless boy like you wouldn’t understand.”

 

“Oh, I understand alright,” Draakis countered. “The stars were my entertainment as a child. After working in quarries and crop fields from sunup to sundown, the stars were what I could watch and dream about.”

 

“I didn’t care before,” Gioku growled. “And I don’t care now.”

 

The young Sith sat up. “You said you don’t waste time, Lord Gioku, didn’t you? So why are you out here?”

 

“What?”

 

“Why are you wasting time out here in the desert?”

 

Gioku turned around and let the boy see the utter contempt in his face. “I am here to gain the secret of immortality with my longtime associate. That good enough for you?”

 

“Any idea where Lord Hades learned of this secret?”

 

“I haven’t asked, he hasn’t said,” Gioku shrugged. “You shouldn’t concern yourself with the workings of your superiors.”

 

Draakis shook his head. “I know where he learned about it.”

 

“Do you?’ Gioku snorted.

 

The young man nodded. “You think I’m worthless because I was a slave, and only became a Sith recently. You think I’m a young man that knows nothing of the ways of the world.”

 

“That’s putting it mildly,” Gioku nodded. “You are all that, and a fool above all. You have no titles, you have no influence…I don’t know why Hades even brought you here. Probably because he wanted lackeys he didn’t have to pay.”

 

“Hades has no lack of funds,” Draakis said as he stood up. “He hired that bloodthirsty bounty hunter, after all. But I know why I’m here.”

 

Gioku couldn’t believe he was taking the bait. “Why are you here, then?”

 

“I’m the one that told Hades about the secret to immortality.”

 

A sudden hush befell the world. Gioku stood with his mouth agape.

 

“What are you talking about?” he growled at last. “How dare you make such stupid, reckless claims…?”

 

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” Draakis grinned.

 

Gioku fumbled for a response, but couldn’t find one.

 

“Oh no,” the boy laughed. “I’m not some undercover agent of the Emperor or anything like that. Actually, I’m exactly what everyone thinks I am. I was a slave from Sleheyron originally. Born and raised in chains.”

 

“And you got free by being Force-sensitive and became a foolish, psychopathic Sith,” Gioku sighed. “I’ve heard your kind of story before. You’re nothing new.”

 

Draakis smirked at him.

 

“Well, here’s the part of the story you haven’t heard. One day, I was taken to another planet – I forget the name – to be sold. There was a Jedi Master there. An old woman, one of those blind Miraluka. Called herself Master Eseri.”

 

“And I’m bored already,” Gioku started to turn and walk away.

 

“Now who’s acting like the impudent child?” Draakis laughed. “Long story short – she was later reported dead. Killed by a fallen Jedi or rogue Sith…no one knows for sure. There was a journal, though, found and sold by one of her underworld associates. I stole it for myself when I heard what it contained.”

 

Gioku grumbled. “Yeah, yeah, she had entries about a secret to immortality. She had found out about it and was trying to hide it. I see where this is going.”

 

Draakis’ grin grew larger. “Think so, huh? You think I’m lying, don’t you? I wouldn’t blame you. No one believed me. That is…until I broke into the Jedi Temple and found more records on the matter.”

 

Gioku’s eyes widened. “You? Broke into the Jedi Temple? How? You’re just a pup! A glorified acolyte!”

 

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” Draakis smiled. “Hades believed me, and that’s why I’m here. Because I’m the one that gave him the lead for immortality. Now, ask yourself…why are you here?”

 

“Don’t try to play mind games with me, boy,” Gioku hissed. “I’m far more powerful than you could hope to be. Even if you are some favored pup of Lord Hades…”

 

There was a ruckus of shouting rising over a dune that cut him short. It was soon followed by a loud trumpeting over a megaphone.

 

It was Huzon’s voice.

 

“We found it! We found it! We found the entrance!”

 

Mercenaries and diggers were scurrying about, getting their equipment and rallying around the dig site.

 

Gioku growled. “Of course it has to be the middle of the night when we find it…”

 

“Oh, don’t sound so upset,” Draakis chuckled. “When you’re immortal, you can sleep all you like. Me, I’ll be enjoying the sound of dying screams for eternity.”

 

“You are sick,” Gioku spat at him while making his way down to the site.

 

“Well,” Draakis shrugged. “We’ve all got problems. You’re old and grouchy.”

 

---

 

Men were rushing to clear the sand away, though it only fell back in to the hole when they moved it.

 

Hades leaned on his cane, his lips curled into an expectant smile as he watched them work. His crooked, wrinkled fingers tapped on the fine wood surface.

 

Others weren’t as patiently awaiting them to finish uncovering the door. Huzon was hounding them. “Faster! Faster!” he urged incessantly. “You’re being paid when the job’s done, not by the hour!”

 

The men weren’t making very effective progress. The sand kept trickling back down, covering three inches for every two they revealed.

 

When Gioku and Draakis arrived, they were still at it. Even Hades was starting to lose patience. His tapping grew faster and harder.

 

“This is just ridiculous,” Gioku sighed. He pushed his way through and started making swiping motions with his hand. The sand moved away slowly at first. But then it started to fall back and stay back in large clumps.

 

At last, the entire door was uncovered.

 

It was a flat surface lying along the ground. It was black as obsidian and carved with strange markings.

 

Huzon knelt down and started studying the figures.

 

Lord Hades tapped him with his cane.

 

“Sorry to interrupt your scholarly curiosity,” the withered old man grinned an ugly smile. “But there’s more valuable things beyond the door. I’d like to get to them.”

 

Huzon bowed. “As you wish, my lord.”

 

He stepped away as Hades waved his hand over the surface. There was a loud creak, and then a hissing of escaping air. Finally, the door lifted up and moved aside, revealing a deep, dark pit.

 

“How the blazes does something like this stay hidden and intact in the desert?” Gioku gasped. “It’s impossible!”

 

“Not so,” Huzon replied. He was kneeling near the door, scooping away sand. “The sand goes down a bit…but beneath is solid rock. It might be there’s a whole cavern down there…hidden by the sand.”

 

“All very interesting,” Hades nodded. “But of little consequence. There doesn’t appear to be any ladders or stairs going down. How do you propose we make our way in?”

 

“You could jump,” Urxes shrugged.

 

“Silence, bounty hunter,” Gioku hissed.

 

“Well,” Draakis pushed his way forward. He leaned over to inspect the hole, whistling at the stench of stagnant air within. “I suppose we use a rope.”

 

Hades nodded and turned to Huzon. “Why don’t you go find us a few ropes?”

 

Huzon bowed and turned to some mercenaries. “Men, go get some rope…”

 

“No,” Draakis cut him off. “Lord Hades asked you.”

 

The Muun scowled with indignation. Urxes snickered at that, and Hades cracked an amused smile.

 

Gioku frowned. “You’d better stop overstepping your authority, boy. Your life may well depend on it.”

 

Hades sighed. “My friend, you have all the time in the galaxy to bicker with the boy. For now, let’s just get going.”

 

Huzon walked off and came back several minutes later with ropes. Workers tied them to deeply entrenched bases and then cast the lines down into the pit.

 

“Well,” Hades smiled. “Who wants to go first?”

 

No one spoke.

 

“I suppose I will,” Draakis finally shrugged, breaking the awkward silence.

 

“Oh no you don’t,” Gioku grabbed him. “You’re going in last, when we are all at the bottom.”

 

“What? Don’t you trust me?”

 

Gioku ignored his sarcasm. “Urxes, you go in first.” He then pointed to five other mercenaries. “You men follow. Secure the bottom, make sure everything is fine. Huzon will follow, and then Hades, and then myself.”

 

Urxes glared at him silently. Then he shook his head and grabbed the nearest rope. In a single motion, he slid into the hole, down the rope, and then disappeared.

 

The men followed Gioku’s instructions. Finally, everyone was down and it was Draakis’ turn.

 

“You coming, boy?” Gioku called from below.

 

Draakis grabbed the rope and slowly worked his way down. Just before his head dropped below the hole, there was a commotion from the expedition crew.

 

“What’s going on up there?” Hades asked.

 

Draakis paused and craned his neck to see. There was shooting and shouting, cursing and screaming…and the unmistakable howls of the Sand People.

 

“Oh, what rotten timing,” Draakis shook his head. “I guess I’ll be missing the show…”

 

He continued on, zipping the rest of the way down. Just before he hit the bottom, he waved a finger and closed the obsidian door on top, sealing it shut as the screams grew louder above.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Five

 

The night was dark, save for the stars. Targon and his companions followed the three Jedi across the empty, lifeless dunes.

 

There were faint noises in the distance, unintelligible calls and high-pitched whines.

 

The sounds of battle.

 

Above all that, however, came a different noise. This was the sound of a great beast’s roar, echoing through the sands.

 

That made the group pause for a brief moment, but then they kept pushing forward. There was no way to go but onward. To turn back would mean being lost forever in the endless sea of the desert.

 

It was only after perhaps another hour of running that they happened upon the dig site.

 

What was left of it, anyway.

 

Scores of bodies littered the ground. Small fires burned and flashed amid broken machinery and equipment. Black scars marked the signs of battle on the pillars that poked out from the sand.

 

This time, however, there was still a bit of life to be found.

 

The Sand People were gathered around a large pit in the ground. Massive mounds of sand had been piled around it.

 

“That has to be the entrance,” Jerax stated.

 

“What’s the plan, then?” Xana asked. “I count at about twenty Tusken Raiders. That’s quite a bit.”

 

“Not to match six Jedi,” Erun told her.

 

“Twenty raiders just slaughtered dozens of Imperial workers and mercenaries,” Targon pointed out.

 

“Am I the only one seeing that?” Sorgal pointed at the large creature towering over the Sand People.

 

It was giant, more than four meters tall at the shoulder. Immense spikes, as tall as a person, jutted from the back of its skull and down the length of its spine. A huge tail swished back and forth, carving great gouges in the sand.

 

Its jaws dripped with steaming saliva, and its teeth and claws were painted in blood.

 

“So it’s a krayt dragon after all,” Daur sighed. “That will make things difficult.”

 

“We’ve faced worse,” Jerax assured him.

 

“Really?” Sorgal scowled. “Like what, exactly? The Sith Emperor himself, maybe? Or perhaps ten thousand special ops forces?”

 

“I’m getting sick of your mouth,” Erun growled.

 

“Hey, you guys brought me along.”

 

“To fight, not to heckle.”

 

“Enough, both of you,” Jerax snapped. “We need to get through them. The Sith may very well have gotten through before the attack.”

 

“You sure about that?” Targon asked.

 

The three Jedi Masters simply looked at him.

 

“Okay then,” Targon shrugged.

 

“What would these guys be after?” Xana inquired. “They can’t know about the secret, can they? I mean…they’re just savages, after all.”

 

“Savages that know the desert,” Daur pointed out. “Look there – that must be their leader.”

 

Everyone looked to where he pointed. At the head of the group of warriors, pacing around the entrance to the pit, was a raider that looked far different than the others.

 

For one, it wasn’t wearing the traditional Sand People robes. Its back and shoulders were draped with a bantha fur, and clattering bones dangled from around its neck.

 

It also wore a strange head cover – a single piece of cloth that covered its entire face loosely except for a slit for the eyes.

 

Oddly enough, though, was that it wasn’t the largest of the group. Not even close. Yet it seemed to have complete authority over the band.

 

The leader continued to pace around, kneeling occasionally in an attempt to move the cover of the entrance. Finally, it gave up and stepped back.

 

Pointing to the obsidian door, it bellowed a strange sound and then turned its finger towards the dragon.

 

With a roar, the beast swung its tail and slammed it into the stone. Then it struck again and again. The pounding resounded across the dunes.

 

All the while, the leader howled and hollered, urging the creature to continue. It only took about a minute or two before the desert shuddered at the harsh sound of stone cracking and then crumbling.

 

Dust clouded the entrance, billowing out quickly and then slowly settling back down. The party of Sand People backed away, waving the dust away with their gaffi sticks.

 

When at last the cloud had fallen, the desert filled with silence.

 

Then the leader uttered something else and jumped down into the hole.

 

After waiting a moment, the first of the Sand People moved to follow. Three edged closer to the hole, but just before they reached it the krayt dragon snapped them up in its jaws and crushed them.

 

A cry of alarm wailed through the band of raiders. The beast then turned on them as well, swiping at them and smashing them with its claws and tail.

 

“What the…?” Sorgal frowned.

 

“Now’s our chance to get through unnoticed,” Erun smiled.

 

“Now!” Jerax ordered.

 

Without question, the group followed him across the expanse of sand towards the dark pit.

 

They were getting close. Just a stone’s throw away…

 

The massive tail of the creature landed in front of them, blocking their path.

 

Targon, Xana, and Sorgal stopped short while the three other Jedi simply leapt over it and down into the hole.

 

The krayt dragon was eyeing them fiercely. The last of the Tusken Raiders was dangling from its jaws.

 

“Figures,” Targon sighed.

 

It roared and lunged at them with its jaws.

 

The three of them dove in separate directions to avoid it. But then the claws followed after, swiping at them and tossing huge piles of sand into the air.

 

Targon couldn’t see anything around him. He coughed and choked on the grains, desperately trying to cover his mouth and eyes from them.

 

He only had a split second to dive again when a dark shape loomed closer to him. Just a few feet away, one of the dragon’s paws slammed into the sand, kicking yet more of the intolerable dust up.

 

Targon saw a red light appear – Sorgal’s lightsaber. It hacked at the leg of the beast, yet seemed to have no effect. It hardly scratched the monster’s scales.

 

A green light joined in. Xana. Both of them were having a go at the same leg, and yet neither of them were having any luck.

 

The thought came to Targon’s head and he was about to shout it aloud before it happened. He wasn’t quick enough.

 

In a single swipe, both Sorgal and Xana were caught up in another of the beast’s paws. The hurtled through the air and then crashed into the sand. The beast’s jaws were quick to follow.

 

Targon’s saber was instantly in his hand. He activated it as he charged forward.

 

He shouted at the creature, drawing its attention towards him.

 

Instead of turning to face him, however, the dragon responded with a swipe of its tail.

 

Targon saw it coming in time, though. He dropped the ground and rolled beneath it, just squeezing through the tight space between tail and ground.

 

Then he jumped back to his feet and continued. He dashed under the monster’s belly, slashing up at it on several occasions. Still, it seemed to have no effect.

 

He came out the other side and now he was at the creature’s front.

 

It roared at him and batted him away with a claw. Targon tried to avoid it, but he wasn’t able to jump in time. It caught his feet and sent him sprawling.

 

He didn’t wait for a second to get up. Spitting and coughing up sand, he rose and charged again.

 

The beast was ready for him. It opened its jaws wide while also twisting its body to attack with the tail as well.

 

Something grabbed Targon and pulled him to the ground just before the tail reached him. Spitting out sand yet again, he looked up and saw Xana on top of him. She was also enjoying the taste of sand in her mouth.

 

Sorgal took the initiative then. He leapt into the air and planted his feet on the dragon’s lower jaws.

 

With reflexes impossible without the Force’s assistance, he thrust his saber upwards, into the roof of the beast’s mouth.

 

The dragon’s jaws, instead of snapping shut as they had intended, stopped short. A horrible shriek howled from its throat, throwing Sorgal into the air.

 

It thrashed about, clawing at its snout. Blood gushed from the wound and stained the sand.

 

After several minutes, it finally lay quiet and still.

 

Targon and Xana got to their feet, rushing over to where Sorgal had landed.

 

The Sith was groaning and rubbing his back.

 

“Well,” he grunted. “That was…fun…”

 

“That was incredible,” Targon gasped. “How fast you struck before it crushed you – I don’t think anyone’s ever done that before.”

 

“Sure they have,” Sorgal shrugged when he was finally up at his feet. “What was really surprising was how you stole my line before the fight.”

 

Targon raised an eyebrow while Xana snickered. Then he sighed and smiled.

 

“Well, shall we continue?” Sorgal suggested.

 

Targon shook his head. “Xana and I will catch up with Jerax and the others. We need you to stay up here and call Rick.”

 

“Call the ship?” Sorgal frowned. “While you go kick some serious butt I just get to sit here?”

 

“We’re going to need everyone,” Xana pointed out. “Especially if this Sith Lord is as powerful as the others claim.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Sorgal sighed. “But how do I call them?”

 

Targon pointed to the field of bodies. “You’ll probably find a comlink somewhere over there. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

 

Sorgal grumbled and trudged across the sand to start searching.

 

Targon and Xana approached the entrance of the pit.

 

Something dark and menacing was coming from within, and it made them hesitate.

 

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Xana frowned.

 

“So do I,” Targon nodded. “But we’ve got to keep going.”

 

“Where you lead, I’ll follow,” Xana assured him.

 

“Then I’ll hope I don’t get us killed,” Targon nodded.

 

He jumped in and Xana was right behind him.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Six

 

“This cave stretches on for miles!” Gioku growled. “How come we couldn’t have just drilled through the rock here? Instead of digging for the entrance who knows how far back?”

 

Hades stopped and turned towards him.

 

“Because, frankly, we had no idea about this tunnel.”

 

Gioku didn’t have anything to say to that.

 

They heard footsteps approaching from ahead of them.

 

“Are we going to make a pit stop every couple minutes?” Urxes asked. “We’d be at the end of this thing if you old men would quit whining.”

 

“Do not talk to Lord Hades in that manner!” Huzon shrieked. “He is a Dark Lord!”

 

“And I am losing patience,” Urxes countered. “I might just have to start charging by the hour.”

 

“No need for that,” Draakis assured him. “Gioku won’t be giving us anymore news flashes about his bad mood, will you?”

 

Gioku growled at him.

 

“Press on,” Hades hissed. “It’s not like we have all night.”

 

“I thought you had all the time in the universe…” Urxes was about to say before a glare from the wrinkled old man silenced him. There was a dark power in Hades’ eyes, and even the bounty hunter could see it.

 

They kept walking. The cave was getting narrower as they continued, until they had to move single file. When it finally opened up for a short ways, they reorganized themselves into order.

 

Draakis led the way, despite Gioku’s protests. Lord Hades followed behind him, and then Huzon. Gioku and Urxes followed then, and the rest of the mercenaries took the rear.

 

Again, the path grew narrow…and then it also became winding and crooked. Several times they had to squeeze themselves between the rocks that left barely enough room to fit.

 

Onward they moved, until they happened upon carvings in the rock walls. They stopped to study them, much to the mercenaries’ chagrin.

 

“Can we move this along?” Urxes growled. “It’s a little tight here…”

 

“In a moment,” Huzon hushed him. “Look at these…they’re some sort of inscriptions.”

 

“What do they say?” Gioku asked, though he didn’t really care about the answer.

 

“Well…it’s difficult to make out…” Huzon peered at the writing and tried to bring more light from his lantern towards it.

 

“I know that,” Hades pointed to a few figures. “That is ancient Sith, like in the tombs on Korriban.”

 

“Odd that it should be found out here,” Huzon frowned. “Fascinating. Oh, and look here! This is Rakatan script! I’ve seen it before from the records…”

 

“Well, that isn’t odd,” Gioku shrugged. “The Rakata were here on Tattooine, we all know that. The educated among us, that is.”

 

He directed that last comment at Draakis up ahead.

 

A hand grabbed his shoulder.

 

“Watch what you say, old man,” Urxes hissed fiercely. “I might not be a Sith, but I can still cut you into pieces with my sword.”

 

Gioku shook him off and sighed. “Right, I forgot about our present company…”

 

“Hold on, now,” Draakis exclaimed. “I’ve seen this writing before. This is like some runes I saw on some relics in the Jedi Temple. It must be ancient Tythonian…or something.”

 

“How would you know of such things?” Gioku asked.

 

“I may be young, but I never forget things I’ve seen,” Draakis replied.

 

“The boy is right,” Hades nodded. “How interesting… So many ancient writings…it makes one wonder what this source of power is…it truly must be old and incredible.”

 

“What a discovery it will be!” Huzon grinned.

 

“Well, we’d better keep moving,” Urxes called out.

 

“Still going on about that? Will you just let it drop already?”

 

Urxes spat. “There’s a problem. Two of the men in the rear have gone missing. I’ve sent a couple more to check back there. But I don’t think we’re alone in here.”

 

Gioku frowned at him, and Huzon shuddered.

 

“Alright then,” Hades stroked his chin. “Let’s continue on. We don’t want to meet them in such a crammed space.”

 

They pushed forward. The inscriptions continued along their path, even turning into intricate murals and panoramas carved into the stone.

 

The images they portrayed were strange and grotesque. There were warriors battling with each other, led by mighty heroes. As the scene continued, the men became monstrous beasts that tore each other apart.

 

Then it came to an even more gruesome image – the beasts ripping through armies of soldiers, through cities and citizens, and then spreading across planets and stars.

 

“What do you suppose it all means?” Huzon asked no one in particular. “It’s all quite curious.”

 

“Might be a history, or perhaps just myths,” Hades suggested. “What matters, though, is that this source is of great power. I don’t even need to look at the pictures…I can feel it through the Force.”

 

Urxes muttered something rude and profane under his breath, but Gioku made no attempt to turn around and confront him. Something about the bounty hunter was just plain menacing…and he didn’t want to test the man’s acclaimed skill with a blade. Not in these close quarters.

 

Finally, at last, the path opened up so that it was once again breathable. The only problem was that it split up in two directions.

 

“Well, which way, boy?” Huzon asked Draakis.

 

The young Sith took off his hood and scratched his head.

 

“You want my honest opinion?” he replied. “I don’t know.”

 

“Opinion?” Gioku fumed. “You said you knew the way!”

 

“I said I knew the location and source,” Draakis countered. “I didn’t say I knew exactly how to get there.”

 

“Silence, both of you,” Hades hissed. “I have truly grown sick of your constant bickering and arguing. There’s only one thing to do – split up and see if it connects again.”

 

“You can’t be serious!” Gioku frowned. “They could each lead to opposite sides of Tattooine for all we know.’

 

“No,” Hades shook his head. “I can feel it – we are very close. Less than a mile ahead of us. If one is a dead end, that group will turn around and take the opposite path. Besides, we have comlinks to reach each other.”

 

“They won’t be any good down here,” Urxes spat.

 

“Maybe, maybe not. Draakis, Huzon, you are with me. Urxes, you and the rest of your…where are the rest of your mercenaries?”

 

Everyone turned around and gasped. Besides the bounty hunter, there was only one mercenary left.

 

Urxes slapped the man. “Where are the rest? Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“I didn’t see!” the man answered, shuddering. “I swear…they were right behind me!”

 

Draakis sighed. “Well, this is…unfortunate. I have an idea. How about, Huzon and Gioku take the left path, while Hades and I take the right? Urxes and his pal can stay here and secure us here.

 

“No need for two to stay,” Hades shook his head. “Urxes, go with Huzon and Gioku. Your man here will await either group’s return…or the reappearance of your other men.”

 

“Fine by me,” Urxes shrugged.

 

“Then it’s settled.”

 

---

 

Draakis couldn’t help but laugh at the blank stone wall in front of him.

 

“What are the odds that ours was the dead end?”

 

Hades wasn’t smiling.

 

“The odds were fifty-fifty,” he stated simply. “But now we’ve lost time…and Gioku and Huzon are at the prize. You know full well that they could easily…”

 

Draakis laughed harder.

 

“No, my lord, they won’t get anywhere, even if they found it.”

 

“Oh?”

 

The young Sith nodded. “They won’t know how to open the gate.”

 

“So there’s another gate?”

 

“Obviously,” Draakis replied. “Since I just said that.”

 

“Typical Sith behavior,” a contemptuous voice said from behind.

 

Draakis and Hades turned to face a pair of Jedi. One was a woman with a white streak in her black hair, the other was a man with blonde hair and a red beard.

 

“Ah, our Jedi shadows,” Draakis smiled.

 

“You knew Jedi were following us?” Hades frowned.

 

“Sure, after all, I did break into the Temple. You didn’t think I got off without a tail, did you?”

 

“You broke into the temple?” the woman scowled. “You? A mere boy?”

 

Draakis smiled. “At least you address me as a boy. Everyone else just assumes I’m a slave because of my face.”

 

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” the man shrugged.

 

“I am Master Erun,” the woman announced. “This is Master Daur. We are here to stop your little scheme.”

 

“Little scheme?” Hades cackled. “Why, I don’t think I’ve been so insulted in all my years.”

 

“I have,” Draakis sighed.

 

The Jedi activated their sabers. They glowed blue, illuminating the narrow cave.

 

Hades cackled again, louder this time.

 

“Such fools you Jedi are,” he grinned. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

 

“Just another power hungry Sith Lord,” Daur replied.

 

Draakis joined in Hades’ laughter.

 

“I am Lord Hades,” the old man hissed. “Oldest member of the Dark Council. Tell me, Jedi, how powerful do you think a Sith has to be to reach my age with such a high position?”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Erun poised herself to strike.

 

“Oh, but it does…”

 

He held out his fingers and let the lightning fly.

[RulithBarakis]

Wow... This episode is getting really good. Yeah, I really wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of Hades' lightning. You've gotta feel bad for those two Jedi.

[TargonKarashi]

Chapter Seven

 

Jerax crept out of the opening and slid behind a rock. Two of the Sith and a bounty hunter were just ahead.

It appeared they had found it.

 

The cavern had opened up into a massive chamber, almost perfectly round with a crack in the roof that let in the growing light of dawn.

 

Strange carvings adorned the walls, telling a terrible story of monsters and wars and genocides. The Dark Side was swirling in this place.

 

But the Sith were focusing on something else entirely.

 

A large stone ring stood in the center of the chamber. It was perfectly smooth, carved in obsidian and glittering with blood-red carvings on it.

 

Jerax kept still as he listened to them converse.

 

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” the Muun gasped.

 

“How could it have remained like this for so long?” Gioku asked. “This must be centuries old…even millennia. There is no way it could look like this…almost brand new.”

 

“Maybe it’s a replacement for the one that got damaged,” Urxes shrugged. “Besides, what is it? Is it a gate or something? If so, how do we open it?”

 

“I’ll work on it,” Huzon replied.

 

A trickle of dust dropped from the ceiling. Urxes and Gioku turned and had their weapons in their hands.

 

Something stirred and then dropped from the wall. The brown cloth it wore nearly had it completely camouflaged.

 

“It’s one of the Sand People!” Gioku growled.

 

“How did it get here?” Urxes hissed.

 

The creature said nothing, but simply attacked. In one hand it held a chieftan’s gaffi, but in the other…

 

…It held a red lightsaber.

 

Its speed was incredible, darting into them swinging at both men, and then dashing away before they could counter. It leapt onto the wall and sprung off it, flying towards them and making another flurry of blows.

 

Gioku stumbled from the speedy attacks, but Urxes held strong, holding off each strike with his blade.

 

“What is that thing?” Huzon shrieked as he cowered behind the stone ring.

 

Gioku spat as dust was kicked into his face. He lashed out with lightning, but he struck nothing. He swung again with his saber at the enemy, and yet he cut nothing but air.

 

“Hold still!” he roared.

 

“Save your breath,” Urxes hissed at him.

 

The warrior finally came to a stop right between them. As they both lunged at it, it spun around incredibly fast. A twister of sand kicked up and actually picked them both up into the air and threw them.

 

Urxes struck the wall, most directly at his head. He fell unconscious to the ground.

 

Gioku landed in sand, but he groaned as his frail body wracked with pain. He struggled to get up, but he felt a foot hold him down.

 

He barely had time to look up before the savage’s gaffi stick smashed into his skull.

 

Jerax took a deep breath, turning away from the scene. He could hear the Muun’s screams and wails for mercy. They were completely unheeded.

 

When it was quiet again, he emerged and activated his saber. The yellow light glimmered in the gloom of dawn creeping in.

 

The warrior turned to face him.

 

“I think you’ve killed enough people,” Jerax announced. “It’s time you were put to a stop.”

 

He was surprised when the savage laughed at that. It was a strangely feminine laugh.

 

That didn’t make sense – no Tusken Raider chief was a woman…

 

It attacked at once, swinging saber and gaffi together.

 

Jerax blocked one and then the other, countering each strike in turn. This foe was quick, but he had the reflexes to match.

 

In a flick, he took the gaffi out of its hands. The club landed in the sand several meters away.

 

But the raider seemed unworried. Instead, it simply placed both its hands on the hilt of its saber and changed fighting styles.

 

Now it was lightning fast, quicker than any natural muscle movement – even those enhanced by the Force.

 

Jerax felt himself losing ground, so he changed tactics as well.

 

He made a mighty bound and jumped over his enemy’s head. Landing on the other side, he assaulted it with an intense variety of attacks. From the left, up from below, from the right, over the head…

 

Amazingly, the enemy parried each attack with ease – and then it took the chance to counterattack with a ferocity that Jerax had never seen.

 

He was being pushed back further and further, until he ran into the wall of the chamber. Then he made his move to get out of the trap.

 

Jerax charged forward, swinging his saber. It was smooth and powerful. The attack would surely break through this simple raider’s defense.

 

The creature twirled away from his blade, avoiding it completely.

 

Not completely. He sliced through the bantha hide and the robes. The smell of burning hair filled the chamber – with all its foulness.

 

The robes fluttered off, and it seemed his foe simply shrugged the rags off carelessly.

 

Jerax saw that it wasn’t a Tusken Raider at all.

 

It was a woman – a Zabrak – thin and pale-skinned. Her eyes were dark and sunk, glowing with the hideous flame of the Dark Side. She had scars everywhere.

 

“A Sith?” he frowned. “A rogue?”

 

She said nothing, but simply smiled a cruel grin. Her teeth were fangs, especially the canines.

 

Jerax charged at her, swinging his saber. She was even quicker now, however, with the lack of robes. She spun around him, leapt into the air, and landed behind him.

 

With a kick, she sent his lightsaber flying from his hand. Then she used her other leg to send his feet out from under him.

 

Jerax toppled into the sand and rolled. He started to get up, but she was on him. He felt a snap and roared in pain.

 

Her feet had landed on his arms and crushed his wrists.

 

He struggled to get away from under her feet. He kicked her and then started crawling towards his saber. If he could get past the pain of the broken bones, he could defeat her…

 

A rock struck his head. He fell and remained down, dazed and discombobulated. He couldn’t hear anything except the harsh ringing in his ears. The world seemed to spin and collapse around him.

 

His senses barely registered anything as she grabbed his head and pinned him down.

 

Then her fangs sank into his neck.

 

---

 

Hades and Draakis had been walking in silence for a long time. It was only when they could see the faint light of day ahead that they spoke.

 

“I know you’re a Dark Lord and all,” Draakis sighed. “But couldn’t you at least have saved one of those Jedi for me?”

 

Hades chuckled. “Had they been able to endure a little better, you would have had your chance. But that’s the problem with Jedi – they think they are stronger than they really are. The only time they understand is at the end.”

 

“I suppose that’s true,” Draakis nodded. “Ah, but look, here’s the chamber – and the gate is inside.”

 

They took a breath of relief as they came into the wide, open area. That was only for a moment, for they soon saw the grisly scene that had transpired.

 

A Zabrak woman was kneeling over a Jedi’s body. Gioku and Huzon’s corpses were close by, blood drenched the sand around them.

 

Only Urxes’ body was still breathing – but it was unconscious.

 

The Zabrak stirred and stood to face them. Blood dribbled from her lips and down her cheeks and neck. There was a dark satisfaction in her eyes.

 

“Well,” Hades leaned on his cane. “What have we here?”

 

The Zabrak grinned. “You must be Lord Hades. Everyone knows the withered old man from the Dark Council.”

 

“You must be Sith then,” Hades nodded.

 

“Wait, don’t tell me!” Draakis exclaimed. “Your name is Darth Vampire!”

 

The woman stared at him.

 

“Darth Blood? Darth Nosferat? Darth Batty?”

 

“Shut up, boy,” Hades snapped at him. “This is Darth Arachne, the apprentice of that foul creature Arawn.”

 

“Oh,” Draakis nodded. “I knew that.”

 

Hades turned back to the woman. “You’ve been marked a traitor and an outcast, girl. Your master and Lord Mortis were part of a nasty conspiracy that destroyed a few populous Imperial worlds.”

 

“Thus you find me here, instead of Korriban,” Arachne smiled. Her teeth were red and still dripping. “Why are you here, old man? Does it have to do with this Jedi? Or that stone ring over there?”

 

“That’s none of your concern,” Hades shook his head. “Our business is our own. And Imperial proclamation is that you are to be killed on sight.”

 

“Why?” Draakis frowned. “Such a pretty woman…it would be a horrible waste. Especially one so deadly and effective. Obviously it was her that took out the mercenaries, as well as our friends Huzon and Gioku.”

 

“Which is why she must die,” Hades hissed.

 

“You are welcome to try,” Arachne held out her hands in a taunting gesture.

 

There was a growl, and then Urxes appeared from behind, tackling the Zabrak. The two of them were rolling and snarling in the sand, their fists and knees digging into each other.

 

“Well, that works nicely,” Hades shrugged. “Now what, boy?”

 

“We open the gate,” Draakis pointed to the ring. “You must concentrate all of your power, your hatred, your connection to the Dark Side into the ring. Then it will activate.”

 

“Me?” Hades frowned. “Why not you?”

 

“I am not strong enough, my lord,” Draakis bowed his head to him. “Only a Dark Lord can open it.”

 

“Seems appropriate,” Hades sighed. He made his way towards the ring, leaning heavily on his cane.

 

Once he was before it, he dropped his cane and held out his hands. Lightning sparked and surged between his fingers, and then they shot at the stone structure.

 

At first, nothing seemed to happen. The obsidian appeared to just absorb the electricity without any effect. But after a few moments, the carved markings began to glow a hellish red.

 

Smoke and steam emanated from the rock, and then flames spurted out, like a leaking furnace. The ring began to tremble, and then it began to rotate in place. The bright markings spun around the circle, faster and faster until it became a swirling ring of red light.

 

Draakis watched it eagerly, studying the markings before they spun too fast. Then he kept his eyes on Hades, watching the dark power surge through the old man – more power than he had thought possible in such a hunched, wilting figure.

 

There was a howl behind him.

 

He turned and cringed as he saw Arachne lift Urxes into the air and slam him several times into the stone wall. Then she smashed him into the sand, then the roof, and then the sand again.

 

Cracks began to grow in the walls. They started out tiny and unnoticeable, but they started to spread quickly. Tiny pieces of rock clattered to the ground, but soon they were followed by larger pieces.

 

“Fools!” a voice called.

 

Draakis turned and saw two more Jedi – ones he did not recognize.

 

One was a young boy, the other a Falleen. They had their green sabers drawn.

 

“You’re collapsing the whole place on top of you!” the Falleen shouted.

 

The boy gasped when he caught sight of the ring – but his reaction was even greater upon seeing the Zabrak.

 

“You!” he exclaimed.

 

Arachne laughed at seeing him, losing all interest in the battered bounty hunter on the ground.

 

Things were falling apart even faster now. Giant boulders were raining from the ceiling, threatening to crush everyone below.

 

Draakis turned his sight on Hades and the gate. He smiled.

 

Lightning created a web inside of the ring, arcs crossed each other directly in the center. And then it swirled into a blinding light.

 

A swirling vortex had appeared.

 

Draakis walked towards the ring and pulled out his saber.

 

“The gate is open!” Hades cackled. “Immortality is mine!”

 

“No,” Draakis whispered. “It’s mine.”

 

His crimson blade impaled straight through Hades’ chest. The old man gasped weakly. The lightning and energy pouring from within him dissipated and then extinguished.

 

With a soft thud, the withered and ancient corpse dropped to the ground without a final word, or even a sigh.

 

Draakis deactivated his lightsaber and clipped it to his belt. He put up his hood again and turned slightly.

 

“You coming, girl?” he called to Arachne.

 

She stared at him for a brief moment, but then rushed to follow him into the swirling void.

 

In an instant, they vanished.

 

The whole chamber was trembling. Massive cracks tore through the walls. The light of the morning was filling the whole area, and even larger stones fell from above.

 

Xana fell, but Targon was quick to help her up. Both of them kept wary eyes on Urxes.

 

The bounty hunter scoffed at them.

 

“This has been a complete waste of my time,” he spat. “It won’t even be worth it to kill you two.”

 

With that, he slipped through a crevice and disappeared out into the wide desert.

 

Targon pointed to the hole he left.

 

“Go, Xana!” he shouted over the rumbling of rock. “Get out of here now!”

 

“What about you?” she countered.

 

“I have to go through that portal!” he replied. “I have to stop them!”

 

“Then I’m coming with you,” Xana stated.

 

“No!” Targon pushed her towards the exit. “Go now, while you can! There’s no guarantee I’ll be able to find my way back. I won’t lead you to get stranded!”

 

“Too late!” Xana shrieked, grabbing him and pulling him down.

 

A pair of giant boulders crashed to the ground, sealing the crack where the bounty hunter had escaped.

 

“There’s no way out!”

 

A shadow appeared above them. At first, they thought it was a boulder hurtling down to crush them.

 

When they looked up, they smiled.

 

The Lone Eagle was hovering over them, the ramp open and extended towards them. Sorgal was waving at them, gesturing to jump to the ramp.

 

“Go!” Targon shouted. “Now! Please! I can’t ask anyone to come with me.”

 

“You didn’t,” Xana shook her head.

 

Targon sighed. “I can’t let you. I need you to go. On Carrick Station I told you there was only one thing that brought me back. One thing worth living for.”

 

Xana frowned. “What was it?”

 

Targon was running for the gate. The vortex was starting to dissipate and weaken. Soon it would disappear altogether.

 

He stopped and turned to her.

 

“You.”

 

And with that, he jumped through as it closed. A massive boulder fell and crushed the ring into dust soon after.

 

Xana had no choice but to leap for the ship.

 

---

 

“My lord? Are you well?”

 

“Succuba?” Viruul groaned. “Where am I?”

 

“We’re in the cargo hold of a freighter. It was all that Admiral Gerald could do to get us off Dromund Kaas.”

 

“What? Fuhron…”

 

“He has proclaimed you dead, but has ordered agents to make sure you’re dealt with. For now, your place in the Empire is lost.”

 

Viruul spat in the dark. “Then I’ll have to take it back.”

 

Conclusion of Episod Twenty-One

[RulithBarakis]

OOOOHHHH dang. I'm pretty certain, with that ending, there's going to be an awesome, pants wetting-worthy conflict in this story's future. Viruul is not the kind of guy you want to make into your enemy, lol

 

And Urxes? LOL, that moment at the end was so like him. And did I mention that the sudden reappearance of Arachne and her subsequent, although short-lived, brawl with Urxes in the sand was pretty cool as well? Not to mention that her apparent vampirism is kinda awesome.

 

Loved Draakis' dry humor. Cracked me up once or twice, actually.

 

XD, I wonder what would've happened if Tygus had seen Urxes. They REALLY do not seem to like eachother, from the Episodes of the past.

 

Anyways, eager to see what the next Episode shall bring.

Edited July 12, 2012 by RulithBarakis

[TargonKarashi]

Episode Twenty-Two – Into the Void

 

Chapter One

 

The lounge was a mess – the air was a thick haze. Devices, weapons, and trophies littered the ground. There was a bar counter, filthy and covered in junk, off to one side of the room.

 

A couch was in the middle of the room, ravaged and battered like a plaything. It pointed towards a large viewscreen that hung on the wall. The picture was plagued with occasional static, but that went unnoticed.

 

Stretched on the couch, a Mandalorian woman watched the screen with half-hearted interest. More of her attention was on the blaster pistol in her hands. She loaded it, armed it, and then took it apart again.

 

At the edge of the couch, another Mandalorian was focused on cleaning his armor. The dull red was starting to show through the dirt and grime that covered it. Several times, however, the man had to stop cleaning to wipe his brow of sweat.

 

The room was sweltering.

 

A loud hiss and fizz came from the bar. The bottle of Corellian beer bubbled and leaked from the lid, but the one-eyed Mandalorian opening it took no mind.

 

He took a large swig and then leaned against the counter, chuckling at the other two.

 

“Is that stuff really all that interesting?” he asked.

 

“What?” the woman shrugged. “The screen?”

 

“No, Merani, your gun. And Reev’s armor. Haven’t you both toyed around with those enough?”

 

“What do you care, Ravat?” the other man snorted. “Just because you don’t take care of your equipment…”

 

“I take damn good care of it, thank you,” Ravat hissed. “I wear the scuffs and scars on my armor the same way I do with those on my face. With pride – pride at the glorious battles I’ve fought and the foes I’ve killed.”

 

“Maybe we like ours to look nice,” Merani sighed.

 

“What? Hide the marks of battle?”

 

“Neither of us really care for your opinion,” Reev growled.

 

Ravat took another long drink from the bottle. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

“You should. You might live longer.”

 

“That a threat?”

 

Ravat laughed. “What’s on, anyway?”

 

Merani snorted. “Sith propaganda. What else does the Empire play these days?”

 

“What? No Huttball?”

 

“No,” Reev turned to him. “Sorry, but games don’t matter much when the Empire and Republic are at war with each other.”

 

Ravat sighed and took another drink. “What do they expect us to do in our free time? Rough up farmers and ranchers for entertainment?”

 

“Seeing as that’s your fifth bottle this evening,” Merani sat up, “I guess you found something to divert yourself with.”

 

Ravat belched. “It doesn’t work as well as it used to. I suppose my body is too used to it. Too bad we don’t have any stronger stuff.”

 

“You mean illegal stuff?” Reev frowned.

 

“I’m sorry,” Ravat put down his bottle. “When did you start caring about laws?”

 

“Since I got out of those spice mines on Kessel,” Reev answered.

 

Ravat laughed so hard he nearly slipped from the counter. “If you were a real warrior, pup, you wouldn’t have been caught and sent there in the first place.”

 

The door creaked open and loud boot steps entered the lounge.

 

“Quit giving them a hard time, Ravat,” a powerful voice said.

 

Ravat, Merani, and Reev were simultaneously on their feet and saluting.

 

“Warmaster!” Merani gasped. “We weren’t expecting you back so soon.”

 

“Obviously,” the commander nodded, regarding the room.

 

Rasil Stark was of an average build. He wasn’t hulking or huge like most Mandalorians were thought to be.

 

He was no less a commanding presence, though.

 

His armor was heavy and thick. Polished white with gold lining. A black cape hung from his shoulders, tattered and frayed at the edges. The helmet in his hand was bright and custom – a wolf crest adorned the top and ran along the back.

 

He had hair cropped short, and a Mandalorian poem was tattooed on his neck. His face was expressionless, completely stoic and calm. His eyebrows were near flat line, his lips were pressed together, and his jaw was clenched ever so slightly.

 

His eyes were dull blue, almost glazed and uncaring. Yet there was the tiniest of sparks within them that brought life to his face. That bit of life was all the emotion he ever expressed.

 

It was enough, though. All three of the others could sense his displeasure.

 

“Is this how my warriors act when their commander is not around?” he asked. “Lounging around like lazy hounds?”

 

“Not at all, Warmaster,” Reev replied. “I was cleaning my armor, and Merani was fielding her blaster. We are prepared for any assignment, sir.”

 

Stark nodded at him. “I see. And what of you, Ravat? Taunting and heckling them in their duties?”

 

“No, Warmaster,” Ravat picked up his bottle. “Testing their spirits, sir, while I prepare myself for battle.”

 

“You prepare by drinking?” Merani scoffed.

 

“Don’t talk down to me like that,” Ravat snarled. “I’ve been the Warmaster’s right hand long before you became Algayne’s kath hound. Stark knows my drinking is what clears my head for a job.”

 

“Shut up,” Stark snapped. “Both of you!”

 

Everyone was silent.

 

The Warmaster nodded. “That’s better. Now, if the three of you are done relaxing…or preparing, if you like…we’ll be heading out at dawn.”

 

“Heading where, sir?” Reev asked.

 

“I’ve just been to visit with Lord Fuhron. He has tasked us with a special mop up of the former Dark Lord Viruul.”

 

“What?” Ravat scoffed. “Isn’t that Imperial Intelligence work? We’re fighters, not sweepers.”

 

“The job revolves around a certain smuggling vessel that Viruul was focused on, and spent quite a few resources trying to capture.”

 

Stark held out a datapad that held a hologram of the ship and its information.

 

“The Lone Eagle,” Merani spat. “That crew killed Algayne.”

 

“Among others,” Stark nodded. “Fuhron cares nothing for the ship, but the amount of trouble it has caused the Empire must be erased along with Viruul’s failure. You three are to find the ship and destroy it.”

 

“Just us three?” Ravat frowned. “If they killed Algayne’s whole band of merry men…and gave the Imperial fleet a nasty chase…”

 

“Is it too much for the great and mighty warrior?” Reev sneered.

 

Stark pulled out a blaster from a holster at his side and fired it into the ceiling. “I grow sick of your antics. The three of you are my finest warriors, but you are also the three most insufferable jesters. You think I’m here to be amused? I’m here to give you a task – and you will fulfill it or I will have all three of you mounted on my wall.”

 

“Our apologies, Warmaster,” Reev bowed. “We will not insult you again with our…antics.”

 

“Good,” Stark folded his arms. “Get to it.”

 

Merani and Reev went to the door. Ravat rushed to finish his bottle and break away from the counter. Then he reluctantly followed, but he stopped when he stood next to Stark.

 

“I’ve never doubted your orders before, Warmaster,” he whispered. “But why are we doing the bidding of this Fuhron? We serve Mandalore, not this Sith.”

 

Stark grabbed Ravat’s shoulder. “You’ve never doubted me, so don’t start now.”

 

“Yes, but…”

 

“Fuhron is in control now,” Stark stated. “He is the Empire now. His words are the Emperor’s. He can command the Moffs and even Mandalore himself.”

 

“Are we to just bow to this man?” Ravat snarled.

 

“For now,” Stark nodded. “He treats his allies well. If we obey his will, while other strain against it, then the power of the Empire will be ours as well.”

 

“You think he’ll be getting rid of more people?”

 

“Countless more,” Star replied. “He’s preparing Dark Council seats for his comrades, moff and command positions for his lackeys, and he’ll make his greatest warrior ally the new Mandalore. One that will work with him for glory, instead of coin.”

 

“He’ll overthrow Mandalore?” Ravat’s eyes widened.

 

“In time, but don’t worry about that now. Keep those two in line and get the job done. I don’t trust those two – one’s the former servant of a rogue and the other was a hired gun only weeks ago. You’re the only one I trust, Ravat. Remember that.”

 

“It will be as you say, Warmaster,” Ravat saluted and left through the door.

 

When he was gone, Stark took a seat on the arm of the couch and watched the screen. There was nothing worth watching so he shut it off.

 

“Fuhron had better stick to his word,” he muttered to himself. “I’ve put a lot on the line for him. He is the Empire now, after all. No one is going to stop him…so I damn well better be making the right choice by siding with him. He will find, however, that anyone that crosses me will find themselves praying they had never left the gutter that they started from. If he tries to get rid of me, I'll take him down with me.”

 

Then he sighed and left, taking a bottle of beer with him.