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| - EN-ROUTE BACK TO RTSE SPACE - HYPERTRANSIT ELAPSED TIME 7,5 HOURS In the Bekrija's senior officers' lounge... Deathstrike, having rested for the past six hours, after spending an hour and a half in the ship's medical center, once again dressed in her customary leather outfit, and armed with her lightsaber and a pair of assassin knives, walked into the lounge, to find her Master standing at the viewport, gazing out at the mottled sky of hyperspace. Stepping forward to the center of the lounge, she dropped to one knee, and waited. "Have you fully recovered from your ordeal?" - Lord Darkon asked, not turning around. "Yes, my Master. I am once more to my full combat capability." - she replied, keeping her tone neutrally dispassionate. Lord Darkon turned around, and nodded for her to rise, before continuing: "Your mercenary acquaintance had already began his re-conditioning regimen. Thus far, he appears determined to prove his worth, and justify your recommendation on his behalf." "I had no doubt he would." - Deathstrike replied, with a slight smile. Darkon studied her for a moment, before he spoke again: "I must admit, I am somewhat surprised at the level of confidence you place in him. In fact going so far as to put your judgement on the line by supporting him to me? Why is that?" Deathstrike shrugged slightly. "Like I said... I respect him. Or at least what he was a year ago. Although... let's just say I also sympathize with him on some level - given my own recent... setbacks." - she paused, before continuing: "The way the Recluse took me so easily, without a fight... and..." - at this she stopped, belatedly realizing that telling her Master how a simple assassin had managed to overpower her would severely impact her standing with him... but too late. "And?" - Darkon prompted in a commanding tone, his eyes boring into hers. Taking a deep breath, she whispered it out: "And that a Noghri-trained assassin had managed to... subdue... me in mortal combat." Lord Darkon's face twisted into an intense scowl of disapproval, as he ground out just one word: "WHAT?!" - stepping close to her in a pair of rapid steps. Deathstrike forced herself to meet her Master's gaze, as she began: "He was formidable, Master... the level of control in his movement, the integrity of his form... I hace tried my best--" - before Darkon cut her off: "No excuses. No True Sith, LEAST of all my chosen apprentice, has a home for excuses, for they are a sign of weakness." - in a durasteel-hard voice, before suddenly striking her hard across the face, in a simple, yet blindingly fast, back-fist, sending her reeling to the deck, some blood flowing from the corner of her mouth, the skin on her left cheek split slightly. "No... no excuses, my Master." - she replied quietly, getting back up and once again standing at attention. "It is now clear to me that your skills have indeed faltered, despite your claim to the contrary. I will begin with your Tier 9 training as soon as late today, after we reestablish what you know of Tier 8. Three months ago, you had mastered it. Now, after telling me of this... debacle... on your part, I am no longer certain of that." - Darkon stated with finality. "Master, I can assure you--" - she began to retort, but was cut off: "I do not need your assurances. Words are nothing in battle! Your performance in our match will demonstrate your prowess. A Noghri-trained assassin would have been a formidable challenge, I agree - but no more than you should have been able to deal with, being a Tier 8 Teras Kasi Expert!" "I understand, Master. I look forward to demonstrating my prowess!" - she replied with an eager nod. "Better! And so you will, in an hour. After I bring you up to date on the current state of affairs with the RTSE." With that, Lord Darkon activated the holographic galaxy map in the center of the lounge, and began the briefing, telling her about the new alliance the RTSE had formed with the Ekatra Sentinel, the re-emergence of the Gatekeeper and his Shadow Empire, and lastly, about the covert mission Fleet Admiral Rajko had been dispatched on - the one she will also be attached to. Deathstrike listened without interruption, until her Master was finished, before she spoke: "And I was convinced we had seen the last of the Gatekeeper... looks like the stakes are now considerably higher than merely overpowering the Jedi and the New Republic." "Indeed. The balance of power has been altered, but our alliance with the ES will act as an effectve mitigator of that shift. They will be the ones doing the majority of fighting with the SE." - Darkon replied. "Even if I'm still not sure this Remus Von Grath's motivations can be trusted..." - Deathstrike muttered, almost to herself. "Nor am I... however, for the moment, we are on the same side, facing a common enemy." - Lord Darkon said, before adding: "Now to the specifics of your mission with the Fleet Admiral, while in SE space. You will be there only as a covert strike force, and are not, under ANY circumstances, to engage the SE forces in open conflict, unless you can do so without tipping the RTSE's hand in it. You will be coordinating with ES forces while there, and Rajko will be the one in charge of all the strategic aspects of the operation, You are to follow his orders, just as you would follow mine. Am I clear?" At this, Deathstrike felt her lip twist, as she thought: "Ah, PERFECT! Follow the orders of that ponderous stuck-up tin man... I can't STAND him! Putting him in charge of a covert operation of any sort is like expecting a Gamorrean to be subtle!" - before speaking aloud: "Master, perhaps it would be wiser to assign a more covert-ops savvy individual in command of such an endeavour. Intelligence Director Jenzer, for one... or even--" - before Darkon cut her off: "ENOUGH! You are transparent to me. I know of your disagreements with the Fleet Admiral, for I had already had a very similar discussion with him on this very subject, once I have informed him that you will be attached to the operation. Trust me, he was no more pleased with it than you are now... and I will tell you what I told him: I do not care about your petty disagreements and childish squabbles. You two will work together, and be efficient and effective while doing it! Is that understood?" "Yes, Master." - Deathstrike replied with a sigh. Smiling slightly, Lord Darkon added: "The reason I'm placing the two of you together on this mission, is a simple matter of efficiency. He is our finest strategic mind, and field tactician, and you are unparalelled when it comes to actually executing the covert missions from a practical standpoint, as a field agent. You will complement each other perfectly. So, once more - you may offer suggestions, voice criticism, or even challenge his decisions, so long as they are not official. But once he gives you an explicit order, you will obey it, no matter what you think about it." "And if his orders are not tactically sound?" - she asked bluntly, scowling. "If I thought for one moment his orders could ever be tactically unsound, I would not have made him a Fleet Admiral of the RTSE!" - Lord Darkon replied, in a tone that made it abundantly clear the discussion was over. "Understood, Master." - Deathstrike replied, with a slight bow. "And now... the time has come to review your prowess, my apprentice! Follow me." - Lord Darkon said, leading the way out of the lounge, on his way to one of the ship's gymnasiums." "At last! No more talk! I shall prove to my Master that I still have it..." - Deathstrike thought, that manic emerald gleam in her eyes, as she followed. Ten minutes later, the two made their way to the gymnasium, and an Acolyte attendant there. "Lower the ysalamiri harnesses. This match shall be without the use of the Force." - Lord Darkon commanded to him. "Yes, my Lord." - the Acolyte replied, pressing a button on a console next to him. Then, they entered the chamber, in time to see the four hardstands, each with an ysalamir tethered to them, lowering into position, where they could block off the Force to the entire chamber. Deathstrike remained close to one of the walls, her eyes literally burning with lust for battle, while Lord Darkon stepped directly into the center of the chamber, and closed his eyes, standing perfectly still. Finally, he spoke just one word, in a soft voice: "Begin." He did not need to tell twice. Deathstrike approached at a run, before launching herself in the air, pivoting and sweeping out with a dual scissor-kick, aimed at the back of Darkon's neck, and his spinal column. He did not move until the instant she was off the ground. Then, he suddenly took a rapid step to the side, before spinning and planting a hammer-kick at Deathstrike's ribs just as her momentum took her past. Before she even had time to grunt in pain, he spun and sent a snap-kick to her temple, which she ducked, before reciprocating with a hammer-kick to his left knee. Darkon trapped her foot between his knees, then twisted hard, using his legs. She pivoted with the motion, adding power to the intended spin-kick to his jaw, which connected hard this time, snapping his head sideways slightly, drawing some blood and making him see a few stars, as he had to release the knee-grip on her foot to maintain balance. Deathstrike immediately pressed through the advantage, lashing out with a lightning-fast one-two-three combo of palm strikes. Instead of parrying and deflecting them, his response took her by surprise, as he simply stepped back in a flash, the first strike sweeping through empty air, at the same time as his right foot lashed out to catch her across the wrist during her second attack, momentarily numbing it with dull pain, and a yelp from her. In the same motion, he traversed in midair to the other foot, before she could regain her form, and planted a powerful hinge-palm chop to the side of her neck as he was coming out of the traverse. Deathstrike went sprawling on the stomach to the metal floor, nearly knocked unconscious, as Darkon followed through with a finishing move... a downward heel-chop kick at her spine. She spun to her back, focusing past the black haze in her head, using both arms to block the lethal attack, before kicking out, and catching Darkon in the crotch, immediately following through with a heel-kick to his throat, as he briefly staggered. Instinctively twisting to the right, and using his left arm to deflect the heel-kick... barely in time, Darkon pivoted in place even as Deathstrike was in the process of hopping back to her feet, coming to standing position just in time for his own heel-kick to connect with her solar plexus. "Nnnh..." - Deathstrike grunted, considerable agony evident on her face, despite her mostly resisting the debilitating strike. However, Darkon nodded in clear satisfaction at her performance. "Well done, my apprentice. You have proven your mastery of Tier 8 adequately... and I must admit, your last attempt at my throat almost took me by surprise! You have demonstrated that you CAN focus past your urge to attack, in favour of more deliberate action, when is required. That demonstrates your mastery over your instincts, instead of the other way around. You are ready to be introduced to Tier 9." - he said, while relishing the latent pain in his crotch, as well as tasting the trickling blood from the side of his jaw. "Ahh...yes, my Master! I said I would... not fail here!" - she ground out, still slightly dazed, and feeling considerable pain in and below her chest. "Yet..." - Darkon continued suddenly... "I have also come to realize why had the Noghri-trained assassin managed to overpower you." "Why, Master?" "You do not yet have the balance between instinct and deliberation. You have learned to focus past instinct when necessary, but at the expense of instinct itself. And THAT is not good. You fail to anticipate your opponent enough when in that compromised state. In short, I was mistaken... you CAN be ice, as well as fire... but not both at the same time! And that is your weakness. That is what is holding you back." "But Master, how can I--" - she began, before he smoothly cut her off. "Close your eyes. Empty your mind of everything... let go of everything you are... even instinct itself. Enter a deep trance, and become completely... empty." - as he sat cross-legged to the floor in front of her. Deathstrike followed suit. As hours passed, the two of them sat there, completely silent, motionless. To anyone observing them, they might as well have been statues. Finally, Lord Darkon's eyes opened... ...yet they seemend completely blank, like pieces of glass imbedded in the skull. A moment later, Deathstrike followed suit, her emerald eyes no longer sparkling, but seemingly as inanimate as her Master's. "Can you perceive me?" - his mind communicated to hers, but not via a Force message, since the Force was still suppressed by the ysalamiri. "I can. How is this possible, without the Force?!" - she replied the same way. "No questions... feel this moment. Feel the harmony your mind had achieved. The mind has power that even the Force itself cannot touch." - he answered. For another few minutes, there was no conversation, before Darkon added: In the course of another hour, they both slowly returned from the trance. Once out of it again, Deathstrike spoke in a reverent tone: "Master... this is incredible." "You feel it, don't you?" - Lord Darkon asked. "Yes. It is as if I can observe my own urges from a dispassionate perspective, while still acting and relying upon them, or resisting them, at will, and with no interruption..." - she breathed. "Indeed. You have achieved the balance, and the Harmony of Purpose, the perfect balance between instinct and thought, fire and ice... the Tier 9 state of mind. Even if it had taken hours, you do have the potential within yourself. With time, and practice, you shall be able to achieve this state at will, in a period of only seconds." - Darkon replied with a nod, before adding: "Now, attack me again." Their next match was as much a poetry of movement as a fight, as their blurred actions never lost their invisible rhythm, even for an instant. Each one was efficient, each one was lethal, each one was countered with exquisite perfection, by either side. In ways that seemingly defied the laws of physics, both of them leaped, rolled, tumbled and spun across the chamber for almost the next entire hour. In the end, both of them were bleeding, battered and bruised in numerous places, Deathstrike's face literally covered in blood, nose broken, and a sprained ankle from a leverage twist, while Darkon's left arm was dislocated at the wrist, two ribs on his left side cracked. Neither of them noticed. Neither of them cared. Neither of them breathed hard. Once again, they stood motionless, facing one-another. "Glory of pain..." - Deathstrike hissed in an ecstatic whisper. "In the heart of battle..." - Lord Darkon replied, his own voice a joyous growl, as he added just one sentence into the intercom: "Retract the ysalamiri!" "At once, my Lord!" - the Acolyte outside replied, pressing a button, while thinking: "I have never even IMAGINED something like this was possible! They are... they are both invincible!" - having watched all along via the camera in the gymnasium. Force Heal - Darkon applied, healing his injuries. Drain Life - Deathstrike applied on Darkon, healing hers, while his active Force Heal prevented the drain from being lethal. "I see no reason to stop, my apprentice. Do you?" - Darkon growled ferally, still hungry for battle, as he activated his lightsaber and adopted a combat stance, while adding through the Force: "Now, you will show me how will you apply what you have learned in a lightsaber duel, with the Force!" "NO REASON TO STOP!!!" - she screamed in delight, as they both once again went at it, transforming the gymnasium into a crimson-hued lightshow. It went on for another half an hour, before their mutual desire for battle was at last satisfied. After once again regenerating the injuried sustained, Lord Darkon spoke, his voice once again glacially calm. "You have acquitted yourself well, my apprentice. And I have opened your eyes to Tier 9. In time, you will be able to achieve this state yourself, without my guidance." "Thank you, my Master... now I realize how... limited... my earlier form is. I shall do my best to master this as soon as possible." - she replied, but Lord Darkon shook his head. "Do not rush... patience is a virtue. You will learn, in time." "Yes, Master." - as they both walked back out of gymnasium. FIVE DAYS LATER, AT MYTUS SHIPYARDS The RTSE Bekrija, after being refitted with the holomasking array, now under Deathstrike's command, as Lord Darkon had returned to the Blood Sanctum, and the NR front, had just entered hyperspace, en-route to meet up with Fleet Admiral Rajko's group already well on the way to the Mudara galaxy. With the Karas class warship's Class 1 hyperdrive, the captain expected they would catch up with the slower Kurgarins and Munjas of the strike force within two standard days. By his own request, Ty Havox had come along, hoping to receive more training, while further conditioning himself on the mission. Initially, Lord Darkon was skeptical, but Deathstrike had managed to convince her master to accept Ty's request. Currently, the two of them were talking in one of the ship's lounges, Ty filling Deathstrike in on the progress of his reconditioning... "So, why did you really insist on joining this mission, Ty? Not that I don't admire the confidence, but five days ago, you were a wreck! Honestly, I wouldn't be comfortable taking on a mission like this unless I am in the best possible shape for it..." - she asked, sipping on her usual choice of beverage, Forvish Ale. "It won't take long for me to be back to top form. Whatever physical toll the last few months may have taken on me was nothing compared to the mental toll, and the latter is no longer a problem. Besides, I know a bit about the Shadow Empire, having worked for them before. Plus I have a little score to settle with them for cutting my contract after Akates." the former merc replied. "You know this is not about settling scores, Ty. Once we're there, we'll have to be fully professional. Personally..." - she lowered her voice - "... I would like nothing better then to take the fight to the Gatekeeper again this instant! But this is essentially an infiltration mission, and the Master had made it very clear that we are not to tip the RTSE's hand in it. The Ekatra will be keeping him busy, while we just take potshots where we can - subtly!" - before muttering to herself sarcastically: "Let's just hope that word is in our fearless Fleet Admiral Rajko's vocabulary..." - practically grounding out the name. "Are we going to try to assume the identity of pirates or rogues then?" Ty inquired, deciding to avoid questioning Deathstrike's shot at Rajko, "And I'm curious how craft of obvious True Sith design are going to go about sneaking around in SE space." Deathstrike smiled insidiously at that: "Well, why do you think the Bekrija had spent a full day at Mytus, getting all those holoemitter arrays mounted on the hull, and a matrix? With that technology, we can assume the holo-illusion of any ship we choose! All the other 64 ships in the strike force are equipped with it as well. With a covert tool as potent as that at our disposal, perhaps even Rajko will demonstrate a marginal level of skill in covert-ops. Of course, that won't stop me from giving him a few pointers... when we catch up with the rest of the force in..." - pulling out her commlink: "Captain Bakov, how long until we are in subspace range of Rajko's force?" "Approximately 2 days, milady. We are gaining on them steadily, due to this ship's superior hyperdrive profile." - came the military-precise reply. Closing the link, Deathstrike added to Ty: "But I agree. Even with the illusion, we'll have to assume an inconspicuous identity when communicating with SE forces." "It won't be easy; the SE relies on numbers, and even their smallest units are still sizable. Finding targets lightly escorted enough for us to be able to hit will be difficult." Ty observed. "Perhaps... but that's also all they have going for them, if the last time we fought them is any indication. They're tactically blind and stupid, and only rely on numbers to gain an edge." - she replied, while thinking: "Besides... with the Ekatra diverting their attention, and occupying most of the SE forces, we shall have a perfect diversion to operate with a high level of impunity." - she added. "Indeed. The Gatekeeper's only strategy is to throw as many ships into the battle as possible and hope he comes out on top." Ty responded, then questioned: "What are our main targets? Military or economic assets? Or just whatever we can get at?" "Well from what the Master's agreement with this Von Grath was, military and economic targets would of course be preferable... but ultimately, we will be the ones on the scene there, and it shall be up to us to decide where and when to strike." - Deathstrike replied, before finishing the rest of her ale in a single gulp, and changing the subject: "How's your training progressing, Ty? From the rumours I have been hearing around the ship, the Acolytes think you are showing some promise. I hope they have been making you suffer!" - with a grin. Ty chuckled. "They've been mostly successful. But all-in-all it's been moving along well." "Let's find out..." - she hissed, again pulling her commlink and hailing the ship's assigned training master, essentially a more seasoned Acolyte who had shown the most promise, and was appointed the instructor of the new initiates. "Keirn, this is Deathstrike." - she spoke. An annoyed grunt came from the other end, before the Acolyte spoke: "Calling to gloat, are you... Lady? Okay, I admit it - you've won the bet. I didn't think that bloated merc had it in him!" Deathstrike grinned to herself, before replying: "Which tier?" "Last evening training session, he took down a Tier 2 Learner... not bad after only five days!" - Keirn replied, obviously stalling... "Which. Tier." - Deathstrike repeated, more emphasis on each word. "I'd say he's just getting to know Tier 3 right now... still a bit shaky, but he is definitely a cut above our Initiates, and some Learners. No match for me or the rest of us mid-tier Adepts, though." "Not yet, Keirn... not yet. Give him a month or so... faster if I show him a few tricks I haven't shown anyone else. Anyway, you owe me 500 credits!" - Deathstrike answered, closing the link, and turning back to Ty, as the last echoes of Keirn's indignant reply came: "...not fair!" "So the rumors are true, are they... you've mastered the basics. I take it you can already easily tell the difference it makes, when you actually KNOW what you're doing in an unarmed fight?" - she asked. "I wish I would've learned something like this years ago." Ty admitted. "Tier 3... well, I think he... could... handle what I have in mind for now..." - Deathstrike thought, before stating: "Anyway... it you're up to some more suffering then those Acolytes can give you, let's pay a visit to the gymnasium. I won't lie... you'll probably have to spend some time in the medical bay afterwards, but you'll learn something that'll give you an edge in further training." - already on her feet. "Alright." Ty said, a touch of nervousness in his voice, but also eagarness at a challenge. Minutes later, they had arrived at a vacant gymnasium. Once there, Ty had demonstrated the Tier 3 form he had learned. A standard half-crouch stance, weight balance slightly on the back foot, overally body muscle tension level moderate, a typical balance between reaction speed and endurance of incoming blows, favoured by beginners who are not yet very skilled at anticipation. "No surprise there... gold standard for Tier 3." - Deathstrike thought, adopting her own stance, which, to Ty's eye, seemed almost identical to his own. Which it only appeared on the surface... "Attack!" - she suddenly snapped, with a hand motion. Ty did so, lashing out with his right leg in a snap-kick at her temple - at least the intention. However, the way he shifted his stance before even beginning the attack, and the over-forceful attack itself, relying more on strength, than actually "snapping out", robbed the attack of speed, and gave Deathstrike clear advance warning, making it very easy for her to effortlessly anticipate and duck almost before it began. "Wrong." - she intoned, before straightening and making her own snap-kick - the only part of her body that actually moved was the leg itself, with no shift in stance, and no delay. Before Ty could even see it, the tip of her boot connected with his jaw, with moderate force, but still hard enough to send him to the floor, and make him see a few stars. "Could you see the difference?" - she asked, as Ty was getting back to his feet. "Too much power, not enough speed on my part." he muttered in response. "Yes, but what was the cause of that? Do it again, and I'll show you... I won't anticipate this time." - she replied. Ty kicked again... and in mid-motion, just as his shift in stance was once again showing, she trapped his outstretched leg and pointed: "Look... before you even strike, your body language gives away your intention. Your other foot shifts forward, and you bend forward to keep balance, before you attack - a dead giveaway. Now - look at the angle of your knee - it's bent, not straight. That will diminish the kick's power upon contact, and possibly even give your opponent a chance to apply leverage, since it is not tense. Or many other things, some of which easily lethal. Like I can do now..." - she hissed, before sharply twisting his foot - not sharply enough to dislocate the knee or the ankle, but throwing him off-balance, and once again sending him to the deck. As he was once again getting back up, massaging his slightly tender knee, she continued: "The reason you feel the need to shift your stance, and balance, is because you 'force' the attack! You 'swing' your leg out, instead of 'snapping' it out. That is why Teras Kasi is so potent - it does not rely on brute strength, but on efficiency." "I see." Ty said as he resumed ready position again. He paused for a moment, going over what she had said in his head, before attempting it again, this time with the other leg, hoping to perhaps gain a slight eliment of surprise. Although still not perfect, the attack was better carried-out than before... This time, Ty tried to keep his stance constant, before kicking. Although not entirely successful, his shift in stance was about half as before, and he managed to keep his knee mostly straight, as it connected with the back of Deathstrike's left hand, as she blocked the kick, still quite easily. However, the tension he applied while kicking this time, had thrown him off-balance at the kick's apex, and he had to stumble forward to regain it. As he did so, Deathstrike sidestepped, and tripped him. To his credit, he managed to stay on his feet despite the trip, only stumbling another pair of steps, before regaining the balance. "That was improvement, at least as far as the kick's effectiveness goes, Ty. But you overtensed your leg to keep it firm, resulting in a loss of overall balance." - she stated, briefly rubbing her hand, before adding: "There is a better way to insure your kick has the required firmness, without actually tensing your leg. Watch." She once again snap-kicked at Ty, but this time doing it at 1/3 her standard speed, giving him a chance to see the move in detail. In the first half od the kick, her knee remained bent, before suddenly straightening up, just as the kick connected - with Ty's own back-arm, having been given ample time to anticipate it. Despite the relative slowness of it, the kick was surprisingly powerful, with the added momentum of straightening the knee applied, in addition to the momentum of the kick itself. Just as fluidly, her leg retracted back, with the balance remaining rock-steady throughout the entire move. "Do you see? Not only did my straightening of knee keep my balance, it also added more power to the kick, by adding its momentum to the starting one! If this was at full speed, I would have broken your jaw, and likely blasted out a few teeth." "Makes sense." Ty observed. Again the former merc attempted the kick, this time back with the same leg as he started with. He was appeared rather clumsy, but managed to pull it off... mostly. "That was technically correct, Ty... unrefined, but technically correct. Keep practicing, and training your legs to become more flexible, and remember two things. Don't force the attack, and don't overtense your leg while doing it." - Deathstrike said, before adding: "Now, let's try something more basic, which you'll probably be more at home with right now... punching. And I don't mean standard punching, which, to me, is as inefficient as it can be imagined. Not to mention exhausting." "Punch me! Any way you want, anyhwere you want. If you can..." - she hissed. Ty decided to forego the using any of the more advanced methods he had been taught, at least right away. First he was curious how Deathstrike would have handled a more traditional blow, like what he would have used a year ago... He started with a right hook aimed toward her face, which was intended to force her to duck down, as Ty already was already in the process of bringing in an upper-cut in from below with his left. However, the old street-fighting style backfired this time, as Deathstrike didn't do what he expected, or what would be the standard response - to duck. Instead, she pulled slightly back, while stiffening the fingers of her right hand, and stabbing them into the nerve point at the inside of the elbow of his hand, as it was still sweeping in to punch. The nerve-punch instantly paralyzed that arm from the elbow down, temporarily numbing it, as it fell limply to Ty's side. The follow-up uppercut was easily deflected to the side by her other hand, before she reciprocated, half-crouching and throwing a piercing direct-punch to his gut, literally snapping her arm out, instead of 'driving' it out, as it would be in a standard direct. Ty doubled over, falling to his knees and gasping for breath. "That was foolish - especially the right hook you started with. It left you literally wide-open, and I didn't even have to counter it. I could have simply applied an upper palm compression-strike to your nose, driving it into your brain! If this was a true fight, you would be dead now. NEVER leave yourself exposed like that, if you have any other option! Keep your punches as economical and precise as possible, especially when dealing with an opponent who knows how to take advantage of a slip on your part. Sometimes, the simple solution is actually the best one." "Heh... I knew it wasn't going to work. I just wanted to see how it would've turned out had I tried it a year ago." Ty muttered between gasps. "Good thing you did not..." - she smiled at that, when Ty was back up again. "Now... here is what it should have been like." - she added, before exploding into action with an one-two-three combo: Once again with no noticable shift in stance, which would have given Ty advance warning, her right fist, held perfectly paralell to the body until that point, snapped out in a simple yet efficient direct, to connect with his nose, not quite hard enough to break it, but to make a slight fracture only. Ty staggered back, hardly even having time to see it, before the second strike - a hard and fast open-palm uppercut - drove in under his chin, snapping his head back. Finally, she pivoted, finishing the combo with an elbow-strike to the side of his neck - carefully measured so that it didn't knock him out, but only stunned him, as he staggered to lean hard against the wall, dazed, some blood pouring from his nose. "Notice how once again I didn't shift my stance before attacking? Also because I didn't force the initial attack, like you did, Ty. This is critical! It has three advantages compared to your method: increasing the speed, and efficiency of the attack, not giving the opponent any advance warning, and not exhausting you, since you don't use brute strength to launch it. Likewise with the second one, which also benefitted from being an open-palm blow, which is considerably faster to perform than a closed fist in an uppercut. Finally, the last elbow strike was relatively plain, and something I would never have used as an opening move, since it can easily be anticipated, and leaves one rather open. But as a finishing move to a combo, it worked well enough." - she stated. "Try it again - you don't need to emulate me, just try to keep in mind what I said about not forcing it, not opening yourself up, and not shifting stance during the opening attack. Those three truisms apply, one way or another, to every form of attack in Teras Kasi, in fact. Make the punches as quick and efficient as possible, and don't worry about their power - the power will come with speed!" - she added, waiting for Ty to recover. As he wiped some blood from his nose, the merc couldn't help but think: After shaking off the effects, he wordless got back to ready stance, again trying to take in everything she had just said. Briefly sensing some of Ty's surface thoughts, unintentionally, Deathstrike thought, with a slight smile: "I never had much use for easy, merc..." - before Ty attacked. This time, the mercenary had taken Deathstrike's admonitions seriously. He began with a hard direct at her stomach, still more 'driven' than 'snapped', but reasonably fast and efficient, which she wasn't completely successful at anticipating, and the blow grazed her left-side ribs, making her vince slightly. Then he followed with an imitation of Deathstrike's open-palm uppercut, which she did evade, but not by much, and trapped his arm while doing it. Refusing to be caught by surprise, however, Ty improvised, applying sheer muscle to rip out his arm before she could twist it in leverage, his higher brute strength making it possible, before he head-butted her in the chin, drawingf some blood. "YESSS!" - she hissed in delight at the pain, as he tried to add another attack - a formerly trained snap-kick, counting on the assumption that she would be dazed by the head butt. While that assumption was incorrect, and Deathstrike ducked the snap-kick before sweeping him off his feet with a low-sweep kick as she did so, this combination had proven much more effective. "NOW... you are beginning to see my point, don't you, Ty?" - she asked, licking the seeping blood from her mouth. The former merc didn't verbally respond, but rather nodded in acknowledgement as he got back to his feet again. They continued sparring for the next few minutes, with Ty demonstrating that he had began to pick up what Deathstrike was trying to make him realize - that power in Teras Kasi does not come from brute force - before a more serious injury occurred, with Ty's right shoulder sprained and near-dislocated after a rather nasty leverage hold Deathstrike applied on the his right arm. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to cause that much damage! I suppose I got a little carried away..." - Deathstrike apologized, realizing she had pushed the bar too high for a first time. Ty tried not to show any outward sign of pain, but at the same time he was weighing in his head what to do next. She could press him to try and fight through it, but without the use of his arm it would be an unnecessary risk for more injury. "You were right about needing the med-bay." he stated simply. Deathstrike shook her head quickly, slightly embarrassed. "No, don't worry - it was my fault! I allowed myself to slip into my instinct a little too much... whenever I fight, even in a training session, I always have that urge." - taking a deep breath, then letting it out slowly, as she reflected: "Anyway, I think we should conclude for today, Ty... you've learned well! And it will certainly aid you in training - the techniques I've shown are not usually taught until the student is at least Tier 5 - most of the Acolytes are not very familiar with them." - she added. "A year ago, if somebody would have told me I'd wind up taking lessons from you, I'd have thought them crazy." Ty remarked, "But I'm grateful you've given me the chance." She smiled. "Any time, merc!" - before adding: "See you in an hour... you did promise to teach me to shoot!" "Of course." Ty smirked, before heading to the med-bay. While Deathstrike was meditating in her quarters, the chief medical officer of the Bekrija, a middle-aged woman wearing thick glasses, was scowling over Ty's injury: "Torn ligaments in the shoulder... hairline fracture of the collarbone. Don't tell me..." - she began wearily, summoning an MD8 medical droid - "Another training 'accident'?" - before continuing in a scornful tone: "You know, we have at least a dozen cases like this every single day, every one of them from some idiot Acolyte not exercising common sense while sparring. I can never understand what is it about serious physical injury that those Sith types find so appealing. So, who was it this time that inflicted this? Must be that animal Keirn, he takes special pleasure in tormenting the new ones..." - she inquired. Ty shook his head. "No, it was Deathstrike." The chief medic lifted her eyebrows at that, before shaking her head and muttering under her breath an unflattering descriptive term regarding Deathstrike, while the droid began to apply bone-stabilizers and a bacta regenerator to Ty's shoulder. One of the other medics there remarked: "The Lady of Pain herself, eh? In that case, you're still lucky, friend... should've seen some of the ones they brought in on a stretcher after they tangled with her! One Adept... we had to do a neural-reconstruction treatment before he could even stand up again." - before adding: "Still, at least she's got the decency not to 'prey' on the new ones... not like Keirn and his kind! Which level are you? Because she usually doesn't even bother with those below level - what's the term - 'Tier' 5?" "She was teaching me Tier 5 techniques, but I think I'm officially considered Tier 3." Ty responded. "Hmm... then you really must have caught her attention. I suppose you two have some history?" - the medic remarked, as the droid was about halfway through the procedure. "You have no idea." Ty replied with a half-smile. "Well... then something tells me we will be seeing you in here on a regular basis!" - the medic laughed, before adding: "Don't worry... as much damage as she usually does in training, no-one we treated was ever left with anything permanent! She seems to always know how far to go." "Which is more than I could say for Keirn... and one of the Initiates he left permanently paralyzed. If I had any say in it, that animal should be disciplined for what he did!" - the chief medic muttered at that. "Don't get any ideas, chief... you know what'll happen to us if he finds out we've gone over his head and told Deathstrike what happened." - the assistant medic replied in hushed tones. The woman just scowled at that, before getting back to work on Ty's shoulder. "So it's Sith policy to let someone get away with abuse just because he outranks you?" Ty inquired, deciding to test both the medics and dig into the True Sith philosophy. "It's not quite that simple..." - the assistant began, before the chief medic took over: "It would be basically our word against Keirn's. And he IS the chief trainer aboard, AND a Force-user. Unless we could prove to Deathstrike that he did in fact cause that kind of damage, she wouldn't believe us. That bastard made sure the camera records were erased, and the Initiate was eliminated in short order, with his body disposed of, and gave Deathstrike a report that the Initiate was trying to sabotage the ship, and had to be eliminated. It would take someone she actually trusts, to even get her to suspect foul play. And we, as medics, are not exactly high on that list. She would think we're exaggerating, and overstating the injury, and dismiss it out of hand. Or worse - think we are trying to slander a Force user, and actually act against us." - she growled. The assistant shuddered at that: "And getting on her bad side is a very effective way of commiting suicide." "This Keirn seems to have all the angles covered." Ty observed, "But how do I know you're telling me the truth? You obviously now know that I have a connection with Deathstrike, so you could just as easily be trying to slander Keirn through me." "Not that I don't believe you two, but I would need some real evidence myself before I go risking my own neck to bring this up with anyone." he thought to himself. The chief medic bristled at that, before she snapped angrily: "We are practitioners of medicine! You might think we share the oftentimes savage attitude of most of the rest aboard, just because we serve aboard this vessel? I, myself was a doctor on Rhen Var, before I applied to join the RTSE military, to bring my healing skills to better use. My only concern here is to insure that unfortunate Initiate receives justice, even if postmortem. I have seen him, pinned to this here bed, begging me to help him... and all I could do was give him a painkiller, and file a report about the severed spinal cord, and permanent paralysis from the neck-down... a report that also happened to 'vanish' from the main computer database a few hours later!" Then she seemed to deflate, and resumed the work on Ty. "Interesting... Very interesting..." Ty mused softly. "If it happens again, I want you to tell me as soon as you can, understand?" The woman gave him a venomous glare, muttering: "If it happens again? Oh, yes, we'll tell you... after another person is dead because of that animal! Thank you SO much for your great help." - in a tone dripping with bitterness. "I can't help you if I have no proof." Ty coldy replied, "All I can do is suggest to Deathstrike that she keep a closer eye on Keirn, but even then I'm taking a bit of a risk." "You're forgetting she's a Force user, and a powerful one. If she trusted you, I have no doubt she would make some kind of Force 'probe' into Keirn's mind, when he wouldn't be expecting it, and find out if it is true. If we thought she would trust us, we would have told her already, actually." - the assistant medic said. "I'll bring it up with her." Ty finally submitted. "Thank you." - the chief medic said, looking Ty straight in the eye. Ten minutes later, the medics and their droid were finished with Ty's shoulder. It was still tender, and would remain so for the next few hours, but he once again had full use of his arm. As he was walking down the corridor, a commlink call came from Deathstrike: "Are you finished with your doctor's visit, Ty? If so, why don't you come to the firing range... Deck 24, Section 114 Alpha." "I'll be down there in a minute." the former merc responded, already en route. Minutes later, Ty Havox had entered the firing range - a large, expansive chamber, set up in several different areas, for different kinds of target practice with blasters and other small arms, whether it be on stationary targets, moving ones, or even simulated firefights, with training-mode blaster weapons firing stinger bolts, like those fired by Remotes, used for lightsaber training. Deathstrike awaited by the entrance. Aside from her, a dozen RTSE troopers were in evidence around the chamber, some of them glancing curiously in her direction - clearly not used to the sight of a Force user, and especially Deathstrike, paying a visit to what was almost universally known as the "Trooper Country" aboard all RTSE ships. Ty decided to wait on bringing up Keirn until later, at a more strategic time perhaps. For now, he'd focus on getting Deathstrike learned in the use of the good ol' blaster. "So where do you want to start? With the basic rifle perhaps?" Ty asked as he walked up to Deathstrike. She seemed uncertain. "Frankly, I don't know, Ty... but since I had used blaster pistols then, perhaps we should start with that?" - she asked. "Okay, we'll do that." Ty walked into the range, glancing around for a weapon locker that may contain pistols. Finding one, he walked over and recovered a couple plain pistols and motioned for Deathstrike to follow him over to the area set-up for pistols. She took one of the pistols, then aimed at the nearest target, only about 15 meters away. The tension in her shoulder as she did that was clear, and her finger tensed on the trigger before she fired - flinching at the weapon's recoil, as the bolt missed the target by a healthy margin. "How crude... but I still NEED to know how to use them, just in case!" - she thought, lowering the weapon and looking at it in disgust. One of the troops nearby snickered, shaking with laughter, before he caught himself. Hissing between her teeth, Deathstrike turned to the soldier, smiling wickedly. "Laugh it up, trooper... but I don't need a blaster, or the Force, to kill you from a distance, if I wanted..." - as one of her razor-sharp assassin blades suddenly flashed through the air, impaling itself halfway-deeply into a wooden target next to the soldier, standing almost 20 meters away, at the same height as his flimsy facial helmet visor. "That could have been through your face, my dear." - she deadpanned, before the soldier replied: "Point taken, Lady!" - turning back to his practice. Ty smiled, as he brought his own pistol up. "Okay, there's a number of things you did wrong. First, observe my stance and holding position." he said, then brought attention to his hand position, "Your non-dominant hand is to steady your dominant one. Then you exhale and slowly squeeze the trigger; don't anticipate the recoil." The merc fired three shots, each striking relatively close to the center of the target. "If you jerk the trigger or anticipate the kick-back, you're not going to hit where you want." he added. But how do I know which of my hands is dominant? I was trained to rely equally on both hands." - she replied, lifing the weapon and holding it in a crude imitation of Ty's stance, before she fired. This time, she didn't tense as much, and pulled the trigger slowly, while exhaling, like Ty told her, but she still anticipated the recoil, her deeply ingrained Teras Kasi reflex there not allowing her otherwise. The bolt nicked the edge of the target. She sighed. "Why do these weapons do that?" - she asked irritably. "Ranged weapons will recoil, you have to learn how to accomodate that." Ty replied before inquiring: "Do you know which of your eyes is dominant? There's a few simply ways to figure that out if you don't know." "Oh, that's simple... my right one. I had learned that early on, when I realized my throwing accuracy was off when only using my left eye." - she replied, before adding: "But I use both my hands equally well in hand-to-hand combat. So I don't know which is dominant." "Well, normally that would be what you'd use to write, if anyone actually wrote anymore. However, if you can use them both equally well, then you'd use the one that coincides with your dominant eye. So, use your right hand to grip and pull the trigger." Ty explained, "Now, when you pull the trigger, just squeeze it slowly. Don't anticipate; let the discharge surprise you." Once again lifting the weapon and gripping it with her right hand while supporting with the left one, Deathstrike tried her best to rein in her extremely powerful instinct to anticipate, as she slowly pulled the trigger. While far from successful, the flinch was somewhat less pronounced than before, and the bolt struck the outer cone of the target this time. "It takes practice, no different than mastering anything else." Ty stated, "If you can remember to squeeze the trigger, not jerk it, and allow the recoil to surprise you, you'll learn it over time. Even though some people manage with one hand firing at awkward angles, remember that they are experts who have been doing it for a long time. Go ahead and take a few more shots." "If I can throw a knife to strike and kill a bird in mid-flight at 25 meters, I'm sure I can master this... thing." - she muttered in annoyance, squeezing off six more shots. Three of them hit the outer cone, two missed entirely, while the last actually struck the inner cone, but still not the center. "It'll take time." Ty admitted, "Most of it is just practice. You want to move to the rifles now, or keep going with the pistol?" "Well... I can't imagine when would I ever need to use a rifle instead of something smaller and more subtle like this, but... if it is easier to use... fine." - she replied dubiously. "Rifles are more accurate, pack more punch and have better range. If you needed to blast something that was further out than you could throw your knives, a rifle is better." the merc opined. He then went and got two rifles, one of them a standard-issue ZR-315A rifle used by the Sith Troopers, the other a more generic one used by various third-party entities. After that he led Deathstrike over to a range with targets that were further out, obviously geared for rifles. "I've found that it is easier to hold a rifle that has a stock of some sort, but not all rifles have that. In that case, it's a bit more difficult to fire accurately. I'd recommend using the stock for now." he mused, extending the stock on the Sith rifle and handing it to her. Raising the ZR-315A to her shoulder, Deathstrike squeezed off a shot, keeping in mind what Ty had said about not tensing on the trigger, and trying not to anticipate the recoil. In this case, she was aided by the ZR-315A's integrated recoil suppressor in the stock, which significantly cushioned the blowback, as well as the advanced weapon's ergonomically designed grips. The blast struck the inner cone of a target 50 meters away, and she smiled. "Well, Ty... looks like this weapon agrees with me more than those pistols!" - lowering it. "Not bad at all." Ty commented, "Go ahead and fire off a few more." She did so, once again the rifle's superior design offsetting her inexperience to a degree. Firing six more shots, only one missed the target, and only two more hit outside the inner circle. "Alright, now try it without the stock." the merc suggested. Lulled into overconfidence by the seeming successes, Deathstrike retracted the stock, then tried again... and was rudely surprised, as the rifle's recoil was suddenly quadrupled compared to what it was before, and she flinched significantly when firing. The bolt missed the target by over five meters. "What in..." - she exclaimed in surprise, looking at the weapon. "Not so easy without a shoulder-brace is it?" the merc chuckled. "No... I suppose not." - she muttered, glancing over at one of the troopers, firing his ZR in full-auto with the stock retracted, and actually maintaining decent accuracy at a target about 15 meters away, only one shot in several missing the board. "How does he DO that?! It felt like the weapon was about to tear itself out of my grip!" - she added. "Experience. Here, lemme take a couple shots." Ty offered, taking the blaster from Deathstrike and aiming it at the target. Having shot many different weapons, including the ever-common E-11, the recoil of the blaster didn't faze Ty. After missing a couple shots just outside the inner-circle, Ty quickly got used to the weapon's characteristics and rattled off a half dozen shots all within the center-target. He then switched it to full-auto and fired a few bursts, showing accuracy surpassing that of the trooper. Turning and handing the blaster back to Deathstrike, Ty remarked: "You can do it; you just need to get used to the weapon. I can't stress the importance of practice enough." Deathstrike nodded thoughtfully, fingering the carbine. "Perhaps... personally, I still think these blaster weapons are so crude and primitive, lacking the elegant subtlety of a lightsaber blade, or a finely balanced throwing knife, but I can't deny the effectiveness - in the right hands. I'll take the time to practice each day for a time, I suppose... but I still hope I NEVER actually have to rely on them in a true battle!" - she stated. "Sometimes keeping the enemy at further than arm's length can make a lot of difference." Ty responded with a smirk, "The simplicity and deadliness of blasters, as well as their older slugthrower cousins, are a thing of beauty if you ask me. Still getting up-close-and-personal has its own charm..." "To each their own, I suppose..." - she reflected, once again taking in the trooper and his control over the ZR, at the level she could only dream of, before focusing on Ty again: "But I have never come across a situation where my preferred weapons could not match a blaster in the hands of my enemies!" - with confidence. "You need to play with a slugthrower." Ty said deviously, "But I suppose we can do that another time." "I have, Ty..." - Deathstrike replied equally deviously, before adding: "Those can't be deflected back, true... but I can use the Force to slow down the physical projectiles, giving me more time to anticipate, and a lightsaber can still block them, thought sometimes the molten metal drops would slip through to burn me slightly. Just gives me added incentive, as I relish pain!" - she hissed. "But yes... those are more unpleasant to fight against than blasters, I concur." - walking toward the exit, and briefly stopping, to Force Pull the previously thrown knife back from the board, before it again vanished into her left glove. As the left the range and were strolling down the hallway, Ty remembered what the medics had told him. Deciding to start subtly, he spoke: "How well do you know the Acolyte called Keirn?" the former merc asked. Deathstrike shrugged. "The trainer? He is competent, in fact among the elite of the Acolytes... Tier 6 Teras Kasi Adept, the only one of that level aboard, had actually seen action against the New Republic before being assigned to the Bekrija. We sparred a few times, with and without the Force. He is good... lacks the motivation to progress further, but I like fighting him... I don't have to hold back as much as with the others." - she said, with a vicious smile. "Still... I can't say I approve of his domineering attitude toward the lower-ranked Acolytes. He is too arrogant for his own good at times." - she added with a slight disapproving scowl. "And appearantly not very merciful to rookies." Ty added. Deathstrike smirked at that: "Merciful? We don't make apologies for the weak, Ty! If they can't take some pain in training, they're not worthy of becoming one of us! Was I merciful to you in our session?" - glancing at his bacta-bandaged shoulder. "A shoulder injury isn't the same as a spinal injury." Ty responded flatly. Now, Deathstrike's face had darkened slightly, and she stopped, turning to Ty and speaking in a measuring tone: "Is there something in particular you're trying to tell me, Ty? If so, then say it, because I think you know how much I dislike sidestepping the issue!" - looking him straight in the eye, a slight undertone of annoyance also audible. "Keirn has apparently been overly brutal with initiates. I've been told he even paralyzed a man from the neck down, but he covered his tracks to avoid punishment." Ty responded, "I can't be sure it's the truth, but you can. You can use the force to investigate what Keirn's been up to." Deathstrike's face was carved from stone, as her eyes bored into Ty's. "Who told you this?" - she finally asked, her tone now barely above a low, menacing whisper. "The doctors in the med-bay. They are too afraid to tell you directly because they don't think you'll trust their word against Keirn's." Deathstrike nodded, already setting off toward the med bay at a fast walk. "Well then, I think I'll hear it from them. If they're telling the truth, I shall sense it through the Force, and act on it. If they're lying, I'll kill them where they stand." - in a durasteel-hard tone, eyes blazing with that manic emerald gleam. Ty followed, curious to see what would happen. Minutes later, Deathstrike walked into the medical bay, where the chief medic and her assistant were studying some medical papers on a computer terminal. As usual, her silent footsteps didn't alert the medics, until Ty walked in behind. Only then did the chief medic turn, to find Deathstrike standing less than a meter behind her. "Ah... this is unexpected, my Lady. I trust you are well?" - the woman stammered, a drop of sweat sliding down her forehead, as she could guess all too well what what this all about, with Ty standing there as well. The assistant simply stood frozen to the side, as Deathstrike replied: "Far better than you shall both be, if the allegation you made is false. Tell me EXACTLY what happened." - in a voice that was no longer menacing, but simply steely calm. As the medic began the story again, Deathstrike stood there motionless, stretching through the Force, not interrupting even once. "I have one question." Ty injected, taking advantage of a brief pause in the medic's recollection, "If you already knew Deathstrike could sense the truth, why wouldn't you go to her directly? If you were sure she'd be able to find out what happened through the force, why would you need me as a medium to inform her?" "Perhaps they overlooked this. Deathstrike would have been able to sense if they were lying, so why would they be afraid to tell her if they knew she could determine the integrity of their claims?" was his thought afterward. "B...because..." - the chief medic began, then plunged on, at a glare from Deathstrike - "Because, Lady, frankly..." - again she paused, looking uncertain. "SAY IT ALREADY!" - Deathstrike snapped, this sort of verbal tiptoeing always the one that annoyed her the most, the bile in her voice making both medics almost literally skip a heartbeat, as they hugged the wall in fear that was now obvious to anyone. The assistant continued, as the chief medic was momentarily cowed completely. "We are... aware of your reputation, Lady. We've... heard rumors, and... seen your handiwork first hand here. And your opinion of medical personel is... rather well known, as well. We were... concerned that... even if we were telling the truth... you would not believe us at all, even as far as to sense it for yourself. Or worse..." - before he ran out of words, like the chief medic. Now, Deathstrike's eyes softened slightly in understanding. "You were afraid. Of what you thought I would do to you." - she stated simply. They simply nodded. Shaking her head, Deathstrike took a deep breath, thinking: "It would seem I will have to work on my public image somewhat..." - with an involuntary smile, before she replied in a reassuring tone. "Look... I won't say I like your kind very much, that's true. Mostly because your overt compassion is annoying, and you tend to vastly exaggerate minor training injuries. There are other reasons, but I won't go into those right now. But if you think I would have simply killed you out of hand, without even considering what you said - you're wrong. Despite what you may have heard, I'm NOT as vicious as that!" "Not outside of battle, anyway..." - she added to herself, before continuing: "In the future... if something like this, or anything else that you feel requires my attention, comes up again... don't hesitate to come to me with it. I promise, I'll give you a full hearing, my opinion of you notwithstanding. If you're telling the truth, no matter how outlandish it seems, rest assured, I shall act on it, immediately, like I intend to, regarding this - incident. If you're lying, however, you will die. It is as simple as that. Alright?" - she finished. Both medics looked more than a little relieved, before the chief medic replied, once again finding her voice: "Yes, Lady Deathstrike." - while thinking: "Maybe those rumors were... incorrect." - a thought which Deathstrike readily intercepted, still stretched through the Force. She smiled slightly. "Not always, Lieutenant Commander." - addressing the chief medic by her rank. "I... see." - the medic replied. Ty remained silent, deciding he'd wait to be spoken to before getting back into the conversation. Deathstrike nodded. "I'm glad we understand each other. Now, as for the Keirn issue... I'll deal with it immediately, like I said." - already walking out. "Coming Ty? You might enjoy the show... nothing I enjoy more than teaching a coward preying on the weak, while passing himself off as one of the True Sith, a permanent lesson." - she added over her shoulder. "They were telling the truth... now I will only confirm it, by reaching into his mind to verify it. And then, he shall die." - eyes blazing with anger. "Wouldn't miss it." Ty replied, quickly catching up to her. Deathstrike threw him a wicked grin, not breaking stride, before she lifted her commlink: "Keirn... you there, my dear?" - she asked, her tone falsely sultry. "I am now... just was about to get something to eat. What's up?" - he asked smoothly, apparently picking up on her tone. "I'm in the mood for some pain... are you up to making me feel it?" - Deathstrike purred viciously. An aroused growl could be heard from the link, before Keirn replied: "Only if that pain is followed by a different one... Lady!" "Well... you know me well enough to be assured of that, don't you? Meet me in G11." - Deathstrike replied playfully, shutting off the link. "Let's go." - she added to Ty, her tone back to cold anger in a blink of an eye, making her way to the nearest turbolift. "Tell me, do you encounter trouble-makers in the Sith ranks often or rarely?" Ty inquired. "Not as rarely as I would like..." - she muttered, before adding: "But the Master had made it VERY clear what the True Sith stance toward cowards and bullies is. And what should be done with them once identified. And I agree fully... someone like that is the very opposite of what being a True Sith means." - she paused there for a moment. "The only thing that makes me angrier than his conduct, is the fact that a man like that had ACTUALLY managed to rise to become one of our elite Acolytes!" - she growled, then added an afterthought, her tone crossing into the realm of joyous bloodlust: "I shall TRULY enjoy this! A chance to really... let go." - the two of them in the turbolift, heading up. "At least you try to be prudent in keeping your ranks clean." Ty remarked, "Some military forces don't even bother." "Like the Galactic Empire was?" - she inquired, as they were out of the lift, and on the same deck as G11 gymnasium. Stretching through the Force, Deathstrike could feel thar Keirn was already waiting inside. "The Empire had its corruption, but even they seemed effective in policing themselves compared with some of the smaller military organizations I've seen." Ty replied. "You can tell me about it later..." - she remarked, as they came to the gymnasium's entrance. Taking a minute to stretch deeply through the Force, and sense Keirn's thoughts, Deathstrike was secretly hoping that the medics might have actually been lying after all, since she was still reluctant to accept that an Acolyte could have behaved like that. However, 45 seconds later, she was no longer in any doubt. "You will die slowly, coward!" - was her thought, as she entered the chamber, after pressing a button to lower the ysalamiri harnesses. As Deathstrike entered the chamber, Keirn grinned from where he was standing: "So... you want it to be pure pain, without the Force, eh? Just the way I like it..." - he growled, not having the faintest idea what would happen. "Yes, indeed... you shall like it." - she purred, approaching casually, before suddenly adding in an ominous tone: "But not as much as I shall!" - as her right foot snapped out in a flash in a vicious hammer-kick, connecting with his gut, as he doubled over - directly into a devastating knee-strike from her other leg, to the side of his chin, breaking his jaw and blasting out three teeth. "WHA---" - he started in pain, collapsing to the deck to his side, before the dull pain of his broken jaw prevented him from finishing. "Did you enjoy it? As much as you did having your way with that Initiate, weakling?" - Deathstrike asked, in a ruthlessly cold voice, as Keirn scrambled to his feet, belatedly adopting a combat stance. Not replying, he tried a twin-combo - a snap kick to her neck and a compression strike to the solar plexus, followed by a vicious direct to the throat with the stiffened fingers of his other hand. She half-crouched, flexing to the left at the waist, simultaneously ducking the snap kick and causing the compression strike to only graze her ribs, as she trapped his outstretched hand, while tensing her neck and resisting the direct to the throat, though it did leave her gagging and out of breath for a moment. Then, she applied leverage to the outstretched hand - breaking it at the elbow, before she straightened, adding a vicious hammer-kick to his left-side ribs, breaking one of them, and sending him again to the deck. "AAAAHHHH!!!" - he screamed. "Now I'll demonstrate just how easily I can have my way with you. And then, you will die." - Deathstrike added, her voice remaining steely ruthless, resisting the urge to cough, as she waited for him to get back up. Ty remained out of the way, arms crossed and watching in amusement. If he had a cigar, he would be smoking it now. "Sometimes life is worse than death." he said softly. Wheezing through his smashed mouth, Keirn tried to get back up: "He...vuz...wek--- AAHH!" the broken jaw making the wordz blurred, before the pain again stopped him from finishing the sentence. To his credit, however, even with those kinds of injuries, he still didn't give up. Onse back up, he tried a backspin kick at Deathstrike, aiming for her nose. She dropped to a low crouch, ducking it and snapping her left foot directly to the side of the knee of his suporting leg, breaking it sideways with a loud crack of splintered bone. A result of more sensitive nerves in the knee compared to the elbow, his scream was even more shrill this time, as he collapsed like a rag to the deck again. "No. You were the one who was weak, for preying on someone who didn't stand a chance agenst you. That is not the act of a True Sith!" Deathstrike finally retorted, her voice of cold contempt staying the same. The cruel proces of torturous debilitation continued for a few minutes more, on every instance another one of Keirn's bones broken or dislocated, until finally, Deathstrike's right hand, shaped in a wedge, effected a piercing strike to his spine, severing the spinal cord, disabling him in the same way as Keirn disabled that Initiate. "How does it feel?" - she asked coldly. But Keirn was no longer in any condition to answer, only able to whimper softly. "I thougt as much." - Deathstrike answered her own question, before she placed both hands on the back of his neck, and effected a thumb presure-snap of his neck, kiling him instantly. Ty walked forward, nodding slightly. "I would've done one thing differently." he mused as he came up alongside Deathstrike. "What's that?" she asked, giving him a sideways look. Strangely, she did not sound happy, or as if she enjoyed it, at all. "I would not have killed him." the former merc said bluntly, "I would have kept him alive." Ty walked over to Keirn's body and slowly kicked it over so he was face up. "Having him die here, in a private room, without trial or ceremony... his victim may be avenged, but does this do anything to deter future crimes? Will this actually do anything to prevent such conduct from being repeated? I would've kept him alive, but still paralyzed. He would be a living example that such actions are not tolerated." He slowly circled around the dead Acolyte's body as he continued to speak: "Since he died in a back-room, with no witnesses other than me, he'll be forgotten or ignored. If he were to live, on display for all to see, he'd serve an long-lasting reminder to future potential trouble-makers. And he'd be forced to live through the same miserable, humiliating injury he inflicted on the unfortunate initiate." he concluded, raising his head to look at Deathstrike. Even though he was not sure Deathstrike would approve, he knew he couldn't be anything but honest with her. Deathstrike listened silently throughout Ty making his case, before she nodded toward each of the four corners of the chamber - and a small, high-resolution panoramic camera with integrated microphone, embedded into the walls there. Then she stepped to a control panel in one of the walls, and input a command to send the camera footage to every crewman's personal computer terminal, starting with the Captain's, followed by all the other Acolytes aboard, then the rest of the crew. Then she spoke quietly: "Trust me, Ty... everyone who would need to see what happened here, shall see, and hear it, in fact - if not seeing it already. I expect the captain to be calling me within the next few minutes, about issuing an official memo to the crew." - before she added: "As for making it a public ceremony... that is not the way we deal with capital punishment. It is a disgrace, that does not deserve something like that!" - her voice turning to bitter. "Half an hour ago, I considered him a friend. Then I discovered the truth... and at that point, I no longer had any choice! Remember what I said before, that I would enjoy it, Ty? I did... on an instinctive level, like I relish killing in general. But on the level of my convictions - despite what he had done, he was still one of us. Not an enemy! I hated him for what he did, I hated him for what he just made me do, and I hate myself for doing it!" - she finished. Ty simply nodded. "It's not my job to make policy, so I'll let you to your own devices." he said. A minute later, Deathstrike's commlink beeped. "Lady? I have just seen the security footage..." - the captain began. "Good. Collect a statement from the medical personnel, they will provide the details leading to this punishment." - Deathstrike replied. "Understood. Will you be making an official memo, Lady?"- the military-precise voice came back. "Later. For now, there is one more issue. In the past, Keirn had manipulated the official camera recordings as well, which makes me believe he had an accomplice, covering his tracks. Since none of the Acolytes have that kind of computer expertise, it must have been someone of your command staff - probably an officer with extensive engineering or computer background." - she said. "Lady, I find it hard to believe any of my officers would have participated in--" - before Deathstrike interrupted him: "You don't have to believe... the medical personnel will corroborate that too. Conduct an investigation, and find this accomplice, then have them executed as well! Am I clear?!" - she snapped. "Yes, Lady Deathstrike." - before the link went dead. "Well, you're efficient and to the point, I can't argue there." Ty remarked softly. Deathstrike nodded. "I've had a lot of practice being that way, Ty. Besides... the Master would not have it any other way!" - with a slight smile. With that, they both left the chamber, just as a detail was arriving to dispose of Keirn's body. NAR SHADDAA - INDUSTRIAL SECTOR In Krexon's office, middle of local night. A soft shadow passed over the faintly illuminated desk, from the spillage of a lamp outside. With a soft clack sound of an electronic lock-bypass device, the bottom-most drawer on the desk extended. "I have it. The Black Sun employee records." - Zaiya sent a Force message to her two accomplices. "Beware. Second patrol converging on your location." - one of the Huntresses replied. "Are you in position to dispose of them?" - she inquired. "Negative. Insufficient time. We shall move to cut off their retreat to the alarm panel, should they spot you." - came the reply. "Good. You have scrambled the commlink channels?" - Zaiya asked. "Naturally." - the second Huntress replied, a touch of sarcasm in the sense of the message. Not far from the office complex, a group of four mercenary guards was making the rounds. They were conversing quietly amongst themselves, as a pair of shadowy shapes suddenly hopped from a wall some distance behind them, quickly losing themselves among the buildings. "So, what's the story with the chief, huh?" - one merc asked - "The boss wasn't very talkative, just said she had to bail out of the contract." "No clue... but I guess it had something to do with that secret mission to take out Gargonn he had her doing... you know anything about that?" - another mercenary inquired. "I've heard Boba Fett was actually in on that!" - the third one muttered before the first could respond. "Oh, sure... and I'm a Republic Senator! Don't believe every half-baked rumour you pick up! You know that Mando's dead... has been for years." - the second scoffed at that. Suddenly, a quick movement in the direction of the office building caught his attention. Squinting through the darkness, the merc muttered: "Seen that?" - shifting his grip on his blaster carbine. "What?!" - one of the others asked. Not replying, the mercenary moved in that direction, the other three reluctantly following. Just as the lead merc rounded the corner of the wall of the office building, his gaze fell on two more guards - bisected cleanly in half, very dead. "What the-- nggh." - was all he had time to say, before a paralysis dart imbedded itself in his neck. "What's the matter..." - the second one asked, not noticing the small dart, puzzled by the leader's sudden inexplicable paralysis. At that moment, a shadowy form of a slender woman seemingly materialized out of thin air to the right of them. Before the merc, or any of the others, had time to so much as twitch, a lightwhip blade came sweeping through them. Three mercs were bisected cleanly in a horisontal swipe, including the paralyzed one, before the woman suddenly darted to hide behind one of the other buildings. "Sith-spit!!!" - the last merc exclaimed, fumbling for his commlink, which issued only a squeal of a wide-spectrum jamming signal. Thinking quickly, the merc turned back the way he came, taking off at a dead run toward the nearest alarm panel, intent on sounding out a complex-wide security alert. Before he was halfway there, however, another paralysis dart flashed in from the general direction of the alarm panel, taking him in the shoulder, paralyzing him. One of the Huntresses approached from behind the alarm station, unsheathing her vibrodagger. With a savage hiss, licking her lips, she whispered: "Mmm... I shall enjoy this... I wish to taste your warm, sweet blood, handsome!" - about to begin bloodletting the paralyzed merc, before Zaiya's voice intoned impatiently behind: "There is a time and place for... recreation, sister, and this is not one of them... Dispose of him and let's move!" - running past. "Always one to ruin the fun, aren't you, Zaiya?" - the Huntress glared briefly at her, before the second one added: "Come on, you heard! The sooner we're back to our ship, the sooner we can start analyzing the employee records, and find out where that outcast whore had gone!" "Right..." - the Huntress muttered, slashing the merc's throat, before following in her accomplices' wake. Half an hour later, back at the enforcement craft... After a dozen minutes of combing through the records, Zaiya had finally found Krexon's log of Kiara's dismissal from the contract. "Sernpidal? Why would she had gone to that wretched cesspit?" - one of the Huntresses inquired. Zaiya looked at her as if she was diseased, before replying in a tone of strained patience: "Use your head, you small minded fool... she is a mercenary, and she would go where mercenary work would be in demand! Yes?" The Huntress simply nodded, giving Zaiya a venomous glare, before the other asked: "Do we depart immediately?" "No sense in delays, is there?" - Zaiya replied with a question, before motioning both of them to prepare the ship for takeoff. Within the next hour, the stealthy craft made the jump to hyperspace. KALRICH SHIPPING CO. MAIN BASE - DEEP SPACE The four-ship flight of Z-95 Headhunters glided gracefully through space near the Kalrich Shipping Company's main headquarters; carefully avoiding the few cargo containers floating about. Each ship's young pilot was eagerly awaiting the return of a large convoy due to arrive sometime within the hour. "Gav had better keep his promise," one of the pilots, a 19-year-old Human named Kam Drejee, muttered over the radio, "I'm going to be mad if he doesn't." "When has he ever not kept a promise except when Drosk decides to be a pain in the arse?" Hadji Zatoq, a Twi'lek, and the flight-group's leader, responded. At 20 years old, Zatoq was the oldest in the flight-group. "Well, Drosk better not get in the way this time. I'm dying to fly one of those Razors!" Kam exclaimed. "Yah, you've made that clear the whole week." was his squadmate's sarcastic reply. "I'm sure Jyrett and Tay are too." Kam continued, mentioning the other two pilots in the flight-group, "Aren't you guys?" Jyrett, Kam's 16-year-old younger brother, and Tay, an 18-year-old adventure-hungry tomboy responded affirmatively, though clearly not as excited as Kam was. Of the group, Kam was the best pilot, even though Hadji was the leader, due to him being older and more mature. Jyrett was probably the most mechanically gifted of the lot, despite being one of the youngest pilots in the company's junior fighter squadron. Tay was a good pilot, though not as much so as Kam; however, she was the most adventurous, with a clearly-stated desire to fly an actual combat mission. Kalrich Co. was a small, family-owned business that had been in operation for just over twenty years, predating the New Republic. It had been among the few companies to avoid being forced to take sides during the war, but had failed to make any great profit from this neutrality. Despite being a decently long-standing company, it still remained rather miniscule, with only two bases, a relatively small freighter fleet and no more than a handful of actual dedicated combat-ships for escort duty. The Z-95s being flown by the young pilots had once been the company's primary security fighters, but it had managed enough profit to purchase a shipment of newer and more effective Razor Fighters, which were now used as the primary escort starfighter. Rather than get rid of the Z-95s, Kalrich Co. kept them and formed a "junior fighter squadron" for the teenage children of company employees, giving them both a job and experience in flying spacecraft. They were never deployed on long-range, high-risk assignments, but rather delegated to safer, short-range escort duty and patrolling around the bases. The young flyers continued chatting over the radio, until finally the convoy arrived. There were about a dozen or so unarmed Bulk Freighters and Mobquet Transports, flanked on each corner by an armed Xiytiar Transport. In the center was the flagship, a DP20 Corellian Gunship. Two Virella Systems' Cargo Tankers were also in the mix, each one hauling a Container Hangar, a large container made by Xizor Transport Systems that was capable of carrying fighters. And in this case, that is just what it did. Each container held six fighters, housed their pilots, along with a couple mechanics, and held some supplies. Because of the long-distances Kalrich Co.'s convoys often undertook, it was necessary to have a hangar for the fighter pilots to dock their ships for fueling and repair, as well as to give the pilots rest. And since the company could not afford a full-sized capital ship with a hangar, they were forced to innovate. "Well it's about time you guys got home!" Kam razzed the convoy ship crewmen over the radio. Six Razor Fighters were flying escort over the convoy and one of its pilots spoke up: "Heya kid, good tuh see ya'll haven't changed while I was gone!" his familiar voice sounded over the radio. "Hi Gav!" Kam responded excitedly. Inside her fighter, Tay shuddered slightly. Even though Kam admired the ex-Rebel pilot, and he seemed nice enough on the surface, he still gave her the creeps. "So who's all flyin' tuhday?" Gav asked. "Hadji here, good to see you back Mr. Durgen." the Twi'lek flight leader spoke up. Jyrett and Tay also greeted him, although Tay much less enthusiastically. Meanwhile, the Freighters began dispersing, some moving to pick up their next load while others going to get repairs. "Run into any trouble out there?" Hadji inquired. "As a matta' of fact, yes we did." Gav declared, "Ran intuh a group of pirates near Rodia, but they didn't stand no chance ‘gainst us. Not one loss suffered there. But then another group ambushed us at Ryloth, and we lost a fighter, poor devil. Freighters took a little lickin' too, but they all came out in one piece." "How many did you bag in total?" Kam asked, expecting a big number, and Gav didn't disappoint. After some more chat, the Z-95s were cleared to land back on the main cargo station, from which they had launched. Gav and his five wingmates also landed there, since Gav intended to make good on a promise he had made before the convoy departed: That some of the junior pilots would get to try out the Razors, which had been exclusively used by the professional combat flyers like himself up until this point. But first he, along with the captain of the Gunship, who was in overall charge of the convoy, had to report to the owner. And there was much to talk about... TITANIA, SECRET HOLOGRAM MEETING, HEADED BY DIABLO KRETOVAS AND COUNT ENNOMOS "Our many sovereign worlds thrived under the guidance of the Jedi, and for centuries we enjoyed peace and prosperity..." - Ennomos was saying. "Then Von Grath came with the Gatekeeper. Despite internal struggles amongst them, they overran our meager defenses and slaughtered our people, and destroyed our worlds. Desperate, and unable to mount an efficient resistance on their own, my ancestors and the Jedi turned to the Old Republic for help. With reinforcements from the Republic, they finally stood a fighting chance. It seemed their fortunes were turning, as they mounted a counter-offensive..." "Such hope was short lived..." "Von Grath displayed a terrifying new weapon, some kind of supership. Using it, the last of their forces were destroyed, and they were incorporated into the Ekatra Order. The use of this superweapon was too much for the Gatekeeper, and he left the Order, transforming his own fleet into what is now the Shadow Empire. But us... we were held under the banner of the Ekatra, and eventually, we even saw peace..." - Diablo addressed the gathered Ekatra, who were beginning to grow uneasy. "Now, after years of constant warfare, our alliances are breaking down. As you well know, Remus is moving back into what he was. What he is. The destruction of Trisac was just the beginning." - Ennomos said. "I have seen him, just yesterday." - Diablo added. "He acts nothing like we remember. He is beginning to lose it again. The time is now. We MUST make our move if we are going to survive." "He has gone back to the Nightrealm today. We all know why." - another Ekatra spoke up. "There is nothing we can do for the Traders. Repelon seems to be going along with this... travesty," Diablo muttered angrily. "Worse, he plans to inform Von Grath of our plans upon his return." "But what are we going to do? We don't have any warships of our own. Remus owns them all!" - a younger Ekatra, who had not been informed of the full spectrum, spoke. Diablo and Ennomos looked at one another uneasily. "I have made contact with a... nemesis... who knows what this feels like, and has experienced this before. He has agreed to shelter us with open arms on the condition we assist him in his quest to destroy Remus once and for all." - the Count stated. With that, a second hologram opened next to Ennomos, revealing the face of the Gatekeeper, who looked like there were a thousand places he would rather be. "HIM?!" - several Ekatra burst out at once. "I am afraid we do not have much of a choice. The lesser of two evils. Yesterday's enemy is today's friend. You know the sort." - Diablo said, also looking rather unhappy. Ennomos, looking thrilled, however, quickly came to the Gatekeeper's defense: "I have faith in the man. Anyone who was able to survive the first time should be able to do it again, and I for one feel our best chance to destroy the monster lies with him!" Dead silence; no one could argue his point. "Every faction rebels eventually." - the Gatekeeper finally said. "Now, at long last, Rebellion has begun to fracture the Ekatra. Sure, they still want to destroy the Sith and the Jedi, but now one another." "He's right." - Diablo confessed. "When Remus finds out what has transpired here he will kill us, along with all the Padawans." - he added ominously. Most of the Ekatra muttered in agreement. "But not all of your kind are with the plan." - GK bluntly stated. "Some are still brainwashed by the man. They will need to be destroyed as well." "And I have the rhyme for doing so." -Diablo said, grinning slightly. All heads turned to him. "Remus left me in charge of the Despair. Guess where it is going?" "Mmm..." - the Gatekeeper mumbled, not expecting such creativity on the part of Diablo. "If I may interrupt..." - Ennomos broke in. "We need to do this now. Already the clock is ticking." "We will be in SE space by tomorrow." - Diablo assured. "And once there, we will begin our crusade. Soon, it will all be over..." - the Gatekeeper muttered. "We cannot go wrong." HYPERSPACE, UNKNOWN REGIONS "I just got the report about Trisac, by the way." - said Ron via commlink from Titania's orbit. "Yes, what about it?" - Remus, from the other end, somewhere in hyperspace, answered. Ron took a deep breath, before saying; "Nothing. It's just... I thought those days were behind you." "No. I never should have stopped. SE citizens are far beyond saving." - Remus growled. "I agree. They're much like the Aliens and the Advent. Speaking of, we haven't heard from them in a while. Either they gave up, or they are plotting something." - Repelon, almost casually, said. "How are your prototypes?" - Remus asked from nowhere. "The Ankylon is working beautifully. It is ready for battle now. Robert can have it." - Ron boasted, referring to General Tasckird. "And the Ragnarov?" "Same. That one is mine. They won't know what hit ‘em." - a now-cheery Ron said. "I hope so..." - Remus muttered. Ron, noting his friend's different tone for the past few weeks now, suddenly asked, "Why are you going back?" Remus, anticipating that very question, had an answer prepared: "The Ekatra are planning to betray me." - he stated simply. Ron raised an eyebrow. "Yes... I was going to tell you that later in this conversation... Diablo thinks you are becoming too ‘monstrous' for the Ekatra, so he-" "Went to Count Ennomos." - Remus finished for him. "Yes..." - Ron muttered, once again realizing that he will never be able to surprise his friend with anything. "You know the rest?" "Gatekeeper." - was the only word needed. "Yep. And how do you know this?" "The Ekatra cannot hide from me. As you know, I can read minds." "Even the mind of a Force user?" - Ron asked, bewildered. "Even the mind of a Sith'ari." - Remus confirmed. "Anyway, you were saying?" "The Ekatra are planning to betray me. They may have already. I am not sure. But... now I have the Jedi, most of the Sith, and now the Ekatra after me. I cannot keep attempting to mold myself into an acceptable sociable being and expect to survive. No... I need to be myself..." "So... you're going to... ‘change,' so to speak, back into what you were when I first knew you?" - Ron asked. "In a nutshell." "And... how are you going to do that?" Ron wondered aloud. "Cleanse my spirit." "Huh?" "In terms you can understand, I am going to perform a ritual in which my Devior side, which is what binds me to this pathetic excuse for an existence, is removed." "Leaving you, once again, a Demon?" Ron asked. "Yes." "Won't the unbinding to this reality kill you?" he pondered. "No. My spirit is- ah, nevermind..." - Remus deadpanned. "You'll never understand." "Basically you'll come back looking like you did before, and acting like you did when we first met?" Ron summarized. "Yes." "Ok. That might be good for you, actually. If you're not putting on a front, it'll be easier for you to focus on important things." "Like basking in the slaughter of my enemies?" - Remus said with a slight chuckle. "Sure." Ron said, grinning. "As long as I'm not one of them!" "You're not." "Excellent." "Though I do wonder what the True Sith are going to say. They still haven't found out about Trisac, and when they do, no doubt they'll find out about most of the Ekatra leaving the Sentinel, and THEN they'll discover that I am nowhere to be found..." "Somebody's gonna be confused." - Ron laughed. "Yes. With the disappearance of Deathstrike, Darkon has been too busy to notice or care if he has about what is going on on my end. No doubt he doesn't trust me yet either, and this won't help. Then again... I don't care if he trusts me. I'm not going to waste my time arguing with a Sith." "That sounds a lot like what you used to say..." Ron murmured. "Yes. Now, in my absence, if the True Sith come calling, I am leaving you to fill them in. I have left that message with one of Darkon's people, and several of my own whom they may contact." "Ok. I will do it. But I will NOT go to see them alone..." Ron said, slightly concerned. "Don't worry. I'll be back in less than a week. If they threaten you, tell them that." "Ok. That makes me feel a little better." "Oh... and tell them that I'm bringing something with me..." Remus finalized, his tone now uncompromising. Ron understood in an instant. "Ok. So, I'll see you in at most a week." The line was cut right after his words.. ~~ Elsewhere, and contrary to Remus' belief, a large group of Ekatra were hidden aboard an ES Pacu, which was serving as a temporary meeting ground. This group of Ekatra, however, was not among the ones defecting. Most of them were older Ekatra, and had served on the Ekatra Council at some point in their lives. The elected leader, and the most powerful among them, Lawrence Graves, was at the front of the room. "And that sums up the Rebel movement as clearly as I can make it." - he growled, obviously unhappy. Graves, average size with gray hair and a goatee, stepped aside and let a Neimodian, Gune Mooray, take the lead. "With Remus gone back to the Nightrealm, and the Rebel movement happening now, we are extremely vulnerable to attack. Luckily for us, the Rebel Ekatra decided to flee rather than fight. However, a Shadow Empire assault is a very real possibility. According to our spy in the Rebel meeting earlier today, the Gatekeeper himself has taken an interest in the fallout of these proceedings." Graves retook the spot, and promptly said: "We outnumber the Rebel Ekatra about 2 to 1, but they are younger, and as already clarified, they have gone to the Shadow Empire. I do not need to tell you what this could mean for us." The discussion went on for over an hour amongst the older Ekatra, with various points being made. In the end, the decision was made to wait for Remus to return to make their presence known, running on the assumption that he knew of the betrayal. ABDERHALDEN, GATEKEEPER'S THRONE ROOM ABOARD THE DEATH STAR III As the Gatekeeper got the official report on Trisac, he couldn't help but feel a little satisfied. "Sir!" The Gatekeeper spun around in his chair to see an Imperial officer. "Yes?" "As you requested, we've pulled our ground troops off of Abderhalden. Your next orders?" - the officer asked. "Destroy the planet." - GK stated, turning back around. ~~ "Commence primary ignition..." With the planet locked on, the Superlaser charged for all of two seconds, and fired, instantly destroying Abderhalden, with all that remained a field of asteroids... The Gatekeeper couldn't help but shudder; he had never liked the idea of genocide, even if he had done it before himself. "Move on to the Gas Giant due East. We're done here..." he muttered as the officer left the room. HYPERSPACE - EN ROUTE TO KALRICH SHIPPING CO. DISTRIBUTION STATION Tay impatiently tapped the instrument board of her Z-95, as she gazed at the swirling blue vortex of hyperspace outside. How anyone could take being cramped in a little fighter like this for hours while traveling from place to place on escort duty was beyond her. Even the short amount of time required to travel between the Kalrich Co. main base and their distribution center was boring and lonely. When flying patrols, at least one had the advantage of being able to chat on the radio. No such luck here. All communication was dead while in hyperspace and the Z-95 lacked a large enough cockpit to bring anything interesting to do. It had been a little under a week since Gav allowed some of the junior pilots to fly the Razors; Kam still wouldn't stop talking about it. Since then, however; Gav had left with another convoy and things had returned to normal. At the moment, Tay was part of a two-ship flight escorting a pair of Mobquet Transports as they were moved from the main headquarters to distribution center. Just another boring routine flight, or so she thought. Finally the destination was reached, and Tay's Z-95 came out of hyperspace alongside the two Mobquets. Kam was on the other-side of the freighters, also flying his Z-95. "Freighter's KF-113 and KF-114 here." the captain of one of the Mobquets hailed the XQ2 Platform a number of clicks ahead of them. "Right on schedule, gentlemen." replied the platform administrator, "Move to buoy 3 and power-down there." "Copy that, sir." the Mobquet captain acknowledged, before speaking to the two Z-95 pilots, "Echo 1 and 2, maintain your position." Tay could almost hear Kam moan, even though nothing came over the radio. This meant having to keep with the slow speed of the two freighters as they inched toward the platform. It didn't help that Kalrich Co. ships tended to drop out of hyperspace a fair distance from their actual goal, so it always seemed there was a ton of sub-light traveling to be done. For a few minutes the two teen pilots did what they had been told, as Tay watched the System Patrol Craft Watchman and two Razor fighters from Charlie squadron patrol around the platform ahead. After a while, the Razors turned and went to land in the hangar, as this was the scheduled time to "change the guard". Almost before the Razors had set down; however, several signatures emerged from hyperspace almost directly between the Mobquets and the station. At first, Tay thought they were merely company contacts arriving to deliver cargo. But when she cycled through the ships on her Heads-Up-Display, she found seven R-41 Starchasers, four Y-Wings, two Cargo Ferries and a Marauder Corvette. For only two relatively light freighters, the escort seemed overkill. The platform hailed them immediately: "Unidentified craft, you have entered Kalrich Company space. State your intentions." The response sent a chill down Tay's spine. "Just shut down your weapons and we'll resist the urge to blast everything here into oblivion!" a gruff voice barked over the radio, "Do not attempt to resist!" "Pirates!" the Mobquet captain snarled over the open channel. "Echo 1, you and your wingman stay with the Mobquets! Don't attack unless forced to!" the station administrator told Kam, "We're dispatching fighters to handle these raiders. Hopefully they won't go after you." Even as the administrator was speaking, the two young Z-95 pilots realized the pirates were not about to exempt them from the action. One of the cargo ferries, along with two of the R-41s, were now turning toward them. The whole pirate group had quickly moved between the Mobquets and the platform already, so there was no way any friendly craft would reach them in time. "Uh, negative sir." Kam replied, "It looks like they're gunna go after the Mobquets. We'll keep them occupied; don't worry about us." Ignoring any further orders from the platform, Kam radioed Tay to take up position beside him and get ready for battle. As the pirate R-41s drew closer, the two teens felt their hearts begin to race; this was the first time they'd actually be in a real dogfight. "Let's do that maneuver we pulled against Rahlik and Yenni in the simulators the other day!" Kam suggested, "I'll go high, you go low." "Okay." Tay replied in a nervous, yet excited voice. As the craft were about to enter weapon range, the two Z-95 pilots suddenly dumped all their laser and shield energy into their engines, giving the old fighters extra speed. The R-41s opened fire with linked laser and ion cannons, but the Z-95s split up before they could be hit, zooming above and below the R-41s, juking and spinning as they did. Neither pirate managed to hit its intended target, having been surprised by the move. Using the better agility of the Z-95s, Kam and Tay managed to get on the tails of the R-41s fairly quickly, after-which they transferred energy back to their shields and lasers. But these pirates were no novices. The R-41 Kam had locked onto began jinking and spinning like crazy, causing the old starfighter to become a frustrating target to hit. Kam cursed to himself as he kept missing the pirate, although a few shots did manage to connect. Tay fared little better. As she began to blast the pirate fighter, the pilot suddenly throttled down to one-third speed, giving his ship a quicker turning circle. Although this relatively simple maneuver had been used against her in the simulators numerous times, Tay was hesitant to react, the thrill and terror of battle working against her. By the time she followed suit, the R-41 had already gotten well out of danger and was now working on getting off some shots of his own. The two twisted and turned back and forth for several minutes, each managing to hit the other a couple times. But due to the slightly weaker shields of the Z-95, and heavier armament of the R-41, Tay had suffered worse that her pirate counter-part. With her shields already practically gone, she decided it would be better to use that energy to increase the speed of her ship, rather than recharge the naturally porous shields and slow herself down. So that's just what she did. As she began to calm, she also flew better, and soon she had the R-41 in her crosshairs again. The pirate attempted every evasive maneuver he could, but Tay kept him in front of her, and began picking away at the shields. Meanwhile, Kam had weaned his target's shields down over time. The pilot, realizing he needed something to give him an edge, turned and worked toward the cargo ferry, hoping its laser turrets would distract Kam long enough for him to get his craft turned around to face the Z-95. Kam, who was much cooler under pressure than Tay had been, noticed the tactic, and was determined to blast the pirate to space dust before he could reach the armed freighter. With his laser recharge on full, he pounded the raider with everything he had, not letting up or allowing the R-41 to pull a fast one on him. The R-41 pilot cried out over the radio in dismay, as his ship erupted into a ball of flames, just barely out of the range of the pirate freighter's cannons. As Kam shouted victoriously over the radio, Tay just about had her target dead to rights. As good as the R-41 pilot was, he couldn't overcome the inferior manueverability of his vessel. Just before Tay sent the final blast, the pirate ejected out of his ship, barely avoiding getting incinerated in the resulting explosion. "Got yours too? Alright! No pirates are a match for us!" Kam boasted over an open channel. "We've still got a problem." Tay deadpanned, as she targeted the threatening Cargo Ferry on her HUD. "Right. We'll take him from the same side, so that it has to divide its defensive fire." Now finally recharging her shields, Tay joined up with Kam and they began to fly toward the pirate freighter, which by now, had just reached the Mobquets and was firing at them. Directing their shields to the front of their craft, Tay and Kam began to make short runs at the vessel, slowly working down its shields, but also taking hits themselves. Because of the fragility of the Z-95, they could only manage to get a couple shots in at a time before being forced to veer off. The pirate craft finally broke off its attack on the Mobquets and began to withdraw. Kam and Tay continued to cautiously harass it until it jumped to light-speed. With the threat to the Mobquets alleviated, Kam and Tay turned their attention to the battle taking place at the platform. The Marauder was exchanging fire with the platform and SPC Watchman, while Razor fighters were busy dueling with the R-41s and Y-Wings. A friendly Xiytiar Transport had joined the fray, along with a couple of Muurians launched from the base. The second pirate Cargo Ferry was nowhere to be seen, so it could be concluded that it had already been destroyed. Regardless, the raiders didn't relent in their attack and the Watchman was forced to fall back due to heavy hull damage. Tay was tempted to fly to the platform and try to help, but the Mobquet captain prevented that, reminding her that her job was to protect the freighters. The two teens and the Mobquet crews watched helplessly as the battle reached its bloody conclusion. The Kalrich Razors managed to deal with the raiding Y-Wings, and had taken out all but two of the R-41s, but at the cost of four of their own fighters destroyed and a fifth disabled. With its starfighter escort gone, the Marauder decided to retreat, but not before destroying the Xiytiar and several cargo containers on the way out. The surviving R-41s also withdrew. Although the attack had been repelled, the pirates had left a mess behind and managed to kill almost a dozen Kalrich employees. Regardless, it didn't do much to dampen Kam and Tay's high spirits. As soon as the last pirate was gone, the station administrator addressed everyone over an open channel: "Good work gentlemen; you've managed to defeat a very dangerous pirate band. We identified that Marauder as the Queen's Revenge, a notorious buccaneer ship that has raided and plundered several bases on this side of the galaxy. Those guys were no amateurs. I'd especially like to commend Echo group on their superb job in their first combat engagement." Several of the other pilots and captains congratulated the two young flyers, who were beaming with pride within their cockpits. "You're both cleared to land on the platform for rest and repairs. Charlie group has control of the situation now." A few minutes later, the two had set down in the platform's fighter hangar. Tay had landed first, so by the time Kam got out of his fighter, she was already charging toward him, helmet off and joyous smile plastered on her face. "Awesome flying bud!" she exclaimed, giving him an overzealous high-five. "You didn't do so bad yourself." Kam replied. As the two began chatting ecstatically, one of the station officers arrived in the hangar and walked over to them. "Fine work out there kids." he commended them, "The administrator has sent a full report of the battle to Mr. Kalrich, I have no doubt he'll be very proud of you both." "Thank you, sir." they both answered almost simultaneously. A half-hour later, they were relaxing in one of the platform's employee lounges, drinking soda, eating processed junk-food and chatting with other pilots and employees. For the two of them, they couldn't feel any higher than they did now... KALRICH CO. HEADQUARTERS - EISEN KALRICH'S OFFICE Eisen Kalrich, founder, owner and CEO of Kalrich Shipping Company, sighed deeply as he read over the report. It was a fine display of fighting spirit by his workers, but it also cost the eleven lives. As a businessman, though, sometimes cold decisions were something he had to make often, but he always grieved when any of his employees lost their lives. Unlike many of his rivals, he truly cared about the people that worked for him, and he never wanted to see them harmed. No doubt he'd have to write a few letters or make a few visits to widowed spouses and children who had just lost a parent. He perhaps took on more stress than he needed to, but he felt it was necessary to show his concern for the wellbeing of his workers, and it did return a net-positive for him. Kalrich Co. employees were very loyal, with few voluntarily leaving the company. Looking up from the report, the plump, dark-skinned human faced his security chief: Drosk Vorad, a cold, hard-nosed Mandalorian mercenary, whom he had signed onto his payroll two years before, in the face of an increasingly unstable galaxy. Vorad had turned the undisciplined and clueless security staff of the company into at least some semblance of a professional defense force. But his emotionless, often cruel demeanor also meant few employees liked him personally, although he did have the respect of most. "The Queen's Revenge." Kalrich muttered, "Just one more problem we're going to have to deal with. It seems as though the war is only making piracy blossom!" "The naval warships are too tied down with fighting the enemy fleet to maintain order within their own space, much less patrol neutral territory like ours." Drosk observed flatly, "We're on our own, sir. I think we need to strengthen our security forces." "It's going to be expensive enough to replace the losses from this attack, much less recruit new crewmen and pilots to replace the deceases ones." Kalrich dismayed, "I only have a little bit of budget space open for expansion." Glaring intently into Drosk's eyes, the CEO continued: "I'll leave you with what I can to improve our security as you see fit. But I can only give you so much to work with. We're a shipping company, not a militia." "You'll be a bankrupt shipping company if we continue to lose assets at the rate we have." Drosk shot back coldly, "You know what must be done." Eisen Kalrich sighed again and nodded his head soberly. He knew what must be done.
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