About: Dawnbreaker Episode Split Destiny/Part 7   Sponge Permalink

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TATOOINE, MOS EISLEY SETTLEMENT, FOUR HOURS LATER One of the many motels within the city... Liyan's room. "Mmm... you know, foxy... I like to think of myself as insatiable, but you are simply..." - he paused, searching for the appropriate attribute. "Yes?" - Deathstrike prompted in a purring hiss. "You're a fiend, bad girl!" - Liyan finally groaned exhaustedly, grinning and pulling her close, and kissing her in the neck, while inventorying his myriad bruises, scratches, and small contusions suffered during their... coupling. Her reddish-emerald eyes blazed, as she whispered lustfully: Liyan nodded.

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  • Dawnbreaker Episode Split Destiny/Part 7
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  • TATOOINE, MOS EISLEY SETTLEMENT, FOUR HOURS LATER One of the many motels within the city... Liyan's room. "Mmm... you know, foxy... I like to think of myself as insatiable, but you are simply..." - he paused, searching for the appropriate attribute. "Yes?" - Deathstrike prompted in a purring hiss. "You're a fiend, bad girl!" - Liyan finally groaned exhaustedly, grinning and pulling her close, and kissing her in the neck, while inventorying his myriad bruises, scratches, and small contusions suffered during their... coupling. Her reddish-emerald eyes blazed, as she whispered lustfully: Liyan nodded.
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Title
  • Dawnbreaker: Split Destiny
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  • TATOOINE, MOS EISLEY SETTLEMENT, FOUR HOURS LATER One of the many motels within the city... Liyan's room. "Mmm... you know, foxy... I like to think of myself as insatiable, but you are simply..." - he paused, searching for the appropriate attribute. "Yes?" - Deathstrike prompted in a purring hiss. "You're a fiend, bad girl!" - Liyan finally groaned exhaustedly, grinning and pulling her close, and kissing her in the neck, while inventorying his myriad bruises, scratches, and small contusions suffered during their... coupling. Her reddish-emerald eyes blazed, as she whispered lustfully: "M-hm. When I... want... someone, Liyan... I do not stop... until he begs for mercy!" - suddenly pinning him to the bed, driving the nails of her left hand into his skin, almost hard enough to pierce it, before she started to edge downward again, as she thought: "Okay! Okay... mercy! Ohh... enough pain for one day, sweetie! I'm worn out..." - he growled in a mock-suffering tone, rolling her over, before he added: "I'll probably have cramps all day tomorrow!" - slowly getting up and heading to the refresher. "Well... your fault for not being in better shape, smuggler-boy! Next time, I won't be this restrained..." - Deathstrike grinned playfully, stretching out. "Restrained?!" - Liyan asked incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief. "Indeed... or you would be so tired now you wouldn't be able to stand, my dear." - she hissed, giving him a long hooded gaze. "Sounds like a challenge to me, bad girl... and I accept! Next time, I'll wear you out!" - Liyan growled, mock-menacingly. "You promise that?" - Deathstrike asked with a smile. "Absolutely!" - he replied, before walking out to the refresher. "I look forward to it... even if I have my doubts whether you'll be able to keep that promise!" - she thought, lying there for a few seconds more, before she suddenly hopped lightly back to her feet, not the slightest trace of fatigue in her movements, and getting dressed. Twenty-five minutes later... The two of them are walking down one of the town's streets, toward the house of Tarok Essa, a Zabrak information broker, and one of Liyan's contacts on the planet, who was supposed to know everything happening on the planet, and have the information about the Recluse Deathstrike was looking for. "You're certain he can be trusted?" - Deathstrike inquired dubiously, before adding: "In several of my assignments, I've dealt with information brokers... and found out that their reliability is only dependent on the amount of credits you slip into their pocket - and sometimes not even them, if someone else offered them more, to mislead you!" - in a scornful tone. Liyan nodded. "True. But he's an old friend, and more to the point, he... owes me a favor. Several, actually. Not to mention he knows me well enough to know how well I take to being scammed!" - in a menacing voice, while cracking his knuckles. "I see... I hope for his sake he doesn't find out the hard way, then!" - Deathstrike smiled at that, thinking: Suddenly, a faint, but unmistakable odor caught her attention... the Necry'gor wine aroma. She tensed slightly, looking around, one hand slipping under her commoner jacket to grip the hilt of one of her vibroblades. "So... my two cantina playmates have finally decided to make their move. And they still reek of Necry'gor, just as I predicted... excellent! I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me, my assassin friends." - she thought, eyes glittering in anticipation of the battle to come. "Heh... smell that? Looks like someone had too much to drink..." - Liyan commented. "M-hm. And I know exactly who that someone is... be prepared!" - Deathstrike replied in a whisper, her tone now focused, yet anticipating. "What do you mean?" - Liyan asked, looking around himself, his hand dropping to his blaster holster. "Remember the cantina? And the two hooded ones enjoying their Necry'gor in the corner booth?" - she answered with a question. Liyan frowned, before nodding his understanding of Deathstrike's unspoken implication. "I see... your work, to mark them when they pounce? Smart... nobody else here'd waste their money on something as expensive as a Necry'gor." - he said quietly, drawing his blaster. "Exactly... expensive and with intense aroma." - Deathstrike nodded, still throughly surveying the street. It was twilight, and the street was semi-lit from the few light-posts along its sides. A few passerby were in evidence, none paying any particular attention to the two. However, the plentiful shadows in the alleyways between the various houses offered a lot of places for an effective ambush... a fact that, to Deathstrike's trained eyes, was slightly more visible than blindingly obvious. She stirred, before muttering: "Let's not make it easy for them... we shall split up. Keep going down the street toward the Zabrak's house, but stay as much to the center of the street as you can, and try to use the passersby for cover as you walk. Don't hurry, and don't keep your hand too close to the blaster - but not too far, either." "Great... I'll be the bait! And while I'm playing a target for them, what'll you be doing?" - Liyan asked sarcastically, taking another casual, but thorough look around. Deathstrike's eyes began to blaze with that manic intensity, as she hissed: "Killing people." Liyan turned back toward Deathstrike, but she wasn't there anymore... except a trace of a moving shadow in the nearby lamp-post's light caught his eye, vanishing behind one of the houses in the street. With a wicked chuckle, he moved on, thinking: ~~ "You two keep an eye on the smuggler, and take him out when you have a clear shot... we'll deal with that schutta!" - the human assassin from the cantina spoke into the commlink, addressing the two other accomplices they summoned for this ambush. "Got it." - came back from the link, before it went dead. "What now?" - the Twi'lek assassin asked. "We'll try to lure her deeper in the alleys... then flank her before attacking together. You stay down here, I'll use the rooftops." - the human replied, drawing his silenced holdout blaster. The Twi'Lek woman nodded, doing the same, before vanishing down the alley. He slung a rope over one of the buildings' balconies and climbed up, making his way to the roof. "What I can't seem to figure out is how did she guess we're nearby..." - the assassin thought, frowning in confusion, while he made his way to the next rooftop. ~~ Meanwhile, Deathstrike had entered one of the buildings... a large warehouse filled with storage crates, and plenty of junk on the floors. She slightly kicked one of the metallic debris, and a soft clatter echoed around the wide space. "Good... this place has a pronounced echo. Any sound will be amplified, and I shall have advance warning if they enter." - she thought, proceeding silently, and reflecting how quickly this would have been over already, if she had the Force at her disposal. "Well... all the better! It has been quite some time since I had to rely solely on my training and ingenuity, against someone who has most of the same skills I do... too long, in fact. This shall serve as an excellent exercise to maintain my proficiency!" - she added a thought with a smile. "Now, just to lure them over here..." - she muttered to herself softly, before noticing a brightly lit section of the hallway, next to one of the warehouse's windows, lit by a functioning glow panel. "That will do..." - she thought, quickly stepping into the brightly lit spot, certain that her silhuette would be visible to anyone watching from that general direction from the outside. As soon as she was in full glare of the panel, she moved on, making it seem as if she accidentally passed beside the window... not wanting to arouse even the slightest suspicion that it was a trick. Climbing one of the storage crates in the center of the wide area, she settled in to wait. "If they saw me, they should be moving in within minutes... assuming they fall for it. I wouldn't... but given their numerical superiority, they just might get overconfident! And if not - if they decide to wait me out, I'll have the initiative, since their attention will be on this warehouse. I could slip out via the roof, and come up from behind them..." - Deathstrike's gaze falling on one of several ceiling swing-out windows, and the many railings and support struts, any one of which could be used for climbing, at least by someone of her athletic prowess. ~~ "Heh... amateur!" - the Twi'Lek assassin thought, lip twisting in contempt, as she peered around a nearby corner, noticing Deathstrike's slim silhuette in the reflection of the glow panel. She opened her commlink: "I've marked her... the big warehouse." "Got it... take the doors, I'll climb down from the roof windows. We've got her! What's the status of our backup?" - the Human asked. "They just reported in... saying they can't get a clear shot at the smuggler." - the Twi'lek replied. "Nevermind him... we can take him out later if we want! Call them back to your position to monitor the warehouse as we move in, just in case she tries to slip out." - the Human said. "Understood. Out." - the Twi'Lek signed off. ~~ Three minutes later... Suddenly, Deathstrike could see a slightly darker shadow passing over one of the roof windows. Smiling tightly to herself, she aimed one of the blaster pistols she "acquired" back at Anchorhead. "So... you took the bait! Just give me a clear shot, my dear..." - before an echo of a soft metallic clatter drew her attention. "No... if I shoot now, I'll expose myself to the second one! Looks like they're trying to flank me... one coming in from above, one from the main entrance. Not a bad plan... if I weren't aware of your approach! But, since I am... I can deal with you one at a time!" - hopping lightly down from her chosen crate to the floor, and making her stealthy way in the direction of the warehouse entrance, using the crates for cover, and being very careful not to accidentally kick over any piece of debris. A sudden brief metallic clack was her only warning... ...but for Deathstrike, that was more than enough. Even as she leaped aside in a roll, a blaster bolt flashed from above to impact the ground beside her. Coming back to her feet, she snapped off a shot to the source, catching a brief glimpse of her assailant, ducking back from the roof window, armed with a sniper blaster rifle, before she took cover behind one of the other crates. "Sniper cover! Looks like I underestimated them... they must have decided to focus only on me, leaving Liyan alone! I must stay in the shadows as much as possible..." - as she flattened against the side of the storage crate. Suddenly, more flashes of blaster fire could be seen through the roof windows... as Liyan made his own ambush on the rooftop snipers. Deathstrike smiled at this, thinking: "Your timing could not be better if you tried, Liyan!" - just as a sudden shadow fell over the side of her crate... ...followed by a sudden, hard blow to her side, as the Twi'Lek assassin took advantage of Deathstrike's preoccupation with the sniper to gain position on her. Even as she sprawled to the floor, the Twi'Lek was already lining her holdout blaster on Deathstrike. Even as she fired, however, Deathstrike was no longer there... arching off the floor in a sudden, convulsive snap, carrying her to the side and back on her feet in a sinuous motion, with the blast passing centimeters beneath her. As the Twi'Lek shifted her aim, she only had time to frown in dismay as one of Deathstrike's vibroblades came slashing through her gun, bisecting it cleanly. "Nice try, schutta..." - Deathstrike intoned ominously. "You've only made things worse... you're no match for me in melee combat!" - the Twi'Lek snapped back, dropping to a crouch while unsheathing a slender vibrosword from her back. "We shall see, won't we?" - Deathstrike replied, adopting a similar posture, both the vibroblades now out and ready, as she thought: The Twi'lek suddenly crouched low, sweeping her sword in an economical horisontal slash at Deathstrike's waist. Deathstrike easily intercepted the blow, using both her vibroblades to trap the sword, as her right foot shot out to connect with the Twi'Lek's chin. However, the Twi'Lek anticipated, dodging aside, while releasing the sword and spinning in a backspin kick to kick one of Deathstrike's vibroblades out of her left hand, before again grabbing the sword, and trying a vicious uppercut at Deathstrike's own chin. Deathstrike simply took one measured step back, the blade of the sword passing centimeters in front of her, before she shifted her second vibroblade in a backhand grip, and spun around, again taking a step forward, and anticipating her opponent's follow-up attack - a stabbing move aimed at her chest. The tip of the sword passed by her, as she used her vibroblade to deflect it, at the same time as the heel of her left foor connected hard with the side of the Twi'Lek's right knee, who was also taking a step forward to match Deathstrike's earlier pull-back, and could not shift her knee out of the way in time. As a soft crack of splintered bone is heard, the alien began falling sideways to the left with a shriek of pain... making the follow-up kick to her left temple Deathstrike threw that much more effective, rendering her unconscious before she hit the floor, and lay unmoving there. Just as Deathstrike kicked the sword out of her hand, a sudden motion in her peripheral vision made her spin around... ...just in time for a thrown assassin knife to miss her spine, instead imbedding itself in her wrist, and sending her second vibroblade flying from her other hand. "Ow!" - she grunted, instinctively rolling aside to avoid any follow-up attack... ...from the second assassin, a Human, just joining the fight. "Now... things are about to get complicated." - was her thought in a flash. Gritting her teeth, she pulled the knife from her wrist with her left hand, not making a sound, as the man was aiming his holdout blaster at her - and throwing it back at him. He twisted aside, easily anticipating, but the attack did throw off his aim, as his blast passed beside Deathstrike. Before she could return the favor, as she was reaching inside her jacket for one of the blasters, he was on her... with a back-hammer kick to her stomach that dropped her to the floor, immediately drawing his own vibrosword and bringing it down in a flash to skewer her in two... "Yessss.... PAIN!" - Deathstrike reveled, teeth bared in delight, as she twisted aside to evade the sword, simultaneously attempting a quick spin-kick to his side... which was intercepted and trapped, as the assassin anticipated her move, before applying leverage to her foot, in an attempt to break her ankle. Deathstrike instinctively pivoted with the twisting motion of the assassin, relieving the torque pressure on her ankle, while using the momentum of the twist to add power to the heel kick to the man's jaw with her other foot. The kick connected this time, and the assassin staggered sideways, before she tried to follow through with a one-two combination of piercing palm strikes to the solar plexus and the nose - a finishing move. However, the assassin deflected the first strike, before dropping halfway into a crouch, dodging the second one, and snapping the hinge of his own left palm to connect with the nerve cluster just above her right hip, the strategic blow momentarily paralyzing her right leg. "Nngggh!" - Deathstrike howled, before the assassin suddenly traversed to his other leg, still maintaining his half-crouch, as the heel of his left foot connected with Deathstrike's temple in a devastating back-hammer strike, making a hairline fracture in her eyesocket, and sending her flying to slam against one of the other storage crates. "This one is GOOD!" - she thought in a flash, as her vision darkened, and she had to fight to stay conscious past the billowing black haze in her head. Acting purely on adrenaline, she dodged, a half-second before the man's follow-up attack, a crushing elbow-strike to her windpipe, which would have ended the contest, could connect, before barely managing to duck a snap-kick to her other temple, which would have definitely rendered her unconscious. Deathstrike fell back, twisting, blocking, dodging, and parrying a relentless flurry of ultra-fast attacks from the assassin, now on the full defensive. The assassin's level of proficiency in martial arts was impressive, providing a level of challenge she did not face for years. As the duel continued for a dozen minutes, and the assassin landed a few more strikes, while she failed to even make a dent in his form and stance, it was becoming increasingly clear that the contest could end only one way. Only her impressive flexibility and penchant for evasion was keeping her from getting cornered and overwhelmed. "I can't... keep this up much longer! He's as fast as I am, while stronger, and some of the moves he has are unlike anything I've ever seen! Some sort of Echani form, I think... VERY advanced! He seems to be anticipating me several moves in advance... If only I could draw on the Force..." - she thought in desperation, beginning to tire, while falling back, before she scrambled to climb one of the other storage crates, momentarily giving her some breathing room - before she noticed the crate she was on was placed directly next to the wall, leaving her with nowhere else to go. "Give up, Sith... your Teras Kasi won't save you from me." - the man intoned, in a stone-cold dispassionate voice, not a trace of strain evident in it, another throwing knife suddenly in his hand. Deathstrike stood there, trembling with fatigue, staring wide-eyed at the assassin, knowing it was over... "Who... who ARE you?!" - she breathed in disbelief, not really expecting an answer. Even as the man was about to throw the knife at her, Liyan's voice echoed from the roof: "I wouldn't! Drop it before I put a hole in your back!" For a moment seemingly frozen in time, the man stood there motionless, Deathstrike holding her breath... before he dropped the knife, and lowered his hand. In a flash, he darted to the shadow of one of the other crates, even as Liyan's shot impacted the floor where he just was. Taking advantage, Deathstrike was already off the crate, anticipating a surprise attack... but none came. Moments later, Liyan's voice came again: "He's out of the warehouse! I just saw him running down the street..." "Let him go... it's over!" - Deathstrike called out, trying to keep her voice steady, as she thought: "Impressive... his martial skill was on the level of the Master! I wouldn't have believed it possible..." - approaching the Twi'Lek, now starting to return to consciousness, cradling her shattered knee. "Who is he?" - she asked the Twi'lek woman. "Wouldn't you like to know..." - the assassin mocked, before Deathstrike grabbed her by the throat in a chokehold, one knee pressing hard just below the Twi'Lek's chest, depriving her of breath. "I won't ask you again, schutta." - she growled, tightening the grip. "You'll... kill me anyway, won't you? Why... should I... tell you... anything?" - the Twi'lek groaned, trying to break free, and failing. "That depends... if you tell me now, I won't. If you make me... truly... interrogate you, I shall. You would tell me anyway, and afterwards, I WOULD kill you. Your choice. But trust me... no-one I have ever interrogated survived, or failed to tell me what I wanted to know!" - Deathstrike intoned ominously. Looking into her reddish hued green eyes, the Twi'Lek woman couldn't help but flinch, also remembering the other assassin's statement... "Are you... really... a Sith?" - she stammered. "Yes." - Deathstrike hissed. "Alright! Alright... I'll tell you what I know! But it's not much..." - the Twi'Lek groaned, before Deathstrike eased the knee pressure, and the chokehold... somewhat. The Twi'Lek took a shuddering breath: "Nobody in our organisation knew much about him - he came in only about a month ago, at Gardula's personal invitation. But I overheard him talking to Gardula once, and he said something about being trained by the Echani and some species called the Noghri..." - the Twi'Lek continued, but Deathstrike was no longer listening, as she thought, eyes going remote: "You said... you wouldn't kill me..." - the Twi'lek's voice intruded into her thoughts. Deathstrike focused on her again, noting with some surprise that she was still holding her pressed down to the floor. She nodded. "I did... and I'll keep my word. You will live." - suddenly standing up, before adding: "If you ever try and attack me again, however... you will wish I had killed you now." - in a vicious hiss, eyes blazing. The Twi'Lek woman nodded, limping away, as she replied in a shaky voice: "You'll never see me again... I promise!" Deathstrike didn't reply, instead leaning against the side of the storage crate, as the adrenaline began to wear off. Minutes later, Liyan climbed down from the roof and entered the warehouse. "Got to hand it to you, Sith girl... I didn't think you'd actually let her go!" - he commented dryly. "She was cooperative... and I did promise to spare her beforehand. Besides, she fought well enough for a common Hutt-hired assassin." - Deathstrike muttered exhaustedly, making up a plausible excuse, but adding to herself: "Looked like that guy almost had you there for a moment." - Liyan's voice snapped her out of her line of thoughts. "He did." - Deathstrike admitted quietly, as they walked out of the warehouse, suddenly turning to face Liyan again, and adding in an earnest tone: "You saved my life, Liyan." He gazed back for a pair of seconds, before smiling: "Hey, all in a day's work! Besides, consider it payback for your help back at Mon Cal... you probably saved the lives of a whole lot of us when those fishies had us pinned down there, bad girl!" "Perhaps..." - Deathstrike replied, holding his gaze for a few seconds more, before they continued on their way to Tarok's house, as she used a piece of cloth soaked in water to bandage her bleeding wrist. Liyan noticed it, as well as taking in the numerous bruises she took during the fight with the assassin. "Hey, is it bad? Maybe we should stop by the med station first?" "Don't worry, I've had worse even in training sessions! It pierced directly through, without even damaging the artery. None of these others are even worth mentioning... Let's talk to your contact first..." - she replied, not entirely truthfully, as she could acutely feel the slight fracture at the site of the assassin's devastating kick to her temple, as well as the latent slight pain in her still incompletely healed shoulder. "After this, I will need some work, though..." - she thought. "Okay... if you say so." - Liyan nodded, not entirely convinced. Soon, the two reached Tarok Essa's home. Meanwhile, in Gardula the Hutt's stronghold, Jaden was captured, and was at the moment in the same dank, dark holding cell as the child he came for to rescue. "What's going to happen to us, mister?" - the little girl asked, crying quietly. "Sshhh... be brave. We'll get out of here, that's a promise!" - he replied reassuringly, closely inspecting every corner of their cell. Suddenly, he noticed a relatively narrow opening in a rock, above his head, where he could barely reach it As he passed a palm of his hand in front of it, he could feel a breeze, indicating the hole was the entrance to a tunnel, with the exit on the other end. "Hmm..." - he mused, thinking: "This hole is too small for me to crawl through, but..." - his gaze falling on the little girl. "Come here for a second, alright?" - he called softly. As the girl approached, he crouched next to her and pointed to the hole. "Up there? I think that leads outside. Do you think you can get through there?" "Do I have to? It looks so dark!" - the girl sniffed. "It'll be dark just for a few seconds, until you get out on the other side, alright? But if you can do that, you can get us out of here! Look there... see that lever?" - Jaden asked, now pointing through the barred doors to a nearby lever, imbedded in a rock, and connected to a chain. "Yes?" "Pull it down, and these doors will open. Then we can both get out of this dark place!" - Jaden winked at her. "What if that pig-man sees me?" - the girl asked, referring to the Gammorrean guard who passed by at regular intervals. "He won't come for a few minutes more... that's why you need to be quick, you know? And when he comes, I'll take care of him!" - Jaden replied, as he was timing the guard's passage for the past hour, and knew the exact intervals by now. "Oh, okay... okay, I can do this!" - the girl exclaimed. "That's the spirit! Here we go..." - Jaden nodded, lifting the girl up to the tunnel entrance. "I'm in!" - the girl said. "Alright... don't be scared, and just crawl to the end of the tunnel. It shouldn't be long..." - Jaden assured her. "I see the other end!" - the girl's voice came back. Moments later, the girl crawled out, finding herself in the cave hallway where the holding cells were. Looking around, she ran back to the lever in front of their cell. "Good work! Now just pull it down as hard as you can!" - Jaden said. Grabbing the lever with both hands, the girl leaned against it. With a creak, it moved down slowly, as the cell doors began sliding aside. "Nnnh... it won't go anymore!" - the girl exclaimed before the lever was halfway down, clearly not able to pull it all the way. "Don't worry, that's enough." - Jaden replied, squeezing through the narrow opening. A minute later, the guard arrived on it's round, and Jaden had his hands full before he managed to overpower an armed Gamorrean with no weapons of his own, while the girl stayed hidded in the meantime. "You okay, mister? Is the bad pig-man gone?" - she peeled with concern, as Jaden limped back to her, bleeding from several cuts an bruises, now armed with the guard's axe. "I'm okay... the bad pig-man will never scare you again!" - Jaden groaned, trying to keep pain out of his voice, with a smile, as they both proceeded out of the cell block. ~~ Two hours later, Mos Eisley spaceport... Liyan's ship, a modified YT2400 transport, was just lifting off the landing pad, Liyan and Deathstrike aboard. "So, you're sure that Force user Tarok told us about isn't the Recluse? How?" - he asked. Deathstrike hissed irritably at that. "Trust me, Liyan... there is only one man I know, stupidly idealistic enough to try something like that..." - with an involuntary smile. "Sounds like something a Jedi would do, actually..." - Liyan mused. "Good guess." - Deathstrike nodded. Liyan looked at her incredulously. "So, you're telling me you're actually going to his rescue? A Sith helping a Jedi?!" - bursting into a laugh. Hissing between her teeth, Deathstrike growled: "BELIEVE ME, I don't want to... but I have given some thought to this entire chain of events, and one implausibly convenient happenstance began to catch my attention." "What's that?" - Liyan inquired. "The two of us, me and the Jedi, always had to work together to accomplish whichever... test... the Recluse devised for us. Escaping the cave, traversing the desert... until we split up." - she mused thoughtfully. "So?" - Liyan prompted. Deathstrike's eyes flashed. "So... I know I'm reaching... but perhaps we are required to work together to track him down. Perhaps neither of us will succeed alone. And the fact is, I have made literally no progress in tracking him down myself!" "That's a pretty big reach, in my opinion." - he retorted. "Perhaps so... but it's the one I have to explore." - Deathstrike stated with finality. "And you want me to risk my life and ship to help out in this insane stunt to break the Jedi-boy and the little brat out of Gardula's hotbox?!" - Liyan demanded. "Yes." - Deathstrike replied softly, giving him a hooded gaze from the copilot's seat. "Why should I?" - he asked varily, fidgeting slightly in his seat. Deathstrike smiled seductively. Slipping out of her seat with catlike grace, she moved to stand behind his seat, hugging him and whispering in his ear: "Mmm... because I need you, my dear." - as she started kissing him, her left hand slipping slowly to the back of his neck, the thumb now positioned directly over the spine, the index and middle fingers moving to softly grab the side of his neck, right hand following suit from the other side, both thumbs now positioned at the exact same location, above the spine pressure point, as she began to massage his neck... "Ahh... that feels so good..." - he muttered, little realizing that this exact posture would allow her to instantly effect a thumb pressure-snap of his neck, in less than a second. "It's supposed to... so... will you help me?" - she purred in his ear, kissing him again. "Ahh... you make it SO hard to say no, bad girl..." - Liyan growled arousedly, before adding: "Okay... you're on! Let's break the Jedi out. But you owe me one..." "Thank you, Liyan... I knew I could count on you!" - Deathstrike whispered, again kissing him, before returning to her seat, while thinking, with intense relief: ~~ Somewhere in the bowels of Gardula's stronghold... Jaden and the little girl have made their way out of the prison section, avoiding the patrols and search parties that were already being dispatched after them. Jaden's priority task was to find an usable vehicle, to escape the stronghold's grounds. However, every hangar and vehicle garage they came across was sealed, guarded, or both. Finally, realizing the futility of the effort, he decided to make it for the topside of the massive excavated complex, and try to send an emergency signal using the stronghold's communications array, counting on the assumption that they wouldn't anticipate that move on his part. "Don't even think about it!" - he exclaimed, aiming with the blaster rifle he appropriated from one of the guards he overpowered before, addressing the comm station's technicians, and the two thugs guarding it, whose hands were reaching for their blasters. The guards froze, raising empty hands. After disarming and restraining them, adhering to his earlier decision to resort to lethal force only when necessary, partly to avoid exposing the little girl to that kind of violence, Jaden approached the head communications tech: "I want you to send a broadcast message on a New Republic frequency. I'll tell you what will it contain." "Heh... you really think you're gettin' out of here alive, Jedi?! Save yourself the hassle and give up... the boss just might let you live!" - the tech sneered at him. Placing the barrel of his blaster rifle under the man's chin, Jaden growled angrily: "If I were you, I'd worry about my own health right now... do as I say, or I'll just ask someone else, after taking you out!" "Okay! Okay... just a second." - the tech replied, typing at the console, but also surreptitiously pressing a concealed button with his knee - a silent alarm, alerting the throne room to the location of the escapees. "Go ahead, Jedi..." - he finally said. Jaden recited the message, a simple call for extraction, before the tech sent it. ~~ "We have them, Boss!" - a thug lieutenant came to Gardula's throne room. "Where are they? I trust they have not escaped me?!" - Gardula boomed. "Not a chance... they're at the main comm station! The Jedi's probably trying to contact someone to get them out from above." - the thug replied. Gardula laughed sinisterly: "The Jedi are such insufferable optimists! Good... that will work to our advantage. Take your men and seize them there! And have our turbolaser cannon emplacements start charging - just in case his signal has been received by someone. But I doubt anyone on my planet would be so foolish to defy me like that!" The thug nodded, pulling out his commlink and contacting his team, before he left the throne room. ~~ En-route to Gardula's stronghold, approximately halfway there by now, Liyan's ship's communications array picked up Jaden's signal. "Hey, come look at this, Deathstrike..." - Liyan muttered, frowning, as the status board indicated a reception of a signal on a New Republic frequency. "Who could be transmitting on a New Rep channel here?" - his frown deepening, as he accessed the message. "Yes? What's happening?" - Deathstrike replied, coming back to the cockpit. "See for yourself... looks like that Jedi and the brat are still alive, and need a lift!" - Liyan pointed at the screen. "So... he couldn't get himself out, and is asking for help. Perhaps I was wrong about him... but then again, he did try this rescue all by himself, and without the Force! He certainly has courage, if not common sense..." - Deathstrike reflected with a brief scowl. "Can we reply on the same channel?" - she asked. Pressing a few buttons, Liyan nodded. "Sure... go ahead." Clicking the communications switch, she began: "You know, Jedi... I could say 'I told you so'... but that would be understating the issue!" - with more than a little sarcasm. ~~ As Deathstrike's voice came from the comm station's master speaker, Jaden grimaced to himself... "Who's that, mister?" - the little girl asked. "A fri--" - he started, before quicky stopping himself with a thought: "Not a chance... we may have reached some kind of basic rapport, but she's still a Sith!" - before he finished the sentence: "Just someone I've met recently... and our way out of here." - in a reassuring tone, but adding to himself: "I hope..." Stepping to the main comm console, he switched the reception to a commlink channel, before replying: "Whatever... I take it you've got a ship, and are on the way here to get us out?" A soft chuckle could be heard from the link, before Deathstrike's chiding voice came back: "And what possible reason could I have for doing that, you idealistic Jedi fool?" - deciding to keep him on the simmering fire for a time. Rolling his eyes and keeping a firm leash on his temper, Jaden growled: "Look, I was successful! I got the child out, like I said I would, and now--" - before Deathstrike's sweetly condescending tone interrupted: "...and now you need me to come and get both of you out before that miserable Hutt's hirelings recapture you again? Hmm? Is that the approximate state of affairs at this point?" "Something like that." - Jaden ground out the sentence between clenched teeth. ~~ On the other end of the link, Liyan was grinning, before muttering to Deathstrike: "Oh, give him a break, Sith girl... can't you tell he's about ready to eat himself alive?" "Hmm? I hadn't noticed..." - she replied in a false-innocent deadpan tone, keeping her face completely straight. "Hehe... you are so... EVIL!" - Liyan chuckled. "So have I been told more than once..." - Deathstrike hissed playfully, before resuming the channel: "Thank you for clarifying your situation, Jedi. I will... consider... your request for extraction." - her tone back to sweetly condescending, before she abruptly closed the link. "Uh... you DO still want to get them out, right?" - Liyan inquired, with a slight frown now. "Of course... but I don't see the need to make it easy for him." - Deathstrike replied in a seemingly-absent, dispassionate voice, with a slight smirk, enjoying herself, as she leaned back in the copilot chair and gazed out the cockpit. "I was wrong about you, bad girl... 'evil' is an understatement!" - Liyan laughed at that, before adding: "Anyway, we should be there in about fifteen minutes... think the Jedi can hold out that long?" Deathstrike only gave a microscopic shrug, continuing to gaze outside, as she thought: "Well, guess we'll find out soon enough..." - Liyan muttered to himself, his attention back on piloting. ~~ Meanwhile, the Recluse was maintaining his Force surveillance of all the events transpiring, now on his way to the home of the little girl's family, where it was his intention to meet both Jaden and Deathstrike at the end. "End soon, the trial will." - he muttered softly to himself, sensing the progress of the extraction, taking place at the same time... ~~ "Keep running!" - Jaden shouted to the little girl, running across the stronghold's roof toward Liyan's ship, landed at the edge, as he spun around, dropping to one knee and briefly spraying fire from his blaster rifle at the handful of thugs pursuing them. His shots dropped two of them, before the rest scrambled for cover. One thug's return fire came straight at Jaden, but he anticipated, twisting aside, though one shot grazed his thigh. "Nggh!" - he grunted, scrambling up and running toward the ship again, as the little girl was already at the landing ramp. Suddenly, another thug appeared from one of the other roof entrances, taking direct aim at the girl. Even as Jaden was still bringing his blaster rifle to bear, a pair of shots from the top of the landing ramp caught the thug, sending him flying backwards in flames. "Come on, kid, MOVE!" - Liyan shouted, sheathing the still-smoking blaster and motioning the girl up the ramp, as Deathstrike was running down past the girl. "Keep running, Jaden... I will cover you!" - she shouted in Jaden's direction, crouching and aiming the pair of blasters she had since taking them from those slavers. Jaden nodded, slinging his rifle and breaking into a full sprint, as Deathstrike's shots flashed past him at the pursuing thugs. "Hmm... all she needs to do is shift her aim a little to take me down too..." - was his fleeting thought, with a brief scowl. Despite her considerably less-than-ideal aim, and wrong shooting stance, her expertise with ranged weapons between slim and none, Deathstrike's suppressive fire was enough to keep the thugs pinned for a dozen seconds Jaden needed to reach the ramp, though none of her shots reached any of the thugs. "I hope this is the LAST time I have to use these crude weapons!" - she reflected in disgust, holstering the pistols and running up the ramp after Jaden. As the ship lifted off, a pair of Supa Fighter rose from the stronghold's main hangar, and gave pursuit. "We've got company! I need someone at both turrets!" - Liyan snapped. "Understood. I'll take the ventral one. Jaden, you have the dorsal!" - Deathstrike replied, already climbing down the ladder. Nodding, Jaden followed suit, and by the time the fighters were in firing range, both of them were strapped in, and ready. The battle was intense, yet short, with both fighters being destroyed within 10 minutes, Liyan's piloting skills allowing the ship to withstand the assault long enough. "THAT was too close..." - he muttered, as Deathstrike and Jaden returned to the cockpit. Evading the tracking fire from the stronghold's defense turrets, the ship shot off into the sky. Upon bringing the child back to her family, the child's mother pointed them in the direction of the Recluse. This confirmed Deathstrike's suspicion that the rescue was, in fact, yet another of the Recluse's trials for them. Now on approach to the Recluse's hideout - a former Tusken settlement, now abandoned, Jaden turned to Deathstrike: "What do you plan to do, once we meet him?" Deathstrike looked back, an unreadable expression on her face, before she replied quietly: "I plan to make him pay." Jaden, to Deathstrike's surprise, nodded in agreement, before muttering: "Listen. I didn't like these tests any more than you did, but maybe it would be better to give him a chance to explain himself first? Although, he'd better have a REALLY good explanation..." "Perhaps... very well. I confess I'm curious as to his reasons, too." - she replied after a pause. Minutes later, the YT2400 landed at the outskirts of the settlement. Aside from abandoned huts, and a dirty rag here and there, hanging on a rope, the hot desert wind sweeping them, nothing could be seen. "Really weird place to find a Force-user..." - Liyan commented, slightly nervous, before adding: "I'll stay here and keep an eye on the ship, keep her primed for a quick takeoff... just in case. Deathstrike nodded, following Jaden down the ramp, as the two set off into the settlement. Just as they passed the first handful of huts, a Force message reached them both: The two froze, looking at one another, as a soft, strangely tangled voice came from behind them: "At last, found me, you have. With many questions, no doubt, to bring." Jaden and Deathstrike spun around, to see the Recluse, a slight, hunched figure, with large eyes, pointed ears facing sideways, and lightish-green skin. "Wasn't easy to find you, whoever you really are." - Jaden replied sarcastically, crossing his arms. "Yet, succeeded, you have. Occurred, everything has, as I have predicted." - the Recluse croaked. Jaden's rejoinder was cut off by Deathstrike, who was in no mood for vague word-play, as she stepped forward: "ENOUGH! I have no questions for you, nor do I need any. And I don't take kindly for people manipulating me for their amusement as you have! So, give me ONE reason why I should not kill you where you stand, Recluse!" - the barely-restrained fury in her tone indicating her temper was at the breaking point. Jaden leaned in at that: "Umm... you may not recognize his species, but I do. He's the same species as Master Yoda was. And if his power is anywhere near Yoda's level, as Master Skywalker described to us, you don't want to fight him, trust me...especially not without the Force." "Listen to the Jedi, you should, young Sith. And manipulate you for my amusement, I did not. A purpose to my actions, there is." - the Recluse replied to Deathstrike, while thinking: "Such as?" - Deathstrike's growling question interrupted the line of thoughts. The challenge was still in her voice, but mixed with an underlying degree of caution this time. "Obvious, I should think that is." - the Recluse replied, before continuing: "Taken you both, I have, a Sith, and a Jedi, to bring you here, to this world. All of it, to put my long-held belief to the test. To find out, I wanted, whether sworn enemies can co-exist without destroying one-another. Whether the long-held preconceptions could be discarded. Passed the test, you have."Jaden shook his head, unconvinced. "You're missing something, Recluse. We had no choice but to work together. Your little 'trials' were all designed to require both of us to overcome them." - while Deathstrike added: "And one thing more - I only cooperated with him because it served my interests. And because, unlike the common Dark Jedi and so-called Sith, I'm not a slave to the Dark Side, to let it rule my actions. I rule it, not the other way around. Otherwise, I would have most likely done what Jaden had suggested I might have done two days ago... killed him in his sleep." To the surprise of both of them, the Recluse nodded slowly. "Realize this, you may not, but Jaden Korr is quite like yourself in that regard. A slave to the Light Side, he is not, nor is his master, unlike most of the Jedi of old... my late brother Yoda included. Chosen specifically the two of you, I have, because of that precise fact. Only those with wisdom to realize that the Force is a servant, not a master, can begin to realize it's true nature." - he stated, before adding dramatically: "The Force - is one. No Light, or Dark, sides, there are." Deathstrike was the first to recover from the pronouncement, as she scoffed: "That's preposterous! If that were so, the neverending struggle between us and the Jedi would not exist!" - before Jaden added: "And the Sith wouldn't be so insanely bent on galactic domination, and to extinguish us at any and all costs!" At this, Deathstrike turned to him and replied in a scornfully hostile tone: "We wish to extinguish you because you are WEAK! And you promote weakness in those around you, by 'helping' them, taking on their challenges to yourselves, and encouraging the attitude of subservience and passivity!" "Helping one-another is not weakness! On the contrary, it's a sign of strength and integrity... you Sith only equate strength with belligrence and willful attitude! The greatest strength there is - is to live in peace with one-another!" - Jaden retorted equally forcefully. Deathstrike's face twisted in disgust at that, as she looked ready to attack Jaden, replying in a vicious hiss: "And that's PRECISELY why we loathe you so much, and why you lose the war against us... because you fail to grasp the truth, the natural order of things. An individual doesn't grow in power through peace, but through conflict! Without conflict, of whatever kind, a society withers and dies eventually, with no challenges to test it's mettle! It becomes passive, and weakens slowly, until an inevitable collapse." Jaden was about to throw a rebuttal to that, but the Recluse, silent for the past minute during the argument, interrupted: "Valid points, you both make, young ones. Which only proves my own point - the Force is one. Any distinctions we make, are the result of our own beliefs and perceptions on life." - turning to Jaden: "Deny, you cannot, that the Old Republic's demise lay in it's decadence and complacency. It had existed for too long in peace, and was ill-prepared to combat it's own deep-rooted corruption, and ultimately, war. Peace and order weakened it." "Suppose that's one way to look at it..." - Jaden admitted reluctantly. Then, the Recluse turned to Deathstrike: "Deny, you likewise cannot, that the fate of most of the Sith-dominated empires in the past was similar - turned on themselves, they have, without an outside threat to contend with." - he stated. "Perhaps they have allowed their desire for battle to rule them excessively... but that is not surprising, considering that most of those empires were not of the True Sith, but those pretenders who allow the Dark Side to rule them. We of the Reborn True Sith Empire would never be so foolish." - Deathstrike replied with conviction. The Recluse's ears raised slightly at that. "No? If no more enemies to face, you yourself, have to, what would you have done then?" - his pointed question precisely the one Deathstrike had been secretly dreading... ...and it showed on her face, her expression now becoming haunted. She opened her mouth to reply... and closed them again a second later, as she had - literally - no answer to that. She simply sighed. The Recluse regarded her silently for a dozen seconds, before speaking in a soft tone: "See, now, do you? Sometimes the answer is far more difficult than one might imagine, young one." - before he added, for both their benefit: "My point is made, I trust. Both of your respective philosophies are incorrect, and both, in themselves, lead to inevitable failure. In the case of the Jedi, their overzealousness to achieve complete peace, and lack of any form of conflict and challenge in people's lives, which leads to apathy, stagnation, and death. In the case of the Sith, their hostility and penchant for war, which would ultimately compel them to turn on one-another in the end, destroying themselves. Whether or not they are ruled by the Force, or rule it, the philosophies of both sides are constant, and misguided." - he finished the lecture, then waited for a reply from either of them. Jaden and Deathstrike looked at each other, the inescapable truth of the Recluse's words resonating with them despite their best efforts to dismiss them as outlandish. In both their minds, a new conclusion had formed - and Jaden was the first to voice it: "Is that why we are at war with one-another? Is that why this millennia-long struggle endures without end?" The Recluse nodded. "Yes. Need that balance, you both do, for it mitigates the deficiencies of both of your philosophies, and gives both of you what you need - a challenge and purpose for the Jedi, so they do not stagnate and wither, and a worthy enemy to fight for the Sith, so they do not turn on themselves." Finally, Deathstrike replied, as well. "But, it works. It gives us both what we need. For now, at least..." - as she thought: "But what will happen when we are through with the Jedi? When we have no enemy left to fight? When I have no-one left to fight..." - the last thought literally making her shudder, before adding out loud: "I assume you have a... better... way?" - in a tone alternating between forcedly-neutral and cautiously-hopeful. Now, the Recluse was silent for a time, before replying: "Spent the better part of my life, I have, in answering that question, in fact. The trial I have devised for the two of you is simply one more piece of the puzzle that is now integrated into my hypothesis. But in answer to your question - no. Not yet. Close, I have come, but more observation, I still must do." All three of them were silent for a time. "So what happens now?" - Jaden asked at last. "Restore, I will, your connection to the Force, and leave you to your business. This trial has concluded." - the Recluse replied, closing his eyes, as a silvery radiance began to emanate from his hands. Moments later, both Deathstrike and Jaden felt a surge of awareness and strength fulfill them, as the Force once again was flowing freely through them both.And in that precise moment, the Recluse simply dematerialized before their eyes, leaving only an empty space where the slight hunched figure stood a moment before. "What in--" - Jaden muttered, then sighed, and looked at Deathstrike, mentally stretching through the Force, in case she decided to attack, physically, or via the Force. She looked back at him, a thoughtful look on her face. "I should kill you right now, Jedi... yet I do not want to. Not here... not... not like this." - she muttered finally. "Same here... I don't know what to think." - Jaden admitted. "There is certainly a lot to think about, isn't there?" - Deathstrike asked rhetorically, in a distracted voice, before adding: "Let's just get out of here." - walking back toward the settlement outskirts, and Liyan's ship. "Right..." - Jaden muttered equally distractedly, following. Making their way back to the ship in silence, they approached Liyan. "About time! I was starting to think you'd have gone ahead and killed each-other!" - he grinned, then turned serious, seeing the haunted look on Deathstrike's face. "What happened, anyway? Where's the Recluse?" - he asked. "He left." - was Deathstrike's only reply as she walked past him up the ramp. "Hey! What happened?" - Liyan asked, confused. Deathstrike turned briefly to look at him, as Jaden was already inside the ship. "When I know the answer to that, I'll tell you... can we get out of here now?" - resuming her walk, and disappearing inside the ship. "Sure... whatever you say, foxy." - Liyan nodded, still curious, but realizing he wouldn't get anything else out of her for the moment. An hour later, the ship landed back at Mos Eisley. After they made their way back to Liyan's motel, Deathstrike turned to Jaden, just as she sensed an unmistakable disturbance in the Force - her Master's call through their Force link, an indication that he had sensed her, and was on his way. "Listen... you should leave this world as soon as you can. My Master is close... I have just felt his call." "You mean Lord Darkon?" - Jaden asked. "Who else? If you're still on this planet, he shall kill you." - Deathstrike replied. Jaden studied her for a moment, before asking: "I suppose it would be futile to ask you to join us?" - with an involuntary grin. "As futile as it would be for me to ask you the same question, I imagine." - Deathstrike grinned back, before turning serious and adding: "If our paths cross again, we shall be enemies, Jedi. You know that. And I won't hesitate to kill you, and fulfill my duty to the RTSE." Jaden nodded, remaining silent. Liyan cleared his throat to get their attention, before muttering: "Actually, Korr, I'll give you a lift off this rock if you want... can't say I'm too keen on coming face-to-face with Deathstrike's master any more than you are - no offense!" - smiling at Deathstrike. "None taken... but you have nothing to be concerned with there, handsome!" - she purred back. "I'm sure... but as a smuggler, trying to be inconspicuous, it wouldn't do to be known in the business as the guy who knows Lord Darkon personally, you know!" - Liyan smiled back, before adding: "Anyway, keep the room... I've paid for it already. Maybe we'll run into each-other again!" "I'm certain we will, my dear... so long!" - Deathstrike replied, already walking into the motel. "You still didn't tell me your real name, foxy!" - Liyan shouted last, just before she vanished in the doorway. Deathstrike gave him a long, hooded gaze, before replying to his mind, via Force message, while taking careful precaution to shield it from any chance of interception by Jaden: "Natalija." - before she vanished inside. "What was that all about?" - Jaden asked as they walked. "Huh? What do you mean?" - Liyan asked innocently. "She told you through the Force, didn't she? So, what is it?" - Jaden asked, but Liyan didn't reply. "Come on, smuggler! We've never been able to learn her real name!" - Jaden prompted again. "And what makes you think you ever will, Jedi?" - Liyan grinned back, walking on. As Deathstrike entered the hotel, a man stirred from his sleep in Liyan's room. The receptionist, whom he had bribed earlier with what was left of his credits into both giving him a key-card to the room and alerting him when Deathstrike returned, had activated the small remote device which beeped loud enough to awaken the man. Getting off the bed and straightening it quickly, he drew his slugthrower and ducked into the refresher, where he intended would wait for Deathstrike, and the smuggler who possessed the room, to enter. As he waited, his mind wandered back to the events that led him here. First was the Battle of Akates a year before, where he had first fought Deathstrike and barely escaped with his life, due only to artificial force-infusion provided to him by the Shadow Empire; an infusion that apparently was only temporary, since he no longer had any connection with the Force. The failure to defeat Deathstrike, along with her condescending insinuation that he was a coward, had only started the man on his freefall. From there, he had lost his contract with the SE, after which he returned to Hutt space to take what should have been easy jobs. But in his profession, confidence in one's own abilities was perhaps more important than the abilities himself, and he now doubted himself. A series of unexplainable defeats all but ruined his reputation, culminating with the humiliating failure to protect a wealthy merchant and his family from assassination. He was nothing now, a man without a reputation, without a job, without friends... and without money. The last couple months had seen him blow almost all his savings on booze, which certainly didn't help him regain his former standing. But fate had given him one more chance; in the cantina where he was drowning in his own self-pity, he had spotted the woman he now blamed, perhaps illogically, for destroying him: Deathstrike. He had followed her, along with the man she was with, back to this hotel. He didn't confront them immediately, rather he spent time sobering up and preparing for what could be his last fight. It was now or never... As she climbed the stairs to Liyan's former room, Deathstrike was deep in thought. "As much as I want to be angry at the Recluse, his reasons were... intriguing... to say the least. I still don't know what to make of all of it... I cannot wait for the Master to arrive, to tell him of what happened here! But I have to be certain to keep any reference to Jaden Korr in the back of my mind... I don't want the Master to know he was here. For now, however--" - her line of thought was suddenly interrupted, as the Force alerted her to the presence in the room. Instantly adopting a combat stance, she drew both her vibroblades and advanced silently to the door. Flattening next to it, she thought: "Probably that Noghri-trained assassin who bested me in mortal combat... good! Because now, I have the Force at my disposal, as well... you should have finished me off when you had that chance, assassin!" - inserting the keycard, and slipping silently inside, not turning on the lights. The man remained in the back of the refresher, his crude weapon already cocked to fire. He had removed his boots and had them hidden elsewhere, allowing him to remain silent in his stocking feet, should he decide to advance foward. Noting that Deathstrike had not turned on the light, he began to realize his presence was already known. No matter, there was just enough dim light that he'd be able to see her sillouette in the doorway, and he'd be ready to fire when she tried to enter. Having the man's exact location pinpointed, both through the Force, and her finely honed instincts, Deathstrike advanced to flatten by the side of the refresher doorway, not making the slightest sound. However, as she sensed deeper into his mind, something caught her attention: Letting out an inaudible sigh, she spoke quietly: "Come out. I could sense you from the lobby, before I even entered the room. And even if not, I could certainly smell you once inside. If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead by now." - but staying in a combat stance, both vibroblades out, ready for anything. From the inside of the refresher, the man felt his stomach knot up. She wasn't even going to present him a chance to attack. Keeping his slugthrower in hand, he walked over the doorway and stopped there, looking for a sillouette anywhere in the room. "Well, if you want to play it the hard way..." - Deathstrike thought, before adding to herself: Suddenly, she leaped inside the refresher, dropping prone to the floor beneath the aim of the man's weapon, who snapped off a shot reflexively, half-rolling as she fell, left foot snapping upward in a half-spin kick to strike the arm holding the slugthrower sideways, kicking the weapon out of the man's grasp. In the same rolling motion, she was already back at her feet, the tip of one of her vibroblades touching the man's throat. "Now we can talk, can't we?" - she asked calmly, voice not betraying the spike of pain which flared up in her incompletely-healed left shoulder as she hit the floor. "We have nothing to talk about." the man growled in reply. "Is that so? You set up an ambush on someone, and then you have nothing to talk about to that someone, mmm? I find that hard to believe... especially given our past history." - Deathstrike replied, locking gazes with him, before she abruptly sheathed her vibroblades, adding: "Which is the only reason you're alive right now. Normally, those who ambush me do not have the opportunity to regret it!" "Obviously it wasn't much of an ambush if you knew I was there." was the response, followed by a defeated sigh. Deathstrike's face twitched into a slight smile at that. "An ambush would have to be very professional indeed to take me by surprise..." - as she used the Force to flick the light switch. "But, you should know that, shouldn't you... Ty?" - she added, as the room was now brightly illuminated, allowing them to see each-other clearly. But the merc's appearance was not that of the elite free-lancer she remembered a year before. Ty's very common clothing was tattered and dirty, his brown hair unkept and his odor that of an alcoholic. His face was also noticably different; beyond the slight beard he had developed, a nasty scar ran down the left side of his face, with an empty eye-socket left uncovered in the midst of it. Ty also didn't appear near as fit as when they had last met, although he still retained a fairly muscular build. As a whole; however, he looked more like a homeless drunk than the soldier-of-fortune he had once been. "I had no other option." Ty replied softly. From his slightly shaking hands and his glazed over good eye, Deathstrike deduced that Ty was still under slight influence of some hard liquor. Deathstrike was silent for long moments, as she thought: Even as she stood there, appalled, contemplating to simply kill him where he stands, she couldn't help but feel a slight trace of sympathy, for what he had once been, and apparently lost completely, as well as curiousity, as to what made him the way he is now. Finally, she stepped out of the refresher, after collecting the discarded slugthrower, and motioning him to sit at a room's table, before she asked quietly: "What happened to you, Ty?" Ty slumped down, ashamed and embarrassed with himself, especially since she had managed to disarm him so easily and not even bothered to kill him. Even though he wasn't completely clear-headed, he was aware enough that he wasn't about to blab everything to her. "Do I even need to explain? I lost everything." he muttered, "Reputation, contacts, weapons, money... everything." "That much is clear..." - Deathstrike remarked, realizing she wasn't likely to get anymore out of him. Of course, with the ability to reach into his mind via the Force, she had other options... "You lost your faith in yourself... and you blame me for it. Why is that?" - she stated after half a minute, but continued before he could answer. "Because you lost to me? Because you weren't strong enough to cope with it afterwards?!" - her tone now turning to angry, before she decided to tell him about the encounter she had with Recluse, without going into too much detail, only outlining the way he had taken her without a fight... as well as her fight and near-death at the hands of the Noghri-trained assassin. Finally, once finished, she remarked: "It's an ugly truth, Ty, but one has to be able to deal with it! No matter how capable you think you are, there is ALWAYS someone who will overpower you - one way or another. But that's not a reason to sink to the state you are in now! There are two ways to cope with failure; learn from it, or lose confidence. You chose the latter... and quite frankly, I despise you for that! I should kill you this instant for displaying such weakness, and THEN having the audacity to blame me for you state, and make this utterly pathetic attempt to kill me!" - the last sentence spoken in a low growl, as she was clearly restraining herself. Calming down slightly, she finished: "But the fact is, I still remember who you were, Ty... I remember a man who launched a daring raid on my Master's flagship, and fought me to a standstill there! You may have forgotten, but I remember. And that's why I have not killed you." "It wasn't just you; it was every failure I had afterward. You are right though, I have nobody to blame but myself." the merc replied, standing up and walking to the small window in the corner, "I've been a fool." Deathstrike laughed amicably at that. "That is where we are in full agreement, Ty..." - before her voice turned evaluative: "But it takes courage for one to admit one's mistake." The merc nodded silently, still looking out the window. "My biggest one was driving away any friends I could have had to keep me from doing this to myself." - he thought. "So what do you intend to do now?" - she asked. "I don't know." Ty sighed, "I just don't have the motivation to try and rebuild myself. The excitement of battle only goes so far and the money is really meaningless to me anymore." "I cannot imagine how can anyone stop relishing the excitement of battle... it's what I live for!" - Deathstrike thought to herself, shaking her head in amazemement, before adding a question: "Then what about a cause worth fighting for?" - continuing on to add: "The RTSE could use someone like you... at least the way you were once, Ty. It just so happens that my Master is soon to arrive here as we speak - no doubt he had been looking for me since the Recluse had abducted me. If you wish, I will support your offer of services to him." "I don't even know your cause." Ty replied. "Our cause had remained constant since the RTSE was formed, Ty... to rule the galaxy, defeat and destroy the Jedi Order, and establish a Galactic Reborn Sith Empire." - she stated, while thinking to herself: Ty was quiet for a few moments, contemplating the very vague description Deathstrike had given him. "There has to be more to it than that." he deadpanned finally, "But if you're anything like the Galactic Empire, whom I once served, then I could see myself returning to military service." "Best to keep our underlying philosophy from him at this point... because I have the feeling he may not understand, or agree with it yet." - Deathstrike thought, before replying: "So... do you accept my offer?" "I guess I haven't felt the stimulation of fighting a Jedi for too long." Ty admitted, "Alright then, I accept." "I'm glad to hear that... because rejection is one of the many things I don't take kindly to!" - Deathstrike replied mock-menacingly, before adding in a thoughtful voice: "And I suppose we shall see if you can reach your former level of competence, won't we?" - an undertone of implied challenge clear in the question, as well, then adding, almost as an afterthought: "Personally, my skills have only improved since last year..." "Just give me a couple weeks." Ty responded, clearly getting the message, which only further added motivation. LESS THEN ONE HOUR LATER, ON THE RTSE BEKRIJA, THE KARAS CLASS WARSHIP LORD DARKON COMMANDEERED Having dropped out of hyper-speed minutes ago in outer region of Tatooine system, Lord Darkon instructed the captain to stay concealed behind the outer-most planet, but ready to come in if necessary, while he took his personal infiltrator craft and headed in himself. ~~ Back in the room, Deathstrike could sense her Master's approach. Just having taken a shover, to at least appear marginally presentable when Lord Darkon came, she finished getting dressed, then emerged from the refresher and stepped close to the bed, vhere Ty vas asleep, stil getting over his alcohol-induced hangover. "Wake up, Ty... my Master has arrived. He will be here within half an hour." - she intoned loudly. The former merc stirred and lifted his head. "He's coming here?" he asked, just a little surprised the Sith Lord would bother to come planet-side. Deathstrike looked quizzically at him for a moment, before understanding: "What? You think it would be beneath him to do so? You think my Master is like that walking corpse Palpatine was, wallowing in arrogance and idiotic sense of condescention, while others did the work for him? Lord Darkon has allvays been the 'hands-on' type! Of course he would come here." Then she added: "Not to mention, having a full detachment of RTSE personell would only draw unnecessarry attention." "That's not what I was meaning." Ty responded, dragging himself out of bed, "Never mind." Glancing over at the refresher, he asked: "You suppose there's enough time for me to get cleaned up a little?" "Proceed... there should be about twenty minutes left. I shall go to the town spaceport to meet the ship." - waz Deathstrike's answer, sensing thet Lord Darkon's craft was just entering atmosphere. Ty took a quick shower and straightening what he could of his face and hair. But his clothes remained in the same condition and he couldn't do anything about covering his missing eye, the result of a close encounter with a vibroblade a few months after Akates, while he was still getting some work. Once he was finished in the refresher, he recovered his slugthrower and holstered it, then waited for Deathstrike to return with Lord Darkon. Landing in one of the most remote landing bays in Mos Eisley, Lord Darkon had decided not to attract any attention, if at all possible. After clearing with the bay controller, the small ship landed, and he stepped out of the cockpit. He was not surprised to notice a lone figure standing at the edge of the bay. The figure approached, then dropped to one knee in front of him. "Master! I am honoured you chose to postpone all your other activities simply to come and claim me again!" - Deathstrike exclaimed, lowering her head in respect. "Rise, my chosen." - Lord Darkon intoned, before adding: "Have you expected anything different? You are too valuable to the RTSE for me to simply abandon you." - as she got back to her feet. "And to me, as well..." - he added earnestly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, my Master." - Deathstrike replied, as they both walked out of the bay. "I sense you have much to tell me, of what happened to you here." - Darkon said, as they walked. "That would be an understatement, Master... I don't even quite know where to begin..." - she admitted, before starting the entire story about her interactions with the Recluse, but keeping any mention of Jaden Korr carefully out, and out of her conscious thoughts, as well. By the time they reached the motel, she was almost finished. "Master... could it be that the Recluse was telling the truth? That we are doomed to simply turn on each-other, once the Jedi have been defeated?!" - she finally asked, in some trepidation. Lord Darkon's expression turned thoughtful at that. "I would be deceiving myself if I didn't think that would be a possibility... however, this 'Recluse' had clearly missed one very important point... and so have you, for even considering this." - he stated, with some reproach. "What is that, Master?" "That is the secondary reason as to why we hold so many contests, competitions, and trials, to test and challenge us - the primary being training, of course - because those events are meant to satisfy our desire for conflict, and battle, and allow us to test our strength against one-another, without losing ourselves to the urge." - Darkon replied. "But Master... have not the Sith of old also engaged in such contests, yet had still fallen to the urge in the end?" - Deathstrike inquired dubiously. "Of course, my apprentice... but they were not the True Sith! They had allowed the Dark Side to rule them, which clouded their judgement, and influenced their actions without them even realizing it. Trials and contests had ultimately become death-matches, and they were happily killing each other, to sate the Dark Side's hold over them. As I have emphasized to you so many times... the Force is an useful servant, Deathstrike... but NOT a welcome master!" - Lord Darkon stated. "And the notion that Light and Dark sides do not exist, and that the Force is one?" - Deathstrike inquired, a bit more reassured now. "The answer to that question is considerably more complex, my apprentice, and all I shall say for now, is that the Recluse actually has some credence there... though his interpretation is clearly biased." - raising his hand as Deathstrike was about to add something else. "I will tell you more about this once we are back aboard, and after I impart the many news about what has happened in your absence." "What do you mean, Master? What happened?" - she asked, curiousity more than evident in her tone. "All in good time... for now, I sense there is more you have to tell me." - looking her straight in the eye. Deathstrike nodded, then motioned toward the motel, telling him about Ty294's renewed appearance, and that he was waiting in the motel's room at this very moment. "And you did not kill him, Deathstrike?! After he attempted to kill you? Why not?" - Lord Darkon inquired with clear reproach. "You should see him, Master... he is but a shell of the man who faced me back then. And it was you who taught me that killing an impaired enemy, except when necessary, is an act of a coward!" - she replied with conviction. Lord Darkon nodded, then smiled slightly. "Indeed... I have. Still. I confess to being curious about what exactly do you mean by... a shell. He must have diminished badly indeed to warrant such an uncommon act of... mercy... from you." - a trace of condescention evident in his tone. Deathstrike bristled at that, inscensed, before her Nightsister temper took over, and she snapped off a lightning fast hinge-palm strike to her Master's throat... ...which was deftly intercepted and trapped, almost before it began, as Darkon only shifted to the side, in a half crouch, applying leverage to her hand, making her lose balance as she was about to follow up with a knee-strike, sweeping out her legs from under her with a low-sweep kick at the same time, and bringing her down to the ground, then applying a measured compression to her carotid artery with his other hand, not enough to cut off the blood flow to the brain and render her unconscious, but enough to daze her. "But I am pleased to see you have not become soft during your foray here, my chosen!" - he added. "NEVER... my... Master!" - she grinned hissingly, struggling to break free, striking him in the solar plexus with her free hand, which Darkon endured only with a brief grunt, by tensing instinctively. "Good." - Lord Darkon intoned, ignoring this last attack, as he suddenly stood up, and motioning her to do the same. As she did so, he added: "Yet, you are still all fire, and no ice... so long as you allow your temper to dictate to you in battle, you shall never attain true Mastery of Teras Kasi, and reach Tier 9 - the Harmony Of Purpose." Deathstrike looked at him, eyes blazing with desire... "Will you be resuming my training, then, my Master?!" - she breathed, in a voice so laced with excitement at the prospect that it seemed to be shuddering, as she thought: "Tier 9'! At last... I shall become the perfect warrior, like the Master is!" - but Lord Darkon sensed her thoughts, shaking his head. "Not as simple as that, Deathstrike... patience. I will only instruct you in the basic forms, and state of mind for Tier 9, for that is as much as you are ready for, as you are now. Perhaps after your return from the mission I will send you on, you shall be ready for more." - before adding: "And you must not think of me as a 'perfect' warrior... for I am not. If I were, the Jedi and all the others who oppose us would have already been vanquished. Perfection is a goal, not an attainable state." "Yes, Master... a mission? What sort of mission will I undertake?" - she inquired, calming down slightly. "Later. For now, I want to evaluate your mercenary... acquaintance... for myself." - Darkon replied, leading the way into the motel. A minute later, the two of them entered Deathstrike's room... Ty, who had been seated at the table waiting, rose to his feet and assumed as straight a posture as he could, although in fact it had been a very long time since he had stood at attention for anyone. Although he certainly didn't look as disgusting as when Deathstrike first saw him, he still looked nothing like the man Darkon remembered. Lord Darkon measured out the man in front of him in a single, well-trained glance, thinking: "Well... now I can see what my apprentice meant by 'a shell". Yet, that look in his eyes... it's the same one I remember from a year ago. He may have deteriorated since our last meeting, but that man is still inside... I have no doubt of that." - before finally speaking, voice neutral: "Ty294... the infamous mercenary who had earned my apprentice's respect. And who had proven a great deal of trouble for us last year. The intervening passage of time has not been kind to you, I see." Then he nodded. "At ease, soldier." Ty relaxed, still embarrassed at meeting the Sith Lord in a condition like this. "My Lord, if you apprentice hasn't already told you, I am willing to offer my services to you. I may not look like much now, as I've allowed myself to... degrade. But I assure you I'll be in better condition then when you last met me within a matter of weeks." the former merc stated. "I will vouch for him, Master... I have fought him when he was in his prime, and I guarantee he shall not disappoint, once back to his former standards." - Deathstrike added. However, Lord Darkon still remained unconvinced, and in need of additional persuasion... "Be that as it may... why would I need your services, mercenary? My forces are well supplied with competent personnel, and my Acolytes are there to handle the more... delicate... assignments. And then of course, there is my apprentice, whom I have personally and painstakingly trained to the highest level of ability a shadow-warrior can achieve. Why would I need you?" - in a voice that carried a hint of challenge within. "I'm a versatile asset, sir. I can work on the ground, directly or covertly, although I prefer directly. I can handle boarding operations and interior tactical assaults. I also have a passable ability to dogfight in a fighter. I know how to use, to one extend or another, just about every small-arm you can name, and I'd be more than willing to learn that which I do not already know." Ty paused briefly, before adding: "Plus I have plenty of experience dealing with the New Republic... and the Jedi." Lord Darkon stared hard at Ty for long moments, before nodding slightly. "Very well. Your array of different skills would make you a viable choice for a variety of assignments, true. You will have the opportunity to prove yourself." - before another thought occured to him: "However, you didn't mention any experience in close combat, whether melee or unarmed." Deathstrike jumped in at that. "He was a deft hand with a blade, during our battle last year. Certainly there is room for improvement, though..." - glancing at Ty, before she added: "I do not know about his unarmed skills, however... but I did not get the impression he was trained in any specific form." "My biggest weakness." Ty admitted, "I have no special unarmed fighting ability; just the traditional methods." Darkon scowled at that. "Well, since I do not tolerate weakness of any sort in my elite personnel, that particular deficiency shall have to be addressed in short order. You might be surprised how useful it is to be able to fight efficiently without a weapon. Enemies would often be taken by surprise, and you are never truly defenceless." "During your recovery, you will participate in the entry-level Teras Kasi training sessions for initiate Acolytes, to develop the basics." - he added. At that point, Deathstrike interjected, remembering her pitiful display with blasters during their escape from Gardula's stronghold. "And once you've mastered the basics, I will train you... in exchange for something that I have recently discovered as my own weakness - the use of blasters. I may dislike using them, but there may be another time when I would have no choice... I need to know how to aim and shoot properly!" "You've got a deal." Ty smirked at Deathstrike, "It's rather useful to be able to deal with enemies from a distance." "Oh, I can deal with enemies from a distance - using my assassin knives, or basically any kind of knife, so long as it can be thrown. But I still would prefer to know..." - Deathstrike retorted, before Lord Darkon took over again: "Good, that is settled. I assume you have a ship, mercenary? If so, you are to launch and dock with the Bekrija, a Karas class vessel now waiting at the outskirts of this system. If not, I will dispatch a shuttle to pick you up." - before adding: "What is your full name, anyway?" Ty was silent for a moment. He had not gone by his full name in years, in fact, perhaps the only record of his name was what may have remained in the registry of Imperial Stormtroopers somewhere in the Remnant achieves on Bastion. But the fake name he had been known by for so long no-longer had carried any weight, so he could start anew with his real name. "Havox. Ty Havox is full name." the merc replied, "And I'm afraid I do not have a ship anymore, so I will need the shuttle." Lord Darkon nodded, then pulled out his commlink: "Captain, dispatch a shuttle to land at Mos Eisley outskirts, not drawing attention. There will it collect my apprentice, and an additional passenger. I am returning to the ship." "Yes, my Lord." - came the prompt reply. "Once you're aboard, I will tell you of what happened in your absence, my apprentice. After you recuperate, naturally..." - he then added to Deathstrike, taking in her numerous bruises, cuts, contusions, and noting the way she seemed to favour her left shoulder slightly. "Yes, Master. I shall look forward to it." - she replied with a slight bow. About to walk out of the room, Lord Darkon added to Ty: "And I shall look forward to seeing if you can live up to the claim my apprentice made on your behalf." - in a steely calm tone, the sentence addressed as much to Deathstrike as it was to Ty. Once the doors closed, Deathstrike turned to Ty, stepping close and pinning him with a piercing stare, before she spoke: "Do you know what that meant, Ty?" - her voice laced with quiet menace. Ty maintained a confident smile, the upcoming challenge seemingly bringing back his sense of purpose in life. "He won't be disappointed." Deathstrike remained serious however, as she growled: "I hope so. Because if you disappoint, I shall be held responsible as well, because I vouched for you. And if that happens - I'll be sure to make you suffer for it, before the Master makes us both suffer as punishment." - before the growl abruptly vanished, and she continued in a neutral tone: "Just keep that in mind. Now, we should go... there is a good hour-long walk to the outskirts, and I want to be off this miserable planet as soon as possible!" - walking out of the room. "And I SINCERELY hope I never set foot on it again!" - she thought to herself. TITANIA As the days passed on, the talks between the TEC leaders and the Ekatra leaders seemed to be getting somewhere, and fast. While Remus had other things to do, Ron was spending literally 18 of the 24 hours of the day negotiating, if it could be called negotiating, with the Ekatra representitives. The talks were so casual and friendly that everyone involved could tell where they were going. But there was still a few major obstacles to overcome... "I don't think you quite understand our position here." - Ron said to the Ekatra Lord acting as the representative, "The SE has taken everything from us, save our home system and what's left of our pride. In order for this to work out, we will NEED to get in some shots vs. them." "I fully understand your position, Ron, but I don't think you quite understand mine." - the Lord said, folding his hands together, "The SE has more capital ships in a single fleet than you have left in your entire Coalition. In order for you to fight the SE, you are going to need to rebuild your military." "You think we don't still have a sizeable force?" - Ron pressed. "Well, I don't know. I am not a tactician. I'm a negotiator who knows how to fight." - the Lord growled. Ron paused for a moment, remembering that he still had the TEC schematics - all of them - on the Khronis. "What if you let us use your factories here?" - he asked out of the blue. "Here? At Titania?" "Yes. And elsewhere." "Why?" "I have my schematics with me. If you guys can replicate them, we can build our ships here, alongside yours!" Ron detailed, explaining his line of though. "Brilliant." - the Lord said under his breath, "Absolutely brilliant. And your economies?" "I brought the actual accounts with me. Our father system may be broke now, but... there may still be some life to live for the Trader Emergency Coalition!" - Ron said, extending a hand. The Lord smiled, shook Ron's hand and said: "You got a deal." Ron grinned from ear to ear, and his TEC companions in the room with him cheered, and gave off a stiff salute. "For the future." - General Tasckird, who was also present, said. "For the future." - Ron and the Lord repeated. "Now, my accountant has been recording this entire conversation. I'll go find Remus while he writes up an official document. Good work, gentlemen." - the other Lord in the room said, then left, smiling despite himself. ABDERHALDEN With an overwhelming number of SE forces invading the planet, Abderhalden's capital was quickly overwhelmed. But the Gatekeeper did not stop there; he had ordered his forces to 'subjugate' the rest of the planet, as well. Meeting with heavy resistance everywhere they went, the SE was losing a lot of troops thanks to spread out military bases. On day 7 of the invasion, the order was given to bombard the bases, but the bases only; the Gatekeeper did not want massive civilian casualties. As one by one the bases were exterminated, the SE's job became easier, and the ES forces left on the planet were reduced to rebel fighters. Normally this process would take months, but the Arkun's scanners had located every base on the planet bearing the ES name, and all were destroyed. This made the stress relax greatly, but it would be many more months, perhaps even years, before the SE had cleanly gotten control of the planet - assuming the ES never got it back -. UTAPAU With only a single fleet on a single forgotten planet to call his own, Count Ennomos was frustrated. His lust for revenge had rapidly increased over the past week, and he couldn't just sit there and do nothing for however long this painstaking process was going to take. He had to give credit where it was due. Remus had outsmarted an entire faction, decieving their leaders, and his own men, into believing that he was content with what he had while he secretly built up a massive military of his own creation. Ennomos knew this had to have taken a long time, and granted Remus did have the entire Ekatra Order on his side, but it just didn't add up. Where did he build his ships? Who built them? When were they built? Where did he get the finances? Remus was by no means a rich man... In fact, he barely had a credit to his name. "Or does he?" - Ennomos broke his own train of thought... How deep did the Kamen's web of lies go? Did this conspiracy go as far into the depths of the galactic records as far as he thought it did? Or better yet... Who exactly IS Remus Von Grath? Being a low-level Lord when he was with him, he never knew much about him. He never met him in-person, though he had seen him a few times. He didn't know anything about him, save his name and his species, and that he was very powerful. But he did know of someone who did. Someone who had met him - and fought him - before, who may just have records on the man: The Gatekeeper. Deciding to leave the relative safety of Utapau for the time being, Ennomos, without saying a word, stormed off the bridge of his Mandator, and went into his advisor's office: He was taking an extended leave of absence... THE DESPAIR, IN ORBIT OF TRISAC If the Kamen was happy about an official alliance with the TEC being forged, he sure wasn't showing it. All he could think about was the situation at hand: the space battle he was in. It was his Ekatra Fleet vs. the SE 457th above SE controlled Trisac, a huge planet bristling with all kinds of life forms. Remus was determinded to get control of the planet, but he had no interest in acquiring it's resources, or lack thereof. He had another plan in mind... Outside, the new Karakas Heavy Destroyers were tearing apart the smaller and weaker SE ISD3s, despite being initially outnumbered 2-1, while Englads and TIE Hunters dueled in low-orbit. The Despair, meanwhile, was mopping up the rest of the surviving SE forces, it's mass drivers shredding literally everything they hit. They had been fighting for over an hour, and the battle was at its end... As the last of the Star Destroyers was incinerated, now able to get away thanks to the Interdictor Cruisers present, the Despair shifted its focus toward the metropolis itself. "Ready to deploy landing forces, my Lord." - the Ekatra next to Remus called out. "No. This planet is worthless to us. It offers nothing." - Remus stated. "Then why did you order an attack, my Lord?" "To send a message..." "Lord Kamen?" "Base Delta Zero. I want every living thing on that planet destroyed." - Remus said in a tone that made even the hardened Ekatra shiver. "But, my Lord, there's over 25 BILLION people down there!" - the Ekatra objected. "Base Delta Zero." - Remus said again, his tone even less compromising. - "Do it now." "Yes my Lord..." - the Ekatra said, clearly unnerved by Remus' heartless decision. The bottom of the Despair, equipped with high-intensity Maser Beams and Mass Drivers, began to glow their respective colors. Then, in the blink of an eye, all Hell was unleashed. The masive siege cannons began to fire at a fast pace, and down on the planet, it was doomsday. Gigantic explosions were visible from orbit as the planet's outer crust began to crack, and with it, the major cities, and all those who dwelled within them, met their ends. The rest of the fleet could only watch, helplessly, as Torpedo Gunships entered the area and began unloading their nuclear payloads down on the planet, while the Despair continued it's relentless assault. The Ekatra with Remus, visibly shaken, turned away. He couldn't watch any more. But Remus, under his helmet, was smiling for the first time in weeks. He was truly enjoying the spectacle, and even more so knowing that this was an SE-infested world, and that the Gatekeeper couldn't do anything to stop it. Now, under the explosions, no longer were the lights of massive cities, deep oceans, and wide country pastures visible. Now, the area was known as a Shattered World. Everything on the planet had been exterminated. Most of the crust was gone, revealing the inner core magma, which was spilling out onto what was left of the land. The oceans were gone; the water had been blasted into steam. The country pastures were now filling with magma. And the former cityscape was now ruins, slowly getting consumed by the magma. But in it all, Remus Von Grath's message had been sent. He was willing to do anything to win the war, even mass geonoicide. Even the shattering of an entire planet without so much as a second thought. Although, he had to admit, he was eager to see the reactions of the True Sith. He was looking forward to what they would say, as well as the TEC. But most of all, he wanted to know what the SE was going to say. As the fleet left the Shattered World Trisac that day, Remus was the only man not feeling like a complete monster... if he could even call himself a man...
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